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| October 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 1 2010, 05:17 PM (3,215 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 5 2010, 06:21 PM Post #91 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 6:17 am Bors At the sharp knock on the door Bors jerked awake, having fallen asleep once more sprawling across the bed. He sat up, cleared his throat, and rubbed a rough hand over his face, blinking to clear his vision. Stumbling to the door he flung it open to see a young boy on the other side. Bors scowled a little, cocking his head to one side as he tried to recognise whether the lad was one of his... he didn't think so, but then, he couldn never be quite sure, there were so many of the little bastards about these days. "What?" he demanded grumpily, and the boy grinned cheekily. "One of them Romans wants ya," he stated beligerently. "'E said..." The boy paused while he thought about the wording, his dark eyes sliding to one side before lighting up and looking back at the old man before him. "'E said, 'arks Bors if 'e wants a nice easy day out while 'is leg's bad'." The lad beamed at having remembered the wording exactly, and Bors groaned. However the order had been worded, he knew it was an order nonetheless. Still, he did want to get out of the fort. Already he was growing restless, and this sounded like something he wanted to be a part of, whatever it was. "Alright, fanks," he said distractedly, closing the door in the boy's face and turning back to the room. Collecting his armour and sword, he left the room and made his way to the stables, blowing the cobwebs from his head as he went. Several people were gathering near the stables, and as Bors joined them he noticed Darya moving away. He smiled at the girl, who seemed... not very happy, and stopped as he spotted Tristan approaching. "Tristan," he nodded briefly. "Wha's goin' on?" Bors could feel the tension in the air, and it made him shiver. Maybe not such an easy day out after all... |
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| golden_trillium | May 5 2010, 06:21 PM Post #92 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 6:19 am Ash Ash could feel the discontent emanating from Eala's small form like a vibration to an eardrum. Whilst he understood she had uncertainties within her right, he did not know how to convey the honest truth onto her to quell said uncertainties. She was still a child who saw the world through a child's eyes. He could try to explain to Eala exactly what had happened with Mona and why, but he feared his attempts would most likely be in vain. Eala was an intelligent and perceptive girl, but it seemed unlikely she would be able to wrap her head around an adult's logic. And, given her initial reaction to seeing Merlin slay the traitor, Ash wasn't entirely sure he wanted to illuminate the girl any further. They were to leave shortly - it did not seem wise to inadvertently send Eala back into a tizzy now, especially not when she was beginning to console herself back to normalcy. "It...was just..." was all he could offer her at the moment, touching a re-assuring hand to her shoulder. Ash hoped that she trusted him enough to make that assertion, and would find his judgment suffice. He looked down at Eala when she plopped between his knees on the ground and sniffed, waiting to see if she could recover enough on her own for them to move on soon. She peered up at him intently then, inquisitively, and emphatically gestured between them. It took a moment or two for the older Woad to process what she meant, but then the realization slowly donned upon him - at least, he thought he knew what she was trying to ask. He had told her they would be home soon, which was true, but was she asking him what he thought she was? "That's not what I meant..." Ash blurted out without thinking - and afterward hoped he had spoken too quickly for her to have registered his words - raising a finger to rub along his stubbly upper lip in thought as he glanced over her head. Maybe he had brought this on himself, even unintentionally so, but share his home with her, a little girl? She wasn't his daughter or sister - hell, she wasn't even his kin. He sighed. Ash had this daunting feeling that the arrangement was going to be, well, inevitable. Shrewd dark eyes looked down at her again and he tsked lightly. Why couldn't he just flat out say no? "I...will think...about it..." he told her simply. Loser. With another deep sigh, Ash briefly glanced over his shoulder when he heard Merlin's command to move on. He pressed his palms to his stiff thighs and stood with a groan. Holding out his hand to Eala, he said, "Let's go, okay?" |
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| golden_trillium | May 5 2010, 06:24 PM Post #93 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 7:36 am Tristan and Quintus
"Good. Good, sir." Quintus replied easily to Brendyn and Titrus's reassurances, as his eyes skimmed over the saddle and tack on the horse he was apparently to ride. All looked well, indeed- but Jols, as squire to the knights, was an expert in this stuff. And by his presence, and that of Tristan, hovering gloweringly over there by Darya, it looked like the knights, or some of them, were coming along on this little venture after all. Well, good. They were better in a scrap than Karl ever was. And speaking of Karl...Quintus returned his gaze to the grumpy soldier who had not yet answered his question, even as he spoke.
"Attention, soldier! Inspection of your kit, right now," Quintus barked, turning suddenly from his own horse and going to Karl's, where he jerked open the flap of his nearest saddlebag and looked inside, then tested girth strap on the horse for tightness. "We'll go when the Commander is ready and not a second before, soldier," Quintus added as he tested and inspected. "And you'll keep a civil tongue in your head." A short distance away, Quintus saw Tristan turning loftily away, disdaining to even reply to comments about apples- though it was likely that he had at least one stowed on him somewhere, Quintus reflected. The Sarmatian scout, in seeming contrast to his hard, taciturn, unfriendly ways, had an almost unreasonable love of fruit.
"Darya..." Tristan began, walking with her a few steps away from that bastard of a Roman fuck and the rest of his companions, the hawk once more squawking on his shoulder. He brought the bird in front of him when the paused, stroking her head feathers with his free hand and watching Darya carefully for a fraction, hoping to see her reaction towards the bird. Most people were at least a bit unnerved by her- but still, all Darya would have to do was bring her meat once a day or so until her wing healed. That was, if Tristan didn't come back. "What did you mean, you can handle him?" The question burst out of Tristan's lips, a reference to what he had heard Darya saying to Barbattus before, and quite surprising even to the scout himself, who had thougth he wanted to address the matter of the hawk first. "Handle who? Someone bothering you?" But before Darya could answer, Bors's stumpy figure approached, the presence of his own armor and weapons announcing that he must be part of this, too.
Tristan turned to his fellow knight and shrugged, keeping his free hand on the hawk to balance her. "We're goin' out...with Arthur. Probably to Merlin." Tristan let his frown speak for him of the disapproval he felt about that. Arthur, he was guessing, was really not well enough to be doing any such thing- and yet he was. |
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| golden_trillium | May 5 2010, 06:26 PM Post #94 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 10:57 am Malcus Barbattus, Titrus and Karl
"Excellent," Malcus said with a slight tilt of his head. He would kill Karl where he stood if he ever came closing to harming a hair on Arthur's lover's head. Of that, he swore.
"Certainly," Malcus and Titrus said in unison, both men bending forward slightly. Obviously Darya wanted to talk with Tristan before they rode off. Both officers moved over to where Quintus was standing as he dressed down Karl.
Karl whirled around to reply to the centurion but saw Malcus and Titrus approaching and thought better of it. "Ay, sir," he said grumpily. "Everything is as it should be," he offered. But it didn't stop Quintus from checking everything for himself. Karl's face became a mask of storm, feeling humiliated that he was being checked. But with Malcus standing there, he didn't dare say a word, else he'd be punished and not allowed to ride. That won't do as Karl was thrilled to be getting from behind the dregs of the Wall. "Well done," Malcus assured Quintus, "very well done." "When you are finished Quintus, I'd like one final word with you and Titrus." Barbattus said as he walked away with Titrus in tow. Neeria Neeria moaned in pain from the gaping hole in her side. She was weak from hunger and her throat was parched. Her voice was raw and scratchy.
Neeria's eyes widened at Neeve's revelation. "Neeve?" the woad said, trying out the new word for the first time. "Neeve," she said again, getting used to it. "A native Britton?" she added, reflectively, thankful Neeve was not Roman. She watched the dark-haired woman as she chewed on her bottom lip and dug around looking for what she needed to treat the wound. Neeria shrunk away from the healer as Neeve touched the inflamed and irritated skin, checking the raging infection. The small woman moaned and clenched her teeth and fists.
"Okay," Neeria said, not knowing what any of that meant. But the woad could clearly see that the healer meant to help, not hurt, her. "Why are you here at the fortress?" Neeria ventured to ask. "Why are you here with the Romans?" Before Neeve could answer, she'd applied pressure to Neeria's wound, causing pain to sear through Neeria's body. The agony was so ferocious, Neeria reeled back, fighting for consciousness. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:26 PM Post #95 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 11:29 am Brendyn Brendyn continued to stand next to Tyranus while things bustled about him. Jols had done such a great job of packing things that all he had to do was place a small, but well stocked medic kit of bandages and herbs in case of small injuries, or for Arthur if the Commander required them. He and Tyranus were just outside the barn doors, and he was able to see what was going on inside as well as outside. A slight blush passed over his cheeks as the Captain used his charms on the lovely Saramtian. Brendyn sighed inwardly, and thought of the last day he had seen Veronica, Antonius's wife. He recalled the last night they had spent together making love while Anotnius had been out on a mission of sorts. Brendyn never really saw the man give his wife the attention she truely deserved. Gods, she had been a lovely creature!
I will not only beat him, but I will kill him! Brendyn thought to himself while he remained silent. He was taught to respect everyone, men and women alike, if they deserved respect, so to him disresepct was...well there was no place for it. He glanced slightly at Darya Not even Sarmatian's deserve disrespect... It was good then that Malcus was going to be here at the fort, to protect such as her and others that lived within the fort. Brendyn slid a hand up under Tyranus's bridle and gave the animal a good pat. The horse was being well behaved, and except for 'the token of affection' that the horse had left Karl on the ground, the arab mix seemed to get along with everyone. Brendyn whispered something to the black in his native language as the horse insisted on getting the Captain's attention. Malcus turned to stroke the soft muzzle while the horse nickered a greeting of sorts....
Brendyn smiled as Malcus offered a treat to Tyranus and gave the horse's neck a gentle stroke, "Good morning to you, sir.'' The soldier watched the horse's ears perk forward, and seemed to study the Captain with gentle brown eyes. "I trained Tyranus myself." Brendyn left the conversation at that. If the Captain wanted to know more then he'd be more than willing to tell him. Brendyn heard Titrus acknowledge that he was ready as well....
Brendyn had never seen such organization before a mission and it was all due to the fact that they had a capable squire...though he could not say the same for the stable master, who should have been the one here to get the horses ready. Maybe the man had a good reason for not being here, or perhaps with a wench elsewhere. Brendyn knew he could mount his horse now, but Antonius had always wanted his men to wait until he had mounted first, then the rest of the men could mount. Tyranus pawed at the ground eager for this adventure to start. 'Easy, my friend....easy.....we must be patient....' Brendyn whispered. The horse's ears turned to the sides as he spoke. Brendyn suddenly caught the voice of Karl, and the smile vanished from his face. Something was odd here, and while he had been checking the tack and bridle as well as his weapons and such, he had time to think this out: It did not look as though Malcus was going, though this Karl fellow was. Technically, the Captain should have gone. Arthur was going at the risk of his life as his wounds had been severe. He could not put his finger on it all, but something about all of this made him think that it was more than just a mission....
Brendyn winced slightly as he saw Quintus walk over to where Karl stood and lifted up the flap of his saddle bag. Was this Karl just acting insubordinate because he liked punishment and pain? Or did he act that way to hide something else. So far, Brendyn had not seen anyone who liked the man, and Karl had not shown them any kindness. What was it in this man's heart that made him dispise other so, and did not care what they thought of him? Brendyn could not fathom living such a life. He would be really surprised if this man did not have lash marks all over his body for acting in such a manner. Just then Bors voice broke through Brendyn's thoughts and he turned his attention to the husky knight...
Brendyn gave the Sarmatian a slight respectful bow as she walked off a bit with Tristan following in tow for a few steps, followed by Bors. What a sweet tempered lady! She seemed to take things well considering that Karl had done everything in his power to insult her and her kind. Commendable! The soldier wondered if all of the women were as sweet as she at the fort. He moved from is position at Tyranus's side and rechecked all of the straps and such, and as he did so, yawned and stretched a bit. Sleep sounded so good right now, but he'd have to forgo that as well as breaking his fast. Well, there had been the apple in the squad room...that'd hold him over. He had not really slep that much since arriving here, and had already done prisoner transport to the infirmary, Latrine duty, and had gone in search of the escaped woads...and had even found their escape route, then he had been placed on night watch. The under part of his arm still hurt from the healing wound that the nun had so wonderfully stitched and treated. No he had not slept, and perhaps upon returning he'd get some time to unwind. Duty first though. That came before sleep and food. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:28 PM Post #96 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 12:37 pm Darya As expected, Tristan indeed followed her…and just when Darya turned to face the scout with a questioning glance, her let his hawk settle on his arm…right in front of her. Only now did the woman notice, that the animal was injured. “What has happened to her wing?”, she asked before another thought could cross her mind…but instead of an answer she was confronted with some questions herself…
The dark-haired blinked and furrowed her brow slightly when she shifted her gaze from the hawk to Tristan… Why was everyone so protective all for sudden? The woman briefly bit the inside of her cheeks when her mind suddenly came up with weird ideas. Did they know? Did they somehow know of her…new condition? Was it that obvious? A short fit of panic hit her and Darya shot a glance down her own body… No, that couldn’t be…nothing to see… She cleared her throat and lifted her dark gaze once more to meet Tristan’s… “Ah well, you know that some of the soldiers don’t exactly like our kind…”, the female Sarmatian explained and a corner of her mouth twitched slightly, “…and a few of them think it necessary to voice that whenever possible. Karl is one of them and he just had his grand entrance in insulting us…me…” Darya paused and shrugged her shoulders. “Again…I can handle him…okay?” With that, the woman tried a wry smile…when…
With Arthur. Gods, she hated this thought. Arthur was in no condition for such a mission… Damn his sense of duty. Darya clenched her teeth to maintain her neutral expression. Getting even more upset about this would make no sense…and wouldn’t help anyone… “Hey, Bors…”, the dark-haired addressed the burly knight instead, “…how’s your leg?” |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:29 PM Post #97 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 12:40 pm Bors Bors didn't take any notice of the interaction between Tristan and Darya - it was none of his business and he wasn't interested. As they spoke he scratched his chin and gazed off into the distance, content that the scout would answer him when he was ready.
"Mph," Bors grunted, glancing at Darya and then at Tristan. It was answer enough, if short on detail, and Bors nodded thoughtfully. He didn't think overly much about why they were going.
Bors glanced down at the offending limb and grinned ruefully at the dark-haired Sarmatian. "Ah y'know... 's'awright," he shrugged, then realised it actually was, and frowned, flexing his knee. "Yeah... it's awright." With that he clumped off towards his horse's stall. The big dark brown gelding turned his back on his master and walked to the corner of the stall, as he always did, and Bors grinned. "Gerron wiv ya," he chided it affectionately, giving the animal a light slap on the rump. "You bloody miserable bastard, yer worse'n yer dad." He lifted the saddle from its peg, neatly side-stepped a snaking head with its mouthful of teeth bared, and placed the heavy Sarmatian tack on the horse's broad back, all the while speaking in an undertone to the beast. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:31 PM Post #98 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 12:42 pm Arthur Arthur continued to dress in his chainmail, cuirass and vambraces - full ala commander regalia – hopeful to at least instill confidence in those accompanying him today by his formal appearance. He had chosen to wear the cuirass with a pair of golden dragons tooled into the breastplate. They represented Arthur’s British heritage which was something Merlin could not deny and may work in the Commander’s favor in the negotiations. A Briton with a Roman father. And just what parentage did Arthur hope to give his own child? What legacy? The Roman’s movements were still a bit stiff as he worked at the last of the clasps, but Arthur had regained some of his strength after a much needed night’s rest and greatly in part to Neeve’s ministrations. The ache in his wounded side was now but a dull twinge compared to the searing pain of only a day ago. Lancelot had also placed a fine and firm cloth treatment over Arthur’s stitches which should hold up soundly as Arthur rode today. The Commander had suffered worse injuries while still fulfilling his duties, and thus had every confidence in his own abilities to conceal his current weakened state and carry on.
Two days was certainly a reasonable duration of time and thus Arthur gave no counter order. However, he did not miss the sentiment behind Lancelot’s words. And that hatred for Merlin was the principle point in why Arthur was not allowing Lancelot to accompany him today. Lancelot’s thirst for revenge made him dangerous and unpredictable….and could very well cost Arthur any success of a truce with Merlin should the knight be at his side during such talks. And I could never forgive myself were I to make it easy for Merlin to snatch Lancelot from me again. Only one item had yet to be added to complete Arthur’s task in preparing his person….he reached for the finely tooled leather scabbard and wrapped the belt around his waist. Excalibur’s weight seemed to tug uncharacteristically heavy at Arthur’s left side….yet the great sword’s metal seemed to feed Arthur’s determination and will. He drew strength from his father’s weapon and felt a certain level of calmness wash over his mind.
Commander. Lancelot’s use of Arthur’s ‘official’ rank when addressing him was a clear indication the other man’s emotional armour was back into place even before Arthur turned to look at Lancelot. And that was probably best even though for a moment…it stung. Lancelot’s impenetrable shield had somehow fallen away in the moments before Arthur had begun to dress in his protective leather and armour – a rare moment to be treasured. Had there been no pressing matter to attend…had Arthur only the time for Lancelot this morning….what revelations might they have discovered then? Could the two have finally reconciled all that stood between them? Is that what they both had wanted? Perhaps it was a fool’s hope, but Arthur still held out hope for when he would return they could reconcile their friendship completely. “On that matter you have my gratitude, lieutenant,” Arthur answered while turning to fully face Lancelot. His thick fingers grasped at the bottom edge of his cuirass to give a final test of its position; the piece was snug and securely in its place. Lancelot’s injured eye was now open, albeit red and angry; to meet Arthur’s gaze solidly. “Malcus returned with a captive….shall we see what we might discover from her in regards to Merlin’s location?” Arthur said evenly while requesting that Lancelot attend him yet this morning. He crossed to the table and reached for a plump apple from the tray in its center. “And while we walk….you will enlighten me with the details on how you received such an injury last night, hm?” Arthur added with a slight tilt of his head before taking a rather generous bite out of the fruit. As he chewed, he lifted his left hand to wipe at a trickle of juice that had immediately begun to run down over his stubbled chin. “Come,” Arthur bade Lancelot with a small and yet genuine smile before taking another bite of the tart apple and stepping towards the door. It was a tiny gesture in recognition of the way he still cared for Lancelot – that glimmer in his green, green eyes and the curl in the corner his mouth…..I need you, my friend. Forgive me as I cannot seem to say it aloud…but I do. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:32 PM Post #99 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 12:48 pm Jols After seeing that Darya was ok, the squire relaxed his stance yet still kept his guard up until he heard the Captain speak to her and then relaxed his guard completly, knowing that she'd be in safe hands with Malcus around.
"I wouldn't know, sir, nor would I want to take a guess on that one either. Yes, Captain. Enjoy your ride, sir." Jols replied polietly. Feeling the hearty slap from Malcus and hearing the compliment from Titrus, the squire felt a pleasureable and comfortable warmth slide through him at the contact knowing that he was a friend to them and suddenly found himself wishing that he'd known them or people similar to both the Captain and Titrus back when he was younger. His own horse, Gypsi, was also saddled, stocked up and ready to go when the Commander and his little party arrived. Seeing Tristan and Bors arrive, Jols watched the hawk on the Scout's shoulder with her wing still carefully wrapped up. Looks like we're almost ready to go, we just need Arthur to arrive, now |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:33 PM Post #100 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 12:55 pm Quintus
"Aye, sir." With a final experimental tug to Karl's saddle pommel, and a dispassionate glance over him to ascertain what weapons he was carrying, Quintus let the matter rest with another stern glare. Karl's equipment was perfectly in order and he had expected no less. Slovenliness with his weapons and armor, at least, was not one of Karl's faults. It was his attitude that would have to be tightly reined in- and which seemed to be for the time being. "Looks good," Quintus growled at Karl, before leaving him and following Captain Barbattus and Lieutenant Titrus a short distance away. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:33 PM Post #101 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 1:11 pm Tatiana After changing out of her sleep outfit and into her work tunic and trews plus boots, Tatiana grabbed a quick bite of the meal then after remembering where the cold storage was, she carefully placed all of the remaining food and the untouched skin inside before closing it up. Running a quick brush through her long auburn hair then braiding it to keep it out of her face as she went about her tasks at the stables. Going over to her bed, she reached inbetween the top and bottom mattress to where her knife was and slipped it into the hidden sheath in one of her thigh high boots for protection. Opening the door, she stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind herself. Heading over and down to the stables, she saw the little party gathered both out in the courtyard as well as inside of the stables proper. "Greetings Jols, Brendyn, everyone." Tatiana cheerily called out to them using the names of those that she knew already but so as not to make anyone else feel left out of her greeting, she pulled out a word that would encompass the rest of the little group standing there with a polite nod to them before disappearing inside the interior of the stables to start her shift. When she saw the Roman soldier standing a little ways off from the main group, she felt a slight shiver of alarm go down her spine and was very glad that she'd worn her knife as she didn't like the looks of him one bit. After entering, but before really starting she allowed herself to go over the meeting she'd had with Adian then entertained thoughts of dinner at the tavern with him then got down to her work, paying attention to what she was doing. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:34 PM Post #102 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 1:18 pm Neeve Neeve continued her concentrated work on the Woad’s nasty injury. Well, the Roman soldier had landed a good hit…even though he had to pay for it with his life. And Neeria was still in danger to follow him… Neeve would give no guarantee for the prisoner making it through the next days…
“Yes, as native a Briton as one can be…”, the healer replied and tilted her head a little as she began to prepare the mixture of water, Beggar’s Button and Ramsons which she wanted to apply to the Woad’s wound. If they were lucky, it would alleviate the infection and clean the wound and the blood even more than she could do from the outside. Once the ropy mass was ready, Neeve dipped two fingers into it and carefully applied it to the sore skin about Neeria’s wound… “This might hurt…”, she said quietly but did her best to not cause the other woman more pain than she certainly was experiencing already…
“I…”, the raven-haired began…but then the Woad groaned heartbreakingly and toppled backwards…eyes wide open. Oh no, not so fast…, Neeve thought grimly and leaned over the other woman. “Hey…hey…”, she muttered and slightly slapped Neeria in the face, “…stay with me, Woad. Don’t you dare to die on me now…” No, Neeve would not despair of this woman’s death…but it was never pleasant when a patient died right under one’s hands. While she continued to keep the Woad conscious, Neeve also continued to apply her salve to the injury. At least Neeria couldn’t wiggle and squirm now… The healer worked quickly and the bowl was soon empty. That will have to do…, she thought and used the old cloth to roughly clean the bowl before filling it with water from the bucket. The Briton then lifted the Woad’s head a little and brought the rim of the bowl to the prisoner’s lips. “Come on…drink something…”, she demanded and let some of the cool fluid trickle onto Neeria’s mouth… |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:35 PM Post #103 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 1:29 pm Tristan
"Hmmp." Tristan grunted a pleased grunt at that, glad that Bors seemed to be on the mend. He'd be a good one to have on this mission- the kind of man one needed as backup in a scrap. As Bors moved off into the stables to collect his horse, though, Tristan turned back to Darya. "Anyone gives you trouble, you let me know." His words were uncomfortable, punctuated by a sidelong glance at Karl, who was still standing by his horse, apparently having been somewhat quelled by his Centurion. Tristan would keep an eye on that one- but if he was going along on the mission, he at least couldn't bother Darya while Tristan was gone. The scout shifted again and renturned his attention to the hawk with another stroke of her head feathers. "Was wondering...could you feed her, maybe? While I'm gone? Just once a day." He eyed Darya from beneath a couple of braided locks of hair, watching carefully for any sign of reaction- either to the prospect of taking on the hawk, or to his own tacit implication that he was preparing for the eventuality of his death. It stuck in his throat that he even had to do this- he didn't want to have to ask anyone to take care of his affairs when he was gone. He didn't want to have any affairs to be taken care of! But the hawk was wounded and couldn't hunt- there was no way he could just leave her to fend for herself. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:36 PM Post #104 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 2:56 pm Malcus Barbattus and Titrus Quintus followed Malcus and Titrus over a short distance away from the others, making sure no one, especially Karl, could overhear their conversation. "Look men, make me proud on this mission and I'll reconsider my previous order of punishment. Quintus," the captain said looking at his Centurion, "Titrus is aware of some of the things that I'm about to say and that I'm now making privy to you. I am sure that this conversation will remain confidential," Malcus looked Quintus right in the eyes making his message clear. "I don't trust Scipio. On the last mission, he killed innocent woads. I know no woad is completely innocent, but those bastards weren't armed nor were they expecting us. They were completely unaware. Scipio slaughtered them for no reason. He made Tristan do it. That's not Arthur's way. There is something about the optio that disturbs me," Malcus said, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes looking into the distance as he spoke. "I can't put my finger on it. But like I said before, you are to protect Arthur with your lives. If, God in heaven forbid, something happens to the Commander you are to abandon your positions immediately and head back to the fortress for me to mobilize troops and the other knights." "You are to obey any orders given to you according to Roman law, but Arthur, as you know, has final say. Keep your eyes and ears open. I have chosen the both of you because of trust. Is that clear?" Malcus looked at both Titrus and Quintus. "You have your orders and may God be with you. I will celebrate with you when you return." Then Malcus took a step back and struck his chest. |
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| golden_trillium | May 6 2010, 05:37 PM Post #105 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sun Oct 12, 2008 3:23 pm Mari It was hardly an art form to look at something and scrawl it down on a page. Mari had been criticised by her father for her inability to draw what wasn't there. She could draw a crow from beak to tail-feather if it sat long enough for her to do so - but she could not sit down in an empty room and draw a crow. It was strange in that sense. But it was a release too. The girl did not feel restrained or cooped up by Milan - but there was a tension between them, an uncertainty of their own bodies and reactions that made this alone time right now quite pleasant. Of course after a little while she was going to start missing him terribly and as she sat peering thruogh the drizzly rain at teh surly looking black bird, Mari found herself looking forward to giving him a big hug once she did get home. To her home with a roof hopefully. It was quite easy for Mari to drift off into her own little world under the eaves of the stables. She cast a curious look to the people who were gathering there but skooched down away from them, focussing all of her innocent brown eyed attention on the bird, tilting her head to the side to get a better angle at the thing. She was entirely unaware of the woman who had just recognised her, and then recognised what it was that she was doing.
Mari's head snapped up, guilt written plain across her pretty face. She immediately shook her head and clutched the page to her chest, instinct making her deny this treasured past-time of hers. "No!" she squeeked, used to this kind of question from Kolya, and used to lying abotu what it was she was doing. He never thought it was a good way for a girl to spend her time. Waste her time as he would call it. It served no practical purpose whatsoever beyond wasting paper and time. When the young woman realised that it wasn't Kolya addressing her she had the decency to blush at how quickly she had lied. She shifted uneasily and looked at the woman pleadingly, wondering why there was such a ferverent light to the woman's hazel eyes as she tried to get a look at Mari's picture. "No - what I mean was well... I was trying... not really though you see. I'm not very... well, trained or ... I don't even know if I'm doing it right..." she babbled, awkwardly looking down at the page she had crushed against her chest. Another small pile of scraps of paper sat beside her, of different sizes with various scribbles on them. Some were simply copies of the text on the other side of the paper that she had found, others were rough sketches of various bits and pieces to be seen in the vicinity.. the weathervane on top of the tavern building, the hinge of teh stable doors, the wheel of a cart - nothing substantial, but all in all they were rather accurate drawings. Nothing creative though... Mari cleared her throat and shyly lifted her brown eyes to the older woman, demure, polite but infinitely shy - her cheeks were red with embarrassment and her muscles tense, ready for a rebuke as she asked hesitantly... "Wh-why?" |
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