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| November 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,055 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | May 19 2010, 02:08 AM Post #46 |
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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.
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 | May 19 2010, 02:09 AM Post #47 |
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Author: sabor ice Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 6:04 am Kayley
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 | May 19 2010, 02:10 AM Post #48 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 8:07 am Linnesse
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 | May 19 2010, 02:11 AM Post #49 |
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Author: Darya Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 10:18 am Neeve
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…
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 | May 19 2010, 02:13 AM Post #50 |
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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.
“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.
“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.
“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 | May 19 2010, 02:15 AM Post #51 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 1:35 pm Mirtha
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!"
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 | May 19 2010, 02:16 AM Post #52 |
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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...
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 | May 19 2010, 02:17 AM Post #53 |
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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 | May 19 2010, 02:19 AM Post #54 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Nov 05, 2008 7:46 pm Tristan and Quintus
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 | May 19 2010, 02:22 AM Post #55 |
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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.
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...
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...
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....
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....
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 | May 19 2010, 02:24 AM Post #56 |
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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...
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...
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 | May 19 2010, 02:25 AM Post #57 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 4:59 pm Linnesse
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 | May 19 2010, 02:27 AM Post #58 |
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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 | May 19 2010, 02:28 AM Post #59 |
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Author: Starbelle Date: Thu Nov 06, 2008 8:18 pm Gawain
"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 | May 19 2010, 02:29 AM Post #60 |
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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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