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November 2008
Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,053 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Nov 09, 2008 10:06 pm
Ione


Linnesse
 
"All right."


Ione's eyes turned from the healer who had busied herself with
making the tea to the cold gray day outside. So much had
happened in what seemed like a short amount of time, that it
all seemed to her to be a bad dream. One part of that dream
stayed with her in her thoughts, though...the sweet gentle
feel of an unexpected kiss... the feel of fingers brushing her
hair from her face. Her eyes turned back to Linnesse after the
thought of going for a walk passed over her lips. It had been
a long time since she had seen Titrus's daughters, so a nice
visit would lift her spirits. Later, she would go to find
Ian's grave. Sister Margaret knew, so Ione thought that
perhaps the nun would come with her. There was a look of
concern on Linnesse's face though concerning the walk, but
Ione felt that she just needed to walk and get some
exercise... after all, was that not part of keeping healthy
while pregnant? Ione wanted so bady to ask Linnesse to walk
with her as their destinations were in the same area pretty
much...

Linnesse
 
"As long as it's not far..."


As Ione came to stand next to Linnesse, and had told her of
her intent to repay she and the nun for what they had done,
The healer turned to her and shook her head, briefly placing a
hand on Ione's arm. She could smell the black haw that
Linnesse had placed in the hot water to steep, and sort of
made a face. Even as a child, she had hated taking medicines..
some of the herbs were bitter and had aweful tastes to them.
This was a necessary herb though that she had to take if she
wanted to keep the child, so Ione tried to think of ways to
cover the taste... honey, berry syrup, a sweet roll? The smell
of black haw was just nasty... at least Ione thought so.

Linnesse
 
"Truly, Ione, no repayment is necessary." "Helping you
was only the right thing to do, and surely Sister looks
on it as that, too. I just hope it goes well for
you...for the rest of it." "If you've got honey, it's
fine to sweeten it," "From the smell of it, it doesn't
taste the best,"


"I hope it goes well for the rest of the time as well... I
have wanted a child for so long... " Ione gave Linnesse a warm
smile. The smile disappeared when Linnesse ladled some of the
black haw brew into a mug and handed it to Ione. Honey would
have been great, but she had none, so Ione decided to drink
the brew without the sweeteners. Cautiously, the weaver took a
sip of the hot brew and wrinkled her nose, then laughed with
the healer.

The stuff was just bad and Ione wished that there was another
herb that would work, but this was the only one known to do
the job. "I am afraid I don't have any sweeteners, or anything
to mask the taste of it," Ione laughed again, and blew a bit
on it then took another sip. While she sipped on the brew,
Ione's eyes fell on a stack of blankets in one corner of the
shop. these were the blankets she made for the infirmary every
year as they went through blankets quite fast... and most had
worn out. The weaver looked at Linnesse as she pointed to
them, "I make blankets for the infirmary every year about this
time as they seem to go through them quite fast, and most are
worn out, so I try to replace them,'' Ione smiled. "It is a
charity I do every year... so could you let someone know in
the infirmary that the blankets are ready, and that they can
come by and pick them up?" It made her feel good doing
something for those in need, and those in the infirmary had
done so much for her since she had been a Badon Hill that she
had begun to do this for them...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 8:08 am
Linnesse


Ione
 
"I hope it goes well for the rest of the time as
well...I have wanted a child for so long...I am afraid I
don't have any sweeteners, or anything to mask the taste
of it. I make blankets for the infirmary every year
about this time as they seem to go through them quite
fast, and most are worn out, so I try to replace them.
It is a charity I do every year...so could you let
someone know in the infirmary that the blankets are
ready, and that they can come by and pick them up?"


"Of course- that's very generous of you," Linnesse remarked,
eying the stack of blankets Ione was indicating with some
surprise and, well...a bit of awe. That was a lot of blankets-
and she made that many every year, for free? And she had just
given that very valuable dress to Linnesse last
night...Linnesse shook her head in amazement, and hoped that
Ione's customers paid her well for her work. Well, they must,
if Ione could afford to give all of this away.

"I'll send someone as soon as I get back from seeing Derfel-
and I'll have them bring you some honey, too, for the tea."
Linnesse nodded toward the bitter cup that Ione was dutifully
sipping at, thinking that surely that was the least they could
do, given the weaver's great generosity.

"Take care, Ione- and get your rest," Linnesse urged her. She
took a step towards the weaver and enfolded her in a quick
hug- carefully avoiding the hot mug of tea- and then stepped
back with an encouraging smile.

"I'll come by and see you again, soon," she added by way of
parting, before she turned, adjusted her cloak around her, and
went out of the shop into the chilly winter afternoon.

It was a strange situation, the whole thing with Ione, and
Linnesse turned it over in her mind as she walked to the
knights' quarters. The weaver gave and gave, like a gracious
lady of the manor- yet she didn't even know who had fathered
her children. Of course, when one thought about it, those
traits had nothing to do with each other- but Linnesse
wouldn't ever have associated them, placed them side by side
in her mind. It seemed incongruous to her- would not a woman
who had been used and set aside by several men (or even set
them aside herself) be a desperate creature, more to be pitied
and helped than the reverse? Linnesse would have thought so-
but Ione didn't seem to fall into that category at all. It was
just...odd. Well, at the very least, Linnesse could ensure
that Ione had some honey for her tea, and perhaps some time
later, they could sit down and sew together- work on baby
things, as they had said. Linnesse thought perhaps she'd make
them without telling Linnette- give them to her as a surprise
when she was nearer to her time. That might gladden her heart-
maybe break through the sadness that always surrounded her
these days, if only for a little bit.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 9:06 am
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus' lust was growing stronger. Looking at Catherine and
her delicate features - her lips, her eyes, her beautiful long
neck and soft hair - made it more difficult for Barbattus to
maintain his cool. The beast within him wanted to roar. He
wanted to take her, have his way with her.

The captain saw movement out of the corner of his eye. For a
brief moment, he took his gaze off Catherine and noticed the
First Knight at the bar. Malcus also saw Neeve and the woad.

"Hmpf!" he snorted and took another sip of the warm tea,
turning his full attention back to the blond beauty sitting
next to him. He was surprised to see the woman staring at him
with a mischievious look in her soft green eyes and upon her
delicate lips. When she spoke, her voice was husky. Was that
need Malcus heard coming from her?

Catherine
 
Hmm... I think I will."


Malcus smiled wickedly as the blond leaned close to him. She
smelled divine - soft, delicate, feminine. He felt her breath,
subtle and sweet, on his lips. Barbattus' groin tightened
again and his cock strained against the fabric of his
breeches. Catherine touched her lips to Malcus' and lapped at
his bottom lip, catching the drop of honey tea that was
dangling there. Malcus groaned with pleasure. Oh, he liked
her. He liked her a lot! She backed away from him, but stayed
close enough for Malcus to still smell her. He inhaled deeply
and closed his eyes, picturing her beneath him. When he opened
his eyes again, she spoke softly, her voice still husky.
Malcus watched the swell of her breasts rise and fall as she
breathed, the soft mounds of flesh moving in rhythm. He wanted
to place his hot tongue between her cleavage. Suddenly, she
spoke, breaking his lustful thoughts.

Catherine
 
"Better than I thought it would be."


"Ay, but my lady," the captain said, regaining his composure -
almost, "We've only just begun. There are many things I can
offer you that will be better that you could possibly
imagine."

Malcus smiled again wickedly and took her hand.

"But enough of that here, hmmm? Why don't we go somewhere
that's quieter where we can talk and ..." the captain moved
his face closer to Catherine's and gave her a soft kiss on the
lips, "get ...uh, comfortable...and get to know each other
better? What does the lady say to that?" he asked, anxiously
waiting for her answer so they could get out of there and get
down to business.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 11:02 am
Neeve


Neeve inwardly rolled her eyes at Lancelot and Neeria
continuing to bicker at one another but she didn’t pay too
much attention to their words for her focus was on Vanora.
However, the healer wondered how the Woad would hold up
against a really upset Lancelot. Now with Arthur gone on the
mission, there was literally no one at the fortress who would
step up for the girl. And Neeve had no doubt that the
Sarmatian wouldn’t hesitate to kill Neeria if provoked enough.
Just too bad that she would probably be forced to at least try
to stop the knight…after all, Arthur had placed the Woad into
her care. The Briton hmpf-ed quietly and then gave Vanora a
nod when the redhead sent a wench to get the food for Neeria.

Good. First task fulfilled.

But then…

Vanora
 
"hmmm.... Not sure. Sometimes people leave clothes
behind here in the tavern and never come back to claim
them, or....you know, Ione, or one of the other fort
weavers....sometimes they have orders that were never
claimed. I know Ione likes to give such clothes to
people who need them... plus there are two or three
other weavers who make clothes as well. Might try one of
them..."


Not what she had wanted to hear. Neeve gave the other woman a
wry, slightly hagridden smile. No, the healer was not too
happy about Vanora’s reply. “I see…and...you don't happen to
have some of those abandoned clothes here, do you?”, the
raven-haired mused and brushed a hand over her pale face,
“…thanks anyway, Vanora…”

Then the wench brought the ordered food and Neeve nodded her
thanks at the woman before shoving the bowl and the plate with
the bread a bit over…for Neeria to see it. Maybe this would
stop the bitching between the Woad and the First Knight for
now. The healer turned her piercing gaze to the Woad. “Eat
now, will you? Before others do it…”, she said dryly and
pointed at the admittedly good smelling stew…

Lancelot
 
"You take care of your charge, Neeve. I will find the
Saxon, and then find you. How's that? An acceptable
compromise, lady? And aren't you the one who gave me and
my brothers a generous soaking yesterday? Why should I
allow you to tend to me now? Shouldn't I fear your
formidable retribution?"


The Briton finally turned around completely to face the First
Knight, who seemed to be in his famous teasing flirt-mode all
for sudden. Neeve tilted her head a little and put a hand on
her hip as she regarded the Sarmatian. Old charmer, she
thought and tried hard to keep her face expression neutral and
cool. Yes, he was handsome…and he knew how to play. That was
part of his nature. He had been good at that as a teenager
already. Yet his charm didn’t really work on her.

…okay, it did work on her…sort of. Sometimes.

Damn him.

But there was no way on earth she would ever admit that. Not
in a lifetime.

Sighing dramatically, the healer pursed her lips and briefly
batted her eyelashes at Lancelot. “Very well…”, she then said
in a rather deep voice and met the Sarmatian’s gaze directly,
“…but better make sure to not get lost on your way to finding
me…” Neeve smirked at the man before her as he continued to
speak, this time honestly amused by his words. “Oh, you guys
only got what you deserved, don’t you think, Sir Knight?”, she
teased, quirking an eyebrow as she did so, “…and the way
you’re looking right now, I’m very tempted to find another
bucket of water. Just for you…” Neeve deliberately emphasized
the last words a little and leaned a bit towards the knight.
“And the…retribution, as you have put it so nicely…certainly
depends on your behavior…”, the healer added, “…unless of
course you want me to send one of the Roman nuns after you in
my stead…”

With that, the Briton gave Lancelot one of those half-serious
challenging looks that they exchanged quite regularly. It had
been this way all those years ago…and – as Neeve just realized
– had not changed since then…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 3:53 pm

Arthur


Arthur had not led the small party but only a few yards from
the stables when he heard the men already bantering amongst
themselves behind his back. Arthur’s jaw clenched as he had no
patience for that sort of behavior – especially today. His
green eyes intensified and gloved fingers of his right hand
gripped tightly at the reins as the main gate came into view
up ahead. The Commander had had complete faith in Malcus’
chosen men that would accompany him on this mission; not even
so much as flinching at the sight of a known instigator
present among the group. To his chagrin, Arthur did not always
remember all the soldier's names, but this one - Pretorius, he
thought - stuck out as his 'exploits' around Badon were
somewhat infamous. But this was no ordinary ride – no standard
patrol or even a well planned undertaking of a rescue that
Arthur might typically embark on where the behavior of his
knights and soldiers would not hold any sway on the outcome.
No, this was different.

THIS mission was of far more importance – the safety of the
entire population of the outpost lay in the balance. And each
man that accompanied Arthur today must be relied upon to carry
themselves with utmost diplomacy and reserve. And thus if any
one man among them could not ride even two yards in quiet…..

Arthur had set his jaw; mind made up and was just about to
bring Casti ‘round to halt the riders when Amadeus’ voice
interrupted his thought process….with another attempt at
pleasantries. The Commander knew that he could not fault
Scipio - the other man had no insight into Arthur’s methods of
command or his current state of mind….thus as the Commander’s
green eyes flickered to the Optio’s amicable expression, he
met the other man’s gaze with as much neutrality as he could
gather.

Amadeus
 
"I have confidence that this will progress much better
than it did yesterday. You command great respect from
our men, Commander."


Arthur had completely missed – or had chosen to overlook –
Amadeus’ possessive reference to the men. They were Arthur’s
men. But that was a point to be reconciled at another time.

“It is by God’s grace that I should earn and receive such
respect from those in my charge.” Arthur answered with
conviction as his chin slightly dipped in an almost humble
conduct as he spoke. But that calmness was a fleeting thing as
anger still commanded Arthur’s inner thoughts as he turned
away from the Optio and wheeled his great white war horse
around. He then immediately lifted his left hand to halt the
small group. His side had twinged in the motion, but Arthur
ignored the damn injury. He had no time for his own selfish
pain(s).

“I will not tolerate insubordination,” Arthur began with a
firm tone; eyebrows drawn together in his annoyance at the
behaviour of the men: Karl for speaking out of turn to a
superior and Titrus for allowing it. Arthur would have a word
with Malcus upon his return...if he should return. This
behavior was not tolerated among the soldiers in Rome’s vast
army for a reason. And while Arthur held a reputation for his
leniencies….personalities such as Karl’s were dangerous and
must be properly controlled.

“Legionary Pretorius, you will not speak to a superior officer
in such a manner again,” Green eyes sought the solder’s pale
expression and locked on to the other man’s eyes. Was the man
truly that unintelligent as to risk his own execution by
insulting a centurion in the presence of their commanding
officer? Impatience with the situation flared up within Arthur
and he pushed forward with his decision to cut his losses with
this one. Karl’s demeanor would certainly threaten a mission
of peace and thus Arthur refused to take that risk. Period.

“You will remain here at the fortress as punishment and I
shall have a strong word with your Captain when I return…and
pray that I do not punish you further for your insubordination
upon my return – perhaps time spent in the stocks to allow
reflection upon your behavior should I hear of any further
misconduct. Is that clear?” Arthur stated in a voice that
could shear hard leather and a commanding stare with fiercely
green eyes that brooked no argument as well. His steely
expression was very much that of a ‘Roman Commander’ as he
awaited Karl’s obedience to his order. But he only briefly
waited as Arthur still felt a pressing need to ride out…and
thus he turned Casti back towards the gate and urged the great
white stallion forward without so much as a backward glance at
the men.

The soldiers at the gate had already labored in opening the
massive wooden doors as Arthur approached. He gave a brusque
nod at the Roman officer overseeing the gate as he passed
under the archway with Scipio and the rest of his men in tow.
Arthur turned them west along the outer road knowing the
direction they should take first….he would call upon Tristan
to lead the way to the camp once they had reached the first
mile post from the gate. But for now, the Commander was
content to lead.

The sky was a mix of bleak clouds and an accusing sun…the air
cold and crisp and it bit at Arthur’s exposed skin as they
rode. His chest ached and his cheeks flushed against the icy
wind. His head throbbed and they had a very long day ahead of
them yet….and if it be God’s will; they would survive to see
the walls of the fortress again.

“Tell me about your familial home, Amadeus. What will you
return to once you have fulfilled your duties to the Empire?”
Arthur asked with a small and genuine smile over at his Optio.
If Scipio wished for pleasantries, Arthur would accommodate
the other man…for now. And that interaction would keep
Arthur’s mind from focusing far too much on what had
transpired between himself and Lancelot this morning – both
spoken and unspoken. And a child….God help him…an innocent
child.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 6:09 pm
Jols


Seeing the Commander halt the little group, he pulled back on
Gypsi's reins to follow the unspoken command to stop. He heard
the firm order that Arthur gave to the trouble maker and was
quite glad that he, himself, had not been singled out in that
manner.

Being very careful not to glance over at Karl, even by the
briefest of glances lest he risk the wrath of the Roman
soldier, Jols lowered one hand and patted his mount's neck
then gently tapped his bootheels into Gypsi's sides to get
moving again when he noticed the rest of the group doing so.

That should help Titrus and Brendyn breathe quite a little bit
easier with him being dismissed from our group. I had a
feeling that the Commander wouldn't stand for his nonsense. He
thought









Tayala

After finishing walking the gray mare, she took her out of the
arena and back to her stall where the young stable-girl
removed the halter with the blinders and looping it up her arm
to rest on her shoulder, she brushed and curried the mare's
coat and tail out until both shone and were knot as well as
snarl free then closed the half door of the stall, hearing the
door lock click as it slid home. "There we go, Beauty. All
taken care of." She said happily leaving a sugar cube as a
treat for her.

Walking over to the wall, she hung it up on the peg from which
she removed it from then got down to the rest of her duties,
she did see the brushes on the floor of an empty stall and
picking them up, put them away safely.

Occasionally chatting with another stable hand that she'd come
across as she was friendly and could use all the friends that
she could get.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 9:01 pm
Ione


The blankets , though many, had been accumulating since the
beginning of the Spring which was always the time Ione started
them. Not many needed blankets during the Spring and Summer,
but then Autumn and Winter would approach, and that was when
they were needed most. Even though there were times when she
had been used, and abused, Ione always felt that that would
never stop her from doing something nice for others. Yes, she
could have gone about the fort with a bitter attitude, but
would that have really gotten rid of those bad memories? Being
bitter and resentful because of what or how others treated
you.... Ione could only imagine how much more miserable her
life would become then: people scowling at you, avoiding you,
and basically living in solitude and anger.

But there was so much more to live for: Friends, the beauty of
nature, hope and peace, a good laugh....

Linnesse
 
"Of course- that's very generous of you," "I'll send
someone as soon as I get back from seeing Derfel- and
I'll have them bring you some honey, too, for the tea."


Ione snapped out of her thoughts as Linnesse spoke, and she
took a good drink of the brew, "Thank you Linnesse, and thank
you in advance for the honey." There was a pause as she took
another sip. "You know.... I could sell them all, and make a
great profit from them, but there are some here at the fort
who cannot afford such items. And the infirmary and the chapel
can always use them..." She smiled at the healer as Linnesse
stepped forward and gave Ione a quick but warm hug. Even
though it was short, the hug meant so much.

Linnesse
 
"Take care, Ione- and get your rest," "I'll come by and
see you again, soon,"


Ione watched as Linnesse moved to put on her cloak, "I will
only be gone a short time, and then I will rest." The
statement was an honest one. Ione did not want to lose her
remaining child.

She waved to the healer as she disappeared out the door
closing it behind her, and suddenly all was quiet except for
the distant murmurs of people out and about the fort. Sipping
the rest of the tea, Ione set the mug down and went to the window to watch
Linnesse's departure.

What had just happened? Had it all been a bad dream... losing
Ian?

For a moment, in the brief quiet of the shop, Ione reflected
on everything that had happened. It would have been a dream
except for the dull pains that made her body ache from all of
the strain of pushing and tensing. Had it also been a dream then,
that she had been sweetly kissed and comforted in this time by
one of the most gentle friends she had ever known? Ione
blinked as the thoughts departed, and she made her way to the
peg by the door where her cloak hung. Opening the door, Ione
stepped outside slowly, and closed and locked the door behind
her... there'd be no business today in light of Ian's death
and her grief. Cautiously, Ione made her way toward where she
had delivered clothes to Titrus's family in the past. It was a
good walk for her, though she much did not feel like talking
right now.

In a little while, Ione arrived safely at the home of Titrus
and his daughters. Knocking on the door, she was greeted by
one of the daughters with a smile, and was welcomed inside,
and over to a warm fire...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 9:08 pm
Lancelot


The brow over Lancelot's injured eye rose several inches as
the Woad girl - tiny thing...deceptively so, really...he could
probably break her over his knee easily - tried to snipe back
at him.

Neeria
 
"Perhaps you are right, Sarmatian, the surroundings have
warmed me so that I was confused. You are still the same
darkness that I remember in the dungeons. And no
worries, sir, I shan't be trying to escape any time
soon. It would seem as though you're stuck with me at
least until I heal."


He opened his mouth to retort, but his gaze followed her small
hand as it scratched visciously at her dirty head. A bitter,
amused laugh echoed from his gut, and he moved away from her a
bit...although never turning his back on her.

Never turn your back on an enemy.

And never do disservice to a true friend.

Lancelot's father had taught him a few things in the short
time the Sarmatian had been with his family.

"I am not stuck with anything, save your presence in this
fort," he answered, his dark smile drifting to an expression
he didn't allow to cross his face much. It showed too many
things - and Lancelot did not want this girl knowing anything
about him.

Even if it was only that he had a demon inside - oh, so close
to the surface, and by the gods but it was hungry - that even
Arthur could not tame.

"You have an appointed guardian, and I am off to fetch him.
Try not to pass your - vermin guests on to anyone else,
princess," he added, his tone shifting to flat and dry,
mirroring his face now. That monster he shoved away for others
to deal with - not this girl. Not unless she did something
again to warrant his wrath.

Otherwise, he had no interest in her. Arthur was the
softheart, not Lancelot. The Woads that resided within Badon
should have been turned out weeks ago - and Lancelot hadn't
been lying to the commander when he'd told him he'd follow his
orders to the letter.

Leaving the prisoner to her druthers, Lancelot nodded at
Neeve, his features sharpening as she teased back as good as
he had given.

Neeve
 
“Very well…but better make sure to not get lost on your
way to finding me…Oh, you guys only got what you
deserved, don’t you think, Sir Knight? …and the way
you’re looking right now, I’m very tempted to find
another bucket of water. Just for you...And
the…retribution, as you have put it so nicely…certainly
depends on your behavior…unless of course you want me to
send one of the Roman nuns after you in my stead…”


Shaking his head, Lancelot leaned a bit closer to her as Neeve
gave him one of those looks. She was a pretty thing - her dark
hair contrasted with the blue eyes made her extremely
different then most of the women Lancelot had known. And then
again....all women were women, weren't they?

Just as most men had things they couldn't let him get away
with, either. No...Lancelot was a cad, and a lothario, and not
worth trusting, and duplicitious, and a

whore

He shook his head again, feeling he had the look of a dog
about him. "No more water, lady. I promise I will take care to
see you later today. I'm off to retrieve yonder Saxon for your
guarding pleasure." He smiled, but it did not get anywhere
near the rest of his face. What a fake you are, barbarian dog.

"And by Hadrian's balls, please, no nuns. I had my fill of the
oh so charming one in the infirmary that would probably like
to sever my head very cheerfully." He snorted, and rubbed his
grubby, aching, bruised face. "Very well, my darling healer. I
am off for Derfel," Lancelot couldn't help the annoyed sound
that crept into his speech every time he said the man's name.
"And I'm to bathe afters. I'll see you shortly."

He touched the back of her hand with his long fingers, drawing
the gesture out for as long as he could. His nails and skin
were so dark and stained next to hers...and yet they both wore
the sin of blood spilt.

Turning, he quit the tavern, his sword banging at his side,
and as he pushed out into the watery light of day, he cursed
Arthur Castus for leaving him in the shithole...alone...most
likely for the rest of his life.

Two days. And then Merlin will see revenge the likes of wish
he couldn't even dream of.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Nov 10, 2008 9:41 pm
Tristan and Quintus


The Centurion was blazing with silent anger; that much Tristan
could tell easily, just from the set of his shoulders and jaw
and the way he had kicked his horse forward with a little more
roughness than was necessary. Not that the scout blamed the
other man; Karl was a bastard, and had been ever since Tristan
could remember first meeting the man. Chicken...ha. A sudden
movement in front of him almost caught Tristan unawares, and
he pulled Tirgatao up just in time, as Arthur wheeled his
horse smartly around and held up his arm for a halt. Quintus,
a couple of horses away, was so lost in his black thoughts
that he very nearly ran his mount into Jols'- but the beast
had enough sense to balk and avoid a collision.

Arthur
 
“I will not tolerate insubordination. Legionary
Pretorius, you will not speak to a superior officer in
such a manner again. You will remain here at the
fortress as punishment and I shall have a strong word
with your Captain when I return…and pray that I do not
punish you further for your insubordination upon my
return– perhaps time spent in the stocks to allow
reflection upon your behavior should I hear of any
further misconduct. Is that clear?”


Tristan's lip curved into just a touch of a smirk, aimed
blatantly- though out of Arthur's line of sight- at the
now-sternly chastised Karl. Oh, he would get some kind of
revenge for that remark about the hawk- but for now, he could
just be satisfied that Karl was being abruptly removed from
the mission in disgrace. Quintus, the scout saw, though his
horse had half-turned, remained looking stonily ahead,
avoiding Karl's eyes, almost as if uninterested in the
proceedings, but all patient, attentive waiting on the
Commander's steely words. But as Arthur spun Casti neatly
around again and cantered towards the open gate with scarcely
a backward glance, Tristan heard the Centurion mutter to
himself as he spurred his horse forward again.

"Knew he'd not allow that bastard to use me so." Or at least
that was Tristan's best guess at what was said; the words
seemed to be to no one in particular, and they were almost
torn away by the increasing wind of their gathering speed. The
gate flashed by, men watching from either side of ramparts and
courtyard, and they they were out on the hard Roman road, the
wind in their faces and a pale, wintery light bathing
everything. They picked up speed as they trotted down the
slope, Arthur now turning to Amadeus and exchanging a few
words that seemed to be polite conversation.

Tristan had little use for that. He turned his own gaze
upward, so that he might have appeared inattentive to a casual
observer, but though he scanned the sky, feeling suddenly the
lack of the hawk on his arm or soaring above, he was still
alert to what was on the ground, acutely aware of all around
him. The small movements at the edges of the trees far back
from the road, the sounds that indicated whether others were
present- so far, Tristan percieved no signs of Woads. That was
good, as far as it went- and the scout dropped his eyes once
more to the road ahead, intent on getting all of them through
this as best he could- which would be easier done now that
Arthur had relieved them of the dead weight of Karl.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 3:36 am
Alina


Fiona
 
"I ... um. I tripped and fell. Will it hurt when you
take it out?"


"You fell..." Alina murmured rhetorically. She had deduced as
much. It seemed a rather silly notion, but the healer doubted
Fiona purposely went around stabbing herself in the hand -
then again, stranger theories had crossed Alina's path before.
There were plenty of people out there that did things for
attention, but judging from the way Fiona was acting, it
didn't seem to be the case. The girl appeared every bit shaken
over the ordeal. No doubt the pain in her palm was far from
pleasant, but there seemed to be something more there,
something deeper the matter. She seemed so far away. The
healer shook her head to herself, dispelling the thoughts that
would've led to her prying into Fiona's personal life. She
didn't know the girl well enough for something like that.
Although, the woman did tend to look over-analyze situations
sometimes. Alina suspected Fiona was probably just suffering
from a case of the nerves; there were many that did not enjoy
resorting to infirmary treatment.

"Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about this,"
Alina said, in a tone both professional and re-assuring.
"Don't worry. It doesn't appear to be too deep. I'm happy you
didn't pull it out yourself, though. It was good you came."
Even the smallest of wounds were at risk for infection if not
properly handled. With the sickness having just passed through
the fort - and some still even recovering from their illnesses
- the healer was not going to treat anyone precariously.
"Sorry," she chimed in after removing the nail from Fiona's
hand. Gently, Alina took the wounded appendage over the basin
and cleansed away the excess blood. "See," she added as she
worked, offering Fiona a small hopeful smile. "I told you it
wasn't all that bad." She applied some disinfectant balm
around the swollen opening in Fiona's palm and wrapped her
hand with a clean bandage. She took away the soiled towel and
faded crimson water, and washed her hands clean quickly,
before returning to Fiona's side. "It should heal nicely. Make
sure you keep the wound clean. And, try to be more careful
now, alright? I'd hate to see another part of your day ruined
having to come to the infirmary like this. One of us should be
able to enjoy some fresh air this afternoon, don't you think?"
Alina told her with a wry smile, and brushed a few stray hairs
from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Was there
anything else you needed?"
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 7:48 am

Ceinwyn and Guinevere


The trees were large and imposing, casting shadows upon
Ceinwyn’s tainted blue skin. The paint was uneven around her
arms, thicker at the elbow joints, and her face? The Woad
woman’s lips were stained a darker blue, but her cheeks still
retained their natural colour. Pale silk, soft skin, but
rouged by the bite of cold winds. Ceinwyn’s green eyes were
intense, strong and penetrating, and perhaps that explained
people’s mistrust of her? The woman smiled dryly at the
thought. She had been young and foolish once. She had been
naive and ignorant of Rome’s unsatiable lust for bloodshed.
Ceinwyn smiled bitterly at the thought. Indeed, she should
have known. As a child, she had watched her own mother raped
and tortured by Roman soldiers. Her body had been dumped at
the child’s feet, and in truth, Ceinwyn never forgot that
memory. It caused a dark frown to cross her pretty features,
and masked any beauty that once was...

A small breeze tussled at the red matted strands of her hair,
and blew them over her shoulders. She was impressive in her
filth. Her hair was thick and lustrous, and her eyes glared
green from beneath it. Her lips were full, almost pouted in
defiance at the world and it’s cruel ways...

The Woad woman followed Guinevere eagerly. Ceinwyn could move
undetected through the undergrowth, and pick her way through
the sharpest and most painful brambles. There was cuts on her
legs, deep ones, but the woman did not acknowledge them. She
grew strength from the pain. It reminded her that she was
alive, and it was a personal penance for sharing her body with
the enemy. Oh, she did not forget. She did not forget Lancelot
and his crude hands upon her body. It caused a sharp twitch in
her fingertips, and her eyes grew cloudy for a moment,
bleak...before turning into intense anger. She had a passion
for revenge, she could not deny it. She hated all Sarmatians
with the same personal anger narrowed for the First knight,
and if left alone with one? Her actions would be drived by
unadulterated hatred and loathing. Ceinwyn had discovered a
passion for torture. She thought about it often, in the depths
of her troubled mind. She would slit a Sarmatian’s throat one
day, and she would enjoy it.

The woodland was thicker here, and Guinevere drew strength
from its vastness. Guinevere had never seen Rome, but she had
heard of its ‘prettiness.’ They said the city was made from
gold, and that it reached high into the sky, offending the
gods with its arrogant and never-ending ambition. But here?
British land was not offensive, it was beautiful. Each leaf
rustled gently in the winds, and Guinevere had watched the
storms rip through the entire woodland, the thunderous rain
and winds bringing the trees to life. In a blessed and most
impressive show of sacredness. The rivers ran strong in this
country, and the soil was moist and fruitful. Theirs was a
great land, a temple for mother earth, and Rome sought to
destroy it. Rome sought to rape its fertile lands and turn
them into stone. Guinevere would weep at the sight of such
things, at the sight of destruction. The fortress of Badon
Hill had been her home for a short time...but it had not been
so disastrous. Because Arthur was torn between his Roman and
British heritage. Guinevere had faith that Arthur would choose
correctly, or condemn them all to death. She had faith in him.
Indeed, she would not admit such things to her brethren...but
to see their whole country reduced to stone and gold? It was a
travesty, and the gods would turn their backs on them all.
Leaving them to drown in their own bloodshed. Guinevere
refused to see this happen.

Guinevere stood strong beside Smith’s horse. Her form was
lithe and tall, undeniably strong. Her dark eyes were deep
with thought, blessed with thick and lustrous eyelashes. She
blinked up at the man, but held his gaze. Their party was
small, but Guinevere picked him as her source of information.
She glanced briefly to Nolan at the back of the group, but did
not acknowledge him. No, not yet.

Dropping to the ground, Ceinwyn’s eyes sought her brethren.
Her expression was cold, unaffected, emotionless. She looked
slowly to Kayley as she spoke,

Kayley
 
"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,”


Guinevere nodded. Ceinwyn’s tone was sharp, merciless in its
opinion of Roman blood, and Guinevere looked at the other
Woad. Her red hair was matted from the roots, and almost brown
with mud. She would need to wash. But...appearing dishevelled
worked in their favour. Many considered the Woad kindred to be
savages, uncivilised, brutal...and Ceinwyn certainly appeared
so. Her green eyes were fiery, passionate, but Guinevere was
concerned for her friend. She was almost blinded by hatred,
driven thoughtlessly by rage...

Ceinwyn nodded slowly, listening to each word. She looked at
Kayley, and spoke to her. Indeed, she ignored Smith’s presence
because he...was handsome, and Ceinwyn was not interested in
such things. She associated handsome men with her enemy, and
it was a hard bond to break. The Woad had seen Lancelot’s
charm, and fallen prey to it. She would fight alongside her
handsome brethren, but to speak with such? No. Ceinwyn looked
at Kayley with a calculated gaze, and offered a dry and forced
smile. It bit against her lips. Oh, but she was bitter! Hard!
She did not aspire to happiness, because she fell so easily
into sweet hatred.

“Then we must follow orders.” She spoke harshly, directly, and
without any obvious opinion. “And hopefully encounter some
unfortunate Romans along the way...who are in dire need of
having their throats cut.” The woman’s voice was cold, and she
blinked lazily at her companions.

Smith
 
"Suitable that they be buried -- unlike Mona.


Guinevere watched Smith spit on the floor, and nodded
succinctly at his reaction. The woman’s eyes brightened and
she curled her top lip back in distaste. Mona? The Woad bitch
who betrayed them all with her madness and murderous attempts.
The Woad Princess had been attacked by Mona, nearly
killed...and now Mona was dead. Guinevere had not understood
the gods designs for Mona, but the Woad hoped she suffered.
She brushed a thin hand through her loosening brown hair, and
blinked slowly at the man. Calculated. She wrinkled her nose
lightly, and looked out towards the road ahead.

“I care not what happens to her corpse. Let it rot.” Her tone
was undeniable. She spat the words from her full and pouted
lips, and turned back to her companions. Mona was dead.
Another traitor was dead. Was loyalty so difficult these days?
Was it held at a price? Guinevere remembered the woman’s
attempts at the assassination, and shook her head bitterly.

Smith
 
”What of Merlin and Juna, hm?"


Merlin and Juna?

Guinevere turned sharply to look at Smith, and arched an
eyebrow in amusement. Yes, she knew about such things, but for
Smith to know? To enquire about their relationship? Guinevere
was slightly amused by it, and a small smile started upon her
full lips. The woman did not approve of gossip, not truly, but
Smith’s question caught her by surprise. They had been
speaking of orders, of treacherous brethren...and now to jump
so easily onto the subject of her father’s private affairs?
Guinevere had no true opinion on it. Juna was not her mother,
and therefore Guinevere cared very little. She trusted her
father’s judgement, and the healer seemed an asset to their
kind. If she was a traitor? Guinevere knew not, but Merlin was
no idiot. They had suffered traitors before...and if Juna
played foul? Then she would come to regret it in the end.
Ceinwyn had been punished for being a traitor’s whore...so
Juna would have reason to fear, if her intentions were to be
questioned...

“Is there something you wish to ask me, Smith?” She asked,
smiling knowingly at the man. Guinevere looked intently at
him, studying his face for a moment. Smith was an asset to
their army, a valuable and intelligent warrior...but she had
not guessed him to be concerned with such things? Guinevere
held his dark gaze for a moment, and her eyes were intense.
She had used this gaze to gain attention in several
situations, and they did not fail her yet. The woman was aware
of her presence, and it was a good one. She commanded
attention when she needed to. Turning away slowly, she glanced
to Ceinwyn talking to Kayley, but spoke again. Slowly and in
deliberation of its meaning. “I trust my father’s judgement.
And if she plays foul for my father’s affections? Then I would
not fancy her surviving particularly long. Merlin is no wise
man’s enemy.”

Guinevere looked back at Smith, and gestured ahead. They
should not waste time, not truly. However, her amused smile
remained, and she started walking alongside the male Woad.
“You take an amusing interest in my father’s affairs, hm? I
assume it is because you care for his wellbeing. Tell me, how
is Merlin? Is he well?” Guinevere’s tone had been playful,
amused, but it was now concerned. She had not seen Merlin
lately. Did he curse her disappearance? Did he question her
actions? Guinevere looked ahead. She did not want anyone
sensing her worry.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 1:02 pm
Karl


Karl was pleased with himself at how he had visibly ruffled
Quintus and Brendyn. And Titrus was a patsie, the idiot, Karl
thought. The Roman happily munched on his nuts until Arthur
suddenly spun around on his horse and faced them all with a
stern look upon his face. Karl stopped chewing in mid-nut and
knew immediately that he'd perhaps gone to far. The
commander's deep pentrating emerald gaze found its way to
Karl's crystal blue eyes. Karl almost cringed under the mighty
weight of that gaze. Nervously, he looked down at the ground,
clearly bowing to the alpha male, Artorius.

Arthur
 
“I will not tolerate insubordination. Legionary
Pretorius,


Karl jerked his head up upon hearing his name. Fuck me,

Arthur
 
you will not speak to a superior officer in such a
manner again. You will remain here at the fortress as
punishment and I shall have a strong word with your
Captain when I return…and pray that I do not punish you
further for your insubordination upon my return –
perhaps time spent in the stocks to allow reflection
upon your behavior should I hear of any further
misconduct. Is that clear?”


No Dammit!!I wanted to go on this mission! Whores of Badon,
NO!!

"Ay, commander," Karl said just above a whisper and lowered
his head again.

The Roman turned Brutus around in the direction of the
stables, but not without glowering at Brendyn and Quintus
first. The look on his face might have suggested "pay back"
upon their return, however Karl remained silent. He didn't
turn around to see the men head out of the gate. He wouldn't
allow them that pleasure. Instead, he reached inside his bag
and pulled out the flask he'd been waiting until later to sip
from. The blond Legionary put the flask up to his lips and
threw his head back, pulling a mighty swig from the leather
bag.

"Ahhhhhhh!" he said, licking his lips and shaking his dirty
blond hair.

"Fuck 'em. I'm sure I'll better serve the
Holy-Fucking-Roman-Fucking-Empire by staying right here!"

Karl chuckled and took another big sip. Now, all he had to do
was stay out of sight while they were gone. Karl let out a big
laugh. What could he find to do to entertain himself? He took
another sip from his flask and headed back to the commons.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 1:22 pm
Darya


Tatiana
 
"Sorry about that, Darya.. Both Lancelot and the
Commander had me mesmerized there for a bit. Didn't mean
to go completely quiet on you like that. Does Lancelot
happen to have that effect on all of the girls or just
a few of them?"


Darya first arched an eyebrow at Tatiana as the girl finally
had found her voice again. And then she could not help but
chuckle briefly at her words. And there’s the next prey, the
Sarmatian thought and shook her head slightly. No doubt
Tatiana would fit well into Lancelot’s hunting scheme. She
cleared her throat and met Tatiana’s gaze.

“I wouldn’t say 'all'…but certainly on most females around…”,
the dark-haired then said with a slight shrug of her
shoulders, “…he’s a charmer, a heart-breaker…and a bitch.”
Darya breathed a forced laugh at the last attribute she had
just given her countryman…though it was so true. “But I have
no doubt you will find that out yourself…sooner or later…”,
she then added and gave Tatiana a faint smile. The girl would
be an easy target for the First Knight should he decide to put
his charming spell on her…of that Darya was quite certain. But
she kept that thought to herself…

Tatiana
 
"I'm probably going to head over to the tavern for some
breakfast and something warm to drink then I'll come
back over here and help out my Neice, Tayala, the little
girl who brought out the Optio's horse with the stable
work."


“Sounds like a good plan…”, the female Sarmatian stated…but
then noticed that one of the men (Karl) was already leaving the group, which was still within sight, and made his way back to the stables. “Now what might have happened there?”, Darya mused with a frown and tried to make out who the person was. A Roman soldier, that much was certain. Strange… Shaking her head again, the dark-haired sighed and briefly looked at Tatiana again. “Maybe I’ll see you in the tavern then. I’ll bring this one…”, she said and nodded at the hawk on her arm, “…inside and then might go to fetch something to eat as well…” Another wry smile…then she once more looked suspiciously over to the returning person, giving Tatiana the chance to react to her words before she would leave for her room to find Tristan’s hawk a nice place to rest on…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 1:28 pm
Galahad


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."


Galahad was riding about the arena slowly. He kept a wary eye
on Eyla, a little uncertain about her. She wasn't the normal
type of whore one found at Badon Hill. She was rather
intelligent, he figured, by the intriguing way she spoke how
she could twist his words and leave him feeling like a fish
-gawping and staring. He didn't like that feeling. He didn't
like feeling like any woman was getting the better of him or
making a fool of him. It hurt too much.

When Gawain started to warn the woman about the horse, the
yuong knight started to nod along, his brow furrowing sweetly
as he peered over at her through the dust his horse was
kicking up at a slow trot about teh arena. His nodding came to
an abrupt, gawping end when Eyla responded - loud enough that
he could hear her too! -

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...


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."


Furious blue eyes darted to the duo watching him. He didn't
like them talkign about him as if he wasn't there - and he
surely did not appreciate Eyla's comments about him being the
unpredictable and nervous beast. He clicked his tongue and his
shoulders became solid blocks of disgruntled tension as he
trotted past the two. He glared down at Gawain - blaming him
for encouraging the wench, and then fixed Eyla with a fierce
glower too, turning to look over his shoulder at her as he
moved around and around...

He knew better than to think she was being serious about him
being something worth fearing in battle. Galahad knew himself
that he was formidable in battle - he had experienced enough
of it to know this to be true. That he still lived was
testament to his ferocity in battle. That Eyla would joke
about it only served to make Galahad even more disgruntled.

Eyla
 
"Why don’t you come down, Galahad? You are so very far
away...”


Her cooing tone floated across the arena to him.

Galahad stiffened and turned an accusing glare at the pretty
woman. Galahad felt mocked and he felt rightfully indignant at
this mockery. He slowed the horse though, allowing the beast
to find her own easy pace around the dusty arena. As he passed
Gawain and Eyla he noticed Eyla with her hand on Gawain's
shoulder, and Gawain looking as if he were trying not to enjoy
that closeness.

"No." he answered her petulantly, all but crossing his arms
over his chest. He pulled the light grey horse to a halt
directly across the arena from Eyla and Gawain and let the
equine shift and dance to the side at the sudden halt whilst
Galahad peered over at the duo childishly not going near them
- but sat there a good few moments just looking at them
muleishly.

"Maybe I want to be far away, hmm? You think of that? Maybe I
want to be on my own for a little while? Maybe I ... maybe
I... oh just shut up." he muttered discontentedly and slid
down out of the saddle. He stalked across the arena as he
blabbered at them, waving his hand around in mid-air to make
his point, his frown even more dominating of his youthful
features now than ever before.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue Nov 11, 2008 1:48 pm
Titrus


Titrus cringed upon hearing Arthur's words. He should have
sized Karl up himself and he mentally kicked himself for not
doing so. Gods, he hoped he made it up to Arthur along the
way. His ass would be fried already more than it was when
Malcus found out. Titrus tightened his grip on Adolphus' reins
and gently kicked the horses sides, nudging him onward as they
made their way out of the gates and began the long ride to the
Woad camp.

Titrus rode in silence, pondering things, when his thoughts
drifted him to Ione and his daughters. He knew he'd done the
right thing in asking Ione to check on them. The lieutenant
knew they'd be fine, but he couldn't help worrying when he had
to leave the fortress. Titrus knitted his eyebrows when he
thought of Ione's loss. How horribly sad it was to lose a
child and then to be alone was particularly sad. He wished he
could have perhaps stayed with her a bit longer. Titrus hoped
she was okay and said a quick prayer for his weaver friend. He
looked forward to receiving a new cloak from her upon his
return, if he returned, as the one he wore was getting a bit
tattered.

The lieutenant looked over at Quintus.

"I guess I fucked that up," he said, shifted a bit in his
saddle. "At least we won't have to deal with Karl. That's a
tremendous benefit. Tristan!" Titrus called out to the scout.
"How many were with Merlin the last time?"
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