| Welcome to Na The Past. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| November 2008 | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,048 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 23 2010, 03:39 PM Post #151 |
![]()
|
Author: LadyCastus Date: Sun Nov 16, 2008 8:52 pm Neeria
Neeria narrowed her dark eyes and took in Neeve's sarcastic stare at her. "I do not want to be your guest of honor nor your friend," the small woman said, "I am a human that shares the same blood as you, lady, even though you choose not to admit that it's true. And I haven't forgotten these last days either," she added snidely, "as my husband's body get cold in the jaws of the beasts of the wood." Neeria stood her ground against the tall dark haired Briton and stared at her. It was Vanora's voice that broke the stand off.
Neeria looked away from the healer and back to the red-head. "Thank you again, Vanora, for your kindness." The woad supposed that the women were not plotting to kill her and without further word, followed Vanora outside. The cold was still biting. Neeria looked up to the sky and saw thick, fluffy, clouds moving quickly overhead. Perhaps it would snow again, it sure felt like it. Neeria pulled the large tunic up to her ears as she shuffled along behind Vanora, dragging her feet in the big heavy boots. Vanora led the way and Neeve followed, leaving Neeria between the two women. As they walked, the woad looked at her surroundings. She'd never been behind the Wall before. Neeria wondered where the Roman was that she looked for. There were few people out, some children laughing and playing a game in front of a vendor's tent. A skinny dog scampered past them, sniffing on the ground. Neeria heard 2 men arguing somewhere - all of the sounds of an active community. The structure and...civility...of it all was foreign to her. The woad continued to absorb everything around her while she followed. Malcus Barbattus After Malcus had removed Catherine's cloak, he clicked his heels like the perfect gentleman and properly welcomed Catherine to his quarters. In response, the blond beauty stuck a cold hand in the front of Barbattus' trousers and pulled out his tunic. The coolness of her touch felt wonderful against the heat of his wanting skin. The captain stifled a groan as his desire mounted rapidly. But control was part of the game and Malcus was a master of control. No, oh no, he wouldn't hurry with this one. This woman, he would tame and control. Make her understand that he was paying for her time as well as her pleasure. He could fuck any whore and yes, Catherine was a whore. But she was beautiful, and soft and...well, he didn't know exactly. He just would not treat her as such. Even a paid act did not need to be lewd. That was not Malcus' way. Not his way at all.
Catherine eyes held innocence when she asked the question, but her body was anything but as she began to grind her hips into Malcus' hard groin. The captain gyrated his hips in time with her, able to feel all of her at the top of her vee. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Malcus growled back, his dark eyes becoming lost in the lust he felt. He grabbed Catherine's backside and pulled her closer to him, leaning back slightly so that she could feel all of him as he ground his hips into her. His erection struggled to be free to find its home in the warmth of her body. The captain lowered his head and kissed the soft mound of her breast and moved one hand up to cup the other. "But that is, of course, if I can undress you as well," he added slyly. Then he kissed the woman and pulled at the strings of her bodice to free the objects of his desire. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 23 2010, 03:40 PM Post #152 |
![]()
|
Author: Starbelle Date: Sun Nov 16, 2008 9:34 pm Tatiana
Feeling him pick up her hand and place a kiss to the back of it, made her blush become deeper and warmer as he did so. Shivering, as if with chills at his contact, since Tatiana had never been treated like a Princess by a true knight of Lancelot's caliber before and it was truely a unique sensation for her to be treated as such. "No. You're not. You're far more unique and special than just 'Arthur's man' as you put it. There's something there, something elemental that can be felt by others, yet not seen." Tatiana replied, making eye contact with his dark eyes with her dark green ones.
"I won't, Sir Knight. Don't apologize for your realness, I've just never met anyone like you before, Lancelot ap Ban." Tatiana said glancing at him, mesmerized and hypnotised by his glance once more. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:43 PM Post #153 |
![]()
|
Author: golden_trillium Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 7:57 am Tristan and Quintus
At that, Tristan had to shrug, eying the surrounding trees nervously. He couldn't tell how many, not yet, except that there had to be enough of them to talk to each other, hence the hint of voices on the breeze. More than one, then- not very helpful. The horses were restless, picking up on the presence of others and on the nervousness of the humans- behind Tristan, Lieutenant Titrus's mount gave an alarmlingly loud snort, though it was quickly silenced, and even Tirgatao shifted restlessly. Tristan patted the side of his neck soothingly, keeping most of his gaze forward, towards the camp, as Arthur turned and spoke again to the whole group.
"Some," Tristan acknowledged shortly, in a whisper. He glanced back and found Arthur looking at him once more, and gave him the small grimace that sometimes appeared on his face when it other men it would be a smile. This one was an ironic, grim smile- and then he clicked his tongue to Tirgatao and sent him forward again, deeper into the deserted campsite, leading the group at a cautious walk. Several horses behind Tristan, Quintus would never have admitted it, but he was terrified. Enclosed now by the woods, with Woads almost certainly very close by, the stories men had told could not help but creep into his mind- stories of torture, of victims so mutilated they were scarcely recognizable, but yet lived, carefully spared so that their continued pain and suffering might further please Merlin's so-called gods. The Dark Magician...that was what they called him, and it was true! It had to be- his men (even those naked women who no longer seemed so funny here in the woods) could appear anywhere, from anywhere, and disappear with equal speed, like wraiths out of the shadows- and they might do so just now. Any minute now, an arrow could end any of their lives- or merely prolong them. Quintus did wish sincerely with part of his mind that he was on foot, and not burdened with controlling this horse on top of everything else, but the other part of him realized that the horses and armor were basically the only advantage they had. If threatened, they could at least flee faster than the Woads could chase them. It was small comfort, but it was something. And he was glad he was at the center of the group, too. In fact, as they went on, his horse edged a little closer to Jols' beast, and the Centurion did nothing to stop it- it was fine with him, that way. Meanwhile, the scout, half-glimpsed up ahead around the Commander's and Optio's flowing cloaks, seemed alert, certainly, but scarcely perturbed. Tristan, though he was well familiar with all the stories that haunted Quintus, though he could even call to mind images of Percival in such a state, and probably would, later, though he tried not to- for now, he was just too busy watching and listening to do anything else. He rounded the trees one by one, fixed every tiny, deserted branch hut with his stare, as if he could see through the walls to determine whether it was occupied, but none of them were. No one was in sight. The Woads were coming closer, though...he could hear them more clearly now, more small noises in the evergreen bushes, behind the trees. Someone was coming directly towards them, he thought, hidden for now by a bend in the path as it wound past a clump of fir trees- someone, or a couple of someones, but not more. There were others, though- circling around them, to either side, the horse among them. Quickly, before they rounded the fir trees and came in sight of the two he thought were approaching, Tristan twisted in his saddle and held up his hands to Arthur in a quick succession of gestures. He held two fingers up, then pointed to the path ahead- two coming right at us. Then ten fingers- an estimate, there- and a circling gesture with both hands. Ten surrounding us. And the horse. Tristan pointed down meaningfully at Tirtgatao's rump, then off in the direction he thought the horse was. He was pretty sure of that, even thought he could make out a glimpse of its coat among the dense trees- it was hard to totally hide a horse. More noises up ahead- the two were coming closer. Tirgatao took the last few steps around the big clump of fir trees, the scout on his back tense in every nerve- and then suddenly, Tristan was looking down into the defiant eyes of the "lieutenant" he knew so well by sight, and next to him, Guinevere, Merlin's bewitching, traitorous daughter. "Peace," Tristan rasped out of his throat- as first in the group, he really ought to say something. Never taking his eyes off the two Woads, but straining his ears for any hint of the positions of their surrounding companions, Tristan raised his hands, showing them open, palms out, to the two Woads, and with his knees guided Tirgatao sideways a few steps, allowing Arthur and Scipio to come up even with him. He gave a quick glance back at Arthur and a nod, indicating to the Woads that the Commander was the one with whom they would speak- but then he returned his eyes to them, ever suspicious, watchful. Guinevere might have stayed in the fort, bedded Lancelot, even, it was rumored, but trust her? No, Tristan did not trust her at all. All Woads were enemies, had that not been amply shown in the past week? And had she not gone back over to them, and did she not now stand there, confronting them, as an enemy did? |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:44 PM Post #154 |
![]()
|
Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 8:42 am Eyla Eyla desired the thrill, she wanted to be caught in the clinches of a passionate embrace. Indeed, she had seen half the fortress with their breeches round their ankles, so why claim modesty and shyness? It was not her style. The whore looked up at Gawain, and she wanted him. He was different to the other knights, more...exotic. Eyla had heard talk of different tribes, different manners of Sarmatian, but she only believed what she could see, what she could touch. Stroking her hands across his face gently, she felt his bristled beard tickle against her fingertips. A seductive smile slipped across her pink lips, and she closed her eyes, sighing softly, murmering gentle words of encouragment. The woman could feel Trickster stood behind her, could feel the heat radiate from the beast’s body...and she could feel Gawain. He was tall, broad, toned, exotic...and a new patron. Why not tease him a little? Why not seek his weakness and exploit it for pleasure?
Oh, he sought to bargain, did he? How very interesting. Eyla arched a sharp eyebrow back at him, and pouted her lips like a petulant child. Eyla made the rules, not the lowly patron she was seducing in the stables. Arthur had sought to bargain with her once, for information, and what had it got him? A naked woman on his bed, and a stubborn will to resist her. He would give in soon, she had no doubt. It was true, Eyla could be cruel, and she could infuriate...but she meant no harm. Not truly. She loved to steal control from the basely masculine men she bedded...and she loved to be dominated equally as much. She was easily pleased, and eager for new experiences, new prey. Gawain was proving to be a delicious way to pass the time... As he threaded his hands into her long hair, Eyla whimpered against his mouth. She kissed him deeply, hard, and flicked her eager tongue across his hot mouth. She could taste him, a potent concoction of various ales. The whore sucked on his tongue sweetly, and heard him moan. By god, the sound delighted her. She stepped closer to the Knight, and touched her hands to his tunic...seeking the underneath. Her soft fingers slipped under the rough material, and glided onto the smooth expanse of his toned stomach. Hot, warm...the whore whimpered, before speaking against his mouth. “My name is not truly important...” She purred, looking at him through her thick eyelashes. “But if you truly seek the identity of your seducer...then you will have to work harder than this. Hmmm?” Eyla tipped her head back, parting her lips in an exaggerated show of arousal. She spread her fingers across Gawain’s hot stomach, and sighed deeply. His skin was dewy, and his heat warmed her palms. She wanted him. She wanted him to lift her up against the stable wall, and be done with the consequences. Lolling her head forwards slowly, she looked at him, Intently, darkly, and with every intent for naughtiness. “How do you like your women, Gawain? On their knees...or on their backs...?” Eyla shut her full lips, and awaited a response. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:45 PM Post #155 |
![]()
|
Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 12:12 pm Gawain
Feeling her slip her fingers up underneath his tunic and touch the bare skin of his stomach, the muscles underneath his skin twitched and fluttered slightly at the contact and he unconsciously started to move and shy away like a horse at her soft touch as if it tickled him, which truthfully, it did. At that soft contact, the beginnings of a slight grin started to tug at his lips and almost, but not quite appear in response to it, he pulled his mouth away from hers quickly, but gently removing the hand that he'd had in her hair placed it over both her small ones where they lay on the skin of his stomach. "Please.. don't..that..that tickles.." Gawain replied to her once he was sure that he'd gotten himself back under control and was sure that he wouldn't laugh in response to her soft touch. "Its..been quite..awhile since I've lain with a woman, lady. But when I was with one, I prefer her on her back." He replied with a quick intake of breath after slightly thinking about her question that she'd asked him. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:48 PM Post #156 |
![]()
|
Author: Darya Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 12:17 pm Darya
Hearing those words, Darya couldn’t suppress a roll of her dark eyes anymore. If he wouldn’t look so dirty and battered, it could be Lancelot at his best. As charming as ever. And Tatiana really seemed to fall for his show. The female Sarmatian shook her head slightly with a smirk still visible on her lips and glanced at the hawk on her arm as if the bird would understand her situation. Yet she had to admit that at least some of Tatiana’s words were true: there was more to the First Knight than most people could or were allowed to see. But she would keep that to herself. No need to encourage Tatiana even more in her obvious admiration for the knight. Besides, Darya knew that this other side of her kinsman was not meant for everyone to know about. And she respected that. However, witnessing Tatiana almost fainting at Lancelot’s mere sight was just plain awkward and something Darya did not really understand. She had often enough seen the way most women of Badon Hill looked at the First Knight…and every now and then honestly wondered why. Maybe it was their shared origin that kept Darya from reacting just like them…maybe it was something else. She didn’t know. And since Arthur had earned such a huge place in her life and heart, she didn’t want to know anymore either. Not really. Now her very own thoughts let the smirk linger on Darya’s lips…until Lancelot addressed her all for sudden…
With that, the smirk vanished from the woman’s face as Lancelot met her gaze and Darya held his while her kinsman spoke. So Arthur had assigned her her very own bodyguard. Very well. Even though a part of her was quite confident that this was not necessary, a small voice in her mind was rather persuasive in telling her that Lancelot being there in case something would happen made her feel strangely…safe. Safer. Whatever… The dark-haired nodded slightly at his words…and a corner of her mouth even twitched briefly at his last comment. “Thank you…”, she then said yet only her dark orbs gave away how serious she was about those two words; despite her earlier mocking of the knight regarding his charming show for Tatiana. Then she lifted her free hand and briefly but gently let her index-finger brush over Lancelot’s cheek, wiping off some dirt as she did so. “And take a bath…”, the dark-haired added half joking, half seriously, “…or I’ll call you to your duty to watch over me and spend the rest of the day in the bath-house…until you look presentable again…” Only then did Darya break their eye-contact and blinked three times before pretending to have to cough to not focus on this weird connection anymore that was lingering between them every time she and Lancelot met for longer than the blink of an eye and that she still could not quite place. It was just there. Somehow. And it could in no way be compared to the effect he had on most other females at this Fort…
Darya tilted her head a little and pursed her lips slightly. No, you are not Arthur…, she just thought even though she was very aware of the true meaning of the knight’s words and unconsciously placed her free hand across her belly for a moment before more or less dismissing Lancelot with another nod before Tatiana’s behavior would become even more embarrassing…from Darya’s point of view. “See you later then…”, the dark-haired then said to her kinsman while turning to Tatiana, “…and you need a drink. A strong one the way I see it…" |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:48 PM Post #157 |
![]()
|
Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 1:34 pm Tatiana
"I do? I need a drink? Hmm..if you say so, Darya. Although the only thing that I've had over at the tavern is a mug of lemon tea. I've never had anything stronger than that." Tatiana replied to her friend, still slightly shivering from both Lancelot's warm touch and sultry look that he gave her from underneath his lashes, but not bad enough to keep her from walking over to the tavern. "I still think that Lancelot's definetly very good looking." She said in a musing tone. "I just wish that I could've put it into words better than that..do you think that he knew what I was trying to say to him, Darya? I mean that there's only one first impression that a person can give to another." She queried glancing at the dark-haired, an odd-look on her face. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:50 PM Post #158 |
![]()
|
Author: lady ione Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 6:10 pm Ione She had only slept a short while before she awoke. All she had done was dream, though her dreams were tossed and a bit jumbled. Opening her eyes slowly, Ione realized that the black cloak was still in her lap, and her fingers ran over the unfinished edges wondering if Titrus also needed a red cloak. Since Roman's had their own red issue cloaks, Ione figured that just the black one would do. She stretched slightly, and then relaxed, letting her gaze move to the gray day outside. The sky looked like snow. The store would still remain closed until the next day to give her time to mourn Ian's death. Perhaps she'd let close friends inside, but no customers... It was hard to do business when one was sad of heart. Reaching over, Ione took up the small sewing box as well as the white trim, and began to finish the last two sides of the lovely black cloak. Taking up the weaver's needle, Ione carefully began to sew the trim on where she had left off... She decided that she'd pay one more visit to Titrus's daughters before night fell, then she'd go and see the grave of her little baby boy. Ione had a funny thing about visiting graves in the dark, so she wanted to go before the sun set... |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:52 PM Post #159 |
![]()
|
Author: Starbelle Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 9:02 pm Jols Feeling Quintus' horse edge closer to his own, Jols carefully edged Gypsi closer to the Centurion to help comfort the nervous animal, until both horses were practically touching. "Easy, there, easy." The Squire murmured in a soft, gentle tone to Quintus' horse to help keep him calm. "How're you doing, Quintus? You ok over there?" He asked the Centurion softly as he looked over at him briefly before looking up ahead of himself then back at him, making sure the other man was doing ok as that was Jols' personality. He would take care of someone else before even bringing himself into any sort of thought. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:53 PM Post #160 |
![]()
|
Author: lady ione Date: Mon Nov 17, 2008 9:43 pm Vanora
Vanora waited for the other two before leaving the tavern with the two women in tow. then they exited the tavern and into the chill of the late afternoon. Deep down, she had not miscounted everything that she had heard of this new young woman from both Neeve and Lancelot, but that did not meant that she could not do something kind for Neeria... so long as she behaved herself. As they walked, Vanora looked up at the gray of the sky wondering if Bors was going to be alright out there on the mission. Vanora always thought that she should be use to battles and missions by now, but that same fear of Bors not returning seemed to always return. They had lost many friends in the past to war... Vanora looked curiously at Neeria then at Neeve and back. Something Neeria had said had stayed on her mind... a small statement Neeria had said concerning her husband. So he had died as well. No matter whether it was the enemy or those at the fort, war always brought tragedy to all concerned. Woads did not care about Roman losses, and the Romans did not care about Woad losses, but no doubt both sides felt equal pain for the loss of life. She looked at how Neeria pulled her large tunic up to her ears, "I might have an extra cloak, or one of Bors heavy jackets that he has out grown." Vanora watched how the young woman observed everything as though it was all new to her. As Neeria looked about her, Vanora looked at Neeve questioningly as if wanting to know all about Neeria. Perhaps later, she could fill Vanora in on who Neeria was, and how she had gotten to the fort... |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:54 PM Post #161 |
![]()
|
Author: golden_trillium Date: Tue Nov 18, 2008 8:04 am Quintus
"Uhhuh." Quintus gave a tight-lipped nod, not trusting himself to really speak, and keeping his eyes straight ahead on the two Woads who had appeared like specters out of the forest. He didn't want to give any of his feelings away- but silently, he was grateful for the seemingly-effortless job the squire had done of calming his horse. Sarmatians...they had the way with the beasts, that was for sure, and Quintus was glad to have them here. But he gave nothing away- merely sat straight in his saddle, attentive to whatever might happen next. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:55 PM Post #162 |
![]()
|
Author: Pinkie Date: Tue Nov 18, 2008 11:21 am Smith
Where indeed! Smith scowled at the surrounding forest trying to find the source of the discomfort of the forest. He knew a general direction but they needed more specific directions than that! He knew that and his ability failed him. He jutted his chin towards where they had been headed and looked back down at Guinevere, his handsome face marred with the beginnings of blood-lust. Smith was reserved when it came to battle - he did not hack and lash out the way some of the woads did, no. He fought with a skill the romans would be proud of. Kayley was tense behind him and Smith felt her reach for her weapons. He turned his head to the side careful of his injury and peered at her out of the corner of his dark eyes. "Be ready. I'll drop you to the gruond once we see them." he told her quietly and then turned away from her, leaning down to smooth a long-fingered hand against Scáth's impressive black neck.
Smith glanced over at Nolan's hissed order and then down to Rosita. He cocked an eyebrow at this and puffed out a breath. It wasn't that he disapproved of taking Rosita along - it was simply that he was quicker on his own. He gave the dark woad a nod of his head and then turned Scáth around, holding the beast back though he knew the stallion felt the surge of adrenaline in his master's thighs about his shoulders. The forest closed in around them Dark. Cold. Wet. Smith ducked and twisted away from low branches that were unused to the passage of a horse. The beast was not as quiet, of course, as the woads on foot, but he was a distraction. Perhaps the Romans would be so focussed on a horse to realise there were others on foot approaching. When he saw them he pulled in the reins of the horse. Kayley placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward. She whispered by his ear that she would be better on foot and Smith nodded his head. He reached a blind hand back for her to hold onto as she slid down the horse's side and went to join Rosita. The dark eyed woad looked down at the women and gestured in a wide arc, indicating that he would go around the Romans, taking them from behind. Then, as if their lives were not hanging in the balance he gave both women a disarmingly boyish smile. A flash of white teeth, a glimmer in almost black eyes and he had kicked his horse onwards through the trees, making enough noise to distract the Romans but not enough to make them blind to what their eyes could see. The woad ran a wide perimeter around the Romans and came up behind them on their tracks. One man stood out ahead of the rest, his braided head turned away from Smith as he addressed Nolan and Guinevere. Smith had not drawn a weapon yet - though he had four short swords between the ones on his horse's saddle and the one at his hip and he let his shoulder slip downwards casually leaning on the pommel of the saddle. He had a wayward, cheeky smirk on his lips as he watched the ones at the rear - they had them boxed in. Oh they were outnumbered of course but they had the forest on their side. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:56 PM Post #163 |
![]()
|
Author: Elessars Girl Date: Tue Nov 18, 2008 12:19 pm Arthur Arthur and Tristan communicated wordlessly – the Woads were close and presumably outnumbered the soldiers. A few of the horses in the group snorted and stomped at the frozen snow-covered earth beneath their hooves. Casti, Arthur’s magnificent white steed, remained as calm and stoic as his master. But clearly the animals sensed what their human counterparts could not readily see nor hear…..yet as the small party began to move forward again, the wind carried muffled sounds beyond those of the wispy noises of the firs and pines surrounding them. Arthur silently offered a prayer up to God for the strength to protect those that rode with him on this mission. He would gladly give his life if it meant the others would escape with their own. Tristan, still in the lead, once again signaled a halt. Arthur squinted against the way the dull light reflected brightly off the fresh snow…..but as he brought his war horse to a halt at Tristan’s side…..the Commander released a deep breath, lips slightly parted at the sight of who approached them from the north. His tongue flicked at his bottom teeth and his fingers released their grip on the hilt of his weapon – there would be no need of the blade with this one. Guinevere. The Commander heard Tristan’s rasping voice speak the word ‘peace’ while the scout also gestured with his arms, slow and deliberate, that he meant them no harm. Arthur with Amadeus to his right, having maneuvered along side of Tristan’s mount, offered Guinevere a pointed smile of familiarity for the briefest of time and then his gaze turned to her bodyguard. Not that she required one. The Commander gave a curt yet respectful nod to Merlin’s man and then his brilliant green eyes fell back to Merlin’s oh so perilous daughter. “Guinevere,” Arthur said her name evenly despite the intensity of his gaze. “I seek a peaceful meeting with your father….and I mean you no harm here,” He added while allowing his free hand to rest across his lap. There had always been ‘something’ between Arthur and Guinevere….perhaps mutual respect – although the lady had lost much of that with her last little escapade of setting the buildings a blaze in the fortress recently. Yet, as deceptively placid green eyes met her pale expression…Arthur still felt ‘something’ beyond annoyance towards Guinevere. Arthur had no doubt that his small party was by now completely surrounded by Guinevere’s people. He was certain that Merlin’s daughter would not be out here with only one companion…and thus even more curious – what was her purpose here? The camp had clearly been abandoned. Arthur’s gaze slightly narrowed and then he chose to make a calculated gesture that he was sure Guinevere would be receptive to….he slowly dismounted, albeit his wounded side protesting in the movement. He stepped in front of his horse and with Casti in tow, closed the small distance between himself and the two Woads. Arthur held the dark-eyed woman’s gaze as he came to stand before her. He was quite the contradiction to her in appearance – shining armor, twin dragons adorning his breastplate and famous sword expertly pressed to his hip. She was slender and deceptively delicate and stunningly beautiful……soft brown eyes easily held liquid green. No fear from either side….or so Arthur assumed. “Surely you are not lost, lady,” Arthur said with yet another smile that harbored on a familiarity between them despite the recent attacks and despite the fact that they did not truly know one another at all…..the magician’s daughter and the Roman Commander. Arthur’s hands rested behind his back, the fingers of one loosely held the leather reins as the great white stallion gently nuzzled at the Roman’s red cloak. |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:57 PM Post #164 |
![]()
|
Author: Darya Date: Tue Nov 18, 2008 1:09 pm Neeve Of course Neeria contradicted her yet again but this time, Neeve merely stared down at the Woad. For someone who usually was a not really talkative person, she had already said too much anyway. And to her it was obvious by now that the Woad was too pigheaded to be quiet for once…thus the healer just snorted deprecatingly, almost mocking Neeria with that… Then she turned to follow Vanora. And in her current mood, the Briton would probably not even have cared if the Woad had stood behind or done something equally stupid. That would at least have given her a good reason to send the prisoner right back into the dungeons… But Neeria did move and followed Vanora as well. Once the three women were outside, Neeve took a deep breath. Maybe the cold air could clear her senses and calm her down. Only a few steps away from the tavern, Dwyn returned to the healer’s shoulder with a caw…and with that managed to coax a brief wry smile from Neeve’s lips. “So you’ve waited for once…”, she stated quietly and lifted a hand to briefly brush over the black feather at the bird’s chest, “…you’re improving…” Then the raven-haired fell silent again. She just kept an eye on Neeria…but noticed Vanora seeking her gaze for a moment. Neeve arched an eyebrow at the other woman’s questioning gaze. No doubt the tavern-manager was rather curious about Neeria but Neeve was in no mood for any more conversations…or arguments about or with the Woad. At least for now. She needed a break. Soon they reached the house which Neeve recognized as that in which Vanora and Bors were living with all their kids. The healer increased her walking pace to catch up with Vanora for a moment and glanced sideways at the redhead. “Thanks…really…”, she murmured and a corner of her mouth twitched slightly. She meant it…and was confident that Vanora understood. Then Neeve waited for the tavern-manager to open the door while watching Neeria with a rather glowering expression… |
![]() |
|
| golden_trillium | May 24 2010, 09:59 PM Post #165 |
![]()
|
Author: LadyCastus Date: Tue Nov 18, 2008 1:35 pm Rosita and Nolan Guinevere and Nolan made their way down the path. Nolan scanned the forest as they walked, his body tense and his senses keen and finely tuned to every sound the wood made. Rosita ran behind Smith and Kayley until Smith dropped Kayley off and indicated to the women to head in the opposite direction to complete the perimeter. Rosita stayed low to the ground as she and Kayley made their way silently through the forest, the others following quietly behind them. Rosita, using hand signals, suggested to Micah and the others that they split off and head the other way so that they flanked the Romans. That way, they would have the Romans covered on each side, Smith would cover their rear and Nolan and Guinevere at the front. Micah nodded and headed off with the others. As they rounded a corner, they caught sight of Arthur's braided scout. Nolan bared his teeth and narrowed his golden eyes at Tristan. The woad's hand went to the blade secured on his hip as he snarled at the Sarmatian. Nolan's stride became cat-like as every muscle in his body tensed. He immediately felt the desire to kill and a crooked, evil grin crossed his face.
The scout showed both hands, indicating he held no weapons. Nolan rolled his eyes at Tristan and said nothing. He was more interested in who was behind Tristan, now moving forward. Arthur Castus. Wasn't he cheek? He had the nerve to return after the failed negotiations of yesterday? Nolan glared at the commander and took a step forward, moving closer to Guinevere. As Arthur dismounted and walked over to the princess, Nolan snarled and pulled out his blade, not sure of Castus' intentions.
"Leave here now, while you still have the chance, Roman," Nolan said and spat on the ground. His eyes flashed dangerously at Arthur. He could taste Arthur's blood on his tongue. Nolan licked his lips slowly. "Merlin wants nothing more to do with you." Nolan stole a quick glance at the rest of party with Arthur. He recognized the braided one and the big burly bald one. There were three other Romans in addition to the high-ranking Roman that had come yesterday and one that appeared to be a squire. Nolan looked at Guinevere, the muscles in his face tense as he clinched his jaw. "Let's be done and kill them now, princess." Titrus The hairs on the back of Titrus' neck and on his arms stood on end. He wasn't exactly afraid. He'd faced the woads before, but he more like nervous. The woods surrounding them were quiet yet they were full of life. The horses sensed it, the animals around them sensed it and now, much to his chagrin, Titrus sensed also. The lieutenant edged his horse over to Quintus. It was only because Titrus knew the man so well did he notice the slight pallor beneath the Centurion's normal complexion. "Stick close to me Quintus, everything'll be fine," he whispered. Then Titrus looked over his shoulder and Brendyn. "Keep close to me, Brendyn and keep your ears and eyes open. We're supposed to be on a peace mission so don't go brandishing any weapons unless Commander Castus orders us to. Stay focused on the Commander - he will order us what to do." Titrus had never seen Brendyn in action before and the last thing they needed was for some inexperienced pup going commando on them. Titrus was suddenly glad that Arthur had sent Karl back to the stables. No doubt Karl would have done something stupid to perhaps get them all killed. Just then, Guinevere and her henchman came into view. Titrus stifled a "fuck!" Tristan assured the two woads that Arthur et al had come in peace but the big woad next to her didn't look too convinced. Titrus heard a twig break or an animal scurry every now and then which surely meant they were surrounded but the lieutenant could not see anyone as he scanned the trees which looked more sinister than they had a few moments prior. "Bors!" Titrus whispered over to the burly knight. "How many do you think there are?" Titrus suddenly looked behind him as he heard the distinct sound of hooves stamping on the forest floor. Titrus looked back at Bors. "Sounds like the horse is behind us!" |
![]() |
|
![]() Our users say it best: "Zetaboards is the best forum service I have ever used." |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Vincit Omnia Veritas · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic | 2:26 PM Jul 11 |







