Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Na The Past. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 8
December 2008
Topic Started: May 28 2010, 01:27 PM (2,121 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Tue Dec 23, 2008 3:07 pm
Isabella


The Lady Isabella Araceli was entirely unimpressed. Her dark
eyes glanced around the dull grey fortress, and her pink lips
pouted in distaste. Her long skirts dragged against the frost
covered ground, and she could hear her pearled hem tinkling
against the floor. This dress had been expensive, and sewn by
the finest artists in the Holy City. An impressive pendant
hung from her delicate throat, and she lifted a hand to cover
it, protectively. Badon Hill was a most disgusting and ugly
place, and full of narrow alleyways and gloomy buildings.
Isabella was familiar with marble pillars looming into the
sky, and golden statues and domes decorating the plaza. The
market place in Jerusalem was exotic, richly spiced and
colourful, and yet in Briton? Isabella saw nothing but one
shabby-looking stall, and she felt the indignance rise in her
throat. Was her father quite mad? To send her to this barbaric
countryside with only a few men...and to be ruled over by a
Sarmatian dog? Isabella looked up at Lancelot through her
thick eyelashes, and almost shuddered. Briton was mocking
propriety, and the Lady felt nervous and vulnerable. She had
brought no ladies-in-waiting, nor any personal
bodyguards...Lord Almighty! She must meet with Arthur, and
then be gone.

As soon as possible.

Lancelot
 
”Lancelot.”


Isabella looked at him, and arched a fine eyebrow into her
hairline. She did not care for the pronunciation of his name,
because she doubted it would be useful. The man was a
Sarmatian soldier, and of little consequence to her. The woman
turned her noble nose up at him, and ignored his efforts. Let
his drunken friends attempt to articulate it properly, let
someone who cared who he was. The noble Lady already found his
presence completely displeasing, and he seemed to think
himself important. Did the man not understand the hierarchy of
nobility? Did he not accept his own position? If Isabella was
braver, she might rebuke his boldness...but she remained
quiet. This country was new to her, and she needed...someone.
The woman wrinkled her nose. And that someone was
Lancelottitee, or however he spoke it.

Lancelot
 
"My lovely lady, this place is an abbhoration to
anywhere, so don't think yourself special, And I must
see this Jerusalem of yours sometime, if it is as
different as it sounds. My own home is far from the
grandeur of the wilds of Britain, I can assure you."
"After you, of course."


Truly? Isabella nodded as she walked ahead of him. Well at
least this barbarian contained some vestige of manners in the
face of propriety. But to think herself special? Isabella was
special, and she was certainly vastly more important than him.
The Lady found herself growing quite hot at his words. With
temper. Who was this man again? Some useless creature employed
to defend Briton, and who clearly had ideas above his station.
The Lady Isabella did not speak, but it took all her strength.
Her pretty pink lips were tightened into a thin and hard line,
and her eyes flared in irritation. They entered the quarters
of the officer’s wives, and she breathed an audible sigh from
her lips. More blunt stone walls, and not a rich carpet or
tapestry in sight. She looked up and down the wall, and
swallowed roughly. It appeared more a prison than living
quarters!

Lancelot
 
"Madam - there is no such thing here but working
fortresses. What did you expect? A castle on a cloud? A
bevy of knights in armour waiting on you hand and foot?
Servants by the score, green fields in constant bloom,
deer and fox running free for your hunting pleasure? I
have to wonder what a great fool your father was to send
you here. Welcome to hell. Arthur will be back when he's
back. He's the fortress commander, and does what he will
no matter any man's opinion. He's making the peace with
the local - tribe, but knowing them, I can imagine he
won't have the best of luck. I had hoped to see him -
them, the rest of the men as well - back within two
days. It's not a far ride - and then, my lady, you can
have the only picture of 'courtliness' here at Badon at
your beck and call. Arthur does have manners," In or
out, love?"


Love?

Oh, but that was final. The man dared to reach out and finger
her fine sleeve, and Isabella’s form visibly straightened. He
spoke boldly, bravely to the daughter of a man who held the
jurisdiction to have him murdered upon sight. A castle upon a
cloud indeed? No, she had not expected such fineries, but she
had expected more than a citadel moulded together by cold
weather and barbarians! Isabella parted her lips, and stood
firmly. She watched him wrestle the door, and fought from
smirking. He could not open such a thing? Indeed, what use was
he? She noted the change in his voice – from flirtation to
cold brutality to...the conversation technique used when
dealing with disease-ridden whores. The Lady Isabella stood
before Lancelot, but did not move into the room. She rather
looked at him, and eyed him up...and down. It was a scrutinous
perusal, and one that clearly ended in disapproval. She lifted
her chin defiantly, confidently, and spoke in a low,
dangerously foreign tone.

“You will call me, My Lady. As nobility dictates, Sarmatian.”
She spoke through her teeth, her foreign tongue shaping each
word thinly. “And you will keep your filthy hands to yourself.
Lord knows where they have been!”

Isabella looked at the knight, and shook her head. A dark curl
came loose from her headdress, and curled into the dip beneath
her chin. It appeared black against her golden skin, and
pretty against the metal of her pendant. She glanced into the
room disapprovingly, and cleared her throat loudly. “Where I
come from, a Sarmatian would never be left in charge of
anything. You should be very grateful that Arthur allowed you
this privilege, but be warned Barbarus* ...do not expect it
to happen again. Not whilst I reside here.” Isabella took one
more glance at the man, and walked into the room. What was she
expecting? Yet more disappointments?

“I suggest you learn some manners.” She spoke over her
shoulder, and turned her back on him.







*Barbarus= barbarian
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Tue Dec 23, 2008 3:21 pm
Darya


Eyla
 
“Or apparently an experience I never sought, sweet one.
If I were you, I’d let the ugly bugger take flight. It’s
clearly making you unhappy...or perhaps that is your
everyday face?”


The female Sarmatian breathed a laugh at Eyla’s first
statement. It was probably a good thing that the whore had
never had to live in the wilderness…since Darya was sure the
other woman would not have survived out there for long. A few
days maybe…at the max. Thus Eyla just could not understand the
beauty of wilderness… This very unique beauty that marked the
people living in it… Maybe that was one of the things Darya
saw especially in Lancelot, too. This dark wilderness that was
so similar to her own… Something that defined them…and that
Rome had not managed to take from them…even though they had
tried. Hard.

Pensively, the woman’s dark gaze lingered on the hawk on her
arm once more…though her thoughts lingered somewhere else for
another moment. “She cannot fly…she’s injured…”, the
dark-haired then heard herself explaining in an almost absent
sounding voice, “…it will take some more days…maybe weeks for
her wing to heal properly. And then she will be the queen of
the skies again…” In her mind, Darya could already see the
hawk circle majestically in the sky again…and the image let a
faint smile tug at her full lips… However, the Sarmatian
decided to ignore Eyla’s remark about her certainly not too
happy face expression. But who could blame her for not being
overjoyed? Under normal circumstances she should be,
yes…especially with a child on its way and one of the best men
on this world being the father. Just that nothing was normal
in her life. And had not been for a very long time. Her
relationship with Arthur was…complicated…and the Roman as well
as she herself had a lot of personal demons to deal with.
Something that sometimes seemed to devour each of them
inwardly. And yet Darya loved Arthur…and often enough prayed
to the Gods to grand them just a moment of light heartedness
every now and then. The light heartedness Eyla was eradiating
so seemingly easily…and openly.

Was that a stab of jealousy the Sarmatian was feeling about
this? This ability?

A small frown briefly creased her brow…

Eyla
 
“Good. It’s freezing out here. So tell me, pretty one,
are you always this unhappy? Has life dealt you an
unfair hand? Because your misery is very dull, you know?
No man wants his bed warmed by the grumpy mistress. It
is very very unattractive.”


Once more shaking her head slightly to herself, the dark
Sarmatian moved on. Luckily, her quarters were not too far
away. She squinted her eyes at another gust of wind…but could
not help but laugh quietly at Eyla’s questions. A sarcastic
laughter though…that faded into a snort. “You have…no idea…”,
Darya just stated and chuckled again. No, Eyla had no idea…but
the Sarmatian had no intention of giving the whore all the
details of her dark complicated life. The other woman would
not understand…and Darya sought distraction, thus was not
willing to get into her past…

“Do not mistake thoughtfulness for misery, Eyla”, the
dark-haired then added and glanced at the smaller woman by her
side, “…not everyone can be as joyful as you are every day…all
day…” With that, the Sarmatian gave the other woman a wry grin
and wondered how the whore was doing that…being at ease all
the time… Even though Darya was sure that her cheeky and
direct way was not always welcome by everyone else. Especially
in the times of war. “And thank you for calling me
unattractive…that is the best way to cheer a woman up…”, the
dark Sarmatian continued and an eyebrow quivered slightly as
she did so, “…but if it is that bad, I’m sure you are the best
person to ask for a way to change that, hm?”

Then the two women entered the building that held the knights'
rooms and headed for Darya’s room. By now, the Sarmatian knew
the way and did not get lost anymore. At least one positive
development…if a more or less marginal one. Soon they reached
her quarter’s door and the dark-haired opened it…gesturing for
Eyla to enter first…
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Wed Dec 24, 2008 12:26 pm
Arthur


Arthur regarded Merlin with great care while he awaited the
Woad leader’s response. The Commander’s posture and expression
were the epitome of patience, nobility and accord despite the
very real concern that this meeting may not go as the Roman
prayed it would. Peace between them would mean quiet days
ahead – no more senseless bloodshed and treachery. With peace
secured, Arthur could return to Badon Keep and turn his full
attentions on the repairs at the fortress – and that of the
care of his lover and her unborn child. His child. And if God
would allow it, fully reconcile with the one that truly held
what was left of Arthur’s heart firmly in his grasp.

A large bird of prey circled overhead as it floated
effortlessly on the icy winds. Arthur, unaware of the injuries
to the bird left back at the fortress, assumed it to be
Tristan’s faithful companion.

The Commander firmly stood his ground with patience still
prevalent on his steely expression…and then Merlin spoke at
last….

Merlin
 
“I have told you what true peace will require, Artorius,
and you have said it is not within your power to command
it.”


“Regrettably, that is so,” Arthur confirmed with an even tone
while the Woad leader paused in his speech. Merlin’s small
shrug and the easiness in his voice yet gave Arthur hope. But
it was not to be…..

Merlin
 
“Therefore, sadly, there can be no peace between us. I
can give you my word that we will not harm you and the
men with you this day. But beyond that I promise
nothing. The lives of all Romans who stay on this island
are forfeit- it is only a matter of time.”


Now it was Arthur’s turn to offer a thinly pleasant smile that
did not quite reach his green eyes. His chin slightly lifted
as the Commander carefully chose his words before speaking.
The wind caught up the long crimson cloak he wore and the
material bellowed in the icy breeze, but Arthur appeared
unaffected by it.

“So be it. I must honor your word and I thank you for the
guarantee of safety for my men on this day,” Arthur answered
with a respectful nod to Merlin before continuing. The
Commander then set his jaw and allowed his hands to fall to
his sides. He knew that it would be futile to press Merlin on
the matter of peace – that was quite evident in the man’s
determined and hardened gaze. Arthur had always held a gift
for ‘reading’ people and he could see the truth in Merlin’s
eyes. No treaty of peace could be had this day. This meeting –
brief as it had been - was at an end.

“I shall lead my men in a peaceful retreat from these woods
along the same path in which we came. And upon my return to
the fortress, I shall send those of your people there in my
care back to you without delay,” Arthur stated with a small
inclination of his head before he turned to grasp at Casti’s
leather halter. The magnificent white stallion lowered his
head to his master and Arthur slid his free hand along the
animal’s jaw line.

“Lady, I must reclaim my mount for the ride…unless you wish to
remain my companion, hm?” Arthur smiled sardonically up at
Guinevere as he addressed the blue painted female. And without
the shelter of his long Roman cloak, her indigo stained thighs
revealed almost all that Guinevere had to offer to any
man….but Arthur respectfully averted his gaze and waited for
the ‘lady’ to dismount as he offered her his outstretched
hand.

Optio Scipio sat still, tall and proud on his mount close at
hand - quietly observing the brief discussion between Roman
Commander and Barbarian Wizard. There was much to learn from
this brief exchange...and much that Amadeus could use to his
advantage.









Derfel

Derfel had followed along just a step behind Lancelot as the
dark knight led their guest towards the building that held the
rooms set aside to house officers’ wives or other visiting
dignitaries.

Lancelot
 
"Madam - there is no such thing here but working fortresses. What did you expect? A castle on a cloud? A bevy of knights in armour waiting on you hand and foot? Servants by the score, green fields in constant bloom, deer and fox running free for your hunting pleasure?  Back within two days. It's not a far ride - and then, my lady, you can have the only picture of 'courtliness' here at Badon at your beck and call. Arthur does have manners. In or out, love?"


Derfel silently prayed to Bel for Arthur’s safe return at the
mention of their Commander and his ride to Merlin. He glanced
back over his shoulder to note the stablehands leading away
the lady’s mount and hopefully seeing to her entourage as
well. Lancelot had said that Derfel was to guard the Woad
prisoner, so he felt fairly confident that he’d not have to
play guide to the opulent Roman men who had arrived with the
lady. He followed after Lancelot as they arrived at the
building and the three of them entered into the torchlit
coridore. Within moments they had arrived at the rooms
Lancelot had chosen for Lady Isabella.

Isabella
 
“You will call me, My Lady. As nobility dictates,
Sarmatian. And you will keep your filthy hands to
yourself. Lord knows where they have been!”


By the gods but Derfel had to bite hard at his own tongue to
keep from laughing out loud at the way this lady dressed down
Lancelot. But he knew that he himself surely appeared no
better in the lady’s eyes – scruffy beard and long disheveled
blonde hair and she could probably guess that Derfel was not
Sarmatian or of noble Roman blood either. The knight was
actually quite glad the discussion had remained strickly
between Lancelot and the Lady Isabella. He rested a hand on
the hilt of his sword and waited while the lady stepped
through the threshold of the rooms.

Isabella
 
“Where I come from, a Sarmatian would never be left in
charge of anything. You should be very grateful that
Arthur allowed you this privilege, but be warned
‘Barbarus’ ...do not expect it to happen again. Not
whilst I reside here……I suggest you learn some manners.”


Derfel’s eyebrows rose to his hairline at the insult, but he
remained silent. Let Lancelot deal with her as it is not my
place. The lady did not know Lancelot, obviously. But Arthur
would sort this out when the Commander returned….if he
returned.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Dec 24, 2008 1:23 pm
Merlin


Arthur
 
“So be it. I must honor your word and I thank you for
the guarantee of safety for my men on this day. I shall
lead my men in a peaceful retreat from these woods along
the same path in which we came. And upon my return to
the fortress, I shall send those of your people there in
my care back to you without delay.”


“Excellent,” Merlin gave Arthur a deep nod of acknowledgement,
his eyes dropping briefly down to the dead-leafy, snow-crusted
ground, then back up again to the Roman Commander- never take
your eyes off your enemy if you could help it. Merlin could
only assume that Arthur referred to Neeria, who was still a
prisoner, and to Fiona- and he would be glad to have them
back, though he still had some questions about Neeria’s
loyalty to ask. Despite that, though…the fewer of his people
behind those stone walls the better. Maybe even Fiona would
have seen the light by now and better understand her people’s
struggle.

“I would do the same if we had any of your people in my
keeping- but fortunately or unfortunately, we do not.”
Merlin’s smile there was once again unpleasant, but brief.
They had taken no prisoners- but they had killed plenty. Many
Woads might have gone to the Gods, but they had taken enough
enemies with them to give Arthur and his men something to
think about. On that slightly sinister note, Merlin took an
accommodating step back as Arthur turned to his horse and took
the white beast’s reins- with a few words for Guinevere, who
still perched on the animal’s back.

Arthur
 
”Lady, I must reclaim my mount for the ride…unless you
wish to remain my companion, hm?”


“My people still have dead to bury honorably, so they will
escort you back to where you met them and then you may be on
your way,” Merlin put in in a soft, steely voice, eying his
daughter, though she was not immediately looking at him.

“Guinevere may ride with you if she so chooses- for this
little time,” the Woad leader continued magnanimously, tilting
his head to one side as he waited for a reaction to that. He
was interested- very interested- to see what she would say,
but at the same time, he wished to limit their interactions
for now- until he had determined whether their connection
could be useful to him or not. In any case, though, this
little ride was an intriguing experiment, and one which Merlin
was content to continue for a while yet. A little while. His
eyes fixed on the unlikely pair, Merlin took another step back
as he gestured to Nolan and the rest of his people to get
ready to turn around and return. They would be watchful,
Merlin knew- they would not allow any false steps, but then,
from Arthur, Merlin did not really expect them. Unlike, say,
from the Optio, Amadeus Scipio, who sat looking down his long
nose at them from his horse nearby. Merlin allowed himself a
small, smug smile in the Optio's direction, before returning
his attention to the matter at hand.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Dec 25, 2008 8:38 am

Ione


The baby kicked with in her making Ione smile slightly, but
warmly. It seemed happy and active, though it did like
attention. The weaver put down her weaving, and leaned back in
her chair comfortably. There were still some parts of her body
that did ache still from her early morning miscarriage, and
sometimes just leaning back to rest made them feel a bit
better. Ione brought her hands to her stomach, and laid them
over where the baby had moved.

The baby kicked at her hand, and Ione had to laugh through her
tears. Some part of her mind told her that this child was
going to be special, and would bring her happiness. Dark
chocolate eyes moved to the bustling scene outside her shop,
but her thoughts went further than the confines of the fort.
To someone who had become a part of her happier thoughts, and
where ever he was, Ione prayed to the Gods that he was safe.

She bit her lower lip as she tried to imagine him coming home:
would he think her foolish if she greeted him the way other
women welcomed their men home, or would he welcome it? Had it
all just been a dream that he had visited her before he
left... some dream her mind had conjured up? If it had been a
dream, it had been a wonderful one. Her hand moved over her
stomach, and the child calmed a bit, though it was still
active.

Clouds moved over the sky with the winter wind moving them
along. The wind always reminded Ione of her own life, though,
not being a deep thinker, really could not corrilate just how,
but she knew it must be true...

Her gaze moved from the gray scene outside to her newly formed
pattern: it looked like a grove of trees against a cream sky.
Ione decided to keep the pattern and add some green for the
leaves and a bit of a flower color for blossoms. Besides
Winter, Ione loved to renewal of life in the Spring time. A
noise outside the window caught her attention, and Ione turned
to see curious little rosy cheeked faces looking in at her and
her work. Ione gave them a smile recognizing Vanora's
children, or at least some of them, then they laughed merrily
and ran off to play. The smile on Ione's face was still there
when a knock sounded at the door. Rising slowly from her loom,
Ione made her way to the door, opened it and saw one of her
customers who had come by to pick up some work Ione had done
for her....

"Won't you come in Flavia?" Ione stepped aside to allow the
woman to enter.

"Is it ready?" The heavy set woman did not greet Ione which
the weaver knew was typical. Flavia was very snobbish and put
on airs of superiority though she was only a soldier's wife.
Ione closed the door behind the woman, and went over to get
the dark blue dress she had fixed. She brought it back to the
woman who looked down her nose at the very pregnant weaver.
Disgusting to see a single pregnant woman! The very idea!
Flavia took the dress and looked it over, and found the work
to her satisfaction, but...

"Very well, weaver, here is the pay for the work," the husky
woman threw some money on the table in front of her, then
turned to leave. "When is your husband coming home?"

The question brought a smile to her face, "He's gone to war."
There was a pause, then. "If there is any other service I can
do for you, let me know." She opened the door politely with a
smile.

Flavia hrumphed and left with no intention of returning.

Ione watched the woman disappear around the corner, then
closed the door, took up the payment for the fixed dress and
locked it in her safe place, and went over to sit by the fire
to rest a bit.

Once again, all was quiet except for the laughter of the
children outside.

In her heart, she heard his laugh and his gentle voice....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri Dec 26, 2008 11:45 am
Mari


The story was inspiring. Mari had never thought of running
away before. Quite the opposite - her father had encouraged
her to strike out on her own but constantly she had gone back
to him, not clinging to him for he would never allow that. But
Mari had remained devotedly to her father's side all these
long years despite his tormenting behaviour. Listening to this
tale was making her wonder. She found herself wondering what
it was like to cut her hair and her hand lifted, twirling
around a lucious brown curl by her shoulder, her eyes wide as
she looked at the page, following Linnette's finger across the
scrawls with fascination.

When they spoke about trousers and the girl wearing them, Mari
let out a surprised laugh. Oh it would be comfortable though,
wouldn't it?!

Their little interlude was soon to be dashed however.
Mari was not a shy girl. Not until quite recently.

When the man came to the table she felt a queasy stirring in
the pit of her stomach. She looked down to the table and her
slender fingers tensed on the wooden table top. He spoke but
she tried not to hear. Worried brown eyes darted to Linnette's
face and she felt tears well in her own eyse. A mixture of
conflicting, terrifying emotions bubbled in her. She knew this
had not been the man to rape her but what was to say that he
wouldn't do so too? Was Linnette safe? Would he hurt them?
Would anyone help?

Linnette pushed him away with two fingers and Mari watched in
fascination. She looked up at the man but looked away
immediately - cowardly not wanting his attention drawn to her.
Though she felt so rotten for it because Linnette was hurting
so bad already with the loss of her husband...

Someone came to their rescue.

When the voices became raised Mari's lips formed a tight line
of worry and dread and she bowed her head. Beneath the table
she reached for Linnette's hand, awkwardly seeking comfort and
a bit of reassurance. More shouting and more men came to their
aid. Mari shook her head, looking away towards the wall, the
back of her head presented to Linnette. The hazel-eyed woman
spoke, reassuring Mari that it wasn't always like that in the
tavern. And Mari gave a short bite of laughter, turning her
tear filled eyes to her, nodding. She bit her bottom lip and
looked over Linnette's blushing face towards the men briefly.

She wanted Milan all of a sudden.

"Do you think we should ... " she asked softly, gesturing
towards the door.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Fri Dec 26, 2008 12:23 pm
Eyla


Eyla’s full lips spilt honey-dripped and flirtatious words.
Her mouth formed each word prettily, and her dark eyes were
ever intense. She was a petite woman, and yet attracted and
demanded attention. Her curvaceous hips swayed as she walked,
and her thick skirts contained the beautiful body within. Her
body was pulled tight around her torso, and forced her bosoms
upwards. They spilled deliciously into view, and yet Eyla
showed little embarrassment. Why should she? Half the fortress
had viewed her offerings, and she would be a rubbish
whore...if she was shy, modest, or reserved. Her skin was
golden, and still glowed with the aftermath of sexual
repletion. Her pretty dark eyes roamed the fortress as she
walked, always seeking richer patrons. Darya, the beautiful
and enigmatic Sarmatian was pleasurable company, and
yet...Eyla was not the loyal type. She was vehemently shallow
and fickle, and would happily drop the nearest for the newest.
It was better that way, safer. Attachment and familiarity
provoked affection, and the whore had no need for it. She
functioned perfectly on her own, and would not change it for
the world...

Darya
 
“She cannot fly…she’s injured…it will take some more
days…maybe weeks for her wing to heal properly. And then
she will be the queen of the skies again…”


Dull. Boring. Pointless. Eyla looked at the other woman, and
lifted her brows incredulously. Clearly Darya needed some man
to rip her clothes off, and pleasure these strange tendencies
out of the Sarmatian. The whore parted her pink lips to speak,
and then decided against it. She laughed. It was a sweet
thing, and she touched Darya’s shoulder in comfort. Poor
woman. She was reduced to having conversations with birds and
wildlife...and that clearly meant she was losing her sanity.
Who spoke to birds? Beggars, barbarians, and those that
were...odd. Eyla watched Darya from beneath thick eyelashes,
and tutted her tongue in disappointment. Oh, but the dark
Sarmatian had such potential to be pretty! Not as pretty as
Eyla herself, but not all women were blessed, were they? There
were certain things she would change about Darya though...she
would certainly give the bird into the care of the cooks, and
then sort out the woman’s dress sense. Bl;ack looked appealing
on men...but on women? Boring. She needed livening up...and
soon. Lord knew Arthur must desire something remotely feminine
in his bed...!

Darya
 
“You have…no idea…Do not mistake thoughtfulness for
misery, Eyla…not everyone can be as joyful as you are
every day…all day…And thank you for calling me
unattractive…that is the best way to cheer a woman
up…but if it is that bad, I’m sure you are the best
person to ask for a way to change that, hm?”


They reached the Sarmatian’s room, and Eyla listened, only
half interested. She wasn’t being paid, after all? Eyla
flicked her long hair over her shoulders, and several dark
curls cascaded down her small and golden back. She lifted a
delicate hand up to her face, and toyed with one of her curls.
Several chunky golden bangles cluttered down to her forearm,
and she smiled to herself. Darya was thoughtful? Just as
boring as misery, hmm? Eyla entered the Sarmatian’s rooms, and
wrinkled her nose at the dull furnishings! Oh, but she must be
a wreck! Keeping ugly black birds for company, and living in a
place such as ....this? Eyla dropped her hands to her hips,
and shook her head in dismay. She heard the woman’s amusement
at being called unattractive, and Eyla did not attempt to heal
that insult. No. Why should she? But...for a change? Eyla
turned her penetrative gaze on the other woman, and arched a
sharp eyebrow into her hairline.

“Oh it is that bad, Darya, but not hopeless. Not yet.” Eyla
was brutal, but did not mean offence. The woman was honest,
and she looked up and down the Sarmatian. In dismay. The woman
was deathly pale. Where would they begin? Eyla walked over to
the Sarmatian, her slippered feet pitter-pattering across the
cold floor. She pointed a finger at the bird. “Firstly, I
would suggest you lose the bird. Out the window...or in the
cook’s stew pot? I do not care. But wildlife has never been a
flattering accessory...” Eyla lifted a hand and touched
Darya’s cheek. It was almost a tender gesture. She cupped the
other woman’s face, and stroked her thumb across the
cheekbone. Both suggestively and experimentally. Eyla was not
attempting to seduce, not yet anyway...rather, she was... “I
also suggest you have a bath. Lavender is the best type of
perfume too. It warms your cockles and makes men weak at the
knees. Which is never a bad thing when confronted with hunger,
poverty...or...” She looked at Eyla and dropped her hand from
the Sarmatian’s face. “...Or loneliness, hmm?”

Eyla looked into Darya’s face, and wore a pitying expression.
Her dark eyes twinkled, but such sympathy only lasted a few
seconds...before she laughed. Sweetly...
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Dec 26, 2008 10:38 pm
Linnette


Mari
 
”Do you think we should…”


“Mmm…” Linnette glanced surreptitiously back at the arguing,
shouting men, then once more scrunched a bit lower in her
chair as she curved her fingers around Mari’s with a
reassuring squeeze- it was her good hand, so that was
possible. The sounds of Malcus’s, Adian’s, and Karl’s voices
was a clamor in her ears, ringing though her head and drowning
out all else- she was quite sure that every eye in the tavern
must be on them, everyone must see that she was the cause of
this disturbance! She really wanted more to disappear than to
move…but as Linnette looked back in Mari’s big, brown eyes,
and saw tears glimmering moistly in them, she realized that
Mari was still frightened, a great deal more than she was. She
shouldn’t have to sit through this- an innocent girl, not four
feet away from yelling, brawling men…Linnette folded her other
hand, the bandaged one, over Mari’s as well and twisted
around, scanning their most logical exit route.

“Yeah..come on.” Linnette let go of Mari’s hand and hastily
pulled the book towards her, then, half-standing up, gathered
all of Maris’ sheets and scraps of drawing paper to her in a
couple of efficient motions, stacking them together and then
tucking the whole mess inside the book; the large sheets stuck
out, of course, but this way they were a good deal more
contained. What Mari really needed was a folder, Linnette
thought inconsequentially as she grabbed for the pencil before
it could roll off the table and held it out to Mari, taking
charge of the book and papers herself. Better than than have
Mari possibly drop them at a crucial moment.

“This way.” Linnette stood up and slid out from between table
and chair, tucking the book and papers safely under one arm
and tossing her cloak hurriedly over her with one hand- it
hung lopsided over her one shoulder that way, but she was not
about to adjust it now. She held out that hand now again for
Mari to take, eying the men warily, the better to stay out of
their way- but not too obviously, with her head bowed.
Hopefully they could just duck by without being noted and make
their escape.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sat Dec 27, 2008 6:26 pm
Adian and Vanora


Vanora watched the whole thing from a safe distance now, and
was a bit sad when she saw Mari and Linnette leave, though
Mari looked a bit distressed at the whole situation... Linnette as well.

Adian was equally as upset to see that the two women had to
leave the tavern. Had it been his fault again? Trying to do
something nice for another and having the whole thing backfire
on you. Why was this day just not worth even getting out of
bed for? Looking from the drunken man, to the dark haired man
who had broken up the fight before he had a chance to teach
the blaggard a lesson in manners. I have no doubt in my mind,
you drunken son of a bitch, that we will meet again, and I
will knock your bloody head into the ground if I ever see you
harass either of those two women, or any other woman here. The
thought rang in his head while he raised his hands in
surrender (this time). He looked to this unknown man who had
spoken with authority in this, wondering why he had been so
upset that Adian had tried to save the two women form this
piece of slug bait.

Vanora watched as Adian moved from Karl knowing that he could
have killed the man, or at least seriously injured him.

From what she had seen of the carpenter, he had a bad temper,
but then so did Malcus. Apparently, Adian did not know who
Malcus was nor Karl, but when the Captain spoke, Adian had
been wise to surrender.

For his part, Adian felt bad that he may have embarrassed
Linnette and the other woman inadvertantly, and for that he
was sorry. It seemed that no matter what good he did,
something just went wrong, or something he said was just not
right. Turning to the dark haired man, Adian said, "I
apologize for my actions, sir..." With his hands easy at his
sides, Adian backed up toward his chair and took up his cloak
as well as the tool he had come to retrieve. "I will take my
leave, and get back to my work." Looking back at Tatiana who
had remained silent, Adian turned back to the drunken Karl,
and narrowed his eyes letting the man know that he'd be
watching him, lastly, Adian turned back to the dark haired man
and bowed slightly in respect....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sun Dec 28, 2008 1:01 pm
Darya


When they entered her room, Darya frowned slightly at Eyla’s
reaction. After all, the other woman had been here before…and
should know what the quarters looked like. No, they did not
really give away that a woman was staying here…it was rather
dark with not much furniture and there was not much of
decoration of any kind in it either. A few candles and a few
extra pillows. All else was plain and practical. Pretty much
like in…

Dear Gods, make me forget this thought immediately…

But it was hard to deny: her room was anything but
female…until one looked into the drawers. It was just another
room among all the others around that belonged to the knights,
of which she had seen only Lancelot’s from the inside so far.
And their rooms had a lot in common. The female Sarmatian’s
frown deepened at this and she wondered if this little maybe
insignificant fact was good or bad. Her only other comparison
was Arthur’s quarters…but those did not count. He was the
Commander and Roman…his quarters were large and really
comfortable; just as it should be.

Darya shook her head to herself and wondered when exactly she
had started to care about what the place she was staying at
looked like. It was fine to her; better than anything she had
had before. And yet Eyla’s obvious disapproving of it was
bugging her for some reason. Was it because of the whore’s
earlier 'unattractive'-statement? Was it…?

Then two small hands cupped her face and Darya lowered her
gaze a little to meet Eyla’s…

Eyla
 
“Oh it is that bad, Darya, but not hopeless. Not yet.
Firstly, I would suggest you lose the bird. Out the
window...or in the cook’s stew pot? I do not care. But
wildlife has never been a flattering accessory... I also
suggest you have a bath. Lavender is the best type of
perfume too. It warms your cockles and makes men weak at
the knees. Which is never a bad thing when confronted
with hunger, poverty...or... Or loneliness, hmm?”


A while ago, any person talking to her the way Eyla was doing
right now – very close to, if not insulting – would have
seriously played with his or her life. Also she had to swallow
a comment regarding wildlife actually being a quite flattering
accessory where she came from. However, nowadays the Sarmatian
mostly knew how to control her temper…more or less. Instead
Darya had no idea how to react in this specific case right
now. A confusing, perhaps slightly annoying, yet wonderfully
distracting situation for her. And even though the dark-haired
was not totally convinced yet, it sort of did dawn on her that
maybe it would not hurt to change a few things about her
looks. Pursing her lips a little, Darya tipped her head to a
side and gave Eyla’s words serious second thoughts. Things
would change for her anyway in a very near future. Her
appearance would change…all coming along with the new life
that was growing inside her womb. And who knew…maybe Arthur
would actually like a few changes in her way of dressing and
such? She could start small…and see how things work, right? As
so long as Eyla would only help her to change something about
her looks…and perhaps lighten her attitude…so be it…

The female Sarmatian sighed when the other woman let go of her
face again. “Very well…”, Darya finally said and gave Eyla a
brief yet honest smile before brushing past the whore to walk
towards the window. She let Tristan’s hawk perch itself on the
window-sill, welcoming the loss of its weight on her arm, and
adjusted the drapery of her ruby-black coloured dress before
turning around to face Eyla again. “But the bird is going
nowhere but remains here…”, she then added with a slightly
arched eyebrow, “…the last thing I need is Tristan being angry
with me.” With that, the dark-haired smirked slightly and put
a hand on her hip. “And a bath is exactly what I had in mind
anyway, “a pause and Darya could not help but point a finger
at Eyla, “you are up for quite a challenge if you truly think
I’m not a totally lost case yet…” Then she stood right before
the other woman again dared to wind one of Eyla’s long locks
about her index-finger before letting it spring back into its
actually place again. “You think you are ready for such a
different…challenge?”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Dec 28, 2008 10:50 pm
Brendyn


Things were quiet and tense for a moment, and Brendyn studied
those who had also fallen silent about him.

One thing was sure, if Merlin did not take peace, he was a
fool risking more innocent lives to death and war.

The soldier shifted slightly in his saddle and left his one
hand rest on his upper leg while holding the reins in the
other. He was just dog tired, and wanted nothing more than to
crawl under some worm blankets and go to sleep until his next
night watch, or whatever duty awaited him back at the fort. In
the midst of the tenseness, Brendyn had had a chance to look
about him at the tall firs and just take in the natural beauty
of the forest around them. He had forgotten how lovely forests
were....

Merlin
 
“I have told you what true peace will require, Artorius,
and you have said it is not within your power to command
it.”


Arthur
 
“Regrettably, that is so,”


Merlin
 
“Therefore, sadly, there can be no peace between us. I
can give you my word that we will not harm you and the
men with you this day. But beyond that I promise
nothing. The lives of all Romans who stay on this island
are forfeit- it is only a matter of time.”


Arthur
 
“So be it. I must honor your word and I thank you for
the guarantee of safety for my men on this day,” “I
shall lead my men in a peaceful retreat from these woods
along the same path in which we came. And upon my return
to the fortress, I shall send those of your people there
in my care back to you without delay,” “Lady, I must
reclaim my mount for the ride…unless you wish to remain
my companion, hm?”


Merlin
 
“Excellent,” “I would do the same if we had any of your
people in my keeping- but fortunately or unfortunately,
we do not.”


Brendyn eyed the woad leader cautiously, his eyes moving to
the woads standing about, eyes transfixed on their fearless
leader. So the prisoners at the fort were to be left go, well
two had already escaped, but were there others hiding or being
kept there?

Had he heard right? There was to be no peace? Whatever had
happened here the day before, Brendyn was sure that it had
something to do with the woad leader's decision. he did not
let his disappointment show, and wondered if Arthur felt the
same disappointment. He could not see the Roman Commander's
face, but felt there had to be some sort of disappointment
there. Brendyn's eyes were alert now watching to see if any of
the blue devils would dare go back on Merlin's word, but he
also kept his eyes on Arthur as he addressed Guinevere though
he really could not hear what was said. Tyranus pawed at the
frozen earth again, and shook his black head letting the wind
play through his long mane. Brendyn reached out and stroked
the horse's neck and made ready to follow Arthur out of the
forest when he gave the signal to do so. The mission had, to
Brendyn, accomplished nothing, but instead showed a Commander
that he was proud to serve.

Arthur was everything Antonius had said he was....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Dec 29, 2008 5:40 am
Amadeus


Try as he might to appear non-plussed by this meet & greet,
Amadeus couldn't keep the slight curl of his lips away when he
looked at Merlin. Here was everything that Rome despised,
everything that Rome sought to eradicate from the world. He
was a mere man and yet he was viewed as some kind of warlock,
a wizard, a black magician. He was pagan and he was unwilling
to recognise the might and strength and God-given right of
Rome to be in control. Did this Briton not realise that his
country and his people would benefit from Rome's influence?
They could be civilised... Merlin himself might be given some
villa to the north with ample lands and servants and a damn
bath too!

The young Optio started to chew the inside of his cheek as he
lisened to Arthur. He ensured he was close enough and felt a
sickening bilious surge to his throat at how Arthur phrased
certain things. It was as if he thought that Merlin was due
any respect at all. Of course it might have been a show, a
mere device to ensure that Merlin did hsi bidding, but when
the magician declined Arthur's 'request' Amadeus knew that
that was not the case. His grey eyes dropped and he pursed his
lips, long, slender fingers curling around the leather strap
of the reins.

Oh it was a terribly gracious affair but it galled...

Amadeus looked up. He looked at Guinevere darkly and then down
at Arthur who was accepting this defeat meekly. With no
threats, no defiance, no utterings of Rome's good intentions
or Rome's might!

Arthur
 
“I shall lead my men in a peaceful retreat from these
woods along the same path in which we came. And upon my
return to the fortress, I shall send those of your
people there in my care back to you without delay,”


Well at least that Amadeus could agree and subscribe to. He
gave a stiff nod of his head, relishing the thought of turning
the woad from teh fortress out into the cold winter forest.
Let them fend for themselves! Let them return to their leader
disgraced and traitorous! And let him deal with them as only a
barbarian could do.

The Optio straightened in his saddle, looking to Arthur as he
approached his horse once more. He glanced over his shoulder
to ensure the other men were prepared, his eyes inadvertently
scanning the woads that surrounded them too. It was easy to
forget that they were there so still and quiet did they stand.
He shifted in the saddle, readying for their departure, eager
to return to Badon for he had a letter to dispatch. One that
only he could send on it's way.









Galahad

Galahad did feel bad that he had made the kid cry but he
couldn't force himself to wallow in that feeling when he had
so many other more interesting and self-torturing miseries to
wallow in instead. His gentle blue eyes were filled with a
despondent light, an unwillingess to do anything for himself.
He walked a bit lopsidedly for a while then threw his boot
onto teh ground and stuffed his foot into it. He still walked
a bit stiffly, a wave of lines across his forehead as he came
to terms with the new stiffnesses and aches that his body had
aqcuired during this last mission. Of course alot of his aches
and pains right now were because of his inebriated scuffle
with Kolya, Lancelot & Gawain but that didn't mean it wasn't
part and parcel of hsi service to Rome.

The young knight could blame Rome for Alina betraying him
because he had been sent off to some battle that had little to
nothing to do with him and whilst he was gone his woman had
sought the company of a man who was around more often than he
was. Did he blame her? Yeah! Did he blame Kolya? Hell yeah!
And did he blame Rome? Of course he did.

Scowling, the young Sarmatian looked up and saw Lancelot and
Derfel walking across the courtyard with a noble woman. The
knight stopped and goggled at her a moment but carried on on
his way when they disappeared out of sight. He wasn't sure he
would be welcomed by Lancelot right now. Or Gawain.
Pouting, Galahad decided to just go to the fortress kitchens
and see if there was any food to be had there. It meant he
wouldn't have to make small talk with anyone in the tavern.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Dec 29, 2008 4:46 pm
Neeria


Neeria looked at the tall healer walking next to her. The
woman was quite beautiful with her strange, short-cut hair and
piercing blue eyes. There was a sadness about her that was
clear and Neeria couldn't help but wonder about the other
woman's life and what could have caused her sadness. Neeve was
probably another victim of the war whose friends and relatives
had been killed one way or another. Maybe Neeve once had a
husband, a father, brother, cousin, uncle...someone that had
been viciously murdered in front of her. Maybe the healer,
herself, had been hurt or injured in the war. Perhaps any one
of those things, if not all of them, were the cause of Neeve's
hidden sadness.

Neeria knew all about sadness. It was a familiar friend to her
weary, war-torn heart. Sadness is what drove her to violence
but it is also what drove her to want a different life. Mikal
could never come back. He could never love and protect her
again and she would never bear his son. Yes, sadness was
etched in stone in her weary soul but Neeria was a survivor.
She would make it, make a new life for herself, and if that
meant she had to remain here, among her former? enemies, then
so be it.

But the woad knew she wasn't wanted by these people, the dark
knight and Neeve had made that clear. Neeria wanted a life of
peace, and she would prefer that life with her own kin but she
was sure they would never allow her to return to them.
Neeria's heart skipped a beat when she thought of Merlin. She
missed him terribly, she longed to talk to him, to be with him
again. She needed to hear his voice, talk to Guinevere and
Mona. A lump formed in her throat which caused her to swallow
hard and push down the pain in her chest.

Neeria knew she was lucky to be alive, and being here behind
the Wall wasn't as bad a fate that had met Mikel and Sirus.
She'd lost so many that she'd once loved and fought beside.
Sadness

Neeve
 
“They don’t exist...And yes, I will rewrap you…sine the
water should clean the injury even more, I don’t think
more salve will be necessary for now. If you don’t try
to attack anyone again in the next days, the wound
should be healed soon...Anything else?”


A sudden burst of warm air shook Neeria out of her thoughts.
She and Neeve stood in front of a tall building of obvious
Roman construction. There were tall columns in front and a
bust of some noble mounted on a shorter column just beside the
door. Neeria scrunched her nose up like she smelled something
awful. Romans. Bastards! All of them. Arthur was half Roman
but his native half seemed to dictate his heart. He was
merciful - something Neeria had not known about him. Arthur
had been merciful to her, that much she recognized. He could
have killed her on the spot when she'd attacked him and he'd
gained control. To hell with her offer to take him to Merlin,
Arthur had spared her life and that still held a measure of
disbelief to the woad. So why is he still loyal to the Roman
devil? she wondered. You cannot serve two masters, Artorius.

"I don't believe you, healer," Neeria said and smiled wickedly
at Neeve. "Everyone has or had someone, somewhere,"

The woad pushed the thoughts of Arthur, Mikel, Sirus, Merlin -
all of that - down into the pit of her stomach as Neeve held
the door of the baths open for her. Neeria cowered somewhat as
they walked into the warm building, a stark contrast to the
blistering cold outside. Neeria followed Neeve through the
room, looking about, taking in everything. Despite herself,
she was almost giddy at the prospect of relieving herself and
taking off her filthy clothes.

"When can I take off these things?" she asked Neeve, barely
giving the healer time to answer before she began to pull at
the tunic she wore.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon Dec 29, 2008 5:45 pm
Lancelot


The Sarmatian could feel Derfel at his back as the 'lady'
spoke, could feel his cheeks betraying him by heating at the
dressing down in her tone, could feel his blood beginning to
boil like it hadn't since Arthur had gone on his mission. The
mission that might mean the end of Lancelot as well - and if
Arthur were gone, then Lancelot was fine with that future for
himself. At this moment - if the world blinked out of
existance and took him with it, that would be better than the
words this strange woman was speaking to him.

Isabella
 
“You will call me, My Lady. As nobility dictates,
Sarmatian. And you will keep your filthy hands to
yourself. Lord knows where they have been! Where I come
from, a Sarmatian would never be left in charge of
anything. You should be very grateful that Arthur
allowed you this privilege, but be warned ‘Barbarus’
...do not expect it to happen again. Not whilst I reside
here. I suggest you learn some manners.”


Black spots swam behind his eyes, and Lancelot had to fight
with everything he had to not draw his sword.

Instead, he laughed. Long, and deeply, and he shook his head
as the woman kept her back to him as she examined the room.
"Then I fear you have no experience with Sarmatians, love, and
you have no idea what truly goes on in the world. A sheltered,
pitiable, beautiful, caged bird," his tone tripped up and down
his register, sounding for all the world like the winged
creature he'd compared Isabella to. He pushed past her men and
Derfel, and bowed formally and perfectly. "I have my own duty
to attend to - and it does not include watching over
ungrateful and surprise guests. I leave you to Arthur when he
returns, lady. Perhaps Cadarn here will take pity on you and
send his woman to assist you. A fine and pleasant day to you,
Lady Isabella Araceli. Welcome most humbly to my home."

He turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving her where
she was. He didn't care anymore - no woman spoke to him like
that! No one showed up unexpectedly and surprised him when he
had plenty of other things on his plate! For fuck's sake,
could he bathe???

"Derfel," he barked, and then sighed as he gained the door
that lead to the courtyard. "I'll send someone to see to her.
A page, or something. Come on - let's get to our real duty
before I decide to use her luggage as a practice dummy for
this sword."

He drew it at last, and taking a few broad swings - as best he
could at the edge of the door - he allowed himself to breathe
as he waited for the other knight.

I am done with others. I will follow Arthur's second directive
- and take care of myself for a moment.

If only to see myself clean before - if I have to - ride to
the Magician.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Dec 30, 2008 9:59 am
Adian and Vanora


Vanora looked about at all of those who had stopped eating to
gawk at the fight which Malcus had broken up, or so she
thought. Sometimes men took their fights elsewhere, or so Bors
had told her. Right now, Adian and Malcus both looked like
storm clouds competing for a spot to storm on. While Mari and
Linnette made ready to just leave the "party" which Vanora did
not blame them.

Adian was embarrassed and livid. His narrowed eyes lingered on
Karl a few moments more, before grabbing his cloak and the
tool he had come to retrieve. He was heartily sorry for having
caused Linnette and the other woman embarrassment, and ruining
their good time. Adian, who usually knew what to say, said
nothing, but offered them an apologetic look, and left the
tavern pissed as all hell. So much for trying to do something
nice for someone else.

The drunken man, Karl and he would meet again, and the next
time, he'd beat the tar out of the man.

Stepping out into the chilled air did not cool the red hot
anger still inside him. The young carpenter moved to the area
he had been working on for a while, and flung his cloak to the
back of the cart before returning to fix the ruined storage
bin....
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Create a free forum in seconds.
Learn More · Register for Free
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Vincit Omnia Veritas · Next Topic »
Add Reply
  • Pages:
  • 1
  • 8

Christmas Theme made by Pandorasaurus of Zathyus Network Resources and Graphic Force.