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January 2009
Topic Started: Jun 3 2010, 01:14 PM (1,513 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Jan 09, 2009 9:14 pm
Brendyn


Titrus
 
"Quintus, Bors!" "I'm a man of my word. Drinks on me, if
you're interested, once we get finished here. What do
you think?"


Brendyn thought the sound of a drink and food sounded great,
but perhaps Titrus had not known that Bors had asked him to go
as well. Tyranus pawed at the ground with a black hoof, and
bobbed his head up and down, his mane flowing about. Brendyn
reached down and stroked the animal's neck to let him know
that he had done well, and that a treat would be in store for
him once in the stall. Once Arthur dismounted, Brendyn
followed suit. It was something he had been taught: Commander
dismounts first, then the rest of the men... Antonius would
say. He gave Tyranus's reins to a stable boy who waited
nearby, and gave him instructions for a bit more oats for the
arab mix. The boy nodded gladly, and Brendyn gave him a smile
as the horse was led away.

Tyrnaus nudged the boy already looking for a treat.

The mooch Brendyn thought with a smile.

His attention turned back to Arthur as those on the mission
gathered about him...

Arthur
 
“Gentlemen!” “Go to your rest tonight…no one deserves it
more,” “May God keep you,”


Brendyn's eyes roved to each that stood in the group. At
first, he had not been quite sure what kinds of men he was to
work with, now he knew them as men of courage and loyalty, and
it made him proud that Antonius had had him transfered to this
fort under such a Commander as Arthur Castus. The young
soldier bowed his head as Arthur said "May God Keep you." As
Arthur left with the Optio whom he had not had the pleasure to
meet, he sort of stood back from the rest of the group as his
stomach complained. He turned and watched the stable boy who
was pampering the heck out of Tyranus who loved every moment
of it, then turned to the others, "Well, I don't know about
all of you, but I am starved." He took off his helmet and held
it at his side waiting for the others.

Food, drink, and sleep.

That was all he desired for with the night came dreams of his
sweet Veronica...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 12:35 pm
Mari and Saoirse


Dagonet
 
"Linnette.. Stop apologizing. I agreed to help."


They were all very nice people. But Mari still felt rather odd
sitting there amongst them. She wasn't family and she was
conscious of that fact. Dagonet had lost a son, Linnette had
lost a husband, Saoirse had not lost anyone but she was
Dagonet's partner and so would feel that loss through him -
but what had Mari lost? She had not even known Gedeon and yet
she sat there in front of the man's father and sought to
create a likeness of him. To think on it like that was quite
daunting and Mari's hand accidentally smudged the pencil line
she had just drawn.

"Oops.." she whispered, biting the edge of her lip. Dagonet's
soft words made her lift her eyes and she looked at him, a
faint smile beginning on her lips. He was not handsome by
strict definition - but there was a gentleness about him when
he spoke like that. His voice was comforting, consoling - it
was not what she would expect from a man his size. There was a
ferocity there too. Perhaps it was the scar on his head - the
one that stretched from his shaven head down to the centre of
his cheek where it disappeared into his unshaven jaw.

Linnette
 
“I know. Sor… Here! It’s called Gloriana, a Tale of
Adventure,”


Mari glanced over her shoulder when Linnette shouted 'here'.
She blinked owlishly as the woman grabbed the book and opened
it up. Her face brightened considerably and she smiled warmly
at the hazel-eyed woman. She turned back to Dagonet, beaming
brightly at him as she set back to drawing with a renewed
enthusiasm. She turned a page and started anew, narrowing her
eyes now and then. She was listening to the story and gave a
small titter of laughter even though she had just heard these
pieces not long ago in the tavern.

Getting comfortable, she pulled her knees up to her chest and
placed her feet on the chair. She placed the pages on her
thighs and looked closely at what she was drawing - focussing
her dark eyes on Dagonet more often than the page so that,
when Linnette finished the first page she had drawn quite a
decent likeness of the old Sarmatian Knight.

Saoirse watched it all from a distance. She kept a close eye
on Dagonet, wishing he had not agreed to this at all. Not that
she didn't want Linnette to have this - but because the red
head wanted time with her lover and that was proving more and
more difficult. When Linnette began to read Saoirse was
greatful. It did go a bit of the way to easing the awkwardness
in the room. The Irishwoman wandered about the room, putting
bits and pieces in their rightful places. She took out her
three spears from their place in the corner and sat herself up
on the edge of teh bedside table, one booted foot stretched
out to the windowsill. She had a whittling knife and started
to slowly, painstakingly and lovingly carve along the shaft,
listening to the story and Mari's soft laughter and quiet
scribblings.

When Linnette came to the end of the first page Saoirse
glanced over at Mari who was chewing the inside of her cheek
thoughtfully. Feeling Saoirse's eyes on her, the young woman
looked up and smiled nervously.

"I think I have what I need.." she said shyly, looking over
her shoulder at Linnette.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 1:55 pm
Neeve


Derfel
 
“Tavern sounds a right good place to me,”


Neeria
 
"She is standing right here, yet you talk as though she
is not! I am hungry and I would like to eat…please."


Derfel
 
“Then off we go, aye?”


Neeve returned Neeria’s icy stare with her own and lifted her
chin slightly. “Mind your tongue, Woad…”, she then said firmly
and narrowed her eyes a little, “…do not forget your place
here…” The healer began to feel that being in a prisoner’s
company all day had tired her more than she had thought. And
with that, her patience with Neeria was almost completely
gone. Neeve needed a break…desperately. So maybe she could
sneak away once they had reached the tavern…again. “The tavern
it is then…”, the Briton added with a nod…

…and just when she prepared herself to exit the bath-house and
face the cold outside again, Neeria suddenly seemed to be
fascinated by Derfel’s clothes and his sword. Neeve frowned
but listened to the brief exchange between the two…at first.
However, something then seemed to disturb the Woad as she
freaked out all for sudden…

Neeria
 
"You! Do you know this man well, healer? Don't leave me
with him! He is a Saxon!"


Derfel
 
“I am Arthur’s knight and charged with minding you
t’night…so you’d best be watchin’ your manners, miss.
After you, ladies,”


What the hell?

The raven-haired woman briefly glanced at heavens before
putting her hands on her hips. Neeve stiffly licked her lips
and took a deep breath. Just a bit more patience… “Derfel is
an honourable man and – like he said – one of Arthur Castus'
knights. And trust me, Neeria, you can be more than glad that
he is the one assigned to guard you…since some of the others
would certainly be less patient with you. Especially if they
knew why you are here...”, the healer warned in an
uncomfortably chilly voice that surely somewhat gave away that
she was in no mood for discussions, “…he does not mean any
harm to you…unless you give him reason to.”

With that, Neeve’s blue gaze shifted towards the Saxon and a
corner of her mouth twitched slightly. She thought Derfel to
be a rather calm nature…but she would totally understand it
should he get angry with their prisoner. And perhaps the Saxon
now could also begin to understand why she was somewhat
exhausted by now.

“Anyway…the tavern it is now. Maybe dinner will help to calm
us all down again…”, the healer added with a sigh and turned
on her heels to do as Derfel had gestured her to…to lead the
small group out of this building…when…










Darya

The two women walked through wind, snow and darkness. But
other than Eyla, Darya was wearing warm yet almost elegant
tight boots that kept her feet dry and warm. The female
Sarmatian did notice that the whore was not exactly dressed
for being outside…another thing that probably came with her
job. Briefly she considered lending the other woman her
cloak…but then the bath-house already came into sight and
Darya wondered if Eyla would really answer her question.

Eyla
 
“Whatever for? I am a whore. I pleasure men for money
and I enjoy lifting my skirts for anyone and everyone. I
was born in Heaven, you know? And my first kiss was with
an angel...”


There it was again…this interesting singsong in the whore’s
voice that made at least a few hairs at the back of Darya’s –
and certainly not only hers – neck stand on end. And even
though Eyla’s reply once again sounded as if she was merely
making fun of Darya and even herself, the Sarmatian extracted
some information from them. She arched an eyebrow at the other
woman and smirked slightly to herself. It was almost funny to
hear the whore talk about having been born in heaven and
kissed by angel…since Arthur usually called her just that.
Clearly, the dark-haired remembered when the Roman had tried
to explain to her what angels were…and why that made him think
of her as one. But this was nothing to share with Eyla. This
was a precious and private memory which Darya savored quite
often…

Anyway, she should not delve into memories now. She wanted a
bath…and she wanted to learn how to take life easier. At least
whenever possible. And how to be more…feminine.

“It would have just been…nice…”, Darya finally replied in a
low voice and shook her now damp hair back, “…especially since
your words make me wonder if being a whore already is
everything you want from the life…” A wry smile tugged at the
Sarmatian’s full lips but she did not really expect a serious
answer from Eyla…at least not now. Then she gestured for the
whore to move on to walk over to the ladies’ area… “Shall we?”

However, after a few more steps, Darya heard voices and lifted
her dark gaze to notice three figures standing by the thick
curtain that divided the men’s area from the ladies part. She
recognized Derfel…and Neeve with her short black hair. But
there was another woman with them that she could not recall to
have seen before…and was it just her or did that woman look a
lot like a Woad? A frown creased the female Sarmatian’s brow
as she and Eyla approached the small group which they would
have to pass to reach the pool. Briefly, she glanced at Eyla
by her side…and then greeted the two persons she knew.
“Derfel…”, she nodded, “…Neeve…” Yet her eyes silently asked
them who the third person of their group was…and whether or
not the three were leaving or had only just arrived. To be
honest, Darya would be overly grateful to not have to take a
bath in a crowded room; it was the loner in her that made her
feel that way…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 3:17 pm
Arthur


The moody evening sky continued to let loose a steady stream
of heavy white flakes from above. The fortress would easily be
covered in blankets of linen white snow by morning. Thank God
that Arthur and his men had avoided having to make camp out in
the frozen woodlands by reaching the Keep at Camboglanna in
time to sleep in their own beds tonight. God was merciful on
some points at least.

Amadeus
 
"I presume we can expect a lull somewhat from the woads
for some time?"


“Perhaps,” Arthur answered with a small nod in agreement with
Amadeus’ assessment as the two men walked onwards towards the
tall structure of stone that housed the private quarters of
the officers. No one interrupted the two officers and for that
blessing, Arthur was indeed thankful for once. The Commander
wanted nothing more than to reach his chambers and pray to God
for the safe return of his men before sleep would take his
tired and weary mind tonight. But there was no true peace in
finding his own bed this night.

Merlin was unpredictable – having proved that yet again
tonight with his refusal for peace between he and Arthur. And
if Guinevere had been truthful in her quiet whispered words
earlier, the Woad leader’s decision had been based on
superstition and not anything sensible or tangible. Thus
Arthur could only surmise that another attack would come at
any time.

Amadeus
 
"They looked fairly battered and depleted - I can't
think that Merlin would risk another attack so soon."


“Certainly that is what appeared to be. However, if I am to
understand Merlin’s daughter…what drove Merlin to attack was
not strategy, retaliation or logic,” Arthur explained with a
brief glance over at Amadeus who was attempting to stifle a
yawn at that very moment. The Commander responded in kind and
suddenly realized that his green eyes were burning in their
exhaustion as well. The two men reached the steps to the
building and quickly ascended them to escape the steady
falling snow and chilly biting evening air.

“It seems that Merlin chose to make his assault on us based
solely on the council of the gods,” Arthur further explained
as he made use of both his hands and brushed the worst of the
snow from his vambraces and shoulders before he stepped
completely through the threshold of the building.

“Alea iacta est,”* Arthur added with a stern expression on his
chiseled face and the mark of deep concern shimmering in his
emerald eyes. “Merlin has made his position clear and thus we
shall have no rest despite the winter,” Worry certainly
touched Arthur. He had a weakened fortress to defend, tired
men badly in need of rest, and insufficient stores to feed its
inhabitants through the remainder of a harsh British winter.

…and that was only part of the apprehension that the Roman
faced. Arthur had a child to consider now - his child.

Arthur lifted his arm and rested the palm of his hand on
Amadeus’ shoulder as they walked alongside one another down
the empty corridor. The golden flicker of torchlight showed
the way and the thick oversized wooden door protecting
Arthur’s private chambers was only a few paces more.

“You are a fine officer, Amadeus. And I shall certainly be
dependent upon your skills as we must prepare for treachery
from the Woads – possibly as soon as the rising of tomorrow’s
sun,” Arthur gave a small reassuring squeeze at the other
man’s shoulder and then reinforced the motion with a small
smile. The Commander was beginning to like this new Optio. The
man had remained composed and in control under the days’
conflicts and had thus far communicated with learned diplomacy
and respect. Perhaps Arthur would give Amadeus a little more
responsibility here at Badon.




*=The die has been cast.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 5:44 pm
Quintus


Titrus
 
”Quintus, Bors! I’m a man of my word. Drinks on me, if
you’re interested, once we get finished here. What do
you think?”


“Aye, that’d be welcome,” Quintus called back as he discreetly
shook one leg, still working the saddle stiffness out of the
muscles. In the back of his mind he still felt a bit miffed
about the situation with himself, Karl, and Titrus before they
had left that morning, but really…a drink was a drink, and
Quintus was glad enough just to be back safe that he was
disposed to be forgiving. He blinked snowflakes out of his
eyes- they were falling faster now, and bigger, too- as
Arthur, having dismounted, addressed the group. His expression
was its usual when speaking to many, kind, yet clearly
expecting obedience, and gave no hint that the late
negotiations had been totally unsuccessful. Still, Quintus did
note that Arthur did not exactly comment on the day’s
activities, either.

Arthur
 
“Gentlemen! Go to your rest tonight…no one deserves it
more. May God keep you. Optio Scipio, walk with me.”


Brendyn
 
"Well, I don't know about all of you, but I am starved."


“You said it, lad,” Quintus put in as Commander and Optio
moved away, talking quietly, and as the rest of the group
began to disperse. That appeared to be that- most of a day
mostly wasted, no agreement of any kind with the Woads. And
Quintus still had extra duties to look forward to in the
coming days, because of that slip of a Woad girl the day
before. A drink and some food and relaxation were called for
indeed, and now the Centurion turned his steps toward the
tavern along with Brendyn, Titrus, and Bors. The snow fell
thickly ahead of them and around them, beginning its job of
smothering the fort in a thick, white blanket- but it was not
so heavy yet that Quintus could not recognize the female
figure moving ahead of them into the tavern. She was dressed
in pale colors, a long bluish cloak that made her look almost
like part of the snow itself, and her hair glinted blonde in
the torchlight. It was the same woman he had spotted watching
the group as they had left- and even in the dark and from
behind, she was every bit as gorgeous as she had been then.
The Centurion’s eyebrows rose with appreciation as he pictured
what she must look like at…well, at closer range.

“Any of you know her?” he asked the other three, keeping his
voice light and curious. What he wondered, of course, was if
she had been watching the group depart and return for a
purpose- if she was the sweetheart of one of the men. It
seemed unlikely, considering that she was now just walking
away- but hey, Quintus had to determine whether he was going
to get into any trouble for approaching her, right?










Tristan

The scout, on the other hand, did not head toward the tavern.
Food sounded good, as did drink, but they were not immediate
priorities for him, and companionship certainly was not
either. He spared Bors a vague nod, which might have indicated
he’d be back later, and then walked Tirgatao into the stables
himself. He preferred, whenever possible, to care for his
mount himself, and now once again he ignored the stablehands’
offers to take the stallion from him and walked him to his
stall, where he removed the saddle and gear and began to brush
the animal down. A stable boy brought water and food, which
Tristan accepted with a grunt that, believe it or not, was an
indicator of gratitude, gruff though it was. Tristan didn’t
linger, though- once Tirgatao had been set up with his own
nourishment and given a quick brush, Tristan was content to
leave the horse to his meal and go on to his next priority-
fittingly, another animal.

The hawk, of course. The scout had missed her presence on the
mission; it always felt different when he was not able to take
her along, even though she spent large chunks of her time off
soaring the skies high above, her presence hardly noted by
anyone. Now, he went in search of her, and since Darya had not
been in evidence in the courtyard, he decided to start with
the woman’s quarters. That was as good a place to start as
any, especially since it allowed him to easily stop at his own
room and leave off his own gear from the mission. This he did-
he didn’t bother to unpack the saddlebags, or to recheck
anything, since nothing had been used on the abortive mission,
anyway- and then went to Darya’s room, padding softly along
the torchlit corridor of the sleeping quarters.

No one answered his knock on the door. He made another, a
touch louder, but there was still no response. An ear pressed
to the door revealed no noise associated with humans, but he
did catch a sound that seemed familiar- like a rustle of
feathers, very faint even to his keen hearing, so faint that
he could not even be sure he had heard it. Even so, Tristan
decided to open the door. He was confident that Darya was not
within, but if the hawk was, a simple door wasn’t going to
keep him away.

He was careful about it, though. He pushed the door open
slowly, and peeked around it with one hand instinctively near
his dagger hilt- but of course, there was no one inside. The
fire was out, all was dark except where the corridor torches
illuminated a strip down the center of the room- but the hawk
was there, perched on the window sill across from the doorway,
her figure still.

Tristan felt an alarming, though brief, stab of panic. She
wasn’t moving…did that mean…annoyed at his own reaction, the
scout rolled his eyes and told himself to bloody well go look
instead of jumping to conclusions. And a few steps across the
room later, his initial worry proved to be unfounded. The hawk
was merely asleep, her breathing regular and her head tucked
under her good wing, while the splint on the broken wing was
just as it had been before. All right. She was all right, and
Tristan allowed himself a sigh, and even a soft stroke of her
back feathers with one very light finger. He realized now that
if she had been dead, she would not have been sitting there
upright, and mentally derided his initial reaction for mere
foolishness. Meanwhile, the hawk ruffled her feathers lightly
again in response to his touch, but did not open her eyes.

She needed her rest, and it was probably better to just let
her get it here for the time being. And perhaps Darya was in
the tavern, which was Tristan’s next planned destination. It
was evening meal time for everyone, and, as his stomach
reminded him with a growl as he shut Darya’s door very softly
behind him, he was hungry.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 7:55 pm
Catherine


Catherine walked ahead of those going to the tavern - not by
design however. Though it certainly was a treat for them to
see her from such an angel. She was walking without rush or
urgency, quite happy to be out in the cold despite how it bit
at her pale, smooth skin. Once she glanced over her shoulder
and gave a coy smile to those men behind her. She gave a small
laugh and quickened her pace. She reached the tavern and
opened the door with a greatful sigh for the heat in the
place. It was time for evening meal so the place was packed.
The blonde whore looked around with hazy green eyes for an
empty table around the walls but there were only seats in the
centre of the room and none near teh fire. The woman pouted at
that, considered joining a group of men near the fire then
dismissed the idea, favouring a high seat up by the counter.
One of the serving wenches gave her a welcoming smile and
Catherine responded in kind.

Slender hands reached up and pulled back the hood of her
cloak. Her blonde hair was still speckled with wet around the
ends and Catherine idly flicked them away as she sat herself
down. The cloak she left tied about her pretty neck but she
pulled the sides apart to reveal the midnight blue dress that
she wore. There was white thread decorating the width of the
material just beneath her bosom and down to her slender waist,
accentuating her curves and figure. Of course it would have
looked better if the thread had been silver and if the blue
had not run a little and turned the thread the palest of
blues, but the effect was the same.

Catherine ordered a bowl of soup for herself, turning to rest
her back against the counter and look around the goings-on in
the tavern.









Amadeus

Arthur
 
“Perhaps, Certainly that is what appeared to be.
However, if I am to understand Merlin’s daughter…what
drove Merlin to attack was not strategy, retaliation or
logic, It seems that Merlin chose to make his assault on
us based solely on the council of the gods, alea iacta
est, Merlin has made his position clear and thus we
shall have no rest despite the winter,”


So it had not been sweet nothings that the two had been
whispering in each other's ears then, Amadeus thought
caustically. Indeed the news Arthur bore to him now was grave.
They were following a crazed man these woads, surely they knew
this. He did the bidding of 'gods' that did not exist - 'gods'
that were probably no more than voices in his mind. Had he
been born in Rome he would have been treated by a phsyician
and the bad blood that caused these ill humours would have
been expunged from his body.

The young Optio followed Arthur's words more than his own
footsteps. He was not truly focussing on where they walked but
was quite surprised when Arthur placed his hand on his
shoulder. Amadeus tensed. His guilty conscience bid him tense.
He looked sideways at the Commander and wondered how Arthur
would react if he knew that he plotted against him. Would he
be accepting of it as he seemed to be so accepting of all else
that befell him? Would he fight it? Would he kill it with
kindness?

Arthur
 
“You are a fine officer, Amadeus. And I shall certainly
be dependent upon your skills as we must prepare for
treachery from the Woads – possibly as soon as the
rising of tomorrow’s sun,”


Truthfully Amadeus was quite taken aback by the compliment
paid to him. He took it as confirmation then, that Arthur had
more faith in him rather than his impetuous Captain who had
botched the last peace mission. Peace had not been possible no
matter who had attended to Merlin - that Amadeus' mission had
been so abysmal would surely be obvious now to Arthur having
observed his Optio on the mission with himself.

The sharp-nosed Roman looked over at Arthur with his grey eyes
quite wide, and more than a little blood-shot from tiredness.
He scrutinised the other man's face quickly for any hints or
signs of mockery but found none. Arthur truly did believe him
a good officer. People had often admired his ambitions and
skills in the past - but never had his superior told him so
forthrightly that he was a fine officer. It did much to
increase Amadeus' confidence - and for a moment he thought, he
pondered rising to Command the honest way here at Badon but
... but ... No.

No.

Arthur was not right for Badon Hill. He was not suited to
these times of war when hard words were needed, not impotent
'peace missions' and truce talks. The woads had to be crushed
not treated with, and the Sarmatians needed to be brought to
heel and soon. Arthur would never achieve those things - not
in a dozen lifetimes. He just did not have what it would take.

He was not Roman enough.

"I will be ready, Commander. You may count on that." Amadeus
said and truly meant it. Because come the rising of the sun
his letter would be en-route to Rome and Amadeus would be
ready to assume control of Badon by whatever means once Rome
sanctioned his take-over. Arthur, for all his kindess and
humble greatness would be pulled from his pedestal and bared
for the weakling that he was.

For the might of Rome.

They had reached Arthur's rooms by now and Amadeus turned to
face Arthur, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering
torchlight, his grey eyes appearing black in the dimness.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 8:52 pm
Ione


Feeling better after the change of clothes, and the help of
her friend, Ione thanked the wench for the skirt, tunic and
the cloak. Stepping out of the kitchen into the eating area,
Ione went to a far table and decided it best to stay away from
the man who had insulted her. The wench had followed her out
of the kitchen with a hot mug of mint tea, and told Ione to
drink it.

"Thank you so much again for your help," the weaver said
softly, still embarrassed at what she had done. She slipped a
few coins on the table, then Ione left her gaze move to look
out the window at the large flakes of falling snow.

So silent.

She took a sip of the tea and blocked out the irrate man and
everyone else.

There was only one person she hoped had returned okay, and
that she'd see him again....









Brendyn

He remained silent as they walked to the tavern.

Brendyn was glad to be back to the fort, and now was going to
share a drink with his new found friends, before going to rest
for the night. Large flakes of snow fell about them as they
walked, and it always amazed him at how lovely and calm things
looked after a good snowfall. The whole mission had seemed
like one huge dream, or nightmare. It was true that Merlin had
not agreed to peace, but all of the soldiers and sarmatians
accompanying Arthur had come home alive.

Peace would have been great, instead of unnecessary bloodshed
and hatred.

Hatred caused boundries.

As they approached the tavern, a lovely woman passed in their
sight, and Brendyn, for a moment, thought she was the most
beautiful creature he had ever seen... but no one compared to
Veronica. As they came closer to the tavern, Brendyn thought
he smelled food and heard lively talk. How wonderful it
sounded! Brendyn thought back to his friends at Aesica, and
how they'd laugh and drink and eat after a long day. How all
of the burdens of the day vanished... sometimes.

Approaching the door, he opened it and stepped side for his
friends to enter...
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Jan 10, 2009 10:22 pm
Linnesse


Lancelot
 
”No, Lady, no questions. I think I can manage to follow
the directions. Thank you for your trouble and time.’


Linnesse only nodded coolly to that, walking forward with
towards the door along with Lancelot, though hanging a few
steps behind. She leaned against one side of the workroom
doorway, crossing her arms in front of her as the First Knight
headed determinedly for the exit- but then he paused and
turned around, and when he met her eyes again, there was a new
softness there that Linnesse had never seen before. It puzzled
her, and she tilted her head to the side and half-straightened
up as he spoke again…

Lancelot
 
”He’s lucky to have you. You tell me- anytime- if you
have need of me.”


“Er…” Linnesse hesitated. An affirmative answer wasn’t quite
right- she couldn’t really picture herself ever needing
Lancelot for anything, but it didn’t seem right to just rudely
put him off, either. Finally, after a moment with words stuck
in her throat, she nodded stiffly.

“I appreciate it,” she finally concluded, her eyes following
him as he turned once again and left the infirmary altogether.

“Hmm,” she made a soft, thoughtful noise in her throat,
shaking her head. What an…odd encounter- she couldn’t figure
the man out at all. Dangerous? Womanizer? Courteous and
caring? She had all three of those aspects of him in a very
short time, and it seemed a curious thing to her…but also,
perhaps, something that was better not dwelled on. Derfel had
warned her against him, and he would not have done that
without reason. If “dangerous” was even one of Lancelot’s
personalities, nevertheless it was there, and Linnesse
certainly didn’t want to risk anything like the encounter with
Darya happening again. That had been utterly
terrifying…Linnesse squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, the
memory threatening to drag her in- and then forced them open
again, raising her head determinedly. She was not going to
think of the bad experiences of the past now. No, she was
going to go finish serving the meal to the patients, and then
she was going to get her cloak and go find her own supper. She
had things to do, she was hungry, and she was not going to
lose herself in fear of the past. It was past- Darya, Rufus,
all of it.

Linnesse turned in a businesslike fashion back towards the
patient beds and the rest of the serving, determined to put
dark thoughts behind her.
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Sun Jan 11, 2009 3:55 am
Eyla


Oh, but Eyla was in Heaven. As she arched her back beneath the
rafters in the bathouse, her dark hair spilled down her spine.
Her bodice was tightly pressed into the delicious curve of her
bosoms, and she pouted her lips wantonly. She appeared in the
midst of pleasure, and breathed a husky laugh from her pouted
mouth. The whore did not care for the past. It was boring,
dull, and there was nothing remotely interesting about it.
What did Darya expect? A beautiful and emotional story about a
loving family, who cherished her and taught her good manners?
Indeed, she was very wrong! Eyla had been born on an expensive
Roman villa, and had escaped a life of servitude to pursue the
delights of the flesh. Eyla was genuinely happy, and did not
seek happiness within friendship. She survived alone, and it
suited the woman perfectly. She did not want a demanding
lover, who expected loyalty and commitment. No, she wanted
fun, freedom and enough pleasure to leave her skin thrumming
with its aftermath. Posing prettily for Darya, her long skirts
spilled out around her tanned ankles, and she smiled. The
deceit glittered in her dark eyes, and it was delicious. Eyla
did not care for truth. Not one bit.

The whore allowed her gaze to sweep down the dark Sarmatian’s
slim form, and she awaited a reaction. Would she be chastised?
Oh, she hoped so!

Darya
 
“It would have just been…nice…especially since your
words make me wonder if being a whore already is
everything you want from the life…Shall we?”


Beautiful! Darya had finally realised what Eyla wanted from
life, and the whore laughed sweetly in response. Eyla wanted
to be a whore, because she enjoyed the rhythmic thump of a man
between her legs, there was nothing more wonderful. Pleasure
made a woman feel alive, and it made life easier, more
delicious. Did Darya seek a life of servitude? Clearly, and it
was a depressing notion. Eyla wanted to grab the other woman,
and place a honeyed kiss upon her mouth. The whore did not
seek anything other than being a whore, and it had taken Darya
long enough to realise this! Good Lord, but did the other
woman live in a dream? This life was not about happy endings,
nor falling in love...it was about learning to survive, and
enjoying the hand life dealt you...

Darya
 
”Derfel. Neeve.”


Eyla followed her companion, and a feline smile marked her
full and pink mouth. The bath house was a pretty place, and
the whore looked down into the clear water. Gentle ripples
caressed the surface, and cast dancing shadows along the
marbled walls. The green water touched against Eyla’s dark
gaze, and reflected a glittered and lighter lustre. Oh, but
she liked it here. It was pleasant, and the perfect place to
expose oneself. She had lifted her skirts here often, and
displayed her feminine delights to the world. As they walked,
Eyla lifted a hand into her hair, and teased the curly
tendrils over her shoulders. Her bangles clattered loudly down
her tanned arms, and she breathed a gentle laugh of
satisfaction. She was not receiving pleasure, but she was
enjoying herself. To a fashion. They approached a group of
people beside the pool side, and Eyla peered up at them
prettily. She recognised Neeve, the stern and striking healer,
and Derfel...the golden haired Adonis who inspired the whore’s
interest. Eyla came to stand to stand at Darya’s side, and
placed a hand upon Derfel’s arm. She squeezed it
appreciatively, and then released it...when she saw the feral
woman who accompanied them.

“Good Lord! Who is this?” She laughed, and lifted her brows at
the other woman. Her thick eyelashes opened wide in amusement,
and she tutted her tongue. Pointing an accusing finger at the
woman in question, Eyla spoke again, most sweetly. “What’s
your name, sweetheart? Are you being held a captive?” The
whore glanced up at Derfel, and winked one eye. She did not
know the woman, nor her Woad blood. She simply joked, teased,
and did so most innocently. “And if so, is there room for one
more?”

Eyla could not help herself. She pulled her shoulders back,
and smiled naughtily at the small party. Her previous
intentions of aiding Darya seemed to fade in her mind, and now
were replaced with the potential for...delights...
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golden_trillium

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Author: Eledhwen
Date: Sun Jan 11, 2009 6:10 am

Bors


Brendyn
 
'Actually Bors, that drink is sounding better and
better... do they serve meade in the tavern? Those are
good hot drinks..."


Bors didn't reply to the young man's question, he merely
huffed and grinned, urging his horse into a canter as the snow
began to fall. The boy needed a proper drink, not poxy meade -
that was for women! Not to worry, Bors and his new buddy
Titrus would soon sort that out.

As they neared the fort the cavalcade slowed to a walk, and
Bors rested his hands one on top of the other on his pommel as
he leaned forward to stretch the muscles of his back. He was
getting too old for all this.

Titrus
 
"Quintus, Bors! I'm a man of my word. Drinks on me, if
you're interested, once we get finished here. What do
you think?"


The burly knight glance round as the Roman moved up alongside,
and smirked.

"We was jus' talkin' about that very fing," he sniffed. "Bren
'ere wants to learn 'ow to drink like a man."

As he spoke, they at last entered the protective walls, and
Bors was happy to slide down out of the saddle, rubbing his
backside as he stretched and yawned hugely.

Arthur
 
“Gentlemen! Go to your rest tonight…no one deserves it
more... May God keep you,”


"Come on then," Bors intoned loudly. "First round's on you
Tits me ol' mate."

Throwing his reins at a stable boy, he began to walk towards
the tavern, looking forward to the warmth of the fire, the
taste of the ale, and the sight of his Vanora's comely curves
as she served them.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Jan 11, 2009 10:10 am

Vanora


She narrowed her eyes at the drunk after the small mess had
been cleaned up at the table.

It looked like nothing had happened, and this satisfied her.
She threw the dirty towels into the water and lifted it to
carry it into the back room so that she could dump it outside.
How Karl had reacted had really gotten her angry... how he had
acted toward Linnette and Mari, not to mention Adian who could
have killed him as angry as he was.

Opening the back door of the tavern, Vanora threw the dirty
water out into the snow, and closed the door against the snow
and cold. She knew the men were in the fort now, and also
figured they all had to be chilled to the bone, wet from the
snow and very tired. She stopped at the huge kettle that
contained the hearty stew, and saw that there'd be enough.
Turning to one of the cooks, a giant of a man, Vanora ordered
that a keg of ale be brought up from the cellar.

Bors liked his drink after a mission or a battle, and would be
bringing in his friends no doubt....

She smiled as she moved back up front to the counter. The door
had opened to reveal the new fellow she had met briefly, and
some of the others. Off in a corner, Ione sat by herself in a
fresh new set of clothes probably borrowed from the wench who
had helped her clean up. The weaver's head was bowed as if
looking for answers to her worries in her mug of tea. Moving
her eyes about the room, she also saw Catherine, who was being waited on by another wench. Plus there were a few other customers as well. Not as busy a dinner as Vanora had hoped for...

Her biggest worry had not left the tavern: Karl.

With the soldiers and the knights entering, she hoped the
drunk would just behave himself...
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Jan 12, 2009 9:22 am
Arthur


The two men had come to a halt in front of the darkly stained
wooden door that marked the entrance to Arthur’s private
quarters. The Commander’s eyes crinkled slightly in the
corners as he offered an amicable smile over at Amadeus. He
then slid his hand from the Optio’s shoulder and let both arms
relax at his sides. Arthur was exhausted. And from the looks
of Scipio’s slightly wide and strained eyes, the other Roman
shared in a part of that exhaustion as well. It had been a
long and wearisome few days since the Commander had returned
from the mission at Segedunum. And failure had ruled the day –
much to Arthur’s shame.

Amadeus
 
"I will be ready, Commander. You may count on that."


“I have no doubt,” Arthur answered while allowing his hand to
reach for the latch on the door. “However, I regret that I had
sent you on a fool’s errand yesterday. I had thought Merlin a
man that could be reasoned with…I miss-judged him. And as God
is my witness, I shall not make that mistake again.”

Rare was the occasion that Arthur spoke of his failures to
anyone other than God Himself. But his misjudgment of the
enemy had put this man before him at risk when the Commander
had sent Scipio in his stead – along with others including
Malcus and Tristan. Thus Arthur felt he owed it to Amadeus –
owed the man honesty and disclosure….despite Lancelot’s
foreboding words of caution about this new Optio.

“Let us re-convene in my office at dawn tomorrow and break our
fast together, hm? I must write a full report and we will
assess all matters of our defenses and what must be done to
complete the repairs,” Arthur said again with genuine kindness
and a clear willingness to accept this man before him as his
colleague. Scipio had ridden well today, carried himself well
in the face of serious adversity and gained respect in
Arthur’s eyes. The Commander’s hand pressed down on the latch
and the heavy wooden door creaked open.

“Until tomorrow…Amadeus,” Arthur said as he began to turn
towards the threshold of his chambers. The air that met him
through the open door was warm and familiar and welcoming….and
the Commander wanted nothing more than to discover solace
inside. He had not completely turned from Amadeus yet though
to know who might be awaiting his return – Darya or Lancelot?
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jan 12, 2009 8:23 pm
Linnesse


Now that the dinner was doled out to the infirmary patients,
Linnesse could think about some food for herself. She had hung
around a little longer than usual, to see if Derfel was going
to come to pick her up, as he often did, but after a short
stretch she figured he was still busy with this prisoner
guarding business and decided to go over to the tavern herself
to eat and talk to Linnette. The nature of Derfel's assignment
still seemed odd to her, as she reflected as she put on her
cloak and prepared to go out in the cold and gently falling
snow- normally knights didn't do any guard duty in the
dungeons at all, and was that not where prisoners were kept?
Linnesse truly didn't understand it, but she just hoped that
the duty was not too onerous for him, and did not keep him out
all night or anything. For now, though...well, it hadn't been
that long. She'd just nip over to the tavern and await him
there, and then maybe walk back home with Linnette when she
was off work.

The streets of the fort were hushed and rather brighter than
one would have expected at night, due to the torchlights
reflecting back off the thick clouds. Snow fell in fat, silent
flakes, muffling everything, and even the sounds of passing
patrols seemed considerably quieter than usual. The light from
the tavern windows made the snow sparkle on the courtyard
flagstones, and Linnesse was struck by the beauty of it, even
as she wanted to get in out of the cold. It was like silver
and diamonds, sprinkled all over the earth- even in this rude
stone place of soldiers.

Just inside the tavern's door, Linnessse tapped excess snow
off her shoes, pushed down her hood, and shook her shoulders,
letting as many of the flakes collected there fall to the
ground. To get any farther into the room she had to skirt
around a small group of men standing there deciding what table
to claim- Bors was one of the, but Linnesse didn't know any of
the others by name. She gave them as wide a berth as she could
in the restricted entrance space, not out of fear, but out of
what she regarded as a very sensible caution, and made her way
to the bar, where she was a bit surprised to note that
Linnette was absent. A quick question to one of the other
girls revealed that Linnette had stepped out "with some young
lass, a friend of hers", and would be back soon. Not having
any idea who the "young lass" was, nor of the purpose of the
errand, Linnesse resolved to merely get some food and wait
here a while, and to that end ordered stew and bread, and when
the wench had brought it, began to look around for a place to
sit.

There weren't too many people she was familiar with here right
now...Vanora was, but she was working, of course,
and...Linnesse felt momentarily lost as she stood there,
holding her food, indecisive and nervous. She had been here
many times before...but virtually never alone. She was almost
on the verge of going to ask Vanora if she could perhaps eat
in the kitchen or something, when she spotted Ione at a table
by herself, a mug before her, her head turned so that she
gazed out the nearby window at the falling snow.

Perfect! Quite relieved, Linnesse threaded her way over to the
table in question. She'd have some familiar company, and she
could inquire after Ione's state as well. The healer in her
fell to analyzing the situation even as she tentatively set
her food down on the table. Ione's color looked good, though
her face was understandably sad, but it did worry Linnesse a
bit that she wasn't eating. Had she already done so, or was
she feeling ill?

"Ione...can I sit here? How are you feeling?" Linnesse asked
the other woman as she slid onto the chair across from her.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Jan 12, 2009 9:09 pm
Ione


The weaver slowly sipped at the mug of hot mint tea, feeling
her stomach settle a bit more... now that she was away from
the smell of that vile, foul mouthed man. Ione rarely swore,
but right now, she was in no mood to mess with the drunk
further and left the incident fall. As kind as she was, she
had slipped the wench enough money to pay for the man's
spoiled dinner, and her tea. She looked out the window at the
softly falling flakes as if trying to find out answers to her
"why" questions: Why had Ian been taken from her? Why had
Javier suddenly just disappeared from her life? There were too
many "whys" and not enough answers...

Linnesse
 
"Ione...can I sit here? How are you feeling?"


Ione slowly turned her head and looked sadly at the other
woman, but then offered a slight, but warm smile. "I would be
glad of some company, Linnesse. Please do have a seat," Ione
said in her softly accented voice. She cast a glance over to
where the disgruntled man was sitting, and thankfully far from
her. The smile vanished as she looked down into her tea. In a
sad voice, Ione said, "I am feeling okay. Thank you for
asking... I went to visit Ian's grave. Tis in a lovely
spot..." Ione brushed a hand over her borrowed tunic as she
related to the healer what had just happened between the drunk
and herself, "One of the wenches left me borrow her skirt and
tunic... Oh Linnesse, I was so embarrassed." Her voice trailed
off, still looking down into her tea, then back to her friend,
"How is Derfel?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tavern door open and
the voices of men... possibly the soldiers and officers who
had been on the mission. Would he be with them? Was he safe
and sound? Turning her eyes back to Linnesse, the weaver said,
"I really do appreciate your help today. You have done so much
for me already..."

It was good to have Linnesse's company!

The things that had happened to her today had left an
indullable mark on her soul, and having the healer there made
her feel a bit better...
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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Jan 13, 2009 12:50 pm
Arthur


Arthur slowly closed the door with the push of his hand and
the latch clicked into place behind him. And in that moment,
his ability to conceal his exhaustion left him at last.
Arthur’s shoulders visibly slumped and his whole body ached
with weariness and fatigue – gone was the steely mask that the
Commander wore so convincingly in public. Arthur was home. And
he had been successful in bringing the men home safely, too.
Thank God.

The fireplace had been well banked by some thoughtful
attendant and the flames cast a warm animated glow throughout
the chamber easily overpowering the lit candles here and there
in the room. A tray containing fruit and cheese and a tall
flask of drink had been placed in the center of the table. The
netting that draped the canopy of the bed had been tied back
invitingly while the Commander’s favorite oil lamp burned
brightly on a bedside stand. The room was as its master had
left it – neat, practical and adequate…..and empty.

No one was present to greet Arthur. No wife, no lover and no
family.

I deserve no less.

The Commander made a disgruntled sound, rubbed thick fingers
over his mouth and then drew a hand through his unruly black
hair (although traces of grey now appeared here and there).
Arthur’s stiff fingers immediately went to work on the clasps
of his vambraces while he stepped to his dressing chest that
stored his armour when not in use. Once he had removed the
smaller items, Arthur then went on to meticulously remove his
red cloak, hauberk and mail only grimacing once while twisting
the still sore line of stitches on his side in the motion. He
had hung Excalibur in her place on the wall allowing his
fingers to momentarily linger on the hilt of the great sword.
Arthur thanked God that he had had no use of her skills today.
But the day had still been a complete failure. Peace had not
been achieved.

Arthur braced himself with his hands on the tall chest and
toed off his black riding boots. He then placed them beside
the storage chest and then padded his way over to the wash
stand on the far side of the room. He pulled off the thin
linen tunic he’d worn beneath his armor and discarded it into
a laundry basket beside the wash stand. From what he could
see, the bandages over his stitches had held up well enough –
only a small amount of crimson colour was evident in the
otherwise white cloth. Arthur removed all the bandaging and
cleaned the area best that he could with a clean cloth and
water from the basin. The wound only mildly protested with a
dull ache. Arthur did not bother re-bandaging his side but
went on to shave and clean himself up best that was possible
with only a bowl of fresh water here in his quarters. A much
overdue full bath would have to wait until tomorrow….if Arthur
could find the time for such luxuries when there was so much
that he must attend to in his duties.

And as he finished scrubbing a cloth over his freshly shaven
face, Arthur paused to stare at his reflection in the electrum
that hung over the wash stand. Weary green eyes nearly
overshadowed by thick furrowed brows stared back. He sighed at
the reflection and then gripped at the lip of the wash stand
with both hands – head bowed…..

….and Arthur prayed; his lips moving in quiet murmurs as he
asked for God’s forgiveness…...

O God,

I need to feel that I have forgiveness from You. So often my
good intentions do not become what I want them to be, and so
often the good I want to do, I cannot do. It is hard to face
up to the wrong that is in my life.

When I feel Your forgiveness, I feel clean and good inside and
so free to be what You want me to be.

Help me feel this goodness, and strengthen me to forgive those
who have wronged me.

I pray in the name of Christ who shows us the way to Your
forgiving presence.

Amen.

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