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November 2008
Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,055 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Nov 04, 2008 9:40 pm
Titrus and Karl


Titrus scratched his ragged chin and looked up just as Arthur
moved closer to the group waiting for him at the stables.

Arthur
 
"Optio...men."


Amadeus
 
"Commander Castus. We are ready to ride on your command.
It is a fine day for riding. The cold overnight will
have hardened the ground for our passage."


Tristan
 
"Yeah... Arthur- we going to the village if the camp's
empty?"


Titrus listened carefully. He hoped they'd seek out the
magician and get this settled one way or another. Merlin had
backed out on his treaty and people had died on both sides.
Titrus had been awake almost non-stop since the attack and his
nerves were on edge. Merlin should either keep the treaty or
die. To Titrus, those were the only choices. He wanted to get
this done and over with so he could return to his daughters,
if all went well that is. The lieutenant thought about his
girls. He knew he had left their fate in good hands with Ione.
Titrus trusted the weaver and he was sure that if anything
happened to him, Ione would make sure they left Badon safely
to their family outside the fortress.

But Titrus quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind.
First, nothing was going to happen to him and secondly,
thinking of such things were a distraction. The lieutenant
turned his attention to Karl. He narrowed his eyes and hoped
the fool would keep his mouth shut and not do anything to
embarrass him or Captain Barbattus.

Karl shifted again in his saddle. His ass was sore already and
they hadn't even started out yet. The sour Roman watched
Arthur carefully. The commander turned his back and faced
Lancelot, blocking the view of what he was saying or doing.
Karl raised an eyebrow. What the hell were they going to do?
Kiss and say good-bye? Karl wished to hell they'd get on with
it. His patience was beginning to wear thin. After a moment,
the commander turned back around and approached the group.

Now, maybe they could get on with it.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 6:04 am

Kayley


Smith
 
"You don't need any of them, Kayley. Not Colin, not Roan
- not even me. You're tougher and stronger than the lot
of us."


Guinevere
 
“We have been gone too long, but the road is longer.
Tell me, what news?”


Micah remained in brooding silence, and Kayley had to sigh in
defeat. She had had no intention of torturing Micah. Even if
her tone suggested so, it was not meant to be. Oh, it was
undisputed that Micah was a fine warrior, but Kayley knew the
enigmatic side of him that most did not. She understood his
habits, if not always his actions, or lack there of. Sometimes
she understood his thoughts, but only when he let her inside.
He was stronger than he let on. It was not her that would
break him, for he was much too strong. He would fight, he
would live, he would love. Someday Micah would accept she
could not be what he wanted her to be to him. She hoped.

Kayley couldn't resist a wry smile when Smith glanced back at
her with that heart-stopping smile of his. Only her heart did
not skip a beat, and she did not turn away and blush like most
women would in response. Oh, he was just full of charm and
charisma and he knew it - only she knew it, too - and it was
unlike her to fall foolishly head-over-heels. Still that smile
of his was something she never grew tired of seeing. She
cocked her head to the side, pursing her full lips in
consideration of his answer. He looked away and urged the
horse onward. Her piercing blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully
upon him. Need, no...he was right about that. She didn't need
- but want was an entirely different tune altogether...

Movement in the trees suddenly caught Kayley's attention, and
she felt Scáth come to a halt. Soon both Guinevere and Ceinwyn
dropped to the ground before them and greeted their other
brethren before the Woad princess turned to her and Smith.
Kayley gave the other woman a cordial nod. Truthfully, she was
glad to see her sister-in-arms apparently well. She sought
solitude no more since Mona's passing, and had come to join
her brethren once again. Where she belonged. Ceinwyn seemed,
well, the same as ever. Standoffish, a bit crazed around the
eyes even. Some Woads called her a traitor; Kayley was
unbiased. After all, Merlin had allowed for her to remain -
and to remain alive. Certainly that said something.

"The others resumed their journey to our village this morning.
Your father has ordered us back to the camp to bury our fallen
brethren and then follow," Kayley spoke up.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 8:07 am
Linnesse


Ione
 
"I am glad that you like the dress, Linnesse. Mother
taught me how to weave and dress-make when I was
younger...it was the only thing we liked to do
together...do you weave or sew? Perhaps you could come
over sometime and do some projects with me?"


Linnesse looked up from the fireplace, where, even though the
fire was now going, she had been carefully placing sticks and
logs so that they need only be pushed a little further into
the fire, not moved over from the woodbox- trying to make it
as easy as possible for Ione once she had gone.

"Oh, I sew, of course, but I haven't had much time for it
lately. Since I started in the infirmary I haven't done more
than mend a few things." She gave a lopsided smile and a
shrug. Truthfully, she had once enjoyed needlework, but Rufus-
since she had been imprisoned in her room with nothing else to
do except embroider and dread her husband's homecoming- it had
lost most of its pleasure for her. She didn't mind mending or
making at need, and it did give her satisfaction to know that
she was keeping Derfel in presentable, even attractive
clothing, but sewing and embroidering were no longer something
she did for their own sake. Though...

"I've been thinking I should make some things for Linnette's
baby, though...especially since she has so much else on her
mind." Linnesse's face shaded into sadness as she stood up,
the fire arranged to her satisfaction and the image of Gedeon,
and of the now perennially sad Linnette, her eyes downcast and
slightly swollen, flickering in her mind. Yes- she should do
as much as she could to take burdens off her sister, and
sewing was one of them.

"I've never made baby things before, though- perhaps you could
show me some time?" Linnesse suggested to Ione more brightly.
Ione would have baby things of her own to make, if all went
well, and in any case, she must know how to make them, whereas
Linnesse had never had the need. Ione could be a help to her,
and would probably appreciate the company and the help
herself.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 10:18 am
Neeve


Neeria
 
"You and your companions have made it perfectly clear
just how lucky I am, but my luck doesn't really feel as
good as you seem to think.


Neeve only snorted quietly but did not react to the Woad’s
sarcastic reply. She saw no sense in arguing about their
current situation. That would make it only worse. And after
all it was possible that she would have to deal with Neeria
for days…depending on how Arthur’s mission would work out. And
the more grateful was the healer when Dwyn suddenly showed up
and found himself a comfortable place on her shoulder…

Neeria
 
"That is your bird? I had one at my home, too. I wonder
what happened to her,"


The Briton lifted her free hand and teased the raven on her
shoulder by tipping her index-finger against the underside of
the bird’s pecker a few times, smiling faintly as she did so.
However, when Neeria addressed her again, Neeve averted her
gaze from Dwyn and glanced at the small Woad by her side.

“Depends on the definition…”, the healer mused, “…but seeing
that he’s been following me and been with me for a long time
now, I’d say yes, he is my bird. A loyal companion…despite him
disappearing for a few days and then showing up out of nowhere
quite regularly…” A corner of Neeve’s mouth twitched
slightly…but when she noticed that was about to share rather
personal things with a prisoner…former prisoner…whatever…the
hint of a grin vanished again and she walked on towards the
tavern with Neeria in tow…

Then the building finally came into sight and Neeve silently
prayed that Vanora would indeed be there. She pushed the door
towards the tavern open and entered the familiar room...though
not without gently nudging Dwyn off her shoulder again and
watching the raven settle down on the tavern-roof. Once
inside, the healer’s blue eyes automatically scanned her
surrounding. She spotted a few familiar faces…including
Lancelot’s, which let the woman arch an eyebrow. She made a
mental note to check on the knights bruises and injuries
later…even though she already knew that he would protest. It
was her duty to care for the knights’ health…including
Lancelot’s.

Averting her gaze from the Sarmatian, Neeve felt relieved when
she finally saw Vanora’s red mane behind the bar. Lifting her
chin slightly, she glanced at Neeria. “Come on…”, she said and
nodded into the bar’s direction before approaching it…

“Vanora…”, the healer greeted the other woman, giving the man
she was talking to – Mirtha, wasn’t it? – a slight nod as she
did so, “…do you have a moment? Sorry if I’m interrupting
something…”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 1:21 pm

Arthur


As Arthur made his last minute inspections to Casti’s tack, he
attempted to bury all the personal turmoil and focus on
locating Merlin. It had been arduous to walk away from
Lancelot – battered and bruised and vulnerable as he was. But
in order for Lancelot, and all the knights, and all the
soldiers, and all the supporting staff and villagers living at
the outpost under Arthur’s command to be safe from further
attacks….Arthur had to make peace with Merlin. Period. Upon
his return, Arthur would then face private matters: becoming a
father for the first time and his complicated friendship with
Lancelot.

Amadeus
 
"Commander Castus. We are ready to ride on your command.


“Very good,” Arthur acknowledged his Optio with a nod while
proceeding to make a final check on the clasps of his sword
belt and retrieving his gloves from a side pouch on his
saddle. Scipio had at least shown his efficiency by having the
men ready and waiting for the Commander. Casti snorted and
shook his powerful head; the stallion’s hot breath turned to a
whorl of white steam as it mixed with the crisp cold air.

Amadeus
 
"It is a fine day for riding. The cold overnight will
have hardened the ground for our passage."


“Indeed,” Arthur answered Scipio amicably while pulling on his
gloves. The Commander had no reason to clip his words at the
other man simply because he had more imperative matters on his
mind than the weather or riding conditions.

Tristan
 
"Arthur - we going to the village if the camp's empty?"


“We shall follow the path from the camp to the village until
we either discover Merlin, or he discovers us,” Arthur
confirmed with a brief glance over at Tristan. Surely the
scout had known the Commander’s answer before asking it, but
Arthur wasted no time contemplating Tristan’s motives.

It was time. Arthur was as prepared as he could be. Neeria had
provided enough information that they should be able to locate
Merlin or at least follow the Woad leader’s path deep into the
wilderness north of the Wall. The Commander exhaled and
reached to loop Casti’s reins over the animal’s withers for
easy retrieval from the saddle.

Arthur reached for the top rim of his saddle and the muscles
of his abdomen tightened in anticipation of what would be an
uncomfortable motion with a freshly stitched wound beneath his
armour. But before swinging his tall frame into the saddle,
Arthur looked over his shoulder back towards the stables….and
his emerald eyes sought out Darya. Unfortunately, he had not
had time for a private word with his lover – and mother of his
child – this morning. But the dark Sarmatian appeared to be
well enough, and was that Tristan’s hawk perched on her arm?
Arthur offered only a gentle smile at Darya as the distance
between them was too great for words.

And then with one fluid motion, Arthur swung himself up into
the saddle on Casti’s broad back. His side twinged as
expected, but Arthur hid any signs of discomfort. He’d ignore
at any rate anyways. He slipped his booted toe into the other
stirrup and then at first looked to Scipio to his right.

“Gentlemen, our mission is one of peace. Nonetheless, Merlin’s
people may not be so welcoming today. Be on your guard,
however follow my lead,” Arthur spoke with authority as his
brilliantly green eyes ticked from one man to the next in the
small group accompanying him on this mission. Arthur then gave
an unspoken command with a nod of his head for the men to
mount up and ride out following his lead. His gloved fingers
then gathered the reins and his knees gently urged Casti
forward.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 1:35 pm
Mirtha


Vanora
 
"Should only be a moment then."


Vanora left and Mirtha waited patiently for her return, his
head lowered... slowly sipping his ale.

It took only a moment before she returned with food.

Vanora
 
"Here ya go. That should make ya happy...I know food
makes any man happier.... though it won't take away
those battle wounds you have."


Looking at the plate he suddenly didn't feel hungry at all. He
winced slightly at this, but started to eat either way, while
Vanora was talking. A corner of his mouth lifted slightly at
her words about food and men. Battle wounds... Mirtha grunted
silently and shook his head, not looking at Vanora. It was
nothing... He got into a fight more than once in his life. Not
the first not the last battle wounds for him.

When the topic turned more serious Mirtha looked somewhere at
the ground, motionless.

Vanora
 
"Sometimes...yes. Everyone is not perfect, Mirtha. We
all make mistakes."


Oh no! He was not perfect! Completely not perfect... But he
made too much mistakes in his life it would seem. Before he
gathered his thoughts another person came closer.

Adian
 
"I think I need a drink, Vanora."


Vanora
 
"What's up, Adian?"


It was Adian and Mirtha slowly turned to look at him... as he
was talking to Vanora. For a longer moment he stayed silent.
He knew that he needed to tell him about Ione, but still was
thinking about himself, and still was not ready to be a bearer
of bad news.

Adian
 
'Saw...a damned ghost...it...it was Thorn....'


At this Mirtha deeply frowned. A ghost? That was laugh! And in
truth his mouth was twitching already and his chest almost
rumbled out with a laugh. But when he heard whose ghost the
man saw Mirtha's face turned serious and he decided to shut
the hell up about this.

Thorn...

Ione...

The recent women in his life. Both so unlucky... Both
hurted... because of him also. This was not right.

Vanora
 
"What do you make of it?"


He casted a look upon Vanora and shook his head.

"I don't believe in ghosts... They are bullshit." he admitted
and took another sip of ale. "You are probably tired, man!"

Neeve
 
“Vanora……do you have a moment? Sorry if I’m interrupting
something…”


Then a woman came, a healer and needed something from Vanora,
so Mirtha turned slightly away from the tavern manager. And
glanced briefly over Adian, then back at his food and drink.

"Adian..." he started and cleared his throat. "Instead of
wondering and searching for the fucking ghosts you should go
to Ione..." he said straightforward. "I've seen her in the
infirmary and she wanted to see you.."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 2:34 pm
Ione


Ione continued looking out the window of the shop at the
dismal day outside, her thoughts drifting... the seemed to
settle on the two people that mattered most to her now: the
Lieutenant who was leaving on a mission, and her still born
child who was buried somewhere in the cold ground. Something
snapped her out of her reverie, and she turned her attention
back to Linnesse who had been such a comfort and help in this
moment...

Linnesse
 
"Oh, I sew, of course, but I haven't had much time for
it lately. Since I started in the infirmary I haven't
done more than mend a few things." "I've been thinking I
should make some things for Linnette's baby,
though...especially since she has so much else on her
mind." "I've never made baby things before, though-
perhaps you could show me some time?"


The weaver smiled. She did not know that Linnesse knew how to
sew. Ione realized that she'd have to start making baby items
as well, and it was not going to be a problem for her to teach
Linnesse how to make baby clothes for Linnette's little one.
"I would love to show you how to do that sometime," Ione said
quietly. "It would be an honor to teach someone else what I
know in the way of clothes making..." For a moment, Ione
thought she saw a hint of sadness pass over Linnesse's face,
and then she recalled that Linnette had lost her husband. She
made up her mind to help out Linnette as much as possible. For
a fleeting moment, Ione thought of the friends she had lost
recently: Thorn, Accolan and Gedeon... and possibly Javier.
Then her little boy had died. What would she ever do if Titrus
died? Who'd make her laugh, blush, smile, and share a good
talk with her? But he'd be with Deeta, his beloved wife then.
Solomnly, Ione reminded herself that he still needed time to
grieve for her, and she needed some time as well. It was in
times like this that she charished his friendship... having
each other to lean on when things got tough...

The young woman cast Linnesse a side glance, knowing that
there was something else she needed to talk about. 'Mirtha...
got very drunk... shortly after I arrived back at the fort...
I-I was working in the stables and was ready to leave...'
Tears formed in her eyes recalling the horrible feelings mixed
with a pleasure her body had craved despite her wanting to
control it. 'I heard a bottle drop and crash to the floor...
he-he barred my way out of the stables...' A small sob escaped
her as she continued. 'I did not know what to do, Linnesse.
Mirtha carried me...up to the loft and...and...' Ione broke
down sobbing as she finished relating what had happened.
'...he left me go after he used me...allowed me to leave...
when I dressed and went down the steps of the ladder... I
heard bottles clinking...' The weaver looked at the other
woman, distress appeared on her face, and she shuddered.
'yesterday morning.... he could not recall what... he had done
to me... but then.... he....' She paused for a moment so that
she could calm down. A memory of her past arose...

'a Roman my parents had sold me to.... he and his friends got
drunk one night... I accidently spilled some wine on one of
them... They took me outside his fort, and beat me... leaving
me half dead in the snow... Accolan saved my life by bringing
me here for protection...' Ione finished, still crying a bit,
though the memories had left her shaken. Now she'd bury them
for good as they were too painful to remember. She had no idea
why she had brought it up to Linnesse, a total stranger, but
it felt good to just talk about it and get it off of her mind.

Ione had a child to think of now.

Looking down, she saw that she still had the midnight black
cloak lying in her lap, and that her fingers were shaking as
they ran over the fabric. She had only two more sides to do,
and it'd be done...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 7:27 pm
Lancelot


The knight's eyes - bad one included - swung to the door of
the tavern as he ate slowly, taking note of Neeve entering,
towing the Woad girl with her. He finished his last bite of
stew, and chased it with the ale he'd had the bar girl top off
twice. Lancelot was a man who could hold his drink - but he
was feeling a bit of it this time, as his lack of sleep and
emotional state fought against his tolerance skills.

Lovely.

He pushed back from the table he'd been sitting at, and
approached the bar, passing by Barbattus and Catherine on the
way. He looked at the blond; she was obviously engrossed in
her current paramour and Lancelot thanked the gods for that.
He wanted - needed - to finish things with her, but not at the
moment. He readily admitted he was too far gone in many ways
to deal with her coy questions and her delicate face and
hands....

whore

He shook his head, and came up behind Neeve, who was speaking
to Vanora. He cast his gaze over Neeria briefly; the small
girl looked as bad as Lancelot did and probably felt the same.
He smiled broadly at her and hid a belch behind his hand.
Gods, but it felt good for his head to not be swimming so
badly. He was incredibly happy to not be on a horse - again -
riding out with Scipio and Tristan and

Arthur, always Arthur

to deal with Merlin. Fuck Arthur. Lancelot was more than joy
filled to be left here, in charge of the old ones and infirm
and women. He was flattered beyond recognition that Arthur
thought his talents were of better use here, at Badon, than
with the soldiers riding to forge a doomed peace treaty.

A small laugh escaped him; it sounded more like a moan.

Raising a hand, he rested his fingers on Neeve's shoulder,
knowing he was interrupting, but not really caring. He was the
First Knight. "Love, I need to know where you're taking this
one - I've got to have a place to bring Derfel," his face took
on an unpleasant cast when he mentioned the Saxon's name.
"Gods forfend I do not follow through on my orders." He cocked
his head. "Vanora," he added in greeting. "My complements to
the buxom ladies - I mean, the chef." He touched the corner of
his mouth. "First time I've been satisfied in a while."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he allowed his
eyes to slide closed quickly. Foot in mouth - his specialty.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 7:46 pm
Tristan and Quintus


Arthur
 
“We shall follow the path from the camp to the village
until we either discover Merlin, or he discovers us.
Gentlemen, our mission is one of peace. Nonetheless,
Merlin’s people may not be so welcoming today. Be on
your guard, however follow my lead.”


Tristan nodded impassively, swinging easily up on his horse in
Arthur’s wake and urging Tirgatao forward just as Casti set
off. He maneuvered his horse with almost undetectable motions
of hands and knees, steering the stallion to a position at
Arthur’s side, but hanging back a little- in deference to the
Optio’s rank, but also in practicality, as he’d probably be
called on to lead the way once they got away from the fort and
onto the paths they had taken yesterday.

As the group swept in an arc across the courtyard and towards
the main gates, hooves clattering and metal jangling
rhythmically, Tristan’s eyes traveled over to Darya- and to
his wounded hawk, perched on her arm. Arthur looked to her,
too, the scout noticed- but neither of them were close enough
to her for words to be practical. As he approached his closest
point to her, half a length behind the Commander, Tristan
raised his hand to Darya- or perhaps more to the hawk- a
small, subtle wave right in front of his chest, no higher. Few
would have seen it. But the hawk, he fancied, did, and
acknowledged her master’s passing with a squawk and a stretch
of her good wing.

“Woads won’t stand for this,” he remarked darkly to Bors and
Jols, who rode at his other side and just slightly be hind
him, out of the corner of his mouth. He had no doubt that they would contact Merlin-
especially considering the Woad woman’s information- but he
was in agreement with Arthur that their welcome was likely to
be scant. It certainly had been last night. The scout snuck a
look at the Optio, watching for any signs of fear or
apprehension about this repeat of yesterday’s mission, but if
Scipio was worried, he gave no sign- merely sat straight in
his saddle with the superior bearing he always affected.
Arthur, beside him, carried himself not nearly so
self-consciously, but with more authority- it seemed natural
to him, not something he put on. Tristan supposed that if any
Roman could negotiate with Merlin, it was probably Arthur
Castus- but he thought it was more likely that no Roman could
do so- not with the truce of the autumn already shattered in
treachery and blood.

Behind Tristan, riding alongside Titrus, Brendyn, and Karl,
Quintus eyed the whole situation stolidly, urging his own
horse forward in turn- though without either the Commander’s
or the scout’s easy grace. He didn’t ride often, and while he
could of course direct the horse reliably, it wasn’t something
that came as naturally to him as it did to some. He had to
think about it- as he had to think about Karl, too, and maybe
even Brendyn, who didn’t seem immune to taking Karl’s vicious
bait now and then. Now, he swayed a bit in the saddle as he
checked the men over his shoulder, then shifted his seat
uncomfortably as he returned to facing forward.

“Christ hope this works,” he muttered to his companions
generally as they trotted towards the gate.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 8:48 pm
Vanora and Adian


Mirtha was a strange soul indeed, though Vanora had seen him
loosen up after a few ales under his belt. She recalled a few
days ago how he had come in to the tavern and yelled at a
young woman who worked in the stables. Something was sure
eating at him, but Vanora was one just not to press the matter
so as not to irritate anyone.. least of all Mirtha. She had
seen his temper and did not want to see it again. Plus Malcus
was still in the back of the tavern, and Vanora just did not
want to see a scene here if Mirtha should blow. The stable
master remained silent...that is until Adian had come in, sat
down next to the man and asked for a drink... not like Adian
to ask for a drink, but Vanora served him up anyway. Odd, that
when she asked the young man what was up, he mumbled something
about seeing the ghost of Thorn... That would have called for
two drinks...

Vanora had been raised to believe in the supernatural and she
never mocked those who had had experiences. Mirtha, it seemed,
was quite the opposite which surprised Vanora grately. Were
not his people a superstitious lot as well? Once again she
didn't push the man.

Mirtha
 
"I don't believe in ghosts... They are bullshit." "You
are probably tired, man!" "Adian..." "Instead of
wondering and searching for the fucking ghosts you
should go to Ione..." "I've seen her in the infirmary
and she wanted to see you.."


Adian's eyes narrowed dangerously, and took another deep swig
of ale, set it down and asked for another, "No, you are
bullshit, my dear friend. I am not tired, and I have all of my
faculties... And as for searching for them, this one just
happened to find me..." He took the ale from Vanora and downed
half, then set the mug down. "And just why would Ione want to
see me at all... she has Javier to look after her... so just
mind your fuckin' business..." He was about to say more when
he heard the door to the tavern open and Adian turned his
chair to see Neeve and another woman approach the counter. His
eyes traveled from the healer to the other woman as they both
drew up to the bar...

Neeve
 
“Vanora…” “…do you have a moment? Sorry if I’m
interrupting something…”


Vanora smiled at both women as Mirtha turned to speak to
Adian... something about Ione, "No, my dear, you are not
interrupting anything at all. Mirtha, Adian and I were just
talking. What can I do for you? Can I get you any food?" She
eyed the new woman, and offered a friendly smile as was her
custom, "Welcome to my tavern, miss. I am Vanora."

Adian decided to take this time to find out who this new woman
was, so he smiled at the new woman in a warm manner, got up
from his chair and offered it to her so that she could sit
down. This new woman (Neeria) was lovely in a wild manner, her
eyes like a summer night. "Miss, you may have my chair if you
wish," He gave her a slight bow. "I am Adian, and I work as a
carpenter here at the fort."

If there was one thing he had not forgotten, it was his
manners.

Vanora was about to say more when Lancelot came to stand
behind Neeve and belched into his hand. Vanora almost had to
laugh at the First Knight as he was always flirting with her
to get Bors jealous. It made her day when Lancelot would tease
her, and maker her laugh. The red head watched as Lancelot
placed a hand on Neeve's shoulder and said...

Lancelot
 
"Love, I need to know where you're taking this one -
I've got to have a place to bring Derfel," "Gods forfend
I do not follow through on my orders." "Vanora," "My
complements to the buxom ladies - I mean, the chef."
"First time I've been satisfied in a while."


The tavern matron frowned as she had no idea what Lancelot was
chattering about, but whatever it was, he was not happy with
it. She knew Lancelot well, and just by what he said, it
sounded like he needed to either talk, or have another drink,
or just carry out his orders like a good boy.

"I am glad we could sate your appitite, Lancelot. I will be
sure to convey that to the cook when I see her..."









Brendyn

Tyranus pawed at the earth under his hooves softly while
Brendyn kept him quiet and under control. He often wondered
what , or how a mission would turn out as he had been on some
that had had less than favorable results, but he had heard
much of his new Commander and had heard that this man was good
at what he did. Thankfully, Karl had chosen to say nothing in
return, but Brendyn was on guard now. This soldier could mean
trouble for him later if he so chose and Brendyn was not about
to blow this chance to prove that he had been well trained....

Tristan
 
"Arthur - we going to the village if the camp's empty?"


Arthur
 
“We shall follow the path from the camp to the village
until we either discover Merlin, or he discovers us,”


The young soldier took in every word of what Arthur had said
as it was useful information. He had heard legends about this
Merlin fellow and wondered if they were true...That he was a
scorcerer, or whatever. He had also heard that the woad leader
was a great leader, and was well known for his battles. On the
other hand, Brendyn had been welcomed to an attack by Merlin's
woads as Arthur, his troops and his knights had approached the
fort. He watched with anticipation as the Commander mounted
the wonderous white stallion. Where Tyranus was coal black,
this horse had not color except for a very light hint of
gray....

Arthur
 
“Gentlemen, our mission is one of peace. Nonetheless,
Merlin’s people may not be so welcoming today. Be on
your guard, however follow my lead,”


Brendyn nodded in acknowledgement at what the Commander spoke.
The young soldier took up some slack on his horse's reins,
and, following behind Titrus, Brendyn gently urged Tyranus
forward. As a Lancearii, he had been trained to ride and throw lances and spears during a
battle, and in his off time, he just plain liked to ride. Once
they were clear of the stables, Brendyn gave a signal with his
reins and Tyranus picked up the pace a bit, his black mane and
tail showing like banners in the wind, his head held high and
proud. Arab breeds were known for their speed and agility as
well as their grace, so Brendyn controlled how fast he was
going and paced Tyranus with Titrus's horse making sure to
keep a certain space behind him. Up ahead, he saw the gates
approaching. Brendyn steered Tyranus toward the main gates,
the horse wanting to surge foreward while Brendyn kept the
reins firm but gentle. They had been through a lot and
understood each other well.

For a moment, Quintus had turned as if checking on Brendyn and
Karl, but then had turned back around. For a moment, he
thought he had heard Quintus say something, but could not make
out what it was he said...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 11:23 am
Eyla


Eyla preferred the sullen self-pitying types. She found an odd
charm in rude words and haughtiness. These men were more
demanding in the bedroom, harder to please, but definitely
worth the effort. She liked to kiss their tight lips, seduce
their mouths open with her sweetened tongue. Was this why she
pursued Arthur? Perhaps. His plight for righteousness and
conscience was endearing, but not because she wanted a
relationship. No. Gods no, the thought of long-term commitment
would end in disaster for Eyla...but she enjoyed the chase.
She thrived on sexual tension, the thrill of pursuit. Arthur
did not try her patience; he was a delight to entertain. She
would have him one day, and it would be sweet, sweet and hard.
She would sate her body with his, and the Christian would rue
the day he rejected her. Indeed, it was worth the wait. But
for Galahad? She did not know him well enough, not yet. Eyla
however, was an excellent judge of character, and she looked
to his grumpy face. She saw youthful handsomeness poisoned by
the weight of duty and memories. Oh, she was not here to talk
to him, nor to discover his aspirations...Eyla merely wanted
him to get off his horse and confront her. Now. It would be
sweet argument, no? There was something gorgeous about an
angry man, something that caused her eyes to brighten with
resilience...

The mounted Knight walked beside her, and she sensed his
discomfort. Was he not familiar with women then? Or did he
prefer boys? Eyla’s lips lifted into a mischievous smirk, and
she raked a thin hand through her hair, tussling it, curling
it about her shoulders...

Galahad
 
”Arthur! And you? Actually forget it, I don't want to
know. That's his business.”


The young knight pointed a finger at her, and Eyla lifted her
chin proudly. A look of unadultered pride and arrogance
crossed her expression; it lit a fire in her eyes. Men were
men, no matter what rank. People like Eyla lived by other
men’s pleasures, and they did it well. Indeed, she had heard
rumours of pure men...but they were lies. Chastity was boring,
and sex was exciting. It was also a fantastic vent for
emotions, something which Galahad clearly needed. He was
moody, dark, and Eyla would happily kiss that frown from his
forehead. She lifted a hand to Galahad’s horse, and seeped her
fingers into its coat, caressing it slowly for a moment.
Galahad kicked the horse into a faster pace, and Eyla let go.
She stopped in her tracks, and watched him ride ahead. Her
eyes followed him slowly, and she batted her eyelashes. Oh,
but she was sultry...her long skirts brushed against the
ground softly, and her hair curled messily into the swell of
her bosom.

She parted her lips to speak, but stopped when she heard
someone enter the arena. Eyla did not turn to look, but rather
smiled to herself. Her lips were rouged pink today, and
appeared bright against her golden skin. She paid no attention
to the servant girl or Gawain...until he spoke...

Gawain
 
"Galahad, there you are. I've been looking everywhere
for you. Aren't you a little bit overdressed for the
arena, lady? You'll get your pretty dress all dirty."


Galahad
 
"Careful Gawain. You'll offend her and she'll have to
bombard you with cheery chatter as retaliation."


Gawain
 
”Thanks for the warning, Galahad, but I'll be fine.
"Lady, if you've never been around a horse before, I'd
not get too close lest you make the animal nervous and a
nervous horse is quite a very unpredictable one, at
best."


Unpredictable? Oh, they had no idea...

“Unpredictable and nervous hmm? Are we referring to Galahad or
his wayward mount?” Eyla asked, spinning the words like honey.
She arched a sharp eyebrow at Gawain, and an amused smile
danced across her lips. She laughed, cheerfully, and happily
ignored his ridiculous warning. A horse was a frightening
beast to a child, but Eyla? She had ridden before. Indeed,
she’d got up to delightfully naughty things on horseback...and
the memory stirred her eyes mischievously. With a soft swish
of her skirts, she turned to look at Galahad, whilst talking
to his comrade. “He rides very well, do you not think?” She
paused, feigning a frown and accidently stepped closer to
Gawain. She rested a hand upon the knight’s shoulder, but did
not look at him. No, she continued to smile at Galahad. It was
almost an invitation. She spoke again. “I do wonder. The most
frightening thing about Galahad is that angry frown of his. If
I were to meet him in battle, I would surely flee for my
life...”

Eyla held onto Gawain, and leant back. Her dark hair curled
down her spine, kissing her skin, and she blew Galahad a kiss
playfully.

“Why don’t you come down, Galahad?” She cooed. “You are so
very far away...”

Eyla looked to the younger knight, her dark eyes glittering
with intent. She pouted her lips petulantly, before laughing
softly. The woman’s voice was like silk, alluring, soft,
welcoming, and she arched her back flirtatiously. Her bosoms
pressed against her bodice...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 4:59 pm
Linnesse


Ione
 
"I would love to show you how to do that sometime. It
would be an honor to teach someone else what I know in
the way of clothes making...Mirtha...got very
drunk...shortly after I arrived back at the fort... I- I
was working in the stables and was ready to leave...I
heard a bottle drop and crash to the floor...he- he
barred my way out of the stables...I did not know what
to do, Linnesse. Mirtha carried me...up to the loft
and...and...he left me go after he used me...allowed me
to leave...when I dressed and went down the steps of the
ladder...I heard bottles clinking...yesterday
morning...he could not recall what...he had done to
me...but then...he...a Roman my parents had sold me
to...he and his friends got drunk one night...I
accidentally spilled some wine on one of them...they
took me outside his fort, and beat me...leaving me half
dead in the snow...Accolan saved my life by bringing me
here for protection...”


Linnesse had smiled and nodded in pleased agreement as Ione
expressed willingness to help her with some baby clothes, a
brief vision of the two of them sitting down and sewing
together, perhaps here in the shop, crossing her mind- but
then as Ione continued to talk, Linnesse's face fell, and she
slowly eased herself into the other chair, opposite Ione's,
watching the other woman's face with concern. It was a rather
confused tale, broken by tears and then, as she continued, by
increasing sobs; she seemed to be talking about Mirtha, but
then as she went on, about another man, too, one from the more
distant past. Linnesse shook her head slowly, not quite
understanding everything, but wanting to help.

"So Mirtha..." Raped her? Didn't rape her? The only access to
the stables' loft was a ladder, if Linnesse remembered right-
admittedly, she was not very familiar with the place, but Ione
had mentioned a ladder too- so it seemed unlikely that Mirtha
had gotten her up it, if Ione had been resisting. Or had she
simply been too frightened not to comply? And what did
Mirtha's presence at Ione's side this morning indicate? He had
sat there like a concerned relative- until he had stormed out
in something like anger to get Adian, who, whether because
Mirtha hadn't, in fact, fetched him or for other reasons,
never had shown up.

"I don't think I understand," Linnesse admitted, shaking her
head in confusion and leaning forward in the chair, her elbows
on her knees, peering into Ione's tearstained face. In
reality, she did understand something- a bit more than she
really cared to contemplate or would mention. Ione wasn't the
kind of woman who stuck to just one man- and that was no doubt
compounding, if not causing, her problems right now.

"Do you think we should go to the guards about him?" the
blonde healer asked tentatively. It wouldn't be the first time
Linnesse had reported a crime in the course of her official
infirmary duties- the fiasco with the black man, Sekani, being
the first. It did occur to her, also, that according to
Linnette, there had been a rape in the fort during the time
that Linnesse had lain sick, and the perpetrator had never
been caught. Granted, the incident Ione was describing and the
one Linnette had described didn't sound very similar...but
still.

Linnesse shifted uncomfortably on the chair, and then,
spotting a handkerchief among a jumble of sewing things on the
nearby table, picked it up and held it out to Ione, so that
she could dry her eyes while she considered her answer.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 5:38 pm
Neeria


Neeria sneezed again and struggled to pull up her trousers.
She was still staring at Neeve's bird, admiring the beautiful
species, still wondering where the healer had acquired such a
magnificent pet.

Neeve
 
“Depends on the definition…but seeing that he’s been
following me and been with me for a long time now, I’d
say yes, he is my bird. A loyal companion…despite him
disappearing for a few days and then showing up out of
nowhere quite regularly…”


Neeria smiled at how tame the bird was and wanted to ask
another question, but Neeve, apparently not willing to further
the conversation, hastened her step again.

Neeve
 
“Come on…”


Neeria groaned. She was tired of all of this. She was starving
and thirsty and she desperately wanted to wash her body. Her
ribcage was in a duel with her empty stomach, both banging
violently against each other. Suddenly, Neeve stopped in front
of one of the buildings and pulled the big, heavy door. As
soon as the door opened, the smell of food hit Neeria's
nostrils and she immediately got dizzy. The room spun and she
almost tripped over her long pants.

"I smell food and I'm so hungry," she said softly to Neeve,
not sure if the healer heard her or not. Even if she did,
would get Neeria anything to eat? Mixed with the smells of
good eats was also the very distinguishable smell of stale ale
and wine and body odor. Even though it was not common among
her people, Neeria had tasted ale before and knew its smell.

Neeria followed the dark-haired woman to the bar. A woman was
there, working behind the bar and Neeve called out to her.

Neeve
 
“Vanora…do you have a moment? Sorry if I’m interrupting
something…”


Vanora. Neeve called the woman, Vanora. Neeria observed.

Before Vanora could answer, Neeria sensed someone approach
from the side. The small woad jerked her head around and much
to her surprise, it was the dark one. He was a shock. The
knight's dark curls were strewn about his head and his eye -
half closed it appeared - was an astonishing color of purple.
Neeria looked at him who appeared no better off that she. The
knight was dirty and...haggard-looking.

Lancelot
 
"Love, I need to know where you're taking this one -
I've got to have a place to bring Derfel. Gods forfend I
do not follow through on my orders. Vanora, my
complements to the buxom ladies - I mean, the chef.
First time I've been satisfied in a while."


Neeria looked at the knight, wide-eyed with amusement.

"What has happened to you, dark one?" Neeria asked snidely.
"Some may think we've spent the night together in the way we
resemble each other." she smiled at Lancelot.

Vanora
 
"Welcome to my tavern, miss. I am Vanora."


Neeria looked down at the floor quickly, nervous from the
sudden attention. The woad sneezed and looked back up at
Vanora.

"I am called Neeria," she said softly.

A young man sitting at the bar, suddenly got up, startling
Neeria. As he spoke, a rich, masculine voice, the man bowed
slightly.

Adian
 
"Miss, you may have my chair if you wish, I am Adian,
and I work as a carpenter here at the fort."


The man offered Neeria his chair. The woad didn't know what to
say or what to do so she just stared at the man with wide
eyes.

What was this place and who were these people? What would they
think of her?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 8:18 pm
Gawain


Eyla
 
“Unpredictable and nervous hmm? Are we referring to
Galahad or his wayward mount?” . “He rides very well, do
you not think?” “I do wonder. The most frightening thing
about Galahad is that angry frown of his. If I were to
meet him in battle, I would surely flee for my life...”


"Both, actually. Yes, my little brother definetly rides quite
well. He's very good with horses. That would be a very good
plan, to indeed have in mind, lady." Gawain replied to her
feeling the warmth of her hand seep through the fabric on his
shoulder of his tunic.

Glancing curiously over at her, he wondered just why she was
here bothering Galahad right now. Didn't she have anything
better to do with her time than hang around an indoor arena
for exercising horses? Hearing her soft laugh and feeling her
grip tighten on his shoulder as she leaned back made Gawain
shiver slightly, unconsciously in response to it.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 8:24 pm
Titrus and Karl


Arthur was talking but Karl wasn't listening. He couldn't give
a shit. He was just glad to be getting from behind that
stinking wall for a few days. Maybe he'd get to kill a few
woads for his trouble. He wasn't too thrilled about the
company he was keeping but as long as they left him alone,
he'd be alright. The captain wasn't coming so as long as Karl
stayed to himself, he didn't anticipate any problems. As long
as Quintus and Titrus minded their business.

As Arthur led them, the men rode to the north gate. Karl
smiled to himself as the cold air filled his lungs. Brutus
snorted beneath him as the horse began to warm up. The scout
was up front behind Arthur and the optio. Good thing for him
Karl thought to himself. Just in front of Karl rode Bors and
Jols followed by Titrus, Brendyn and Quintus. Karl purposely
stayed slightly behind the others. He laughed when he saw
Quintus shift uncomfortably in his saddle. Keeping his voice
just above a whisper, he spoke up to the Centurion.

"Having trouble Quint?" Karl snickered. "You're ridin' like a
woman, HA!" the Roman cracked himself up. "Maybe you and the
young pup should ride together. I'm sure he'll catch you
should you fall," he said, shooting a snide look at Brendyn,
blowing him a kiss. Karl laughed again then squeezed his
knees, urging Brutus to nose further up the line, with an
innocent look on his face.

"Just ignore him, Quintus," Titrus said out of the corner of
his mouth. "We'll deal with him when we get a chance. Jesus,
what was the captain thinking? We haven't even left yet and
he's being a dick. Brendyn," he said leaning forward, looking
past Quintus, "just ignore him. That's an order," the
lieutenant added.

Titrus knew that Karl was pushing Brendyn's buttons. Titrus
would be sure to let the captain know how disciplined Brendyn
was upon their return. The lieutenant shuddered at the thought
of their return and when their punishment would begin.

"Let's do something heroic so we'll get a pardon," Titrus said
to Quintus and laughed.
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