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| November 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,045 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:33 PM Post #196 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Fri Nov 21, 2008 3:29 pm Adian "AWWW FUCK IT ALL!" He had once again hit his finger with the hammer... second time during the course of the day. Why could he not just keep him mind on his work? Adian dropped the hammer, and brought the injured finger to his mouth as if to stop the pain. There was something about the young woman he had seen in the tavern that had bothered him... was it the ragged clothes that the healer had drug the woman into the tavern in? Well, that was a low form of humiliation, and what was that curly headed man's interest in the woman? Even if she was a prisoner, or perhaps some homeless woman begging, or thieving for money she should have had a bath and a bit of a cleaning before taking her about like some germ for others to stare at. A bath. Tatiana. With all of the work he had left to do, he was not sure if he'd be home on time... if not a bit late. He had promised her a quiet evening, but he also had to make some money to put aside for food and clothes. His boots were almost worn out. He was sure Tatiana would understand if he was a bit late. Stepping back from the new window frame he had made, Adian judged it, his trained eyes moving over the surface to make sure everything was a good snug, not tight fit. It is was snug and with wood expanded, the frame would crack. Satisfied with his work on the frame, Adian moved over to another damaged part of the infirmary. He was almost done with the repairs, then he'd move on to the next damaged building. There was a good and bad side to the woad attacks: they did cause grief, but if they did not attack, he would not have so much work to do. And he liked to keep busy. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:34 PM Post #197 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 3:28 am Darya
Darya took a deep breath and frowned slightly as she continued to listen to Tatiana’s words. For someone who had never met the First Knight before, she was showing a strange interest in him. Especially since he was in a rather…bad shape…today. For the female Sarmatian, it was an amusing if not a ridiculous thought that her kinsman’s oh so charming show outside the tavern had made such an impact on Tatiana. But then… At least that part of it worked out just fine??? “Just to make sure I get it right here…”, the dark-haired then mused and arched an eyebrow at the stable-hand, “…you wanted to play up to him? For what? You don’t know him, right?” Darya puffed out a breath. “Oh, let me guess…you have heard some of those rumours about him? Or have listened to other women slobbering over him?” No matter if their chitchat was just their dreams or something they had heard from yet another person… Then the serving wench returned and placed a mug of tea in front of Darya…and a mug of ale – at least by the smell of it – in front of Tatiana. She had also brought a small plate with a few already chopped pieces of raw meat. Darya handed the woman a few coins and thanked her before picking up a piece of meat… She held it out for Tristan’s hawk…and the bird first tilted its head as if suspicious…but then took the meat out of her hand… The Sarmatian smiled wryly for a moment…but then focused on Tatiana again. “Or let’s put it the other way round…”, the dark-haired continued while clasping her mug of tea with both her hands, glad for the warmth it was radiating as she did so, “…what do you want from Lancelot? Maybe if I know that, I can tell you whether or not it might work for you…” |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:35 PM Post #198 |
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Author: Eledhwen Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 7:00 am Bors
Ah, now this sounded promising, and it hadn't taken as long as Bors had feared either. He grinned to himself wolfishly, and spat onto the ground over his mount's left shoulder before hitching his bulk straighter in the saddle. The bit about being surrounded he didn't like though, and he threw a hard look over his shoulder at the Woad on the horse behind them. He picked up his reins loosely and held them low on the pommel of his saddle, in his left hand as always, leaving his right hand free to draw his sword swiftly over his arm should he need it. The big gelding shivered beneath him, eager to be gone, as it caught the tension in its master's touch. "That drink might be closer than you fink Titrus me old mate," he murmured under his breath. "I 'ope you've got deep pockets, there's not a man in that fort can drink me under the table." He stole a quick glance at Quintus, and decided that if it came to it, he wouldn't be too quick to jump to that one's rescue. Let the pompous prick fend for himself. Who did he think he was, telling Bors to 'Sshh'? Tosser. |
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| golden_trillium | May 25 2010, 11:37 PM Post #199 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 9:54 am Titrus
Titrus buried his mouth in his closed fist and giggled hysterically. Then he winked back Bors, acknowledging his complete understanding.
Quintus shot Bors a dirty look, reprimanding him for speaking. Titrus knew the admonishment was meant for him as well, though Quintus didn't dare address it directly to the lieutenant. "Quintus, that's enough. There's nothing wrong with sharing humor in a tense moment like this. I can assure you that the commander and the optio can handle what's going on with the woads without any assistance from you. It would be best for you to harness your feelings of discomfort and to relax a little. Commander Castus will let us know what we should do and when we should do it. In the meantime, we know we are surrounded and are being watched. That's all the information we need for now." Then Titrus turned back to Bors. Trying to look serious.
"My pockets have to be deep, if you know what I mean.." Titrus wagged his eyebrows at Bors and giggled again. Then the lieutenant looked ahead just as Guinevere spoke loud enough for all of them to hear.
Titrus looked at Quintus. "See, you didn't miss a thing." The lieutenant tightened the grip of his reins, adjusted in his saddle and murmured with knitted brows. "Well. Here we go." |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 09:58 PM Post #200 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:54 pm Gawain
Looking quite very uncomfortable in his predicament, Gawain glanced over at his female companion standing next to Trickster's stall, a come-hither look in her dark ebony-colored eyes that were almost turning into a smoky color during her little speech. "I'm sorry for leading you on, Eyla, as well as playing hard to get as you put it with this little act, but I was only helping Galahad out back there in the arena. You're very pretty and I'll pay you for your time while you were with me. Its just that you're making me very nervous and skittish with you being so close to me. I like women, truly, but you're just a bit to flamboyant for my tastes, love." Trickster neighed, pawed and snorted while standing in his stall, untacked sensing his master's discomfort with her standing so close to him. Almost as if he was giving her his disapproval at making him so jittery. Tatiana
While she listened as the dark-haired spoke but before she replied to her, she watched as Darya picked up a piece of raw meat from the plate that the serving girl placed down on their table along with their drinks and fed the hawk with it. "Well, true, I don't know him, at least not that well.. and yea..I have heard some of the other ladies talk about him and I did hear a few of those rumors about him." Tatiana said nodding slightly. Bringing the mug of ale to her lips, the stable-hand took a tentative smell then a sip at the amber colored liquid, before coughing slightly in reaction to her first swallow of it. "Darya, you sure weren't kidding about this being a very strong drink."Tatiana said blinking and wiping at her eyes a few times. "I guess what I want is just to have a friendship with him, if that's even possible?" She took another sip of the ale and this time it didn't get her coughing. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 09:59 PM Post #201 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 1:56 pm Eyla Eyla was a woman in high demand, and made no secret of it. She had pleasured Roman men, Roman women, Sarmatians, soldiers...and she enjoyed every moment of it. Her status as a whore was well-known throughout the fortress of Badon Hill, and any man who did not know it...was clearly a fool, or so sexually inept that a woman’s anatomy was like a foreign country. Eyla did not waste time over one particular man, because there was always someone else around, always another to fall prey to her charm. She watched Gawain from beneath her thick eyelashes, and smirked at him. Oh, but it was patronising and demanding, but then he was playing a fool! A self-restrained and hesitant Sarmatian? Whatever next! Did he not realise he could die tomorrow, or next week? Did he value himself too highly for pleasures of the body...and had he secretly turned Christian overnight? Eyla’s lips were full in petulance, and she was growing impatient with his reactions. Eyla continued her pursuit of men such as Arthur...because they were true men, wealthy, virtuous, and an enjoyment to corrupt! But Gawain? He was just another Sarmatian, another notch on a very long bedpost...
Eyla looked at him, and by god, she thought she was hearing things! In the space of a few seconds, the Knight had gone from chivalrous to...offensive? The whore arched her eyebrows at the Sarmatian, and laughed. Loudly, hard, and very close to his face. A little flamboyant? Clearly, and far above his status, standing or capability. The whore was not offended, but rather very amused by his attempts to patronise her. The man invited her to see his horse, and then rejected any attempt to make love with her! Did he not know she was a whore? Did he not understand how to please a woman? Her sultry brown eyes dipped to his crutch, and she met his eyes again, with vehemence...and bitter amusement. “Love?” Eyla spoke, softly and sweetly. She lifted her eyebrows at the man, and continued to giggle at him. Her dark hair curled softly into her impressive bosom, and she smiled at him. Seductively, beautifully....and completely patronising. “I am so very sorry Gawain, to have offended you so quickly. I did not realise that you were inept to pleasure me...but now it makes perfect sense, lovely. Do not fear. I have fun enough pleasuring your brothers in arms...oh, and the Romans.” Eyla pouted at him, her eye sparkling with annoyance. “You could not afford me, sweetheart. And I doubt your performance would be worth any form of discount...” Eyla lifted a finger and pointed it at Gawain’s crotch. She shook her head, laughing. “More to be desired, eh? You should speak to Lancelot. He definitely isn’t lacking in any such area...” The whore was cruel, blunt, but she did not feel guilty. Gawain had wasted her time, and then was frightened to lay with her! Pathetic. Ridiculous, and she had no patience for it. With a flamboyant swish of skirts, Eyla turned on her heel and walked out of the stall. She did not allow time for a reaction, nor did she fancy humouring the Knight. There were men with money at Badon, men who knew their only chance at happiness would be between Eyla’s thighs...so why waste time on a shabby and irritable Sarmatian? The woman was impressive in her coltish nature, her selfishness. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, and glared over into the stall where Galahad was sleeping... |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:00 PM Post #202 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 2:03 pm Ione One more side of the cloak to go. Ione stopped for a moment to check her work making sure that all of the stitches were uniform and neat looking. loose threads were unsightly, and they annoyed the weaver, so whenever she could, she made sure the stitches were tight but neat. She set her work down for a moment and left her thoughts drift... Somewhere out in the cold damp day was someone who she cared about. Would he return alive? Was he alright? She could not imagine not having him about to make her laugh, talk with, or just to make her blush once in a while... he made her feel cared for and loved. Ione looked down at the cloak in her lap, feeling over the soft fabric. What she felt for him, she'd keep to herself. She lay one hand on her stomach and felt the baby move gently, and it brought a smile to her face. Of all of the dreams she had had, to have a child had been one of them: a baby to care for and love. No, she didn't know who's child it was, and even if she did, no one needed to know that either. Her thoughts went again to the son that she had lost, and a tear ran down her face. If Titrus were to die, plus the loss of Ian and Accolan... Titrus had to come home alive. His daughters needed him. He was the bright spot in her life, and her thoughts went out to him hoping that he'd be home soon. Ione wondered with a smile if it would seem stupid of her to run up, throw her arms about him and welcome him home... other women were not afraid to welcome their men home after a battle or mission, so why couldn't she? He was not hers per se, but she really cared about what happened to him, and always wished for him to be safe... Slowly, she picked up her work, took up the needle, and began the last side of the black cloak knowing how handsome he'd look in it.... |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:01 PM Post #203 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 2:46 pm Darya The dark-haired discretely cleared her throat when Tatiana once more confirmed her thoughts: of course she had heard some of the glorious rumours about Lancelot. And of course those rumours did not only pertain to his skills with his twin blades. Darya had heard some herself…though they couldn’t impress her. They amused her…sort of. Sighing silently, Darya lifted her mug and inhaled the herbal scent of the warm tea. She briefly closed her eyes and savoured the feeling the scent was causing. It was calming…yet refreshing. Carefully, she drank some of the tea while listening to Tatiana…
A corner of the female Sarmatian’s lips twitched slightly while she glanced at Tatiana over the rim of her own mug. “It’s ale…”, she explained with a shrug of her shoulder, “…not the strongest of all drinks but should be enough to calm you down.” A pause and Darya took another sip of her tea. It felt so good to feel the warm liquid make its way down her throat. “And it is Lancelot’s favourite drink…”, she then added, pretty sure that Tatiana would be happy about yet another information regarding the First Knight… Then she removed one of her hands from her mug and picked up another piece of meat for the hawk. The bird appeared hungry as it immediately took the meat from her hand again. Well, the animal would need as much food as she could get to help the healing process of its wing, the woman assumed. Yet she still had Tristan’s words in mind: feed her once a day. So this meat would be all for the hawk today…
Friendship? Darya blinked as she shifted her dark gaze from the hawk to Tatiana once more. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure if Lancelot had friends at all. The other knights were brothers in arms…most women he knew probably could be best described as conquests or entertainment. Well, and Arthur was…something else; but not a mere friend. And she herself? Her relationship to this specific kinsman could certainly not be described as friendship either. Thus Tatiana’s question about whether or not a friendship with the knight was even possible was a quite good one. Just too bad Darya had no idea what the answer might be… Pensively, the Sarmatian sipped some more of her tea, trying to find the right words for her reply; especially since she did not want to give away too much about Lancelot either…pretty sure he wouldn’t be too happy about it. “Well…”, she began hesitantly, “…I guess only time will tell. He is not…the easiest person, you know.” With that, Darya gave Tatiana a weak smile, knowing that her reply most likely would not satisfy the other woman’s hunger for information…but what else should she say? Things with the First Knight mostly depended on his mood… |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:02 PM Post #204 |
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Author: Pinkie Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 2:58 pm Amadeus Suspcious, immediately Amadeus was suspicious. Why must they be so close to speak of this? Hadn't Arthur brought him out here to see how to treat with the woads? Is this what he expected him to do with Merlin? To whisper sweet nothings in his ear? Amadeus presumed he would be as likely to go away without his ear should that be the means to any end... Arthur's hand came out to touch Guinevere's elbow and for a moment he had a sickening thought that the two had coupled... that there was more between them than her being the daughter of their enemy. To Amadeus' prude eyes this was far too intimate a contact, far too friendly! He wished that he could hear what was being said but the two were stood too far away from him for that. And the whispering voices behind him were beginning to wear on Amadeus' very thin patience. Did they not realise that this was important? Did they have no respect for their Commander or for themselves that they could not hold their tongue and be attentive for the briefest of times whilst Arthur struck an accord with this wench? Once their deal was brokered then the men could talk without it being entirely out of order, out of line. The Optio's fist tightened about the reins of his horse and he leaned forward in his saddle in an effort to see what transpired between woman and man. It was a vain effort. All he saw was the woman lifting her hand to Arthur's chest. Feeling disgusted at this wanton display and sick to death of listening to the snippy, snivelling whispers and snickers from behind the Optio whirred his horse around quite suddenly. It was just as he was turning that the supposed 'superior' amongst the men spoke up, and in a voice loud enough that Amadeus could haer it now that he was turned to face them. They made a mockery of the whole mission these men did. Tristan sat silent, and Quintis and Brendyn too. Amadeus did not glare at those men but the rest were all fixed with a resolutely irritated frown. He cared not for his new fangled reputation as being 'one of the men' in this - oh by God no. This mission was more important than their whispered conversations or his reputation amongst them. Amadeus knew when to plot and when to shut the hell up and attend to a situation. The men had been brought as an honour guard of sorts and instead of exemplifying their noble roots in Roman history they ridiculed both Castus, themselves and yes, they ridiculed him, Amadeus Scipio. The highest ranking of the men, Titrus, giggled....! Giggled! Amadeus glared at him even as he turned to look at Arthur, seeming to recall himself to their situation here. He glared at him and then fixed the others with an equally affronted glower, daring any of them to speak up for he would take good note of who it was that dared to do so and they would be severely rebuked for showing such disrespect to their superiors. Amadeus was all for undermining Castus - but not when their damn heads sat on the line, and not when it truly did seem like the Commander had a knack with dealing with the blue demons even if Aamdeus did not approve of it. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:05 PM Post #205 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 5:56 pm Karl Karl smiled as the warm libation slid down his throat. Wherever Mirtha got his stash, it sure was good. The stablemaster had put the snacks Karl offered him on the stable floor. Karl shrugged his shoulders and snatched the goodies back. Maybe Mirtha didn't like to eat and drink. That was fine with Karl, that just meant more for him. It also meant that he wouldn't get sick after drinking all day and puke like a barnyard dog. The very thought of it made the man quiver.
Karl raised an eyebrow as he downed another hefty sip from his own flask. "Who?" he asked. "Captain Barbattus?" Karl started laughing. "You shoulda just told the man yer fucking name, stupid! Malcus isn't like most of those uptight assholes. Like that fuckin' Scipio character!" Karl took another drink from the flask and rolled his eyes. "Cap'n Barbattus shoot it to ya straight and if you don' t like it, he'll kick your ass. Just like he kicked yours today!" Karl laughed again and pull off a piece of jerky with his teeth. "Don't get all mad though, mate, drink up!" Karl peeped over a stall to see if anyone else had come into the stables. "And after we're done, maybe I'll go find me some pussy," he said with a sly, wicked grin. Neeria Neeria's bones began to thaw out as she stood just inside the doorway of Vanora's modest home. The woad continued to look around and even the home was not very large, it was very neat and clean.
When Vanora left the room to get the clothes, Neeria looked about, trying to remember if she'd ever stepped foot in such a place. She could not recall if she had. For a fleeting moment, she thought of her husband, Mikal. She wondered what it would have been like if she'd been able to have a home like that with him where they could have children one day. But she would never see Mikal again and it would never happen because her beloved was dead. Killed by a filthy pig Roman. The Roman she saw in the dungeons who had the gall to wear Mikal's knife. thanks to the Romans. The woad bit her bottom lip. She'd wanted to have babies with Mikal. Beautiful, strong, naive Britons. She would live to see the day she would slit that Roman's throat.
The healer's voice broke Neeria's thoughts. So the Roman soldiers lived in huts or in large building in a room. Neeria wondered where Tristan lived and what his room looked like. She also wondered where the dark knight lived. Neeria remembered the closeness of Lancelot's face and blinked away the image, shocked at herself. Then the woad wondered where the blond Roman lived. That would be good information to have and right then, Neeria decided to make it her business to find out. "I see," Neeria said as the two women continued to wait for Vanora to come back with the clothes. Nolan Nolan continued to glare at the optio. He wanted to kill the man so badly, Nolan could almost taste the other man's blood on his tongue. He looked over the optio's shoulder, further down the line and made eye contact with Smith. The wind continued to howl through the trees as Arthur and Guinevere continued their private conversation.
Nolan watched as Guinevere placed her hand on the Roman's breastplate. Damnable women! Nolan cursed in his mind. His face showed no difference. Playing women's games with the enemy! The gods did not favor the princess using her feminine wiles to entice the Roman devil, Castus. The woad's stomach flipped as Guinevere spoke with amusement in her voice to him.
How would Merlin feel if he knew she toyed with the enemy? Nolan wondered just how close Guinevere and Arthur had become. Was Guinevere really able to separate her rather obvious feelings for Arthur with her loyalty to her people?
While she waited for Arthur to mount, Nolan moved to the princess's side and whispered in her for no one else to hear. "Are you actually taking them to the village? Perhaps it would be better to bring Merlin here. You cannot compromise the location of our village, Guinevere! How do we know this is not a trick?" |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:06 PM Post #206 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sat Nov 22, 2008 6:36 pm Jols Sitting on Gypsi's back, he saw Amadeus' true colors appear while The Commander was creating safe passage for them while he had a conversation with Merlin's daughter. I had a feeling that he wasn't exactly on the up-and-up around us and thought that act was just that, an act. He thought with a scowl on his face. Listening to the other Sarmatians and soldiers chat quietly around him while all this was going on, he looked around at the foliage trying to see if he could or find out where the other woads could be hiding. Listening to Titrus' giggle, he found himself joining in as Gypsi shook his head and paw nervously at the ground making the leather of the bridle and the saddle creak and squeak during the movements. Once he calmed down, the squire wondered when the woads started riding horses. "A woad on a horse? What will they think up next, I wonder?" The squire muttered to himself but was loud enough for anyone sitting on a horse next to him to hear his comment. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:08 PM Post #207 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Nov 23, 2008 11:20 am Arthur Arthur’s gaze was unflinching, even as Guinevere lifted a hand to touch his well fortified chest. He could not truly feel the contact of her fingers there as they lightly traced over the pair of dragons that adorned his breastplate, yet Arthur was not unmoved by the gesture. His green eyes reflected the inquisitive way Guinevere appeared to be assessing him, too. She was perhaps using her womanly wiles to sway Arthur’s sympathy same as he had attempted charm to gain her trust. Perhaps both had been successful. Guinevere’s dark soulful eyes once again returned to meet Arthur’s gaze and he was certain that the two had understood one another. A truce – if only temporary.
Arthur met Guinevere’s smile with one of his own, although the gesture did little more than confirm his concurrence with her words. If it were in his power, the Commander would make peace with the Woads. Although, Arthur had no doubt that he would indeed spend the rest of his days defending Rome’s position here. And if that meant continued confrontations with Guinevere’s people, then so be it.
“I thank you for your kindness, lady,” Arthur answered with a slight tilt of his head. He spoke the words gently, but not entirely without travesty. He held his position until Guinevere turned away to address her companions. But as the Commander finally turned ‘round to gather Casti’s reins, he heard the distinct sound of men snickering and giggling? from the group of soldiers accompanying him. Arthur’s mouth formed a tight line in antagonism. These men were supposed to be the most trustworthy….and yet they risked the brittle truce Arthur had only just negotiated with what? Shenanigans? The Commander’s gaze briefly ticked to his Optio and Amadeus had turned his mount to presumably silence the men in Arthur’s stead.
Arthur heard Guinevere’s words from behind as he looped Casti’s leather reins over the majestic white stallion’s withers in preparation to mount. She, of course, had the upper hand here and Arthur knew it. But he had something in mind for this ride to Merlin that might even the field so to speak. “Men,” Arthur’s voice was deep and resoundingly clear as he addressed the group behind Scipio. His right hand rested on Casti’s saddle while his left gave a firm tug at his sword belt. “We shall ride on to Merlin in escort. Show only courtesy and reverence,” Arthur added the last part in clear reprimand to whoever had been snickering moments ago. Intense emerald eyes ticked to each man, one by one, before returning to Amadeus. Arthur then gave his Optio a firm and positive nod; silently conveying that he had every confidence in their safety…for now. Guinevere would not unnecessarily risk bloodshed. And there was a way that Arthur would use that was certain to prevent trouble….he turned back towards the dark-haired Woad with the soulful earthen eyes and pale skin….she was the Commander’s equal had their situations been different. “Lady,” Arthur called out to Guinevere and extended his right hand to her. “I would consider it an honour if you would ride with me,” He said with an expression of knowing and trust while awaiting her answer. Surely she would not refuse such an offer. And the gesture would go a long way in ensuring the safety of them all. It was a calculated risk still….but as Arthur tended to keep his friends close, he would keep his enemy closer still. And riding into Merlin’s village with the magician’s daughter in his possession (so to speak), Arthur knew the Woad leader would not refuse a meet. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:10 PM Post #208 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Nov 23, 2008 12:05 pm Tristan and Quintus
"Mmph." Quintus made the barest grunt of acknowledgement to the words of the squire beside him, keeping his eyes to the front. He could feel the angry gaze of the Optio on the group, and he felt vindicated, knowing that it was not meant for him, but for others. Lieutenant Titrus- ha! What did the man have out for him today, anyway? Telling him to ignore Karl for talking back to him...shaming him in front of the rest of the men just now for doing his duty. Hmmmph. Quintus might be a man of little consequence in the larger scheme of the world, but he was a good Centurion, a damn good one, he knew, and he had the sharp, prickly pride of petty authority. And Liuetenant Titrus had just offended it- twice today. Quintus was not pleased...but he felt vindicated, almost smug. Especially when Arthur, after taking a step back from the Woad woman, turned to speak to the group.
Show only courtesy and reverence...damn right, otherwise they'll cut our eyes out. Quintus hardened his muscles to iron, sitting up even straighter and stiffer in his saddle, eyes fixed ahead and ears pricked, not giving Titrus or Bors a glance. Brendyn, he gave a tiny one...just to make sure that the only man here under his charge was all right. But he was, and he hadn't been one of those giggling and snickering, either. A short distance forward and sideways, Tristan frowned as he looped the reins idly around his wrist again and edged Tirgatao a bit towards the other horses in response to Arthur's order. So Guinevere had agreed to take them to Merlin...interesting. Maybe promising, unless it was a trap. Nolan, the man with her, seemed perhaps to disagree, though...he approached her and whispered something in her ear while Arthur was approaching his horse, but Tristan could not tell what was being said. He did, however, hear Arthur ask Guinevere to ride with him, and he gave a tiny nod of agreement at that. Keep her close...just in case. That way if her people made a false move, it could be her throat on the line. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:11 PM Post #209 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Sun Nov 23, 2008 1:49 pm Tatiana
"So, that's what this called? Its pretty strong for a newcomer, like me." Hearing that it was Lancelot's favorite drink, caused her to rethink her opinion on it while she watched her feed the hawk as well as looking around at all the other tavern occupants. "Lancelot really likes this, stuff huh?" She asked Darya intregued at that bit of information. "That's interesting. Maybe I'll order another one before this one's done, then." Tatiana said as she started looking around for a serving girl.
"Hmm..he does seem to have an unique personailty." Tatiana said musingly as she caught the eye of a passing serving girl and ordered another ale for herself and a mug of lemon tea for Darya. "He does seem like the loner type..almost as if..he'd much rather be alone. I wonder..though..if I were to offer him my friendship..what his reaction would be?" Tatiana mused outloud as the girl came back with another round of drinks for them where the stable-hand paid her a few coins in thanks. |
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| golden_trillium | May 26 2010, 10:13 PM Post #210 |
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Author: TwistOfShadows Date: Sun Nov 23, 2008 4:28 pm Guinevere Guinevere of Briton stood strong against the Roman party. Her intense black eyes met all with an undeniable confidence and intellect. This woman had negotiated before, and she would do so again. Her lithe blue body was harmonised by the woodland around her. Tall, old and twisted trees loomed endlessly into the sky above them, and slight breezes caressed their leaves, rustling, whispering, throughout the land. Their path was wild, overgrown, natural and untouched by the grace of the gods...and it was a blessing. Briton did not need walls, Briton did not need gold to justify its existence in the world. It was here. Strong, beautiful, and inhabited by the loyal and strong natives. Rome sought to destroy this peace, and Rome would suffer in her hostility. Christendom had not yet captured British soil, and Pagans still ruled here. The Pagan gods had not abandoned the Woads, and nor would they. Guinevere stood firm against Arthur’s party...and to a degree, she should firm against him. She was no fool, and she was not merely a woman. Guinevere was a Woad Princess of superb standing and strong will. It would take more than pretty words to disarm her...but she trusted Arthur’s word. It meant more than the Optio’s failed mission, it meant more than killing them here, and now. The woman looked at Arthur, and he was a strange friend. But still an enemy... Yes, he would have passage to Merlin. Perhaps it was his charming manner that granted him leverage? Or it was his British mother, that Guinevere did not know...but was grateful to for Arthur’s better qualities? Guinevere herself had lived within Badon Hill, and she knew its inhabitants. She knew...their way, to a fashion...and Arthur could have killed her at any moment. He could have taken a knife to her throat, and attacked Merlin personally and savagely? But he had not, and Guinevere did not forget. He was merciful, forgiving...and these were strange traits for a Roman...
Guinevere turned to look at Nolan, and her movement was slow, calculated. She blinked at him lazily, unaffected by his rash and untrusting allegations on her judgement. The Woad did not appreciate his questions, especially in front of their enemy. It showed weakness, it showed a ridiculous lack of thinking on his part...and Guinevere’s jaw hardened. She wanted to verbally chastise him for speaking aloud, for not being more careful and meticulous in his manner. She parted her lips to speak, but decided against it. Nolan was a good man, passionate for his cause, but his behaviour could be driven by bloodlust. Clearly.
Guinevere looked back at Arthur, and she raised her eyebrows in amusement. There was a look of annoyance upon her face, a result of Nolan’s questioning, but she offered Arthur a slight smile. The Woad woman reached out to the Roman’s hand, but did not fully take it. Her small fingers interlocked with his, and she felt the rough calluses upon his skin. The skin of a warrior, a man. Guinevere squeezed his fingers gently, softly, and it was merely a whisper of the strength she possessed. She was still feminine, and understood the power of touch. But she could not mount with him now, not yet. The woman turned her attention back to Nolan, but she did not release Arthur’s fingers immediately. Her thumb swept across the strong line of his knuckles, and then she let go. Stepping closer to Nolan, and not answering Arthur’s question... “Nolan.” She spoke carefully, slowly. Her small hand reached out to touch his arm, and she did not turn her back to Arthur. No. With a quick movement, she stepped very close to Nolan and placed her mouth beside his ear. Speaking, loudly, so that everyone could hear. It was no trick, and there was no compromising of locations. “A trick, you say? Indeed, I would like to see a trick performed by such a small party...when our own village is larger in population and full of very angry Britons.” Guinevere’s voice was loud, and she pinched her fingertips into Nolan’s arm. It was a warning, and the Princess meant it. Speaking low, she whispered a final declaration. “Interrogate me again in front of the enemy...and I’ll have your fingers removed for making me look like a fool. You only need one hand for a sword, my friend...” Guinevere spat her words, and turned quickly away from him. She allowed no chance for a reply, and she wanted none at all. Her jaw was hard, and she flexed her fingers angrily. Her dark eyes turned back to Arthur, and she spoke again. “I will ride with you, Artorius Castus, if it please you.” She replied. Her voice was still tainted with annoyance. Her lips lifted into a slight smile, and she tipped her head to the side. Her dark eyes searched his face, and she stepped towards him once more. Slowly. Her movements were not overtly feminine, but they were graceful, a mockery of delicate manners. Guinevere was not fragile, but she pretended so once in a while. It amused her. “I’m sure you will be well-behaved, as you are clearly outnumbered by those you can see, and those you cannot. My brother-in-arms will lead us.” Guinevere spoke smoothly, and she reached out to grasp Arthur’s hand. She turned to look at Nolan, and nodded for him to take the lead ahead. Oh, it was a risk to ride with Arthur, but Guinevere did not feel threatened. She was frightened of no Roman... |
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