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October 2008
Topic Started: May 1 2010, 05:17 PM (3,210 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:01 am

Quintus


Titrus
 
"Yes, come on. Why didn't you just tell him your name,
Mirtha, you fool? You could have avoided getting locked
up. You'd better hope he doesn't forget you're down
there!"


Karl
 
"Got your hide tanned pretty good, now, didn'tcha? Ya
shoulda just tole the man yer name! Step it up. Ah,
you're tending to the Woad bitch, eh? You should let her
die. Give me 10 minutes with her and I'd make sure she'd
wish she was dead. Carry on."


"Keep your mind on the fuckin' job, Karl," the Centurion
growled from behind the soldier, tightening his grip on
Mirtha's arm in perhaps unfair reaction to Karl's malevolent
sniping. There had been a rape attempt on that particular
prisoner already, when she had first been brought here, and
the higher-ups had made it abundantly clear that that was not
acceptable conduct this time around. Apparently that Woad knew
something- she had gone with the Optio and the Captain the
other day- and they wanted to keep her relatively unharmed- as
evidenced, Quintus noticed, by the presence of the healer
Neeve in her cell with her as they passed. But it was none of
their concern, as long as she was still secure and not
escaping like the other one had. Quintus continued to steer
Mirtha along the corridor, glaring at Karl's back, until they
reached the cell that their escorting guard had in mind, and
now unlocked for them.

Titrus
 
"Well, Mirtha, you're home for the next couple of
hours."


Karl
 
"Next time, you'll mind your manners."


Mirtha
 
"Just fucking great..."


"Probably won't be long, man- the Captain'll let over it soon
enough, but I wouldn't talk to him like that again," Quintus
advised gruffly. There seemed no need to do anything more-
Mirtha had gone quietly, just as he had advised, and now went
immediately to the back wall of the cell and plopped himself
down on the floor with his back leaning against it, looking
despondent, as well he might. Well, you didn't talk like that
to officers.

"Joy of the day," he wished Mirtha, raising his hand in a
brief, ironic farewell as he stepped out of the cell and
turned back into the corridor, Titrus and Karl alongside.
Quintus made sure to set a quick pace on the way back out,
hurrying Karl along with an inarticulate, disapproving hmmmph
as they passed the Woad's cell again. This time, though, it
passed without incident, and the three men were soon on their
way back across the courtyard, ready to rejoin the rest of the
mission party. And the Commander still wasn't there. Looked
like they were still playing the waiting game.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:08 am

Arthur


The moment Arthur had said the words: …and waiting for me to
Lancelot, he had regretted his phrasing, especially as
Lancelot only laughed – bitterly in reply. Yet…..yet…he found
that he truly did want nothing more than to be greeted by
Lancelot upon his return as he always had in the past. And he
also prayed that Lancelot would understand that as the Roman’s
closest friend. ….or was it still something more? But Arthur
had not meant to imply any deeper meaning in his words….or had
he? Even though Arthur had begun walking along the corridor in
every attempt to appear ‘casual’, his belly was alive -
churning with his true emotions. His world had been completely
twisted beyond recognition by Darya’s ‘news’ last night…and
then by the way Lancelot had revealed his own emotions just
moments ago. Arthur would welcome the simple confrontation
with Merlin he expected today after such tidings as
these….Arthur felt that he was losing control…inside….Arthur’s
heart was trembling and threatened to crumble underneath the
weight of it all. Battles, protocols, Rome, faith in God….even
the workings of the sun and rain were easier for Arthur to
wrap his thoughts around than how he ‘felt’ about Darya, a
child and Lancelot.

Lancelot
 
“What am I, your pet dog? Don’t worry, commander, I
shall be sitting loyal and panting by your bed the
moment Merlin decides to release you with your head
intact.”


Lancelot’s words in reply instantly stung and Arthur opened
his mouth to retract his own comments….but nothing came.
Nothing. Of course he did not view Lancelot as the dog that
all of Rome seemed to make the Sarmatian out to be. It was an
insult and a comparison that Arthur would never understand.
Yet despite all his thoughts on the matter….his mouth snapped
back shut without a word. For now. Besides, Lancelot’s caustic
reference to ‘panting’ at his bedside was even worse.

Let it go.

Lancelot
 
“I’m not sure she’ll be able to tell you anything useful
at any rate,”


“Perhaps not, but I will make the attempt while I have the
opportunity,” Arthur commented evenly and without looking over
at the man who walked at his side as if nothing at all had
transpired between them this morning. But something had.
Something had changed; Arthur felt it deep within his soul as
if he too had bared it as Lancelot had. And he knew that he
should verbally acknowledge it….but nothing would come as if
Arthur’s throat was closed over. Arthur had bared everything
to Lancelot before….and was certain that he could not do it
again.

And so the two men walked on; their hobnailed boots clicked on
the flagstones beneath their feet and the sound gently echoed
off the cold stony walls as they passed by. Arthur’s left hand
rested on Excalibur’s hilt while he subconsciously flexed the
fingers of his right. His wounded side persisted with a dull
ache, but Arthur convinced himself that it was healing and
that he was recovered in his strength. Lancelot had confirmed
no fever before the Commander had dressed….yet Arthur still
felt the heat of those fingers on his brow even now as the
crisp morning air nipped at his stubbly face.

Lancelot
 
“And so you’ll leave it be, I was in a…scrap, yesterday.


“Oh?” Arthur said; feigning disinterest – despite demanding to
hear the explanation only moments ago - while lifting a single
brow as his gaze ticked over at Lancelot. So whose jealous
lover had the dark knight offended? That thought only made
Arthur’s teeth grind together….. find yourself another whore
for the night. But the bottom line - who would Arthur be
forced to placate to spare Lancelot’s neck this time?

Lancelot
 
“Galahad decided he wanted to be gallant and defend his
own reputation – involving both myself and Gawain in
that most honorable pursuit. He’s been patched up and
both myself and Gawain are no worse for wear. Can we
drop it now?”


The explanation had not been what Arthur had
anticipated….although not an uncommon occurrence among the
knights…thus he gave a nod of understanding over at Lancelot
and kept on walking. They reached the main exit from the
building and stepped out into the open air which forced Arthur
to pull his overcoat tighter over his chest.

“Perhaps I shall have a word of counsel with Galahad when I
return. I have neglected the men in recent days,” Arthur
commented remorsefully while the lines across his brow
thickened with the weight of his responsibilities; his hot
breath turning visibly white as it mixed with the icy morning
air.

“I trust that you will avoid activities that would result in
an injury to your remaining ‘good’ eye in my absence,” Arthur
commented without looking over at his lieutenant. The corner
of his mouth twitched with a hint of sarcasm, but he added
nothing further. The Commander had no intentions of pressing
Lancelot for any additional information on the so called
‘scrap’ as Arthur was simply relieved to hear it had not
involved Lancelot’s roguish behavior as had been expected. But
Arthur had every intention of speaking to Galahad….the young
Sarmatian was a good man who only needed a little guidance
that Arthur should be more actively providing. And focusing on
another – anything else for that matter – would keep Arthur’s
guilty thoughts from tormenting him over his relationship with
Lancelot and Darya.

The two men reached the fortress dungeon without interruption
and the two guards snapped to attention at seeing their
Commander approach. They quickly opened the gate to give
Arthur and Lancelot entry into the dark stony structure. And
after a quick inquiry as to which holding cell the Woad
captive (Neeria) had been taken, the two men headed down the
corridor and rounded the first corner before Arthur spoke
again….

“You are closest to me…” Arthur suddenly said while he reached
over to lightly touch at Lancelot’s forearm. “….and I will
need your council more than I care to admit in the coming
days, my friend,” He blew out a tired breath and squinted
against the darkness in the inadequately lit hallway. Arthur
was no fool; he knew he was ill equipped to deal with Darya’s
pregnancy and impending fatherhood. Not that he thought
Lancelot any better, but only Lancelot would truly understand
Arthur’s apprehensions.

“And not because I think on you as my obedient ‘pet’,”
Arthur’s voice was low as he added the comment and it should
be obvious to Lancelot what the Roman was implying….he was in
his own way chiding Lancelot for making the ridiculous remark
earlier. He pulled his fingers back from Lancelot’s arm as
they took the final corner that led to their destination: the
holding cell of the incarcerated Woad girl. And as they
approached, Arthur noted the door to the cell was already open
and at closer scrutiny he found Neeve to be present –
presumably treating the Woad girl for an injury.

“Neeve,” Arthur said the Briton’s name with a hint of caution
as he stepped to the opening of the holding cell to join the
raven-haired Briton. His crimson cloak billowed out behind him
and the soft glow of lowly lit torches reflecting off the
Commander’s polished armour as he moved. Piercing emerald eyes
made a quick assessment to be sure that Neeve was in no danger
here. And then Arthur’s full attention was on the Woad girl;
his rugged unshaven expression unreadable as he rested his
hands on his hips. The girl’s dark hair was in tangles, her
fair skin was covered with smudges of dirt and the obviously
borrowed clothes hung messily about her tiny frame. Empathy
for the girl instantly rose in Arthur’s throat – despite the
fact that this very same ‘pathetic looking’ scrap of a girl
had attempted to take the Roman’s life once.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:08 am
Rosita


Smith
 
"Hmmm ... does she talk to you or me, Scáth?"


Little lightening flashes slithered up and down Rosita's back
as Smith teased her. She stared at him as the morning sun
shined golden streaks of light in his long brown locks.

Again, Rosita looked away quickly. She refused to acknowledge
the heat the began to rise within her. Smith was a loner and
she knew it. And her responsibility to help provide food for
her people came first. Rosita was a mighty, skilled hunter.
She was better than most men. She bent over and shook the
quiver on her back, adjusting it. Kayley and Micah walked up,
Rosita and Kayley exchanging cordial nods.

Rosita decided to take advantage of the distraction and slip
away. She rushed ahead to catch up with Merlin who was moving
toward Guinevere. Rosita had wanted to speak with Guinvere.
She knew that Guinevere had been close to Mona at one time.
Rosita didn't have the same type of relationship with Merlin's
daughter, but she did want to make sure Guinevere was okay.
With both Neeria and Mona gone, Guinevere may need someone to
talk to.

Merlin
 
Come, Guinevere- let's check on the wounded before we
go,"


"May I join you?" Rosita said as she approached Merlin and
Guinevere. "Guinevere, we haven't much time to talk lately.
How are you?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:33 am
Tristan


The Stablemaster was packed off to the dungeons handily, and
Captain Barbattus was now- somewhat futilely- attempting to
shoo the onlookers away. Only a few minutes later, Lieutenant
Titrus and the other two men who had gone with him to escort
Mirtha were back, and that appeared to be it- the brawl, such
as it was, was over. And happily, only a moment after that,
the distinctive figures of Arthur and Lancelot appeared at the
opposite edge of the courtyard- but they didn't head over to
join the group readying for the mission immediately. Instead,
they turned their steps towards the dungeons, the same place
that Titrus and his group had just come from.

Tristan looked over his shoulder and caught Bors' eye briefly,
indicating with a jerk of his head that he was going over to
join the Commander and his First Knight. That is, if he could
catch up with them before Arthur promised the world to that
Woad. Because that must be where they were going. And that was
exactly what the scout wanted to talk to Arthur about, anyway.
As the distant figures of Arthur and Lancelot were admitted to
the dungeons, Tristan broke into a jog across the courtyard,
but even so, he didn't reach them until he was back down among
the damnable stink and dim light and enclosed air of the
dungeons, just outside the Woad prisoner's cell.

They appeared to have just gotten there, so Tristan hung back
in the corridor, angling his head to try to catch Arthur or
Lancelot's eye, but hoping very sincerely that the Woad
wouldn't notice him. She would, after all, probably start
screaming again. There was someone else in the cell there with
her- Neeve, as Tristan gathered from Arthur's greeting, and
Tristan supposed that her healerly instincts had impelled her
to go check on the Woad this morning despite the bad
experience of last night. Why anyone bothered with her,
Tristan still couldn't grasp- but perhaps, just perhaps,
Arthur was going to come to his senses and remove her from the
fort in whatever fashion he saw fit.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 3:09 pm
Cassidy & Fleur


Drake
 
"Not right now Fleur. Who is the woman who gave you the
dresses?"


Fleur pouted petulantly, but it lasted only a moment. She was
not needy child. She wasn't one to fit nor cry, but seemed to
take everything in stride. The simplest of pleasures easily
brought a smile to her cherubic face. Drake's words registered
in her ears as "not right now," which to Fleur meant that he
would give her a ride later then. So when he drew her from his
back and set her upon the bed, she did not fight it, only went
along willingly. Absentmindedly she reached out and curled her
tiny fingers into the material of the soldier's sleeve as he
steadied her on the cot. Soft blonde tendrils feel into
trusting blue eyes as she raised her free hand to her mouth
and idly began chewing on the end of her own sleeve - a
self-consoling habit that she had yet to outgrow. The corners
of her mouth uplifted to show she was smiling, although with
her sleeve snugly pinned between her teeth, it nearly took on
the appearance of a grimace.

"She said her name was Catherine," Cassidy responded to
Drake's inquiry. She was surprised at how steady her voice had
sounded despite the inward wince she gave at mention of the
woman she had treated oh so badly. Her gazed dropped to her
lap in shame, taking in sight of the purple garment she wore
to remind herself. Of course, that was hardly necessary when
she had Fleur. The little girl's sleeve fell away from her
lips as she glanced up at Drake assertively.

"Uh-huh! An' she telled us a story! Well..." Fleur said,
throwing an accusing look toward her sister. "...'afore Sissy
was mean an' she went away..."

Cassidy scowled. "Did not," she retorted quietly, and
childishly stuck out her tongue at the smaller girl, who in
turn, also stuck out hers in response.

Linnesse
 
"Can I help you with something, sir?"


The older girl stuck out her tongue once more at Fleur - as if
she was having the last 'word' - before promptly folding
herself onto the bed, tucking one hand up under her head and
the other between her knees. She heard Linnesse's timid voice
somewhere behind her but pretended not to notice, turning her
face into her pillow as she felt a sudden burning in her
cheeks.














Alina

It had been a stretch to pull herself out of bed that morning.
She had been exhausted the night before after her encounter
with Kolya and Gawain, but hadn't slept well. She thought of
the heart-breaking look on Galahad's face that she had caused,
Gawain's brute honesty, and Kolya when she had found him
waiting outside her room after the baths. Even with time to
dwell on the latter, Alina still hadn't gotten any closer to
drawing conclusions. She couldn't have guessed what had been
going through Kolya's head, and felt somehow conceited now for
thinking there had been only one logical reason for him having
been there. Perhaps she had started out with high expectations
for the man, which then had lowered considerably due to his
own devices. With expectations that low, what else had she
been supposed to think finding him on her doorstep after
everything that had happened? After all, he had said it
himself - he was a simple man. Simple men had no ulterior
motives other than getting something they wanted, like sex, or
did they?

Alina had hurried with breakfast before promptly making her
way to the infirmary. Each step she took was agonizing - and
not only because her ankle ached from being twisted the
previous evening either - but because she knew there would be
several people once inside that would probably be unhappy to
see her. Galahad for one, Lavinia for another because she
hadn't come to work for days, maybe even Gawain, or God forbid
for some reason Kolya would be there.

The healer hung her cloak on a peg and ducked inside the ward.
Lavinia seemed to have eyes on the back of her head, so there
was no point in trying to avoid her. Sooner or later she was
sure to be confronted and reprimanded by the other woman.
Without even thinking about it, she immediately scanned the
room for Galahad, looking almost lost in her timid efforts
with fingers twisting together anxiously at her abdomen. He
wasn't there, though. She knew he was the type to despise the
infirmary with every fiber of his being, but somehow Alina had
clocked the notion into her head that his real reason for not
lingering was because he couldn't stand the sight of her. The
color drained from her face, but at the same time her cheeks
seemed to burn. Alina spotted Drake with the two orphan girls
and Linnesse and quickly bowed her head, bustling through the
ward to go back to the storeroom as quickly as her ankle would
allow for her.









Kayley

Smith
 
"Don't worry so much about me falling apart Kayley.
Worry more over my worry that you might fall apart and I
will have to explain it to my mother. She treasures you
more than her own son you know. But don't worry... I
won't tell him that. Come now. You do it no good
prodding. Tell her Rosita."


"Oh, psh," she murmured at his teasing, pulling away and
sweeping damp tendrils from her eyes before resting her hand
at her hip. It was easy for her to take the prospect of death
light-heartedly, not because it was funny, but because it was
easier than dwelling upon it and becoming engulfed in its
despair. For Kayley death was not sad, but a beautiful thing.
Those they knew and cared for would soar to a majestic and
higher plane of being where they would be free of pain and
sorrow forever. That was not to say she wouldn't mourn her
losses - especially if those who came to perish were people
close to her heart - but she would accept it in time. She
would honor their spirits and be happy for their ascension, to
know they had been chosen by the Gods. "Your mother will worry
regardless. If she knew you were riding this beast around - "
she continued with a wry grin, and pat Scáth's taut coat once.
" - in your condition..."

She tsked, her voice trailing off. She and Smith had both
suffered much worse in the way of battle wounds before, but it
seemed whenever he or Kayley came back with even a scratch, it
sent the poor woman into a tizzy. Kayley had been luckier than
Smith last time, escaping with some bruises and a cut to her
thigh only. She was a very no-nonsense type of woman, Smith's
mother, and no doubt she'd jump them the next chance she got,
accusing them of not taking care of themselves and not looking
out for each other properly. Her concern was understandable,
though - they were all she had left in the world.

"I guess you're on your own," Kayley mused, with a subtle jut
of her chin toward Rosita's retreating figure.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted two of their brethren
removing Mona's corpse from the path into the brush as per
Merlin's order. She frowned, although not out of remorse. Such
a ghastly end for one of Merlin's warriors, but Kayley quickly
reminded herself that the woman branded traitor had earned no
mercy. She spit on the ground to ward of evil spirits.

She glanced over her shoulder to see the others preparing for
departure, Micah included.

"Shall we go?" Kayley inquired, turning back to Smith.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 4:42 pm
Tatiana


Finishing up mucking out the last empty stall in the row that
she was working on and putting down a fresh layer of straw as
well as refilling the feeding bin, Tatiana arched her
shoulders backwards with a happy sigh when she felt her back
pop slightly in response of her actions.

There, that feels much better She thought happily.

Putting the tools that she used back in their proper places,
she got the broom and swept that walkway area clean of the old
materials that had been removed from the interior then hung
that up as well once she was finished using it.

Heading over to the basin, she gave herself a quick wash off
to get rid of any left over straw or hay that might have stuck
to her skin while she was busy with that row before doing the
other rows of the stable.

Deciding to head over to the Tavern to grab a bite of
something to eat as well as take a break, Tatiana took a quick
look around to make sure that everything was the way it was
before she left the stables.

Seeing the large group milling about, she decided to head over
there for someone to talk to or with before going on her way.
"Hi guys." Tatiana said polietly with a nod and a friendly
smile as she didn't get that much of a chance to talk with
them before hand.

She decided to keep close to Brendyn, Jols, and a few of the
others that she knew or knew of as she felt more comfortable
and was able to let down her guard safely in their company
with them around than with the newest Roman soldier, who she
didn't know or trust.

The hawk on the dark-haired lady's arm caught and held her
attention. "That's a pretty hawk, I've never seen one this
up-close before."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Sun Oct 19, 2008 7:31 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot shivered again when they gained the courtyard; he
hated being cold and yet it seemed he was always so in this
place.

Unless Arthur’s hand was on his skin, and then he was too hot
to not touch back.

Quiet, fool – that way lies madness. Aside from the fact he’s
pretty much ignored every true thought and feeling you’ve just
spat at his feet.

Forget it. It is better this way.

But Lancelot’s head wasn’t quite as loud as his heart,
unfortunately. The withered and hurt thing banged away
painfully inside his chest, even as Arthur did not answer him
again while they walked toward the dungeon. And yet…and yet.
And yet – gods, Lancelot was tired of considering everything.
Since when did he care about nuances? Since never?

He canted his head so he could see Arthur out of his injured
eye better, and the pendant he never took off - except once -
scraped against his bare chest under his tunic. His arrow
wound twinged, and he raised a hand to adjust the necklace as
it seemed to catch at him strangely.

Not now, sister

Arthur
 
“Perhaps I shall have a word of counsel with Galahad
when I return. I have neglected the men in recent days…I
trust that you will avoid activities that would result
in an injury to your remaining ‘good’ eye in my
absence.”


Lancelot shook his head wryly. “As you say. I wouldn’t concern
myself overly with it; don’t fret, Arthur. They still love
you, despite your recent…incapacitation.” Aware of his choice
of words – it was the truth, the men were loyal to Arthur - he
rubbed at his eye again and winced, cursing under his breath
as the steam from Arthur’s speaking rose in the air around
them. By the gods, but it was cold. He hated this place. Hated
it – and then they were inside the large stone structure, and
he was still chilled…and Arthur stopped him.

Arthur
 
“You are closest to me….and I will need your council
more than I care to admit in the coming days, my
friend…And not because I think on you as my obedient
‘pet’.”


Lancelot’s dark eyes turned from Arthur’s face to the fingers
that rested gently and quickly on Lancelot’s forearm. He bit
his lip as he retracted his arm; his own hand rising to brush
over the sleeve of his jerkin as if something had stained it.
He shrugged, the movement causing his whole body to ache
again, and his stomach gurgled loudly in the weird silence of
the corridor. The torches flickered and crackled, and Lancelot
could smell the stench that came from the building. No matter
how nicely things were kept here – and prisoners were treated
better here at Badon than any other fortress, he was certain –
it still reeked of capture and hopelessness.

A small smile creased Lancelot’s battered face; he understood
those emotions far too well. He tried to shake off whatever
feeling it was that took his spine and wouldn’t let it go the
second they had entered this place, and he cocked his head as
he gazed at Arthur. The man was infuriatingly confusing … he’d
ignored Lancelot’s baring of his soul mere moments ago, and
now he wanted to reassure Lancelot he was ‘close’ to him?

His fingers brushed the dagger that was now stored in a secret
sheath in his coat; he thanked the knight he’d taken it from
again silently as he played with the hilt of the thing.

“…I am no father figure,” he murmured. “I am not sure what
kind of council I can offer…Artos.”

I cannot even offer you my truth.

He followed the other man to the cell where the Woad girl was
being kept, and was pleasantly surprised to see Neeve there as
well as the little bitch who’d tried to cut Arthur’s throat.
Lancelot leaned into Neeve briefly, touching her cheek with a
light brush of fingers. “Glad to see you, healer. Although
surprised as well. How has this little princess managed to
convince you to help her?” His smile was dark and twisted, and
he lounged against the wall of the cell even though he felt
like his throat would close from the claustrophobic size of
the place. Arthur seemed to fill the tiny room; his shining
armour and pristine cloak a marked contrast when compared to
the wild warrior girl…or so she’d been the last time Lancelot
had seen her.

She looked bad. Tired and dirty and weak – although the fire
in her eyes was still there. Perhaps banked…but not gone.

Another presence; the first knight turned and noted Tristan,
hovering on the edges of the corridor. “Scout,” he said, and
turned so his back was to the small group in the cell. Arthur
could handle this; he didn’t need Lancelot’s ‘council’ on what
to do with an enemy – besides, their opinions would differ, he
was certain.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 3:05 am

Neeve


Neeria
 
"Be careful speaking about things you know nothing
about. Mikel was all I had in this world. How dare you
speak ill of him. You will not do it again. I blame
myself for nothing. Nothing more than trying to purge
the filth that tries to take over my....our....land."


“Like I care…”, Neeve retorted and with all of her heart. She
considered Neeria’s loss merely a fair trade to her own…even
though the death of her family had been years ago. The
memories were still vivid…and painful.

Neeria
 
"You're threatening me, woman? I can see it in your
eyes, in your voice, even in the way that you stand. You
are a native - a prisoner of this war just like me. Even
if you could leave this place, where would go? Brittain
is in your blood - she will never leave you. Not
everything is always as it seems,"


“Threat. Advice…your decision to make…”, the raven-haired
woman replied and again there was the slight chill in her
voice, “…but remember it well, because there is nothing you
could say that would change my mind about this.”

Even if you could leave this place, where would go? Brittain
is in your blood - she will never leave you.

Where would she go? That was actually a good question… And for
the first time in a long while, Neeve actively remembered her
time on the ship of Lucius' father and all the things about
travelling the world Lucius had told her. Yes, there was a way
to get away from her native country… The question was: did she
really want it?

Then Neeria’s voice brought her back to the here and now
again…and wiped away all private thoughts and memories. And
Neeve was proficient in switching from pensive to focused and
professional, which was exactly what she did right now…

Neeria
 
"I will admit that it is true that Arthur spared my life
and it is possible that I misjudged him. This Arthur is
not the monster I thought he was. It was not he who cut
off my husband's arm and stole things from his body as
he lay bleeding to death on the ground. It was not
Arthur, no. I will never forget that man's face."


Neeve lifted her chin and furrowed her brow at the Woad’s
words but she had no chance to say anything about them for
there suddenly was a noisy commotion in the corridor outside
the cell and a group of men came by. The healer turned her
head a little but was not really interested in what exactly
was happening when one of the men stopped and stuck his head
into the cell…

Karl
 
"Ah, you're tending to the woad bitch, eh? You should
let her die. Give me 10 minutes with her and I'd make
sure she'd wish she was dead,"


The Briton crossed her arms before her chest and regarded the
old man who was glancing into the cell. Karl. Of course. One
of the few people she certainly would not miss should they get
killed in a battle or die of disease. “Not that it would be
any of your business…”, Neeve stated dryly and glanced levelly
at the soldier, “…but if I wanted this one dead I could very
well do it myself. Thank you…” She then arched an eyebrow at
the man which was her subtle way of telling him to leave…and
the Roman indeed went by his own business again.

Neeria
 
"Who was that man?"


Neeve shook her head and didn’t even consider leaving the cell
to see what on earth was going on outside and who the soldiers
were bringing down here and why. Besides: she didn’t like Karl
anyway. “That…was just the grumpiest soldier on this island”,
the Briton said with a roll of her eyes, “…no one worth any
bit of attention…” She snorted and was just about to add
another comment about Karl when…

Arthur
 
"Neeve."


The healer’s head whipped around when a very familiar voice
suddenly said her name and her blue eyes immediately fell on
Arthur. Automatically she eyed him critically but decided to
not address her concerns about his plan for the day in front
of the Woad prisoner. No matter what Neeria had tried to
convince her to, Neeve would give the girl no chance to find
any weakness about Arthur which she could use to try to kill
him again. “Commander…”, the healer merely said with a nod of
her head and made a step backwards to give the Roman more
space in the small cell. Why was he here?

And while the Briton was inching backwards, she almost
collided with yet another person by the cell-door…

Lancelot
 
“Glad to see you, healer. Although surprised as well.
How has this little princess managed to convince you to
help her?”


The raven-haired woman tilted her head a little and met the
Sarmatian’s dark gaze with her blue one. “It’s my job, First
Knight…”, she replied and smirked slightly, “…and the way I
see it, I might as well just go on with you…” With that she
briefly lifted her free hand and gestured up and down
Lancelot’s more or less battered form. “Besides…I just had a
serious word with the little Woad princess, too…and I hope she
got my point…”, Neeve added for the Sarmatian’s ears only and
now mirrored the knight’s dark and twisted smile before he
turned around to probably guard the corridor and she leaned
sideways against the cell-wall just by the door to keep an eye
on Neeria and Arthur. The Briton heard Lancelot greeting
Tristan, who apparently had returned to the dungeons, too…but
she decided to not pay any attention to the scout’s presence
for now. Her attention was on Arthur and Neeria. Neeve had
warned the Woad…one wrong look at the Commander and the healer
wouldn’t guarantee for anything…
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 5:52 am
Neeria


Neeria stood staring at the healer, mouth open, waiting for a
response. All the other words, threats, had fallen by the
wayside once Neeria had seen the man who had killed her
husband. She had to know his name! The man must die and Neeria
would do it with her own hands.

Neeve
 
“That…was just the grumpiest soldier on this island…no
one worth any bit of attention…”


Before they continue, or before Neeria could learn of the
man’s name, another set of foot steps came down the corridor,
stopping just on the other side of the healer.

Arthur
 
”Neeve”


Neeria froze. Her body simply locked up on her upon hearing
that voice. Just then, Arthur Castus himself appeared in the
doorway, his first knight right beside him. The Commander
towered over the small woad and she had to tilt her back to
take in his full height. Even in the darkness, Neeria could
make out Arthur’s chiseled features; strong chin and jaw,
penetrating stare. He stood with his hands on his hips, boring
a gaze into her. Neeria felt like she cowered against that
stare. It was not mean, it was not hateful, but it seemed as
though the man looked right through to her soul. Even though
she was not cold, Neeria crossed her arms over her chest and
shivered. who is this man that emanates such power? The spell
was broken when Lancelot spoke.

Lancelot
 
“Glad to see you, healer. Although surprised as well.
How has this little princess managed to convince you to
help her?”


Neeve
 
“It’s my job, First Knight…and the way I see it, I might
as well just go on with you…Besides…I just had a serious
word with the little Woad princess, too…and I hope she
got my point…”,


Neeria smirked.

“Ah, dark knight,” she said, “how lovely. We meet again. You
came to have breakfast with me then, did you?”

Another set of footsteps approached the cell and Lancelot
turned.

Lancelot
 
”Scout”


Neeria craned her neck around Neeve to peer into the corridor.

“Tristan? Tristan is here?” she asked.
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 7:06 am
Tristan


Lancelot
 
"Scout."


Neeria
 
"Tristan? Tristan is here?"


"Damn." Tristan mouthed the word as Neeria's much-too-eager
voice suddenly piped up from inside the cell. Apparently even
Lancelot's soft, non-specific greeting was enough to alert her
to Tristan's presence- she was like a leech, latching on to
any hint of his proximity. Feeling pained, Tristan gave a
tight shake of his head, indicating- and praying- that
Lancelot should not say anything that might give him
definitively away. She surely couldn't see him from here- not
really, not around the cell door- right? The scout backed up a
step just to make sure, further away from the door and outside
of the spill of dim light from the nearest high, small, barred
window, into the shadow.

"What's Arthur doing with her?" Tristan asked Lancelot, in a
low, urgent whisper. "Still keeping her?" his disapproval of
that course of action was strongly evident in his voice. They
ought to get rid of that Woad, and all Woads in the fort, as
soon as they damn well could, preferably by slitting their
throats.
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Author: Darya
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 7:15 am
Darya


Darya had to admit that she was glad that the brawl between
Barbattus and Mirtha didn’t get worse…but the smithy and
stablemaster was brought away soon. She didn’t know the man
well…but perhaps a punishment was exactly what he needed for
he had appeared to be…drunk. And the dark-haired hoped that
Barbattus would forget about this incident soon…and would not
allow his temper to get himself and Mirtha into even more
trouble. Yes, the current unstable situation with the Woads
was probably keeping everyone more or less…jumpy and huffy,
but the men pummeling one another would certainly not help
changing this…

Tatiana
 
"That's a pretty hawk, I've never seen one this up-close
before."


The female Sarmatian smiled faintly. It was interesting how
much attention one got with a hawk sitting on one’s arm. And
it was almost a funny thought considering whose hawk it
actually was…and considering how much its true owner actually
hated too much attention. But then…the bird of prey was more
or less a part of Tristan…thus seeing the scout with the
animal was nothing special anymore, was it? Well, at least it
wasn’t for Darya…

Then the dark-haired regarded the young girl before her a bit
closer. She couldn’t recall having met her before…but by the
way she had greeted the men around them, Darya figured that
the girl knew at least some of them…so she couldn’t be
completely new to Badon. However, Darya glanced from the girl
to Tristan’s hawk and back. “Yes, she’s pretty…but their true
beauty can only be admired while they’re soaring in the sky…”,
the Sarmatian then replied and a corner of her mouth twitched
slightly, “…don’t you think?”
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Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 9:43 am
Tatiana


Feeling comfortable in the company and horses that were
standing around, Tatiana looked at the hawk's coloring a bit
more closely. She decided to introduce herself to the
dark-haired as one more friend was always a good idea and no
one can have too manty friends.

"Hi, Its nice to meet you, I'm Tatiana and you are?" She said
introducing herself to the dark-haired lady. "I work in the
stables like Jols does but as a stablehand. He's the only
person I go to when I have a problem with a temperamental
horse."

Darya
 
“Yes, she’s pretty…but their true beauty can only be
admired while they’re soaring in the sky…”, , “…don’t
you think?”


"Yes, that's definetly true. I would watch them soar and dive
on the winds back home for hours, watching their graceful
movements in the sky." Tatiana agreed with her fully glancing
from her to the hawk and back

"Tristan's lucky to have such a beautiful bird trust him. It
says alot about someone that can do that."
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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 11:18 am
Mari


Linnette
 
“Yes- a couple of times.”


Had Linnette known all that Mari had seen and heard in her
short years she might have wept for the misery of it. Losing
her mother so young, following her father throughout the
country knowing that he did not wish her company, knowing that
he denied he had fathered her at all... the times he had tried
to leave her behind in a village she had lost count of. The
times he had gotten so drunk that he cursed her and her mother
to her very face were innumerable also. But Mari persevered
because her heart would not allow her to drown in this misery.
Adrianna's friendship and Milan's love had been the best
things to happen to Mari in her whole life.

Linnette
 
“Really? My father taught my sister and I when we were
children- we had no brothers, so he wanted us to know
everything needed to run our family’s Villa. This way,”


Mari followed Linnette dutifully, hastening a few steps, her
head bowed as she was told of how Linnette and her sister (how
Mari would have adored to have a sister!) had been taught
early by their father. She gave a brief smile of admiration at
the woman, and her eyes gave a little goggle when she
continued to mention the running of a villa. A villa!
The young woman knew that she had not been wrong to assume
Linnette was of good breeding, that she was much higher in
standing than most other people that she had brushed shoulders
with. Except Mordred... Mari's stomach did a painful flip and
the girl staggered a little, as if tripping on a stone. She
looked up just as they passed the main door of teh stables and
glanced in as Linnette did. She saw the scuffle and heard
raised voices. Her cheeks colored momentarily, thinkingher
father might be somewhere in that fracas, but instead of going
to assist him, she ducked her head and hurried after Linnette.

Linnette
 
“Why do men always fight?”


The young woman had not ever looked on it as that, but now
that Linnette said it and so bluntly, she could easily see
that fighting was always started and encouraged by men. She
cocked her head to the side and shrugged one shoulder up to
her ear.

"I don't know..." she murmured and then brightened a bit as
she thought of Milan. Her wide brown eyes peered over at
Linnette and for a moment she thought of mentioning Milan, of
saying how he did not fight btu avoided it at all costs, but
then she thought better of it. Linnette had just lost the man
in her life - the last thing she needed was to be told of
another's happiness whilst she was in the midst of such
misery.

Instead the young woman cleared her throat and went for more
safer ground.

"I had no brothers or sisters... " she observed, and thought
to herself that that sounded petulant so smiled as she
continued, looking admirably at Linnette's profile as they
walked. "You look like a Lady you know... A proper Lady like
in the stories. Proper Ladies who are strong and can shoot an
arrow and ride a horse and things, who go on adventures." Mari
rambled, giving a rueful chuckle at how silly she sounded to
herself, thanking her lucky stars they were almost to the
tavern now.









Drake

Drake had no intention on doing any piggy-back rides within
visibility of anyone. People already thought him strange
enough without mucking about like a child himself. Besides -
he never felt buoyant enough in spirit to be a child at heart
the way Fleur wanted him to be.

Cassidy & Fleur
 
"She said her name was Catherine,"

"Uh-huh! An' she telled us a story! Well... 'afore Sissy was mean an' she went away..."

"Did not,"


The Spaniard was at a loss to react to the childish antics
between the two of them. He gave a rather bewildered look to
Cassidy who he had thought would be beyond such juvenile
tactics as sticking out her tongue. But he stored away the
information regardless- a woman named Catherine. There weren't
too many of them in the fort -- most went by diminutives of
Catherine like Kitty, or Cat so Drake held a flicker of hope
to discover who this was.

His thoughts were interrupted by teh approach of someone very
small but very bristly. He turned to look down over his
shoulder at Linnette with blonde hair. She looked piqued.
Linnesse -- Drake slowly turned to look at her, eyebrow cocked
slightly.

Linnesse
 
"Can I help you with something, sir?"


She was frosty to him, chiding him by her very looks though
she did not seem as overtly confident in the way Linnette was.
If Linnette had wanted him away from the girls he would have
been gone by now - but Linnesse was much more placid than her
sister, much more biddable and timid. Drake lifted his hand to
stroke his chin. He knew the question was not sincere, that it
was her way of telling him he had no place to be here near the
girls, but he was never one to be so blatanly turned aside. So
isntead of making apologies and leaving, Drake cleared his
throat to speak.

"No. Thank you." he went to turn back to the girls but lifted
his finger to the air, a look of wondering coming over his
stoic features as he peered down at Linnesse with intense
green eyes. He semed to tower over her slight form, his broad
shoulders shadowing her. He fancied his hand was large enough
to encircle her waist in it's entirety so slight was she.
Linnette was not as tiny - she was small, yes, but not in a
fragile sense - not when compared to her sister.

"Actually... do you know who Catherine is? The girls said she
gave them these dresses." and he did not explain his reasons
for wanting to know who Catherine was. He simply looked down
at Linnesse expectantly, shrugging off her chilly looks and
hostile stance.
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Author: Darya
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 11:26 am
Darya


…but before Darya had the chance to react to the strange
girl’s words about the hawk, the girl spoke again…

Tatiana
 
"Hi, Its nice to meet you, I'm Tatiana and you are? I
work in the stables like Jols does but as a stablehand.
He's the only person I go to when I have a problem with
a temperamental horse."


The dark Sarmatian blinked at the flood of words that hit her
rather unexpectedly. There weren’t that many people at Badon,
who told a stranger three or more things about themselves so
soon and without being asked. Not that Darya would hold that
against the girl…she was just not used to it. Though when
Tatiana asked for her name, the Sarmatian furrowed her brow
for a moment…instinctively assessing the girl about whether or
not she could be some kind of threat for her. Like a spy sent
by Corvus… Gods, how paranoid was that? Darya inwardly rolled
her eyes at herself and cleared her throat. “Pleasure to meet
you, Tatiana…”, she said with a nod, “I’m Darya…temporary
hawk-sitter…” A corner of the woman’s mouth twitched slightly
at her own last words and she glanced at the bird on her arm
again for a moment…and only now reacted to Tatiana’s earlier
words about the bird of prey…

…immediately getting a reaction from the girl again…

Tatiana
 
”Yes, that's definetly true. I would watch them soar and
dive on the winds back home for hours, watching their
graceful movements in the sky. Tristan's lucky to have
such a beautiful bird trust him. It says alot about
someone that can do that."


“Oh, I’m sure he is very aware of what he has in this
beauty…”, the Sarmatian replied, shifting her gaze back at
Tatiana as she did so, “…and I feel honored that he trusts me
with her…and that she seems to trust me so far…” Darya
breathed a quiet laugh and straightened her back a little.

“You are rather new to Badon, aren’t you?”, the dark-haired
then asked the girl with honest interest, “Do you like the
work as stable-hand?”
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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 12:05 pm

Arthur


…I am no father figure, I am not sure what kind of council I
can offer…Artos.

Lancelot’s words seemed to hang in Arthur’s mind even now as
he was faced with his duty as ‘Commander’ and the two men were
no longer alone to discuss anything private. Lancelot had
addressed Arthur by his boyhood name – which spoke of an
intimate bond that must still remain between them. Perhaps all
is not lost there and the council that Arthur sought would not
be on fatherhood in itself anyways. …another whore….

Neeve’s familiar voice drew Arthur out of his own personal
thoughts as she addressed him by his rank….

Neeve
 
"Commander."


Arthur offered his longtime friend a small smile with placid
green eyes. No doubt the healer would want to know how her
patient faired this morning - Arthur easily surmised from
Neeve’s scrutinizing gaze until she backed away to turn her
attentions to Lancelot.

The Commander’s gaze then returned to his pitiful little
captive….Neeria was her name if Arthur’s memory served him.

Neeria
 
“Ah, dark knight how lovely. We meet again. You came to
have breakfast with me then, did you?”


Instead of taking note of the Commander – the tallest figure
in the small cell, dressed in all his officious finery and
standing directly in front of her – the Woad girl addressed
Lancelot instead. Arthur cocked a single annoyed brow at
Neeria and although he hadn’t thought intimidation would be
necessary to get her attention, stepped closer still so that
his broad frame completely blocked Neeria’s view of those
standing just beyond the opening of her holding cell. It was
now only Arthur and Neeria face to face and alone within the
tiny space….and yet when Lancelot spoke from behind while
moving away….

Neeria
 
“Tristan? Tristan is here?”


Arthur had been aware of the words spoken between Neeve and
Lancelot who were somewhat behind the Commander now, but
Tristan? Arthur had not heard the Scout’s voice among them. He
turned enough to follow Neeria’s gaze, but the dark shadows in
the corridor concealed the identity of whomever it was
Lancelot now addressed. Of course Arthur was fairly certain
that it was indeed Tristan, as there would be no other
Lancelot would address as ‘scout’. But how would this Woad
know that? Then Arthur recalled being informed that this girl
had been screaming for Tristan all the night before.
Interesting.

“Tristan has made quite an impression on you in the short time
you have been among us….Neeria,” Arthur curiously said as he
slightly canted his head to the side while once again
regarding the Woad before him. Odd indeed. Typically it was
Gawain, Galahad or Lancelot that aroused the attentions of the
local females. No matter. Arthur had a point to his visit here
and would get to it.

“I have no intention of holding you captive, child,” Arthur
continued while crossing his arms over his broad chest; his
tone gentle enough as if speaking to an innocent young girl
caught up in matters beyond her comprehension. In his eyes,
Neeria was only a down trodden flower caught under the plow as
the men tilled the fields of this land. Of course Arthur knew
nothing of this young woman’s circumstances, history or
skills….but she was his only link to Merlin at present. So he
was forced to ‘use’ her as it were. Yet, Arthur was not one to
resort to fear and torture to garner what he wished for from a
hostile captive.

“Do you recall our agreement from the day before? It still
stands. I wish to know where I may locate Merlin and I will
set you free,” Arthur stated his ‘terms’ in a tone that
brooked no argument; his emerald eyes reflected his sheer
determination and his confidence that this girl would
capitulate.
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