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| October 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 1 2010, 05:17 PM (3,209 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:07 PM Post #181 |
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Author: Kay Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 12:40 pm Guinevere Guinevere was aware of people talking to her, but the words did not seem to register. Her father urged her to check on the wounded, and one of the Woads, a girl named Rosita, was asking after her wellbeing. The Woad princess shook her head and said nothing. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she turned and walked away through the trees, seeking solitude and wishing that everyone would let her be. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:08 PM Post #182 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 12:48 pm Neeria Neeria craned to see past the people that stood at the entrance of her cell but she couldn't see anything. She couldn't see Tristan, but the dark knight had clearly said "scout". Arthur moved closer to her, blocking her view. Neeria smelled the wax from his armor. She'd feared having to talk him and for that reason had not spoken to him directly. She hadn't even made eye contact with him in the dim light of the cell corridor. Neeria wasn't afraid of him but afraid of herself and her actions while in his company. When Arthur was close to her, she could not hate him. He was flesh and bones, yes, but he radiated something far more than that. There was something inside of him that oozed out of his pores. It made Neeria uneasy. She feared she would give this man everything he asked of her. But she was a woad - a loyal woad - closer to Guinevere and Merlin as anyone could be. The small woman cursed to herself as ice continued to slide down her spine. Finally, she looked up at the commander as he stood even close to her with his arms folded across his chest. She wanted to reach out and touch him - to see if he was real.
Neeria looked at the floor, then back at Arthur. Her knees were wobbling just a little. She cleared her throat. "He was kind to me when you brought me here. He brought me a blanket and made sure they gave me food and took me to the sick place where we got help for our wounds. He also came last night when I called for him because I was frightened." She coughed again and held her injured side. "He reminds me of..." she said "...of my fallen husband" just above a whisper that she hoped only Arthur could hear. Neeria sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of the filthy tunic she wore. The nervous woad shifted her weight from one foot to the other under Arthur's watchful eyes. Then she sneezed and scratched her head. Bits of something filtered from her hair to the cell floor and scurried away.
Neeria's dark eyes widened and she drew a deep breath.
Neeria snorted. "What?" she asked increduously. "I already took your men to Merlin! I kept my promise!" she shrieked. "Now you ask me to betray him again?" The small woman's anger flared up suddenly. "Why?" she screamed. "And when I tell you where he is once more and you set me free, where will I go, Roman? Eh? Where will I go? For Merlin will surely behead me! I am already a traitor in his eyes!" Neeria gasped for air. She refused to break down in front of these....these...people. But the pain and despair she felt was too much. She'd lost too much in the past few days. The filth and stench, the hunger and fatigue had beaten her down and she was unable to control herself any longer. She began to wail from the agony, from the pit of her stomach, over her situation, falling against Arthur's broad chest. "Where will I go?" she cried, looking up and finally locking onto his emerald green eyes. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:09 PM Post #183 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 12:53 pm Tatiana and Jols Jols, after hearing his name being spoken looked around to see who it was that knew him. When he saw that it was Tatiana, he grinned over at seeing the young stable-hand talking with Darya. "I guess that we now have a new title to call you by, Darya." He said with a mischievious twinkle dancing in his dark brown eyes as a wide grin appeared across the squire's face in response to what the dark-haired just called herself. "Darya..that's quite a lovely name." Tatiana replied with a friendly smile in her new friend's direction after the dark-haired told her her name.
"Yes, I suppose that you could say that, if you haven't seen me before. I'm originally from the village that's just on the outskirts of Badon." "Yes, I find it very exciting work, being with the animals and all, although if it hadn't been for my Father's kind intervention on my behalf with my Mother, I really wouldn't be here at all." Tatiana replied truthfully. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:11 PM Post #184 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 1:46 pm Linnette
"Really?" Linnette laughed at that, a good-natured laugh as she eyed Mari with surprise. "Thank you- that's quite a compliment." She laughed again, her cheeks warming a little, but the girl was so...so earnest, so awed, it was hard not to be both amused and charmed by her, more than embarrassed at her extravagant words. And even though Mari's definition of "proper Lady" was unusual- few people thought of Ladies as arrow-shooting, adventuring creatures- it hit nearer the truth of some of Linnette's life than Mari could possibly really know. Linnette ducked her head and chuckled again as she held the tavern door open for Mari, thinking with sudden nostalgic affection how Gedeon would have reacted to hearing Mari's words. Agreed with all of them, probably, but with some sort of comfortable joke and a kiss. She missed him terribly. "Perhaps sometime I can show you how to shoot- unless your father already taught you?" she asked as they went inside, knowing that she was confirming by her words at least some of what Mari said, and hoping that it was not bragging to do so- but Mari was so eager, she might be a lot of fun to teach. If she didn't know already. For all Linnette knew, Kolya might have raised her on weapons and horses. Sarmatian women were said to ride and fight like men, at least at need. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:14 PM Post #185 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 2:41 pm Eala Luckily his words had been too quick and too sudden for Eala to understand what he meant. She cocked her head to the side, like a confused hound, looking up at it's master waiting to be told what to do. She knew that there was a small hut back in the village that belonged to her and Donnchadh but the thoughts of going back there were almost unbearable to the child. Her big, black eyes peered upwards, even more intense as she thought of going back there. Her small fists balled up on her thighs and she almost reached out to take Ash's hand to comfort herself. Whilst sitting tehre with only him to watch her , Eala felt she might be herself a little more, that she might be a little bit more of a ten-year-old than a 90-year-old. Donnchadh had seen this side of her of course, but only back in the safety of their little hut. Now, bereft of her brother, bereft of those things that brought her some comfort like her little throwing knives and the belt buckle of her lost leathers, Eala felt truly, utterly, miserably alone. Save for Ash...
That was enough for her for now. Eala gave Ash a small smile of thanks and took his hand all too willingly. It was almost sad how quickly she had come to cling to him. It had not been intentional - she had not been looking to have someone the way she had had Donnchadh, but Ash ahd seemed to just be there when she needed him most. He seemed to be the one who was most aware of her being right there. The blonde let go his hand as they moved back towards the others, her black eyes narrowing at the smell of horse. She looked side to side, warily, but saw then that it was just Smith with his silly horse. The girl gave a snort of disdain, recalling all too well how it had been to be slung over the neck of one of those huge beasts and then tossed without thought or care into a dungeon. Her black eyes peered across the others towards Smith and she glanced up at Ash then, quirking an eyebrow at him in silent questionning of what he thought of the man and his horse. Donnchadh had been rather impressed with the idea but had never been comfortable, given his bulk, to be sat upon a horse. There were tears still drying on her jaw as she looked up at Ash, a haunting darkness still about her eyes which darted to the side suddenly, to where Mona had been lain, only to see an empty patch of bloodied mud. With a sniff of confidence in Merlin, now that the corpse was no longer to be seen, Eala nodded her head in satisfaction at the justice and looked back up at Ash, wondering if he would be proud of the fact that she was no longer scared... or would he realise that it was the body was no longer there? Saoirse
So earnest! So offended! Saoirse gave a wry smile and reached over to Dagonet's cheek, touching the bristles of beard growth that had set in over the past few days and gave a small breath of laughter. Her blue eyes were tired as they narrowed. She leaned forward and kissed his chin, dipping her nose to the hollow of his neck where she breathed in the warm scent of him deeply, as if to prove that she was not offended by the smell. Withdrawing, the red head looked at her lover and shrugged, sliding her hand from his face to lay on his shoulder a moment before sitting back and setting about getting the food into him. "If ye can't smell nothin' wrong wi' how yer clothes stink of horse and blood then there's somethin' wrong wi' yer nostrils, Dagonet." she chided, gesturing to the bloodied waist of his trousers were teh wound in his side had seeped blood down his strong stomach to the band of his breeches. She cocked an eyebrow and took one of the small honey-cakes for herself, giving Dagonet the bundle with the rest of the food as she sat back, knee pressed against the side of the bed and watched him carefully. Just as she lifted her eyes from Dagonet, a figure ghosted past with head bowed. Alina - another of the healers at the infirmary. Saoirse suddenly felt guilty for having neglected her 'training' so blithely. Had she not promised herself that she would find a trade, find a talent that was nothing to do with stabbing and riding and shouting? Pursing her lips, the red head look at the honey-cake and chewed about the edges. "Dagonet... ? Would ye think I'd make a good healer? Or herbalist... or somethin' like tha'. I was readin' the books Lavinia has inside the back there an'... It's somethin' I think I could do." she admitted with a faint blush to her cheeks, to admit to doing something so unmilitant as healing. Smith
Smith would not admit to wanting or ever needing physical contact, but his choice to live such a hermitted life was brightened when someone was willing to lay a hand on someone so reclusive. Of course, with Kayley it didn't really count because she lived with him. She saw him in a different light than the others did - and it was only normal to presume that she knew him better than the others. When her hand left his collar bone, the male pursed his lips and smirked, a strong,vibrant sparkling of his dark eyes, as he tipped his chin to his chest and lifted his free hand to pull his collar back up to ward off the cold. The movement pained but he simply grit his teeth and shifted his feet, giving a bark of amusement at Kayley's words. "My condition..." he repeated with a roll of his heavenly dark eyes, looking over his shoulder at Scáth's fierce, black eyes. Kayley's pale hand shot out to touch the beast's coat and Smith smiled, a genuinely affectionate smile to see someone treat the horse as a horse and not as a bizarre accroutment. And then to make matters worse, his statement to Rosita seemed to fall on deaf ears as she skirted off without so much as acknowledging that he had spoken to her at all. Smith's mouth gaped open and the corners of his eyes crinkled in startled amusement. And there he thought he had her in the palm of his hand with the way she simpered at him, blushing prettily and ... The male woad gave a rough laugh and shook his head bemusedly, relaxing back, his shoulder pressed against Scáth's flank as he turned his sparkling smile back to Kayley.
When he noted her change in mood, Smith turned to look at what caused it. Mona's body being removed. He winced slightly and swallowed back the bile that rose so prominently in his throat. Folding one arm over his chest, propping his elbow against that arm, the male woad knuckled against his chin, discreetly checking the flexibility of his shoulders with the injury of his collarbone. "In a moment... tell me what I have missed first. Merlin told me of Eala, and Neeria. What of Mona? And what possesses Guinevere to such sulky silences? And why is Micah glaring at me so fierce?" Smith tossed the last in in a slightly higher pitch than the rest, obviously poking fun at the other man's obvious desire for Kayley. Mari
That she cheered Linnette even in this little way was by any stretch of the imagination deliberate. Mari spoke her mind with such naive honesty that she inadverntly caused great joy in some people and abject misery in others. She was pleased that her comments were considered such a compliment to Linnette, and she reaffirmed her opinion by giving a brisk and sincere nod of her head, her face ever so grave and serious when Linnette turned to her, in response to the rhetoric of 'really?'. Of course the image of a 'real lady' to Mari was gleaned from teh most unlikely of sources. From bawdy tales told by men in taverns to a pretty little blonde child that had been left behind whilst her father went off with a whore, tellings of strong women made to the girl by a whore who took pity on the poor child's situation as her father got himself miserably drunk right in front of her. People had always favoured telling Mari stories of strong women, capable women - instead of milk-sop maids who cried at the drop of a stitch.
Mari stumbled over her own foot in surprise at Linnette's offer. Her eyes were wide as she reached out a hand casually to stop herselffalling through the door that Linnette held open. Her eyes were the size of saucers and she gave an incredulous hiccup of a laugh before realising Linnette was serious. "Really? You ... can use a ... and you'll?" she murmured, turning once inside the tavern to look at Linnette, then blindly hunkered down, still staring up at the hazel-eyed woman, to gather the papers that she had sent sprawling when she stumbled. "No - no he hasn't taught me anything like that at all, my Lady. He's ... well, he's.." Mari's voice trailed off, a light frown piercing the smooth pale skin of her forehead as she puffed out a breath. She rose to her feet once more, the muddied bundle of papersheld to her chest like a warming cushion. "Well, he's not really taught me anything, Lady Linnette. I don't have any real talents of skills. I can barely sew and cook miserably." she laughed, a little high-pitched to be normal, genuine amusement, but tinged with embarrassment. She looked up sheepishly at Linnette then, smiling despite the evidence of such a miserable upbringing coming to light. "Except drawing of course. My mother could draw, father told me. So I kept trying until I could too." she admitted shyly, shrugging her shoulder high and then turned to look around the tavern, wondering if said father would be about. Thankfully, he wasn't. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:16 PM Post #186 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 2:48 pm Arthur At last Arthur appeared to have Neeria’s attention, albeit she seemed to be having some difficulty in directly holding his gaze. The floor seemed to be of particular interest.
Arthur’s brows rose slowly towards his hairline as he listened to Neeria’s explanation; green eyes watched every nuance in her expression judging her words to be her truths. He knew Tristan to be a good man, but rare was the occasion that the scout reached out to those not of his own kind or fellow knights. Fallen husband? Neeria was perhaps older than Arthur had judged by her childlike appearance. Then again…she had been fierce in her attempt to slit his throat the other day. And as if to remind him of a fire that did indeed burn in her belly, the delicate and frightened girl began to show her warrior side again…..
Arthur’s green eyes narrowed at Neeria as she shrieked her responses at him; the amber flakes glinting particularly bright in the torchlight while he listened with acute interest. The corner of his mouth twitched in mild annoyance, but his expression remained firm and emotionless in the face of a ‘child throwing a tantrum’ over what Arthur deemed a simple request. Why would Merlin see her as a traitor over what was a failed meeting for Arthur’s men? And judging from what Malcus and Amadeus had reported, Neeria had not been of much help in leading them to Merlin at all. The Woad leader had found them. But before the Commander could begin his retort, the girl literally fell against Arthur’s chest and he had no choice but to catch her lest she fall to the floor in a heap of tears and filth. The oversized clothing she wore felt just as dirty as it had appeared when Arthur’s fingers came into contact with the rough material. He attempted to steady Neeria with a firm hand at her back and released a stern breath through his nose. This was hardly what Arthur had had in mind…not that he was put off by the sour scent of an unwashed girl….but her condition did harvest his sympathy.
Arthur’s lips formed a tight thin line as he looked down into her tear-filled dark eyes. He had planned to allow Neeria to return to her people…or rather expected her to want to immediately upon her release. Beyond that, Arthur could only offer her shelter here with meager dwellings available in the wake of the fire damage and surely that was not what she’d want. And with the food shortage still unresolved, the Commander was hesitant to take in further mouths to feed this winter. “I can only offer to escort you back to your people today or allow you to remain here for the time being,” Arthur made his offer as he gently attempted to return Neeria to stand on her own two feet. He had no want to cradle her body against his any longer…..lest Arthur being ‘Arthur’ would begin to pity the very same ‘warrior’ that had attempted to take his life only days ago. And he could feel Lancelot’s – and most likely Neeve’s as well – protectiveness flaring up from behind. Oh Arthur was in no danger from this one....but he knew how the Dark Knight would view this. And the Commander still wished for information from the girl and would have no chance at getting it if one of his ‘protectors’ swiftly moved in with a dagger. Inwardly, Arthur rolled his eyes at the thought. “You have no need to fear me, Neeria,” Arthur murmured down into Neeria’s frightened expression – simply assuming that she was. And the fact that Neeve was present here led Arthur to also deduce that Neeria had a need for the Briton’s skills as a healer. No injury was evident to his eyes…..but…. “I intend to make peace with Merlin today. I ask that you tell me where it is that I may find him and you may either accompany me, or remain here until you are recovered,” Arthur stated with clarity as he held the girl more at an arm’s length than allowing her to remain attached to his breastplate. |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:17 PM Post #187 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 2:52 pm Brendyn He had seen Tatiana enter the stable with a cheery greeting earlier, and before he had had a chance to reply, she had walked inside the stables to work. Then the fight had broken out between Malcus and Mirtha, blood and the sounds of punching and cracking could be heard...plus the shouts. Well, seeing that Malcus had told Titrus that he was okay, to ask him again might not be a good thing. He did look a mess though. Then Tatiana had returned to the group with a cheery greeting as though nothing had gone on. Most women would have been screaming and panicking, but the fight had not even seemed to phase her. Tatiana had come to stand next to he, Jols and Malcus and a few others. He nodded a greeting to her, but instead she began to talk to Darya. The situation did not make him feel uncomfortable, so he studied her for a second, then turned back to his wounded Captain and bowed slightly, then got ready to return to Tyranus... Adian Having placed the last shingle in place and secured it, Adian stood up and the other worker with him to admire the fine work. He had not laid roof tiles in a while, but the man he had been working with had shown him a good technique which worked well. Nodding to the man, Adian said, "Well, a nice morning's work so far, I think I'll be heading off to the infirmary to fix some minor fire damage there." The man picked up his box of tools and headed toward the ladder making ready to climb down, "Aye, young lad, shouldn't take many to fix that. Me and the others will head to check the storages to see if they need repairing." With a wave, the man ascended the ladder and met his fellow workers on the ground to head of to another job. Adian waved from the roof, and then ascended the ladder himself with his toolbox in one hand. In his mind, he planned out what he'd do for Tatiana later tonight. Would it be another moonlit bath? or just cozying in front of a roaring fire? As soon as his boot hit the ground, Adian began to walk toward the infirmary and his next job... |
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| golden_trillium | May 10 2010, 10:19 PM Post #188 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 7:54 pm Linnesse
"What?" For a moment, Linnesse was merely stunned. She had expected resistance to her obvious disapproval, anger, even, or, far less likely, for him to look guilty and slink off, but instead he had brushed right past it and asked a totally unrelated question. Catherine? Dresses? What on earth did that have to do with anything? "Er...Catherine? No, no, I don't." Linnesse's forehead wrinkled up in pretty, genteel puzzlement and she shook her head, feeling stymied by his change of subject. How was she to introduce the topic of what right on earth Drake had to be hanging around the girls, or around Linnesse's sister, now? She had been nerving herself up for God-knew-what disastrous confrontation, and now things had been taken completely off the path that she had been prepared for, leaving her feeling quite lost. "I don't..." Linnesse paused as a sudden thought came to her. "Are you sure her name wasn't Ione? There's a seamstress in the fort named Ione, and she brought me a dress last night that she said a customer hadn't wanted. It was a bit...odd." Linnesse stole an automatic glance back at the door of Ione's room, in time to see Sister Margaret enter again, then turned back to Drake and the girls, her confusion shading into impatience. Why was she letting herself be talked off the track into some tale about dresses? What did that have to do with anything? Merlin With the burial party rapidly getting ready to go, and the main group nearly packed and ready too, Merlin could once again feel that things were going well. The meager campfires of last night had been put out, Mona's body had been removed to under the bushes, as he had ordered, and behind him, Smith and Kayley were conversing, Kayley no doubt catching Smith up on the rest of what had happened. Guinevere was still...well, indecisive, difficult, even, but Merlin decided he would talk to her later. He wanted to check on Ash first, and then once he was assured that the wounded man was all right, they would be on their way. The prospect of the village had hardly ever seemed more welcoming. Ash wasn't anywhere near the litter that had carried him last night, a realization that at first concerned the Woad leader, but happily, he spotted the man a moment later, not too far away, but on the other side of a tree, with little Eala once more at his side. A small smile touched Merlin's lips- it was good to see someone bonding with the now-familyless girl. Not that she didn't have her extended family, her people, but she was still young enough that she needed a specific protector, a parental figure, and Donnchadh had filled that role very well. Now that he was, may the Gods rest him, dead, it seemed Ash was well on his way to stepping into the vacated role. "Are you well this morning, Ash?" Merlin greeted the wounded man heartily, as he wended his way between a couple of warriors rolling bedrolls to reach him. Linnette
"Well- drawing is a skill I definitely lack, so I'm grateful for anything you can do," Linnette remarked, bending down and retrieving from the floor another stray scrap of paper that Mari had missed- it had skittered right under the nearest table. She wondered if she should offer to take the papers from Mari- the girl seemed to have such a trouble holding onto them- but decided that given her protectiveness of them, Mari might prefer to hold on to them herself. "I can show you lots of those things, though, if you want." Linnette shrugged agreeably as she straightened up and held the paper out to Mari, to add back in with the rest of her motley collection. Her father hadn't taught her anything, she had said...and inferring from her words, it seemed like Mari remembered little of her mother. Sad, that...Linnette's head tilted slightly to one side as she regarded Mari shrewdly, and decided to voice something of what she had thought about Kolya earlier in the conversation- though in as polite a way as was possible. "Mari...don't take this the wrong way, but...you have my sympathies on your father. He doesn't seem like an easy man." Linnette shrugged again, apologetically now, and turned to continue across the tavern floor, flashing Vanora a grin as they passed the counter. "Vanora- I found someone who can draw!" Once again sparked with the desire to get this portrait-drawing started as soon as possible- almost as if the image of Gedeon might fade from her mind even today- Linnette quickened her steps as she led Mari across the tavern and into the kitchen, then towards the back door that led into the stairwell and thence to her office, where there was paper- an essential ingredient to this critical project. |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 12:52 PM Post #189 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 7:54 pm Nolan Merlin was running late, they should have been gone before now. It was too dangerous to stay in this spot without knowing if Arthur was returning. They had no way of knowing how much time they had to get everyone, including the sick and wounded, back to the village. Nolan looked over at the group that had assembled for the burial party. Various other clusters of people were busy tying up bundles and pouring water on smouldering embers. Juna walked the area with her medical supplies checking the sick and injured. Or the dead if they hadn't made it through the cold night. Rosita was with the burial group. Nolan took in the dark beauty with the olive skin. She'd done well that morning in gathering food. She was a mighty hunter and a good bow. He was glad to see her with the group just in case they ran into trouble along the way. Nolan looked over at Smith standing next to that beast of his. He was talking to Kayley. Nolan stooped down at one of the remaining buckets and scooped up some of the cool water, slurping it from his palm. Then he splashed some on his face. He shook his shoulder, letting his quiver fall into his hand and slide his blade further around his waist. It had been a long night and Nolan hadn't slept much. He was still kicking himself for letting Mona get that close to Merlin without hearing her moving about. He was much better than that. He was sure Merlin was disappointed in him. Nolan felt like he should have killed Mona long ago when she first showed signs of madness. He would make it up to the woad leader though. Merlin was engaged in conversation with Ash but Nolan hadn't really been listening. He looked Ash up and down and the young warrior didn't look any worse for the wear. Nolan was glad Ash had survived. He'd proven his bravery well by going back for Eala. "Ash," Nolan said when there was a break in the conversation, "how are you? How are your injuries?" |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 12:54 PM Post #190 |
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Author: Lancelot Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 8:08 pm Lancelot Lancelot laughed darkly at Neeve's assesing look at his battered form. He bowed self-depreciatingly as she spoke, and yet...before, it had been just he and Arthur, and he hadn't cared about his worn and dirty appearance. Now...gods forfend he should fuck up the reputation he'd built due to not just his ... prowess, but his physicality as well - after Eyla and then Catherine...Lancelot's angular and bruised face reflected the anger and confusion he'd been trying oh so very badly to hide.
He twisted his mouth wryly, and began to back out of the cell, one more dirty man dulling the shine that was Arthur Castus... resplendant in his Roman finery, outdoing them all. Especially the little Woad bitch that dared to look tiny and worn.
That little Woad bitch who also dared to speak to him. "Not for all the sesterces in the garrison, my darling," he shot back. "And you look worse than I do." His bloodshot gaze caught Arthur's eyes. "Your call, commander." Backing out of the cell, he faced Tristan, who seemed antsy and none too happy the girl had seemed to realize he was there, despite his staying hidden in the darker places of the corridor. Lancelot smirked at the scout's expression of horror, but did not say anything else to give Tristan away.
Lancelot's ire rose at that. Every sore place on his body began to protest, the pain flaring brightly in this dimly lit place. He moved closer to the scout and spoke in a low voice. "You tell me, Tristan. You were there when you saw...him," Lancelot touched the pendant he wore around his neck; a reflex when Merlin was mentioned. "The magician. What happened, Tristan? What did that hawk nosed bastard do to fuck things up so badly?" He tried to keep his voice down; he didn't want Arthur to hear, but if he did, so be it. The commander knew how Lancelot thought of the Optio. A headache threatened, and Lancelot raised his hand, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Tell me, Tristan. Why I am allowing him to ride out, a day and a night after his injury, to seek peace with the blue demon that laughed when my fingers were broken? Answer me that, scout." Lancelot turned burning eyes on Tristan, but canted his neck back toward the cell when a noise drew his attention. He stepped back a bit and frowned when he noted that Neeria seemed to have collapsed against Arthur's breastplate...and was she weeping? Moving closer, Lancelot gripped the hilt of his sword and spoke in a calm tone even as Arthur gently peeled the girl off his chest. "Arthur. What say you let the...princess sit down, of her own accord, hm?" He took another step, and did not release his grip on the weapon. Try it, girl. See how fast it gets you dead. |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 12:56 PM Post #191 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Oct 20, 2008 8:39 pm Tristan
Answer him? Tristan had no answer for any of the much more gregarious Lancelot's rhetorical questions, and very little for the more serious ones, like how had Scipio fucked up, either. Scipio had fucked up because he knew less than shit about the Woads, that was what had happened. He had taken entirely the wrong approach with them, and then Barbattus's insubordination hadn't helped, but Tristan was at a loss how to verbalize all that. It was all interactions that while the scout might understand in his mind, he had little facility for describing. He had to settle for an utterly exasperated roll of his eyes instead, and a soft growl that neatly encompassed everything about the whole situation- but which was cut off when from the cell, Neeria's voice rose in a panic again, screaming thankfully not his name, but some nonsense about where would she go. Arthur's voice followed, authoritative yet soothing- and once more, Tristan wished that their Commander was not quite so damned noble to the useless enemy prisoners he had lying about.
Sit down? Tristan edged forward, peering around the door, until he too could see the scene being referred to. Neeria was clutching at Arthur, who was tryng to hold her at arm's length- reminding Tristan all too sharply of his own disturbing experiences with the woman. "For fuck's sake..." Tristan's hand, like Lancelot's, went to the hilt of his own sword. "Arthur, she does that to make you feel sorry for her. Did it to me, too." To make that abrupt admission was galling, almost as if he was admitting to having been physically hurt by the helpless prisoner, but Tristan just wanted to ensure that Arthur wouldn't fall for the woman's wiles- the Commander was, unfortunately, a lot more susceptible to weeping women and such like than either his First Knight or his Scout. |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 12:58 PM Post #192 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Oct 21, 2008 2:05 am Neeve Neeve was very aware of Lancelot and Tristan talking in low voices two or three steps away from her, but the healer’s attention and her piercing blue gaze was directed into the stinky cell…at Arthur and especially at Neeria. Of course the Commander was his gentle polite self…even with the person that had managed to get THAT close to ending his life. Neeve pressed her lips into a thin line and bowed her head slightly as if staring at the dirty ground…but she never parted her gaze from the two persons in the cell… She wasn’t sure if she should admire the Commander for his patience with the Woad or if she should ask him what on earth made him keep the person that had tried to kill him alive…
Neeria’s suddenly shrieking voice almost made Neeve jump. The Briton’s head whipped up and she immediately found herself on the verge of rushing forward to deal with the Woad once and for all when Neeria suddenly clung to Arthur’s chest. Crying. Again. Blue eyes narrowed dangerously and glared daggers at the Woad even when it became clear that Arthur could deal with the small woman as he peeled her off his breast-plate again to hold her at an arm’s length. Her mind already began to rush through all the ways she knew of using herbs to get rid of someone to make her…promise…to Neeria come true, when Lancelot and Tristan showed up by her side, both men with their hands on their weapons…ready to strike…
“And to me…”, the raven-haired woman added with the earlier chill back in her voice. Unconsciously, the healer’s free hand had even come to rest on her belt where her small knife was sheathed. The only 'weapon' she always had on her…though it was more of a tool to her when cutting of fresh herbs was in order. She knew of course, that there would be no need to use it against Neeria with Tristan and Lancelot on high alert should the Woad try to harm their Commander yet again…but still… “Who knows what other malicious ideas Merlin has put into this one’s mind…in case she fails with the original plan…”, Neeve added, still annoyed about Neeria having dared to call her 'sister'… She was nothing like the Woads. Nothing. |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 12:59 PM Post #193 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Oct 21, 2008 8:52 am Vanora After Linnette and Saoisre had gone, Vanora busied herself with wiping down the counter and trying to forget all of the stupid ideas she had given to Linnette. No one that she knew of at the fort was able to draw. Sure they could build, carve, weave, work with metals and such, but she had never truly heard of anyone with the talent to do art. Vanora liked to try her hands at weaving and sewing much like her mother, but she had always had that knack for cooking and such. Her mother had thought it strange the her daughter was not that good at weaving, sewing and such, but never really came out and said much about it. A wench came to the counter and requested four ales which Vanora turned, drew and handed the filled mugs to the girl who went off to deliver the order. Vanora had not really paid attention to who had entered the tavern, but when she heard familiar voices approaching the counter, she had to look up. Her spirits lifted as she saw that Linnette had come back with the young woman, Mari, and she noticed that Mari was carrying a small stack of paper. They were talking between each other, and to Vanora's pleasant surprise, Linnette seemed to be in better spirits than when she had left. Vanora watched as Linnette said a little more to the other woman as she lead Mari past the counter toward the kitchen with news that Vanora could not help but offer a puzzled smile at....
"You did?...er...I mean you did?" The first question had come out as one of puzzlement, but the second one came out as a form of happiness. and a sharing of Linnette's excitement. But before she could give a reply, the two were gone up to Linnette's office. What in blazes had she heard? Did the young lady, Mari, draw? This was interesting indeed, and one to keep for future reference in case someone needed a drawing done. Vanora knew of some who'd pay well for a good piece of art, and it'd help the woman out financially. Not wanting to bother the two, and so they could get about to their business without her looking over their shoulders, Vanora decided to stay behind the counter and wait on her customers. Funny that she had not seen Bors yet this morning. Usually, he was the first in the establishment not wanting to miss out on his portion of the food. Was he feeling okay? And where were the rest of the knights? Moving from behind the counter, Vanora walked through the tavern to the window and looked across the courtyard to the tavern where there seemed to be a bit of a grouping. She frowned. The knights had just gotten back, and they were leaving again? Not that it was unusual, but some had come back with serious wounds that she knew had not healed. She stood and watched the proceedings with some interest... |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 01:01 PM Post #194 |
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Author: Darya Date: Tue Oct 21, 2008 8:55 am Darya It seemed Jols had heard that his name had been mentioned for the squire approached the two women with an expression in his eyes that let Darya arch an eyebrow even before the older man spoke. She just knew he was up to something…
“I dare you…”, the Sarmatian replied with a laughter and smirked at Jols but abruptly became more serious again when the hawk on her arm again flapped with its good wing and flexed its claws briefly. Darya’s gaze immediately was back at the bird and she watched it closely…making sure the animal was alright… Then Tatiana spoke again and Darya glanced at the girl from the corner of her eyes for now…since she didn’t want to let the hawk out of sight already…
The Sarmatian found herself wondering if Tatiana perhaps had already met her two horses, Kahlan and Círdan, but that thought soon gave way to a slight but honest amusement about the girl’s excitement when she spoke of her work. “Well, it seems you have already become quite acquainted to the Fortress…”, Darya then said and tilted her head slightly, “…though I take it that your mother is not too happy about that? How come?” |
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| golden_trillium | May 11 2010, 01:02 PM Post #195 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Tue Oct 21, 2008 12:25 pm Dagonet Dagonet watched her still with a frown upon his brow. He didn't feel like stinking! Was he offended by her words? Maybe a little. How could he smell like roses when he was just laying in here, not allowed to get up and clean himself properly? She reached to his cheek and breathed out a small laugh. Then Dagonet stirred a little as she kissed his cheek and breathed in his scent, then shruging away with a smile. Tall knight just observed her, but a frown faded away from his face, a small smile appeared.
He looked at the pointed area and frowned once more came to his face. There was still blood stain upon his tunic and breeches... Horse and blood? Gods.. she was probably right. He just cleared his throat and grunted geting hold on the bundle of food from her. He looked away a little embarrassed by not noticing it earlier. He felt her eyes upon him, watching carefully... but Dagonet was looking at the food plainly. Took some of the bread and took the bite of it thoughtlessly... Chewed it slowly not thinking about anything in fact... when finally Saoirse's voice cut the silence.
The chewing stopped... Tall knight turned his head to look upon his lover as she asked him the question. It came with such surprise! Dagonet wouldn't even imagine Saoirse asking him something like that.. but she did and he found himself speechless for a moment. Would she be a good healer... herbalist? A smile spread over his face... a very encouraging smile. He saw a blush upon her face and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently... "I think you would make an excelent healer, love. If you really want it." he said sincerely. And he frowned a little with a smile. "You've read something already?" He was in fact curious why she wanted to do something like that... but he felt it was not the moment to ask questions only to encourage her if she really wanted this. He was suprised by this, but in a very pleasent way in fact. |
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