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November 2008
Topic Started: May 16 2010, 03:48 AM (3,051 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 4:20 pm
Catherine


Catherine was a dream. She was whatever a man wanted her to
be. And if she was not that she knew how to pretend to be it.
Sometimes it was hard to know what a man wanted, othertimes it
was easy to know what he wanted but it was impossible to give
it to him. The blonde was looking down at Malcus' eyes as he
looked up at her, a look of barely contained lust and want in
the dark depths of his orbs - Catherine knew that this was a
man who wanted tenderness, who wanted gratification but he did
not want her to be a whore to him. He did not want her to be a
lady.

He did not want her to be a whore. He wanted her to be
familiar to him, and yet unclingy.

It was her favourite role.

Malcus
 
"mmmm, that feels nice. Perhaps my quarters? We are
guaranteed privacy there and I might feel a little more
comfortable. Shall we?"


The whore's lips parted and her breath stilled, eyes becoming
distant and dark as the soldier slid his hand up the inside of
her leg. It was a promising touch, filled with confidence and
the ability to please. Catherine let out a ragged breath as
his hand slid downwards, fixing him with a saucy, frank stare.

He took her hand and Catherine sidled in next to him, rubbing
her shoulder and chest against him as they sidled towards the
exit. The blonde kept her head down, laughing softly as if the
two of them were sharing some prized secret, her hand was
tight in his, holding onto his calloused appendage for all the
world as if he were her constant lover.

The door was opened and they went out into the mid-noon chill.
Catherine shivered and daintily rested her chin on Barbattus'
shoulder, smiling over at him sweetly, her free hand lifted to
her chest to hold her cloak shut to ward off the cold.

"Mmmm - it will feel good to get in out of this cold." she
purred, nuzzling her soft lips against his ear. She gave a
small titter of amusement and looked ahead of them, allowing
him to lead the way. "Tell me, my Brutish Captain," she
simpered at him lustily, "What is that you offer me that could
be better than I could imagine? I feel I should warn you that
I have a very vivid and creative imagination..." she spoke to
keep his focus on her. It was all too easy for a man to change
his mind about taking a whore once the cold air hit them and
their sex-addled brains were given a quick blow-out.







Mari

Linnette
 
"Thank you, Mari. A toast would be wonderful...the
food's on the house, though. I'll be right back."


Yes, her offering was paltry - but the thought behind it was
pure and wholesome. Mari had heard of people toasting to the
fallen men - and oft-times when her father was in teh deepest
of his despairs about the men he had known and lost he would
lift his bottle and toast their memories. She had observed
this and found it a most endearing part of her father. For all
his faults he still had a heart, he still hurt. He was still
human.

The young woman sidled around onto the bench and leaned her
elbows on the table. Gently she laid the pages down and looked
at them, her fingers spread wide as she arranged them into
some order. Linnette's fine paper she kept to one side, every
now and then she would put her hand to the paper and smile to
herself.

After sorting the papers she leaned her elbow onto the table
and propped her chin into her palm, looking about the tavern
with wide curious eyes. There were so many people around -
gatherings and groups. A couple were leaving the tavern hand
in hand, a sight that made Mari smile. She didn't realise, of
course, that the blonde holding the man's hand was a whore.
Why would she?

A curly haired man stood at the bar and seemed to be
surrounded by a host of others. One woman was eating - another
woman had the most bizarre hair that Mari had ever seen. For a
moment she goggled at it and lifted a hand self-consciously to
her own, long flowing locks. She pulled a few tendrils down
over her shoulder and looked at the silken length before
lgancing back at the woman with the cropped hair.

It must have been an accident or something... something that
caught her hair and she had to cut it to those odd lengths,
Mari presumed with a self-satisfied nod and a considerately
sympathetic look to the woman before continuing her perusal of
those in the tavern.

The curly haired man caught her attention again. Mari narrowed
her dark eyes to try get a better look at him, wondering at
his familiarity. Or maybe it wasn't familiarity but ... there
was an odd sense of presence about him. As if he were bigger
than the mere content of his body. It was hard to explain -
had she been able to she might have called him charismatic,
but as it was Mari just found herself looking at him like a
dolt, smiling sweetly until he shifted his position. She
looked away guiltily then.

Mari saw Linnette coming back with a tray of food and drink.
She sat up eagerly, smiling from ear to ear as the auburn
haired woman came to the table.

Linnette
 
"Here you are- the roast meat today looks quite good!"


At the smell of food Mari's stomach gave an embarrassing
gurgle. The young woman gave a sheepish smile and placed a
hand to her flat stomach, hunching her shoulders with an
embarrassed giggle.

"Oh it does! Thank you so much - it looks delicious. mmm " she
murmured, helping Linnette take the items off the tray. She
put the tray on theedge of the table and pulled her glass of
wine towards her, eyes wide with excitement. She felt very
much at ease with Linnette, very much her own person which was
a first for Mari. Her grateful smile was beaming as she looked
across at Linnette. She reached her fingers around her cup of
wine and looked into it, gave it a sniff and felt a tingling
in her stomach. She never had wine before. She had tried her
father's ale and found it disgustingly bitter and left an
awful after-taste. This on the other hand, smelled fruity,
tangy.

Slowly the young woman's smile slipped and she cleared her
throat, looking at Linnette with humble brown eyes.
She lifted her cup towards the other woman's, smiling sadly.

"To Gedeon...." she intoned sweetly, unable to say anything
more. Though she wanted to. She wanted to say something nice
about him, something that would let Linnette know that she was
sorry for her loss but nothing came to mind. For once, Mari
was speechless.









Galahad

Oh she was getting a reaction alright. Galahad had come to the
stable arena intent on losing some of the tension in his mind
and body, but instead he found himself hounded by a whore who
was teasing him, mocking him as if he were some kid! The young
Knight felt rightfully petulant about it all. And Gawain
wasn't making things any better by allowing the wench to hang
out of him the way she was. Though, Galahad had to admit, the
sight of her breasts pushed up over the top of her bodice as
she pressed against the fair knight was ... well, delicious.
But he resolutely looked away, scowling at the ground, a
tightness about his eyes as the wound in his side protested at
the jarring steps he took as he stomped across the arena.

He butted past Eyla and Gawain, leading his horse behind him.

Eyla
 
“Loneliness is so boring, Galahad. You wouldn’t want to
be termed thus by your comrades, would you? You do not
strike me as the boring type Gawain...or are you? Would
you rather leave me here alone...with no-one to play
with... Do you want to play with me Gawain?”


Boring?!!

Galahad stopped. His horse continued walking, headbutting her
master and sending Galahad staggering a few steps. He turned
to glare at the beautiful whore, his wild curly hair in
disarray. His horse gave a protesting scuff of her hooves
against the packed dirt floor. He watched with wide, accusing
blue eyes as the woman put her hand to Gawain's hair and the
fair knight responded the only way a man can when a gorgeous,
willing woman showed interest.

Gawain
 
"I'm...I'm not.. boring..at least..not really.. No, I
wouldn't want to leave you alone. I'm sure that there's
something that we could do together. Lady, have you
ever ridden on a horse before? Galahad, I'll see you
later, little brother. Come, Lady, there's someone that
I want you to meet."


The young knight glared fiercely at the two. He gave Gawain a
scoff of irritation and turned, still able to hear as his
friend turned on the charm for the whore. He looked over his
shoulder once and then stuck his nose up into the air,
glowering darkly as he led his grey down the line of stalls to
her one. He walked her in and stood there with his hands on
his hips looking at her flank. He then walked to the stall
gate and pressed his two large hands to the top of it, leaning
forwards and looking down to the arena to see Gawain leading
teh whore away.

So he had told them to leave him alone, but it wasn't like he
wanted them to go off together and leave him completely on his
own. Galahad pushed away from the door and stooped to pick up
the brushes he had tossed onto the ground earlier. He paused,
hand lowered to the ground and frowned. He looked under the
horse's belly to the other side of teh stall and then stood
up. He looked puzzled as he peered around the hay-strewn floor
and then gave an almighty huff of disgruntled breath.

His fists poked into his hips again and he looked up at the
rafters, his white teeth biting his bottom lip as he tried to
contain his temper.

Taking a deep breath he resisted the temptation to look back
at Gawain and Eyla and instead started walking around his
still-saddled horse, kicking the straw with his boot to
uncover the hidden brushes.

"Gods damn it!" he finally exclaimed, "OUCH FUCK!" he then
exclaimed having kicked the stall wall with his booted foot.
The Knight reached out a hand and clutched the stall gate, his
other hand reaching down to cradle the tip of his boot, his
cheeks flushed red with frustration. He bowed his head, curly
hair falling forward over his pale forehead.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 4:48 pm

Arthur


Apparently Arthur’s question had caught Amadeus by surprise as
the Optio turned wide and curious grey eyes on the Commander.
Arthur only offered a mildly pleasant smile in return. He
licked at his already chapped bottom lip and focused once more
on the road ahead. The wind seemed particularly biting today.
Solemn green eyes took in everything around them as they rode
on. No movement beyond the gentle swaying of the bare branches
in the trees that dotted the wintry landscape north of the
Wall.

Amadeus
 
"Ah my home, Commander, is in the hills just outside of
Rome. It is said that the Scipio Villa was once the
Senate of Rome when there was a fire that destroyed the
city itself though how true that is I do not know."


“The Senate you say? Hmm,” Arthur feigned a mild interest when
in fact, his thoughts were not on Amadeus’ words at all, but
on Merlin and making peace….and well, anything but the
frivolous things Scipio appeared to want to discuss. Oh, the
Commander had been the one to invoke dialogue as he had hoped
the other man would indeed distract him. But truly, Arthur was
as uninterested in Scipio’s villa as he was in fancy jewelry
or fine linens.

Arthur caught a few snatches of the talk being exchanged among
the small group of men riding just behind him, and thankfully
it was nothing troublesome. Cutting the brash Pretorius from
their ranks before riding out would no doubt prove to be a
wise decision Arthur thought to himself – even as his eyes
canted over to Scipio as the other man rambled on about
‘home’.

Amadeus
 
"But the home I know best is here in Britain actually. I
was born and raised only a few miles from here, would
you believe? I grew up in these hills, in this rain ..."


“Then you are a true native to Britain, something that we hold
in common,” Arthur commented with an arched brow over at his
fellow Roman officer; smiling despite the sentiment not quite
reaching his green eyes. Under different circumstances, the
two men might have studied and played together as boys. But
Arthur’s childhood had been anything but typical for the son
of a military commander. Not when his father had died in
battle while Arthur was only a few summers old…and then the
loss of his beloved mother by the time he was ten.

Amadeus
 
"And I will die on this land also for I do not think my
duty to the Empire will ever be truly over. It's in my
heart as it was in my father's. As it was in your
father's also...


Arthur’s lips formed a thin line and something dark and
shadowy crept into his placid green eyes. His grip tightened
on the leather reins in his hand. His mount must have sensed
the change in his master’s emotional armour as the animal
released a firm snort and tousled his great mane in mild
distraction despite the steady pace of the ride.

It is a family tradition – and it is my destiny.

Amadeus
 
I have heard stories of your father, Commander, from
my own father. He spoke of a magnificent man - with
unequalled strength and humanity."


Uther Castus. The Great Warlord. The man whose brilliant
military record had always cast a shadow over his son’s, yet
had also been the driving force behind Arthur’s own rise in
the ranks of the Roman Army. Uther had commanded the first of
the Sarmatian Ala in Britain. And Arthur had taken his
father’s Sarmatian cavalry one step further by making them his
knights and embracing them as brothers…..and forming the now
renowned ‘round table’. What would the elder Castus think of
that?

“Then obviously, your father must have been as noble and
magnanimous as my own,” Arthur spoke the icy words over the
chilly midday wind and not without a hint of derision toward
the ‘legend’ that was Uther Castus. Arthur had grown up both
prideful in his father’s accomplishments and sorrowful at not
knowing the man behind the deeds. And how was it this man’s
father had known Uther when Arthur had not? Had Amadeus?
Arthur never truly knew his father because he never had enough
time…..Uther had been taken from this world early on in his
young son’s life. A flicker of envy passed through the emerald
shades of Arthur’s eyes as he once again looked along the road
ahead.

“So tell me, Amadeus Scipio….how was it that your father knew
mine? Did he also serve in the Roman army?” Arthur asked
evenly; his curiosity at last engaged by the direction of
conversation between he and Amadeus. And perhaps Arthur had at
last found some common ground with this prim and proper Roman
officer riding at his side.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 7:38 pm
Tayala


Galahad
 
"Gods damn it!" "OUCH FUCK!"


Hearing a slight scuffle then a few angry words coming quite
loudly in the near quiet stable from a stall just down the
way, Tayala excused herself from her new friend and their
conversation to see if there was something that she could do
to help.

"Excuse me, sir. Is there something that I could perhaps help
you out with?" She asked polietly coming over to stand in
front of the stall that Galahad was sort of oddly standing/
leaning against the door with his horse standing in the center
with its tack still on it.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 9:06 pm
Malcus Barbattus


She liked it.

Catherine liked the way Malcus touched her. That encouraged
him and he smiled. If she liked that, he felt confident she
would like other things also. Catherine held Malcus' hand as
they made their way to the tavern exit. They were closely
tucked together, as happy lovers might have been.

Another place and time, maybe

The captain was surprised at Catherine's height. She was much
taller than he'd earlier imagined as she pressed her thin
frame close to his. She placed her chin on Barbattus' shoulder
and the captain lowered his head and kissed her softly on her
forehead.

The cold air smacked both of them as they stepped out into the
light of day. Catherine clutched at her cloak to keep it
closed and attempt to stay warm while Malcus' balls crawled
back up into his stomach from the frigid temperature.

"Come closer to me," he said as he wrapped his arm around her
and pulled her toward him even more. "Perhaps I can offer you
the warmth of my body," he chuckled as he felt a tear welling
up in his left eye from the cold air. Catherine lifted her
head slightly and placed her lips against his ear.

Catherine
 
"Mmmm - it will feel good to get in out of this cold."


"Indeed it will, my lady. We will be there soon. It's just up
ahead there," he said as they made their way quickly.

Catherine
 
"Tell me, my Brutish Captain. What is that you offer me
that could be better than I could imagine? I feel I
should warn you that I have a very vivid and creative
imagination..."


Her voice was full of lust and immediately Malcus forgot the
cold. Much to his delight, his groin began to stretch again.

"Now my fair maiden, I could tell you what it is, 'tis true.
But perhaps it might be better to show you instead," Malcus
paused a moment to let that sink in.

Barbattus smiled and stopped walking, looking down at the
blond, green-eyed wonder. Malcus turned to face Catherine,
then looked around quickly to make sure there were no
witnesses. When he was convinced the coast was clear, he
pulled the woman close to him, slightly pushing his hips
forward to meet hers. He positioned himself so he fitted
nicely between her body's vee. He hoped she felt his erection.
It would have been impossible to miss.

"Tell me Catherine - yes, I know your name too - have you ever
felt such pleasure that all of your six senses have been
stimulated simultaneously? Hmmmm?" he asked as he slightly
moved his hips.

"And the pleasure you felt was so overwhelming that your body
went numb and you feared losing consciousness?" Malcus smiled
and his eyes twinkled.

"Now, my lady, can you imagine that? If so, we must hurry!"









Titrus

Tristan
 
"'Bout twenty. Some of his best-that...lieutenant...And
Guinevere,"


Tristan's voice floated in the wind to Titrus' ears.

"Shit. Guinevere? Shit," Titrus said. Guinvere was trouble.
She'd lived among them and knew the lay out of the fortress.
She could tell Merlin of any weaknesses she may have detected.
She probably had something to do with that woad child
escaping. It wouldn't have surprised the Roman. Guinvere was
conniving, smart and calculating.

Titrus wasn't sure who the lieutenant was that Tristan refered
to but he did remember a man very close to Merlin when he,
Titrus, had faced the woads before with Captain Barbattus.
Maybe he was the same.

Quintus
 
"Hmmph- damned odd, fighting women,"


Titrus was glad to see Quintus coming out of his funk.

"Oy," he shouted over to the centurion.

"Some of those crazy bitches fight naked too, didya know
that?" the lieutenant shot a glance over at Quintus, hoping
maybe he'd get a reaction to further help the man forget about
Karl and lift his spirits.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 9:25 pm
Linnette


Mari
 
"Oh it does! Thank you so much - it looks delicious.
Mmm. To Gedeon...."


"To Gedeon." Linnette near-whispered the words; she found she
couldn't force them any louder around the lump in her throat,
and they were very nearly drowned out by the soft click of her
cup against Mari's, not to mention the other ambient noise in
the tavern. To Gedeon. Her beloved, so vey missed Gedeon,
whose absence had left a hole in her heart. It was fitting
that they honor him this way, and Linnette held the image of
him in her mind as she solemnly tilted the cup and let the
fragrant wine touch her lips. A bare sip- that was all she
took, and as it slid down, squirming its way past the
congestion of sadness, Linnette sighed and dropped her eyes to
some point around Mari's shoulder, though she was not looking
at anything in particular. She said nothing- she could not
think of anything to say, and it seemed Mari couldn't, either.
What good could words do, anyway? Linnette merely sat there in
melancholy for a long moment, turning over thoughts of Gedeon
in her head, and praying to God and all the saints for this
portrait to come out right- so that even one day when the
thoughts were no more, or dimmed, she would have that.

Finally, though, conscious that the silence between them was
stretching into the worrisome, Linnette roused herself,
stirring in her chair, sitting up straighter, and once more
looking up. Her lips turned up into a brave smile that did not
reach her sad eyes- but she set the cup down and efficiently
reached for bread, which she broke in two, passing one half to
Mari, indicating to the girl that it was all right to eat.
Linnette hadn't missed the gurgle of her stomach when she had
first arrived with the tray- she must be ravenous. Linnette
picked up her knife and tackled the meat next, her movements a
little awkward as she tried to place as little strain as
possible on her still-painful left hand. She managed it,
though, and once more passed the first piece over to Mari, all
very polite, gracious hostess.

"What happened to your hand?" she asked curiously, nodding to
indicate Mari's bandaged hand that seemed, in odd coincidence,
to mirror her own. And Drake's, for that matter. Strange that
she and two people of her acquaintance should have so similar
an injury…but for all her wondering, Linnette asked the
question mainly as a way to break the silence. Break it with
something harmless, something that turned the focus to Mari
and was not, she devoutly hoped, a cause for more sadness.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Wed Nov 12, 2008 9:34 pm
Brendyn


A bit ahead of Tyranus, the soldier saw Titrus, Tristam and
Quintus talking....and Arthur and the Optio. Bors had remained
silent which was not the norm for him... but then Brendyn knew
very little about those that were on the mission. He figured
it was time to ask some questions that had been gnawing at him
since Karl was Left behind at the fort. Even though they had
never met, karl had immediately taken a dislike to Brendyn.
No, the man did not have to say much... only a look got the
point across. Brendyn hated not knowing why one took a dislike
in the other .... he was sure everyone had had the same
experience.

Being disliked for no real reason.. except maybe to make the
other look more superior to the other? Was that it?

Moving his black arab mix a bit closer to the Lieutenant and
the Centurion, Brendyn cleared his throat then asked to which
ever would answer his question, "Why did Karl...I mean
everyone seemed to automatically dislike him... he did not
even bother getting to know me, and immediately, he took a
disliking to me. Why is that?" He did not want to stir up
trouble, but it did bother him a bit as to why...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 3:59 am
Neeve


Neeve furrowed her brow when she noticed Neeria practically
descending on the bowl of stew and the bread the tavern wench
had delivered. It appeared the Woad had not eaten for days or
so. Or she had ignored the food – which certainly was not
exactly tasty – given to her in the dungeons. Well, the food
now would at least help the healing process of Neeria’s
injury…as it would give the girl some strength.

“Easy, girl…”, the raven-haired murmured at Neeria, “…no one’s
gonna steal that from you now that you have claimed it…” Then
she puffed out a breath and focused on Lancelot again…

Lancelot
 
"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. 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. Very well, my darling healer. I am off for
Derfel. And I'm to bathe afters. I'll see you shortly."


Neeve twisted her mouth in honest amusement. She knew how to
tease the First Knight…and since that was his game, too…it
usually was bittersweet entertainment. “I see we understand
each other…”, the healer just said with an impish sparkling in
her crystal-blue eyes. “And always keep my…retribution…in
mind. In case you do not show up again…”, the Briton added
while briefly lowering her gaze to the Sarmatian’s fingers on
the back of her hand before glancing up at him from underneath
her eyelashes once more.

Then the knight turned and went to exit the tavern. Neeve
could not help but smirk slightly and shook her head while
watching him leave. Oh, he would return to let her check on
his injuries. Because he certainly knew that she would send a
nun otherwise… A well-working weapon to use against most
Sarmatians if they decided to be stubborn again. Neeve just
sometimes wished there would be a similar effective leverage
against Arthur. Roman nuns didn’t exactly 'scare' him…

And when the healer was about to turn towards Vanora and
Neeria again, she noticed newcomers in the tavern. Linnette
was there…and another girl whose name she couldn’t recall. A
young, dark-haired thing. A corner of Neeve’s mouth twitched
slightly…but then Vanora had her full attention again…

Vanora
 
"I have some clothes that I have not used in a while and
they are in good condition. I am due for a break, so we
can go to my house and I can get them for you. Well,
shall we see what I have?"


Adian
 
"Well, I have to get back to work, Vanora... then I have
to go pay respects to my lost love. It was good to see
you again, Neeve. Take care of yourself, Neeria. I hope
we meet again soon."


Ah, so there was hope! “Adian…”, the Briton speeded the
carpenter on his way as he moved to leave the tavern, too. She
gave him a nod as well…while her mind processed what Vanora
had just said. Perhaps it would be the best to give the tavern
manager a few more details about Neeria before the redhead
decided to adopt the Woad in the end.

“Vanora…I have the order to not leave Neeria out of my
sight…”, the healer stated. At least not until Derfel shows
up, she added in thought. “She is…not exactly a guest of
honour at this Fort…”, Neeve then said, if a bit stagnant
while eyeing the still munching Woad for a moment, “…so she
won’t go anywhere without me. But I would be very grateful if
we could come to your house and find her some more fitting
clothes…” With that, she gave Vanora a half-smile before
glancing at Neeria to watch her reaction to this latest
development…









Darya

Tatiana
 
"Hmm? It looks like someone may have gotten royally
chewed out by someone else. I wonder... could that have
been the foul-mouthed soldier that was bothering us
earlier, Darya? I'm just glad that both Jols and Brendyn
were here to act as buffers for us with him around."


Darya chuckled briefly as she watched the soldier coming
closer…and passing them right into the stables. Apparently he
hadn’t even noticed them. Perhaps a good thing. And when the
man rode by, she indeed recognized Karl. Why am I not
surprised?, the Sarmatian thought and arched an eyebrow as her
dark gaze followed rider and horse until they disappeared in
one of the stalls.

“Yep…it’s definitely him. Karl is his name and he is so not a
nice company to have around”, the dark-haired then replied and
gave Tatiana a meaningful look. “Watch out when you happen to
be near him. He is unpredictable…and not in a good way…”, she
added and sniffed quietly. There wasn’t much more she could
tell Tatiana about this particular Roman. She didn’t know him
very well and that was probably a good thing. No, not
probably. Certainly.

From the corner of her eyes, the female Sarmatian then noticed
Mirtha approaching the stables…also entering them without any
greeting. Darya pursed her lips. The stablemaster wasn’t
exactly a cheery company either. He and Karl should get along
with one another quite well. Yet she knew that at least Mirtha
had a rather nice side about him. At least when a
conversation’s topic was about horses…

Tatiana
 
"That sounds like a terrific idea, indeed. Not too sure
how much cold weather is good for an injured hawk. I'll
see you in the tavern, then, Darya."


“Well…or maybe I’ll just accompany you to the tavern first and
get my new feathered friend some meat before I take her to my
room…”, Darya mused and gestured into the tavern’s direction,
“…she looks hungry to me.” The Sarmatian smiled wryly and then
stared to walk. “You coming?”, she asked Tatiana but continued
to move towards the tavern…
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 7:36 am
Quintus and Tristan


Titrus
 
"Oy, some of those crazy bitches fight naked too, didya
know that?"


"Aye." That did draw Quintus out; his lip twitched into a
shadow of a remembered leer at the mental image. That had been
a sight, the first time he had seen it- and it was something
that a man never really got used to. Naked women snarling and
waving swords...it was like something out of a bizarre,
drunken dream.

"They're all too skinny, though...no flesh on 'em. Like
sticks," the Centurion added reflectively, shaking his head
and dropping his eyes to his horse's neck in front of him as
he remembered. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw
Tristan's head nod in agreement, his braids swinging forward
and back.

"You think so too?" Quintus straightened up, aiming the
question at the scout. Tristan talked so little in company,
and especially not about frivolous things like women, that
Quintus was rather surprised that he had reacted at all- and
he was curious and amused at the prospect of the silent scout
holding forth on his opinions about the female of the species.
That would be something to share with his fellows when he got
back- a story to make them laugh, and to satisfy their
curiosity, too. Quintus had known more than a couple of
soldiers who had actually thought that Arthur's best scout was
mute, and communicated with the Commander by some arcane
system of signs, until one day, perhaps months into their
service, they had been privileged to hear him speak. Now,
Tristan took a breath, his face thoughtful, and seemed about
to say something...when there was a closer jingle of bridle
from behind Quintus and Titrus, and Brendyn's rather nervous
voice broke in instead.

Brendyn
 
"Why did Karl...I mean everyone seemed to automatically
dislike him... he did not even bother getting to know
me, and immediately, he took a disliking to me. Why is
that?"


Immediately, Quintus broke into a laugh- a sharp, brief one,
but a laugh nonetheless. Brendyn was such an innocent, he
was...a promising man, but an innocent as yet.

"Karl don't like anyone, Bren." Quintus tossed the words
casually over his shoulder. "He's a bastard, that's all. Best
to stay out of his way." Quintus added that in a fatherly
tone, hoping Brendyn would take the advice to heart. Karl
would eat Brendyn alive, given half a chance.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Eledhwen
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 1:24 pm

Bors


Bors trotted along quietly, bringing up the rear of the small
cavalcade, thoughtful for once instead of loud and obnoxious.
He had been saying goodbye to Vanora, and so had missed the
exchange between Karl and Arthur. It was his farewell to his
woman which kept him quiet. She had seemed a bit preoccupied,
and while Bors wasn't the most sensitive of the male species,
he didn't like it when the mother of his children wasn't
happy. She probably didn't like the fact that he was going out
again so soon after his injury. But then she should know by
now that Bors wasn't a man to be kept locked up inside for
long. He had to be out, doing what he was born to do,
fighting, killing, drinking, more fighting...

He shrugged. She'd get over it. When they got back he'd make
it up to her. Grinning at the thought of what that might
involve, he kicked his mount on so that he just caught the
tail end of the conversation centered around Karl.

Quintus
 
"Karl don't like anyone, Bren. He's a bastard, that's
all. Best to stay out of his way."


"Ha!" Bors barked, grinning at Brendyn. "Ain't that the
truth!"

He, along with probably most of the population of the fort,
had taken an instant dislike to the man. At first he thought
it was just because he was a Roman, but now he knew better...
he was a Roman and a total tosser.

"Anyway, what was that about naked women?" he threw at the
small company in general. "That's far more interestin' than
talkin' about that ugly bastard!"
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golden_trillium

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Author: Unicorn
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 2:12 pm
Mirtha


Karl
 
"Recovered from getting your ass kicked?"


Suddenly Mirtha's head snapped into the direction of a voice
and frowned seeing a Roman soldier, Karl exiting one of the
stalls. What did he want now?

Karl
 
"Don't feel so bad, I got mine kicked today too. Lousy
fuckers."


A frown deepened, but still Mirtha stayed silent. Don't feel
so bad? Kiched ass? Did the man think that Mirtha had only one
problem in his life. He had tones of problems!! He just
oppened his mouth to say that Karl knew shit about him and
that he was not in the mood to hear about Karls' problems!
....the flask. Mirtha caught it and looked at it with a frown
still.

Karl
 
"Here, drink some of this, it'll help. Got any more
around here?"


Stablemaster shook his head slowly, a smile appeared. He took
large gulp of the liquid inside. He cleared his throat and put
a back of his hand to his mouth.

"Strong..." he murmured, taking another sip of it. "Good."

Karl
 
"Don't hog it all now, I want some more,"


Mirtha walked over the manand passed the flask to the Roman.
He leaned over a wall near the place Karl was sitting.

"I might have some more bottles of something fucking good.."
he said and pointed a finger to the stall where his horse
stood. "But I warn you. Don't start telling me about your
fucking problems.. I have a lot of my own"
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 3:56 pm
Amadeus


Arthur
 
“The Senate you say? Hmm,”


Yes, Castus, the Senate of Rome. Amadeus thought with smug
pomp. See how ancient and how elevated my blood is...

Amadeus gave a small nod his head, looking humble despite the
barbed words that stuck in his throat. He said no more on it
though, instead leaving it to Arthur to stew on the words for
surely he would! Surely the Roman Commander would be
interested in a man whose family home was once the Senate of
Rome! Surely... but surely it was only someone who had a mind
like Amadeus' would actually care about a history so far in
the past that few knew it this day. To Amadeus Scipio, a man
of ancient nobility, such things were infinitely important.
And he assumed everyone thought from his frame of reference.

Arthur
 
“Then you are a true native to Britain, something that
we hold in common,”


Arthur's expression was somewhat surprised, Amadeus thought.
He gave yet another smiling inclination of his head and lifted
a hand to push his loose, black hair back from his forehead.
He looked entirely Roman - his overbearing nose, his tanned
skin, his sinewy frame all spoke of a healthy, well-educated
Roman male - and yet yes he was British. As British as Arthur
Castus was save that he had been civilized by many years spent
in Rome. Unlike Castus who was sullied by the taint of
Sarmatian slaves-turned-knights.

Arthur
 
“Then obviously, your father must have been as noble and
magnanimous as my own, So tell me, Amadeus Scipio….how
was it that your father knew mine? Did he also serve in
the Roman army?”


The Optio could not discern the chilly look and for a moment
he was stumped by the icy, almost snide tone that Arthur used
when speaking of his own father. The young Optio frowned a
little and hid his confusion by leaning down to tug a strap of
his saddle tighter to the opposite side of where Arthur sat.
Such a tone was entirely uncalled for, Amadeus thought - and
he could not place where this animosity came from. Nor did he
want to show ignorance by admitting such.

When he sat up again he gave Arthur a wispy looking smile
before responding, feeling guarded just as Arthur began to
feel a kinship.

"My father was a great man. But he was no legend ... like
Uther Castus." at the mentioning of his father's name, Amadeus
looked towards Arthur for a reaction, trying to discover where
this atmosphere came from... "He was a wealthy land-owner
actually. He had many dealings with Badon Hill before you were
born and he was so greatly impressed with the man who is your
father, that he told me tales of his greatness when I was a
boy." Amadeus grinned at the memory. Of course his father had
had a rather cutting opinion of Uther in those final years
when he had taken on the Sarmatians and saw fit to treat them
like soldiers rather than the slaves they were.

With an amused shake of his head, Amadeus rode atop his horse
casually, looking at ease - depending on the eyes and ears of
those accompanying them to warn him of any imminent danger. In
truth there was a part of him that wanted something to go awry
on this mission simply so he could watch Arthur's attempts to
control things. Amadeus glanced over at Arthur briefly, his
grey eyes flickering to the man's side where he knew an injury
lay - how bad that injury was he could not tell, but he did
wonder...

"Tell me Commander... is it true that all who tried to remove
the sword from his grave failed until you, as a boy, took it
during a woad attack with the barest of efforts?" the Optio
asked with a suspicious but amused voice, rubbing his hand
against his wrist for warmth, his eyes intent upon Arthur's
face. He did not know that the incident he spoke of was also
the same incident that saw Arthur orphaned as a young boy.









Galahad

Galahad slid his lower arm against the wooden gate and then
lay the limb lengthways across the top of it. He kept his hand
covering the top of his boot as he waited for the pain to
subside. IT would be just his look to have broken a toe in his
little outburst and then have to suffer the healing
ministrations of the vultures at the infirmary - and then to
listen to the rebuke and lecture on hsi temper. So obsessed
with his own woes right now, Galahad didn't hear Tayala's
approach.

Tayala
 
"Excuse me, sir. Is there something that I could perhaps
help you out with?"


The young knight tossed his head back, his black hair whipping
backawrds to settle quite attractively on top of his head as
he peered with accusing blue eyes at the person who had
sneakily approached him while he was not paying attention. She
was a skinny little thing, Galahad thought immediately,
cocking his eyebrow at her lithe form and the smattering of
childish freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"Who the hell are you..." he asked himself in a mumble, not
recognising her at all though his blue eyes were peering
intently at her. But from the dust and straw in her hair, the
smell of horse on her clothing and the general look of
'belonging' she had, that she worked in teh stables. The
Knight put his foot on the ground and hobbled back a step,
irritably waving his hand at the interruption of the girl.
"No. No there isn't." he said in a snippy tone, turning away
from her and hobbling away two steps. He lifted his hand -
"Actually..." a thought occurred to him and he turned to look
at the girl running his teeth over his bottom lip as he wiped
two fingers over his lightly bearded chin.

"Actually... maybe you can." he said ponderously, still
frowning in stark disgruntlement over Eyla's mockery, Gawain's
treachery, the missing brushes and his throbbing big toe.
The young knight plopped down onto an upturned barrel and
started to pull out the laces of his boots, glancing over at
the girl on occassion as he spoke - "I seem to be missing some
things. A hard-bristled brush? A soft one - a mane comb
too..." he said the words slowly, as if the girl was
dim-witted or some such.







Saoirse

Saoirse was filled with an unnamed dread as she forced Dagonet
onwards. She could feel the pressure he put upon her slight
shoulders, but moreso she could feel the pressure he kept to
himself, she could sense how much of his weakness he held back
and how far he pushed himself. His injuries earlier on before
this latest mission had had him so badly weakened - for it to
be antagonised, coupled with a few more injuries and topped
off with the crushing sorrow of losing his son ... the red
head couldn't help but wonder if he would ever recover fully.
Had the damage been left to fester too long?

An uneasy, heated sickness churned in her gut and she looked
up at Dagonet as they entered the baths. A greyish cast to his
face spoke of intense efforts and Saoirse thought she must
look rather dispirited herself. A tightness about her eyes and
mouth spoke volumes about her reservations on this idea at
all.

Sighing, she tilted inwards, laying her head against the
Knight's sturdy chest and shut her blue eyes. Her arms wrapped
around his back and she huddled in close to his warmth,
breathing in the comforting, if strong, scent of him. It was
the first time in days that she had felt alone with him, that
she had felt able to let down a few of her emotional barriers
and just seek from him what she needed in that moment -
contact.

"I dont know where t'start." she admitted, her voice muffled
against his tunic, her eyes still shut tight as she blocked
out the world and it's scathing dose of reality, "I feel
guilty fer bein' so happy tha' ye came back alive." she
admitted that which scalded her very heart, almostforgetting
their purpose in the bath-house, burying herself in the
freedom of being alone with her lover, finally.









Catherine

Malcus
 
"Indeed it will, my lady. We will be there soon. It's
just up ahead there,"


Indeed they did look like a happy couple dashing through the
winter cold to the warmth of each other's embrace. Anyone
looking at them might have been fooled by appearances - a
handsome man could not have any other wife than a pretty one.
Perhaps someone might be able to overlook just how pretty
Catherine was and just how rogueish Malcus was. The whore did
as she was bid,tucking in tighter to his body with a pleased
sigh as his warmth surrounded her. Oh the wind bit at her
still, causing her pretty cheeks to redden and her blonde hair
to be whipped about her face, but it only added to her beauty.

Malcus
 
"Now my fair maiden, I could tell you what it is, 'tis
true. But perhaps it might be better to show you
instead, Tell me Catherine - yes, I know your name too -
have you ever felt such pleasure that all of your six
senses have been stimulated simultaneously? Hmmmm? And
the pleasure you felt was so overwhelming that your body
went numb and you feared losing consciousness? Now, my
lady, can you imagine that? If so, we must hurry!"


Catherine gave a delighted laugh as the man pulled her around
to stand in front of him. She placed a hand on his chest and
was still giving a breathy laugh as he pulled her in towards
him. She let out a groan of pleasure at his taking control of
the situation, a groan which turned into a moan of
anticipation, her eyelashes fluttering prettily as she felt
the hardness of his groin pressed so wantonly to her own.
Catherine immediately bit down on her bottom lip, playing the
love-struck damsel perfectly. Her hand came around to hold
onto the soldier's hip, holding him tight to her body as she
gyrated her hips once - twice. A smokey look came over her
eyes just as she shut them, leaning her head forward to brush
her lips against his chin as he spoke words of imminent
pleasure to her, promises of imminent pleasure!

At his three questions she gave a shake of her head, no - with
each shake she expired hard breaths of pleasure. When she
opened her eyes she saw him smiling at her. It was a dizzying
smile. For a moment Catherine could almost imagine that they
were as they appeared - just a happy couple, but she knew that
all too soon they would be customer and provider and that she
would have to accept his money and what choice did she have?

"Yes - oh yes." she whispered huskily, reaching down for his
hand and tugging him forward, she trotted a few steps,
encouraging more haste from the Captain to lead the way.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Lancelot
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 5:44 pm
Lancelot


The First Knight sighed as he squinted at the sky. Cloudy,
after the morning's rain, and chilly as it always seemed to be
in Britain. What a lovely country. He rubbed at his arms, his
leather jerkin moving with his motion, and he began to walk
again, the fragrance of his own stink invading his nostrils
once more.

Perhaps Derfel could wait...but no. He had promised Arthur,
and by the gods, but Lancelot would kiss Malcus Barbattus on
the mouth before he would give Arthur the opportunity to find
something amiss with Lancelot's following of his orders. That
strange thought made him smack his lips disgustedly; the mere
idea of letting that Roman near him - he laughed darkly to
himself. Barbattus did not seem the type to seek beauty
wherever he could get it. Lancelot didn't care where his
pleasure came from; he just liked sex, be it from a round,
soft woman, plump lips and juicy...or sometimes, the pain and
hardness that another man could give him was desired - they
fought equally for dominance, most of the time. That was a
different sort of pleasure in and of itself.

Except for one, and that one had almost always been able to be
convinced to play the passive role in those few situations
when Lancelot's love for him had spilled into physical want.
And now ... I am a whore. A whore for my own desires, and fuck
anything that deals in love or attachment.

What do I value now? How can I possibly see anything but
possession and pleasure in regards to sex?

How can I admit that I might see something different - with
him?

Lancelot groaned for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He
stepped up the pace, Arthur's damnable green eyes floating
through his mind's eye, haunting his thoughts, his day, his
body, his everything -

and oh, lovely. There was Darya, the mother of Arthur's child,
and another woman, one Lancelot had seen around Badon for
several years. Hrm. One he'd not had nor even spoken to yet.

Continuing his walk, he approached the two women, taking note
that Darya had Tristan's hawk on her arm. Strange. And then he
found his eyes - the injured one stinging yet - sliding to the
front of her body, and focusing on her belly.

Still flat. Maybe...

A slight shake of his head; Arthur wouldn't lie. Not about
something like that. And Lancelot again cursed that noble,
pig-headed, idiotic straightforwardness and righteousness that
seemed to fill every pore in Arthur's skin. Couldn't he have
chosen to lie to Lancelot - just for once? Granted, Lancelot
would have found out the truth, eventually, obviously - she
would begin to show at some point.

You care so much about this, fool. So, so much. Things are
changing and you can't even see your truth right in front of
your black and blue eye.

He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled, and strode
straight up to Darya and the other woman. Ignoring the state
of his clothing, his face, his attitude, he swept a grand bow
and then stood back up, resting his hand on his hip - if only
to help the leathers stay in place.

Who in the bloody fuck steals trousers???

"Ladies," he said, and smiled charmingly, allowing all of his
teeth to show. "I trust you find this day relatively pleasant?
I do have a duty to perform, but I thought I would be remiss
in my job as defacto leader of Badon if I didn't at least
greet you." He cocked his brow as he looked at the strange
woman. "Madam," he said, his voice slipping into a low
register, "I wish I had more time to make your acquaintance,
but rest assured, once I am done with my orders, I will make
it a point to look you up. I am Lancelot ap Ban, Arthur
Castus' second and your servant."

His gaze canted to Darya as he spoke; would she roll her eyes
and call out his behavior?

Probably. But Lancelot didn't care - he felt his bile rise
again as he met her easy gaze, knowing that what she carried
in her belly -

a future for Arthur. Something he could not provide.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 5:56 pm
Quintus and Tristan


Bors
 
"Ha! Ain't that the truth! Anyway, what was that about
naked women? That's far more interestin' than talkin'
about that ugly bastard!"


That was for sure. Quintus rolled his eyes in agreement, as he
answered the burly knight, raising his voice so that he could
be heard over the whipping wind of their movement. Trees were
beginning to flash by increasingly often; they were nearing
the woods, and the Woads.

"We were talkin' about the Woad girls- they too skinny, or
what? Scout?" Quintus looked back at Tristan expectantly,
eyebrows raised as he awaited an answer to his earlier
question. The Sarmatian tilted his head to the side
consideringly, his gaze into the distance seeming to imply
that he saw a Woad woman out there- and was deciding how to
cook her for dinner.

"Aye," he rasped finally, returning his focus to the here and
now as the horses negotiated a rough patch in the road.
Quintus wobbled in the saddle, uncertainly, but Tristan seemed
hardly to notice- only slightly readjusted the loose hold of
his long, elegant fingers on the reigns.

"I don't mind skinny, but I mind Woads," Tristan elaborated,
his eyes on the other men as he steered Tirgatao around a
half-seen, half-sensed pothole with his knees.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 6:09 pm
Brendyn


He had not wanted to barge in on the conversation, though the
information he gathered was useful... or at least what he had
heard of it. He had asked the question, not so much that he
was curious but he had had run ins with the likes of him
before, and wanted to know some other pertinant information:
like why in the hell someone of Karl's audacity and calibure
had a place in Arthur's Command? The man was just rude and
disrespectful.... any sort of soldier would have been cast to
the dogs back at Aesica. Antonius would never have tolerated
such insolance for one tiny second.

His answer came in a brief, short laugh from Quintus, and he
wondered what had caused the laugh. To him, Karl was a serious
matter: someone who liked others to take the blame for his
wrong doing. Brendyn had been punished once for taking the
blame for such a one, and it was a lesson he still carried
with him... two fingers that had been broken once for the
wrong doing of another. The fingers were slightly crooked, but
every time he looked down at them, Brendyn was reminded making
him wary of such people...

Quintus
 
"Karl don't like anyone, Bren." "He's a bastard, that's
all. Best to stay out of his way."


How anyone could go through life with nothing but hate as his
ally was inconceivable to Brendyn though he had met such
people in his time. He nodded his head, "Sir...I hope I did
not seem weak back there. I have met up with Karl's kind
before, and I just did not care to begin anything. All he
wanted was to start trouble, and I was not going to give him
the satisfaction..." For a brief moment he looked down at the
two crooked fingers, and could not imagine what would have
happened had he really smacked the rude son of a bitch off of
his horse....
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Thu Nov 13, 2008 6:14 pm
Eyla


Gawain
 
"I'm...I'm not.. boring..at least..not really.. "No, I
wouldn't want to leave you alone.”


Well, how delightfully chivalrous! Gawain seemed flustered,
stuck for words, and Eyla pouted up at him. Her small fingers
tugged wantonly at his braids, and she tipped her head to the
side. Several thick curls of dark hair teased its way down her
tanned arms, and she allowed a feline smile to touch her lips.
Leaving Eyla alone was not wise...but then, there was always
someone else to attend to her lusts. She pressed herself
harder into the tall knight’s chest, forcing her breasts
higher in her bodice. Seduction was an artform, but it did not
always have to be subtle. Eyla was used to getting her own way
with men, and today was no exception. She batted her eyelashes
seductively at the knight, and enjoyed watching him grow
nervous, unsure...how very sweet...

She wondered how he'd behave if she offered herself to
him...would he be shy and dignified? Or the sort of man to
roll her onto her stomach, and take animalistic pleasure
between her thighs? The thought caused a dark sparkle in her
eyes, and she gazed up at him, dreamy, mischievous...

Gawain
 
"I'm sure that there's something that we could do
together. Lady, have you ever ridden on a horse before?
"Come, Lady, there's someone that I want you to meet. We
seem to be at quite an unfair disadvantage, you and I as
you know my name but I don't know yours."


“Oh, you want my name do you?” Eyla smiled cheekily, and
glanced down at his offered arm. Rather than taking it, she
placed a firm and small hand onto Gawain’s bottom, and
squeezed rather affectionately. She looked into his sharp
green eyes, and feigned innocence at her fondling. “You’ll
have to earn my name...and yes, I’ve ridden alot...but never
horses...” Eyla threw her head backwards, and burst into a
honeyed fit of laughter. Her eyes sparkled beneath her thick
eyelashes, and she gestured the doorway. Where was he going to
take her? She was intrigued. Indeed, she could guess at the
stables...but she would grant him his illusion. There were
many ways to impress a woman , but whores had seen them all...
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