"Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm,
I know
It's been comin for some time.
When it's over, so they say,
It'll rain a sunny day,
I know
Shinin' down like water."
- Have You Ever Seen the Rain,
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Leto stepped carefully, iron-shod hooves maneuvering through carriage ruts with a practiced stride. Each trench was wide from uncounted years of travels - torn in places from hard use when the sky had grown dark and the clouds wept turning the earth to mud, as they seemed ready to now. Their trek had not been a long one, but weather was fickle as always, and it blew in heedless of the clear skies that had come before. The waxing sun grew blotted behind gathering clouds, all of which looked heavy with rain. The stallion's wide black eyes watched the road ahead as his brown ears twitched attentively. Each stretch of his long legs brought his flanks of auburn horseflesh to quiver. He was tense. Stretched tight, like a string of cat's gut on a guitar. Alexandros could feel that apprehension in every canter and step. Whatever they had found in that deadman's glade - it had clung to Leto, just as it refused to leave Alexandros. The guardsman patted his steed on his muscular neck, painfully aware of the yellow ribbon that danced from his arm.
To his side and rear he heard hoofbeats accelerate.
"Alexandros," Lurus' sylvan voice spoke warningly "We'll be near the glen soon." The elf's blue eyes were on the forest. Combing the trees. Alexandros knew, those eyes didn't know what they were searching for. Just: anything, a shivering branch or glint of steel. His had looked for the same moments before. Even now, between each step of his horse, he caught his own glance into the ever-darkening woods. The shadows were longer now, growing with an urgency that Alexandros felt in the clenching of his gut.
The human guard nodded. "I know." Alexandros replied, eyes rising to look the road's furthest grassy furrows over. It felt familiar. He might have never had Lurus' wood-sense... This place though, it would be hard to forget what the road looked like on its approach. The twisted stump on the right, cut into some years ago, hollow now but for the moss that climbed up its edges. And ahead... the silhouette of old father willow.
"Ssshh..." Alexandros prompted, rubbing Leto's neck and pulling his reins up short to bring him to a gentle stop. The guard allowed their companions to catch up - a child as much fox as boy, and a young woman with a healing touch. Both, he thought, useless if their monster came calling. As much and more likely to be a burden if things got hairy. That was why he and Lurus needed them near though, where they could watch over them.
When Morveya and Kitan caught up to his horse, Morveya atop her own and Kitan trotting along with his bandaged feet, he motioned for the two to halt. Alexandros smiled, lips thin with his own worry even as he did. "We're near to the place we found our man. I need you both to be on watch, and keep up, so we'll be through here safe and well as soon as we can." Then, reassuringly. "Now don't you worry. Me and Lurus will bring you through. I promised Drifel as much, and I've never been a liar before. This evening you'll be sleeping warm and safe in Marn. Sure as salt." Leto snorted his agreement, horse-lips working passively.
Alexandros felt a droplet on his helmetless head and held out a numb steel-skinned hand. As if on queue a raindrop splashed against his outstretched index finger, scattering its water in smaller pools along his palm.
"I hope neither of you melts in the rain." He said jovially, though his worry over their safety stole some of its mirth.
Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
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Alexandros
- Outsider
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Sun Oct 28, 2012 9:10 pm
- Name: Alexandros Dragesus
- Race: Human
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Clarisse
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Thu Nov 29, 2012 3:44 am
- Name: Clarisse Dronne
- Race: Human with hints of Fae
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
As the rain increased to a steady downpour, no one noticed the solitary figure watching them a little ways down the road. Halfway up a dense pine tree Clarisse Dronne tightened the cloth around her face in an attempt to ward away the on setting cold. Wiping away some of the water pooling at the tip of her hood she took stock of the situation.
”Two town guards, a shifter, and one target”. Clarisse thought to herself starring at the four travelers heading towards her. ”I better get paid extra if I have to baby sit the others, then again that's only if they don't suffer an accident of sorts After all I was only paid to guard one."
A devilish smile crept across her unseen lower face, fitting in almost to well with the skull tattoo lining her jaw, thinking about how deep of pockets the person who offered her the job had. If it wasen’t for the amount of bishani that the man had shoved in her face as an up front payment, Clarisse most likely wouldn’t have taken the job at all, but money was money and she had an addiction to it. After hastily listing to what was required of her, Clarisse set off toward the town of Shim, hoping to either intercept her target on the road or catch her before she left her home.
”Morveya Aris” Clarisse mumbled to herself, ”Wonder why someone wants you so well protected. Then again it’s not my job to enquire.”
As the rain steadily came down Clarisse kept her unseen vigil over the travelers, waiting for everything to fall into place.
”Two town guards, a shifter, and one target”. Clarisse thought to herself starring at the four travelers heading towards her. ”I better get paid extra if I have to baby sit the others, then again that's only if they don't suffer an accident of sorts After all I was only paid to guard one."
A devilish smile crept across her unseen lower face, fitting in almost to well with the skull tattoo lining her jaw, thinking about how deep of pockets the person who offered her the job had. If it wasen’t for the amount of bishani that the man had shoved in her face as an up front payment, Clarisse most likely wouldn’t have taken the job at all, but money was money and she had an addiction to it. After hastily listing to what was required of her, Clarisse set off toward the town of Shim, hoping to either intercept her target on the road or catch her before she left her home.
”Morveya Aris” Clarisse mumbled to herself, ”Wonder why someone wants you so well protected. Then again it’s not my job to enquire.”
As the rain steadily came down Clarisse kept her unseen vigil over the travelers, waiting for everything to fall into place.
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
The rain did not help Kitan’s dour mood.
His ears were flattened against the side of his red-haired head, a single part of the spot of color the group made against a sea of fog-obscured greens and browns. He was soaked, and the chill of the puddle water even his nimble feet could not avoid only furthered the decent of his slouching posture.
He kicked a mud covered pebble, his calloused toes nullifying any pain. It bounced twice before flying through the underbrush off the roadside, causing a faint rustling unheard over the constant drone of water on earth and leaves.
His thoughts were focused on his father. They had been so close to making progress: father had never before accepted any medicine, even the ones he bought from traveling salesmen and brought back. In fact, he seemed to mistrust those ones especially. The little fox shifter groaned mournfully. Am I going to have to drag a healer there every time I want to help him?
Kitan clutched at his head, brushing off freezing raindrops while he twitched and scrambled. His eyes squinted, far away from their forested surroundings.
There were so many little things that had made the situation at the cabin pressure his father into taking Morveya’s elixir. It would be hard to engineer each one all over again.
He was about to kick another small stone when he noticed something strange at the top of his vision. It looked like an old boot, worn, wide and thick. It made him think he should have brought his boots after all— rainy days were the one time he could tolerate wearing them, being far better than his chilly feet.
He looked up to find the foot was attached to a short, stumpy leg, clothed in dull brown trousers and wrapped in a dark green cloak. He was facing away, but a white beard could just barely be seen over his shoulder, past the hooded head.
“Dad?” Kitan called out nervously. He reached out to put his hand on his father’s shoulder.
Then he was falling, tumbling forwards as his hand passed through the delusion. The image whipped around, faster than his father ever could have. Kitan looked into its eyes as he tumbled forwards, two specks of white light on a burned face of fangs and hate. It opened its freakish maw and silently twisted its form to lunge at Kitan, now catching himself with his extended grimy palm on the rain splattered earth.
The dwarf-mirage’s assault caused the shifter to leap backwards with a feral cry, more fox than man- or perhaps it was a twisted merge of the two. The kitsune stumbled back through the mud, crawling and sobbing as it landed where he had been— and vanished, dissolving into a puddle like any other but for its thick brown color; he gaped as it then slid beneath the earth.
His stomach to the sky, his back covered in the roads’s refuse, Kitan panted in fear to the point of hyperventilation. His eyes remained fixed to the spot the delusion had left his sight. The elbows which supported him gave way as he began to stammer in fear, his eyes ready to burst to rival the rain, mouth flapping wildly as he attempted to articulate what he just saw.
“A delu-” he sobbed, “it was all just... just...” His mouth hung uselessly open, shock and horror overruling sense as the shifter stared wildly around at the faces of his companions. He struggled to stand, doing his best to avoid meeting the stares so they wouldn't see his crazed, tearing eyes.
His ears were flattened against the side of his red-haired head, a single part of the spot of color the group made against a sea of fog-obscured greens and browns. He was soaked, and the chill of the puddle water even his nimble feet could not avoid only furthered the decent of his slouching posture.
He kicked a mud covered pebble, his calloused toes nullifying any pain. It bounced twice before flying through the underbrush off the roadside, causing a faint rustling unheard over the constant drone of water on earth and leaves.
His thoughts were focused on his father. They had been so close to making progress: father had never before accepted any medicine, even the ones he bought from traveling salesmen and brought back. In fact, he seemed to mistrust those ones especially. The little fox shifter groaned mournfully. Am I going to have to drag a healer there every time I want to help him?
Kitan clutched at his head, brushing off freezing raindrops while he twitched and scrambled. His eyes squinted, far away from their forested surroundings.
There were so many little things that had made the situation at the cabin pressure his father into taking Morveya’s elixir. It would be hard to engineer each one all over again.
He was about to kick another small stone when he noticed something strange at the top of his vision. It looked like an old boot, worn, wide and thick. It made him think he should have brought his boots after all— rainy days were the one time he could tolerate wearing them, being far better than his chilly feet.
He looked up to find the foot was attached to a short, stumpy leg, clothed in dull brown trousers and wrapped in a dark green cloak. He was facing away, but a white beard could just barely be seen over his shoulder, past the hooded head.
“Dad?” Kitan called out nervously. He reached out to put his hand on his father’s shoulder.
Then he was falling, tumbling forwards as his hand passed through the delusion. The image whipped around, faster than his father ever could have. Kitan looked into its eyes as he tumbled forwards, two specks of white light on a burned face of fangs and hate. It opened its freakish maw and silently twisted its form to lunge at Kitan, now catching himself with his extended grimy palm on the rain splattered earth.
The dwarf-mirage’s assault caused the shifter to leap backwards with a feral cry, more fox than man- or perhaps it was a twisted merge of the two. The kitsune stumbled back through the mud, crawling and sobbing as it landed where he had been— and vanished, dissolving into a puddle like any other but for its thick brown color; he gaped as it then slid beneath the earth.
His stomach to the sky, his back covered in the roads’s refuse, Kitan panted in fear to the point of hyperventilation. His eyes remained fixed to the spot the delusion had left his sight. The elbows which supported him gave way as he began to stammer in fear, his eyes ready to burst to rival the rain, mouth flapping wildly as he attempted to articulate what he just saw.
“A delu-” he sobbed, “it was all just... just...” His mouth hung uselessly open, shock and horror overruling sense as the shifter stared wildly around at the faces of his companions. He struggled to stand, doing his best to avoid meeting the stares so they wouldn't see his crazed, tearing eyes.
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Morveya Aris
- Citizen
- Posts: 110
- Joined: Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:04 pm
- Name: Morveya Aris
- Race: Human with Elf ancestry
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Water.
Generally not a bad thing, in Morveya's book. It was her strongest elemental affinity -- tied intimately with her scrying capability. And, more, somehow fundamental, sympathetic with her psyche, in a manner she couldn't articulate with any logic. Of course magic wasn't about logic -- was the antithesis of it. So that was hardly any shock.
But for that reason she often found rain comforting, supportive, or invigorating. Or some combination of those. Up to certain limits, any rate. Chilled and drenched, she had no magic capable of immunizing herself to the array of ills that could afflict most people. And so she had tugged the cowl of her travel cloak over her head, and asked of the Greater Spirits something short of a deluge. Silently asked. Just in case the stalwart guard-duo might rankle at that invoking of pagan, elemental entities.
The practiced vigilance of that pair had been obvious on this short journey. Morveya was thankful for it, and did the best to cultivate some in herself. Though her hearing wasn't the best, her eyes were sharp, and she knew this region. Knew some of its graces, as well as some of its perils. Only some. Because, that inventory was dynamic and ever-changing. The touch of magic upon this world ensured that.
But somewhere out there was something she didn't know. Something possessed of a baleful will to maim and murder. With utter disregard for the precious candle of life it snuffed in fulfilling that ghastly whim.
Morveya harbored some mixed feelings as regarded these Marnian officers. Nonetheless, she was some comforted, when they had reigned their steeds to a halt, and she and Kitan drew up close to them. She had nodded her head, promising to be watchful. And assured Alexandros that she was a competant rider, and would keep pace without trouble. For all that Alstris' temperment had gone somewhat skittish; perhaps intuiting some of what the two-leggers around her knew.
But upon learning that here was near where they'd found the victim, Morveya decided it was time. Time to have that conversation with Alexandros. About what she might be able to do. And, aye; Alexandros. Though she had no disrespect of his partner, her impression was that Lurus wasn't the one who might feel conscience above oath. Or religious zeal. And it was right about as she was going to speak that the rain had begun. And Alexandros had remarked humorously, and she had smiled, forestalling the conversation. She lost her nerve on it for a time after. Attempting to think of the approach that would likeliest result in permission to help.
And it was shortly after, under what could now properly be called a rain, that Kitan called out:
"Dad-?"
Morveya hadn't her attention upon him, and wasn't looking initially. She shifted in the saddle to see him stumble forward, wondering what by the Mar had happened. Certainly his father was nowhere to be seen. And then she recalled--
"I have delusions..."
As Kitan sprang backward, away from whatever specter assailed his soul, his anguished cry cut Morveya to the quick. Instantly, she was slipping her booted feet from the stirrups, dismounting from the saddle, and hitting the muddied ground at a sprint. The herbalist slid on one swift step, but managed to keep her balance in spite. Her hood slipped back from her head en route.
"Kitan!" she called out, a moment before she was kneeling in the mud at his side.
Her hands were gently upon his shoulders. "It's alright...it's alright," she said as soothingly as possible. And almost added: I understand what has happened. But, that she was not going to say in earshot of the guards. They might have to tell them now, anyway. But that wasn't immediately important.
"You're alright. Among friends. No matter what it seemed a moment ago."
Her eyes were solely upon his face. She paused momentarily to see if she was getting through, assisted him if he wished to stand. And stayed close. Not only to communicate he wasn't alone -- but also to dissuade any less than gentle reactions by one or both of the others.
Generally not a bad thing, in Morveya's book. It was her strongest elemental affinity -- tied intimately with her scrying capability. And, more, somehow fundamental, sympathetic with her psyche, in a manner she couldn't articulate with any logic. Of course magic wasn't about logic -- was the antithesis of it. So that was hardly any shock.
But for that reason she often found rain comforting, supportive, or invigorating. Or some combination of those. Up to certain limits, any rate. Chilled and drenched, she had no magic capable of immunizing herself to the array of ills that could afflict most people. And so she had tugged the cowl of her travel cloak over her head, and asked of the Greater Spirits something short of a deluge. Silently asked. Just in case the stalwart guard-duo might rankle at that invoking of pagan, elemental entities.
The practiced vigilance of that pair had been obvious on this short journey. Morveya was thankful for it, and did the best to cultivate some in herself. Though her hearing wasn't the best, her eyes were sharp, and she knew this region. Knew some of its graces, as well as some of its perils. Only some. Because, that inventory was dynamic and ever-changing. The touch of magic upon this world ensured that.
But somewhere out there was something she didn't know. Something possessed of a baleful will to maim and murder. With utter disregard for the precious candle of life it snuffed in fulfilling that ghastly whim.
Morveya harbored some mixed feelings as regarded these Marnian officers. Nonetheless, she was some comforted, when they had reigned their steeds to a halt, and she and Kitan drew up close to them. She had nodded her head, promising to be watchful. And assured Alexandros that she was a competant rider, and would keep pace without trouble. For all that Alstris' temperment had gone somewhat skittish; perhaps intuiting some of what the two-leggers around her knew.
But upon learning that here was near where they'd found the victim, Morveya decided it was time. Time to have that conversation with Alexandros. About what she might be able to do. And, aye; Alexandros. Though she had no disrespect of his partner, her impression was that Lurus wasn't the one who might feel conscience above oath. Or religious zeal. And it was right about as she was going to speak that the rain had begun. And Alexandros had remarked humorously, and she had smiled, forestalling the conversation. She lost her nerve on it for a time after. Attempting to think of the approach that would likeliest result in permission to help.
And it was shortly after, under what could now properly be called a rain, that Kitan called out:
"Dad-?"
Morveya hadn't her attention upon him, and wasn't looking initially. She shifted in the saddle to see him stumble forward, wondering what by the Mar had happened. Certainly his father was nowhere to be seen. And then she recalled--
"I have delusions..."
As Kitan sprang backward, away from whatever specter assailed his soul, his anguished cry cut Morveya to the quick. Instantly, she was slipping her booted feet from the stirrups, dismounting from the saddle, and hitting the muddied ground at a sprint. The herbalist slid on one swift step, but managed to keep her balance in spite. Her hood slipped back from her head en route.
"Kitan!" she called out, a moment before she was kneeling in the mud at his side.
Her hands were gently upon his shoulders. "It's alright...it's alright," she said as soothingly as possible. And almost added: I understand what has happened. But, that she was not going to say in earshot of the guards. They might have to tell them now, anyway. But that wasn't immediately important.
"You're alright. Among friends. No matter what it seemed a moment ago."
Her eyes were solely upon his face. She paused momentarily to see if she was getting through, assisted him if he wished to stand. And stayed close. Not only to communicate he wasn't alone -- but also to dissuade any less than gentle reactions by one or both of the others.
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Alexandros
- Outsider
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Sun Oct 28, 2012 9:10 pm
- Name: Alexandros Dragesus
- Race: Human
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Kitan's abrupt cry brought Alexandros to attention - his back stiffened as his hand searched out the axe at his belt. His fingers slid down the crevace between his breastplate's front and rear, a thin seam of leather guiding his hand downward. In a well-practiced movement his palm gripped its head and wrenched it loose of its tight leather binding. Fingers tip-toed their way down steel to settle at its wooden handle. In the same moment his left hand tugged hard on Leto's cloth-padded reins to bring the stallion spinning round in a circular fashion. The horse kicked up mud and stone violently, road beneath stirred to mud, turning in a tight arc as his rider searched desperately for the danger that had so terrified Kitan.The human's amber eyes sojourned through the woodline - seeing nothing, and looking all the more fervently as their search grew more desperate. Everything was dreary and grey, as if painted by an artist with only one drab color. Rain pounded the leaves, wind shook the trees, making everything a blur of movement.
A whole troop of bandits could have been hidden in those woods just beyond the road: Alexandros wouldn't have been able to see them. Not even if they were wearing a fool's garish motley. "Fecking rain, fecking trees." He muttered angrily, frustrated by his own impotence.
Lurus did the same. His elven eyes cheated just as Alexandros' were. The elf had his bow in hand though, and an arrow nocked at the ready. Rain ran down Alex's face, droplets stinging his eyes as they cascaded down from on high. The guardsman spun around one last time. His short black hair clung to his soaked forehead, vision squinted against the downpour. Through the grey he saw Morveya leap from her mount and rush to Kitan's side. Whatever she said to him was difficult to hear dampened as it was by the beating rain. The words Lurus offered, from his side, came through all the clearer for his proximity:
"Don't worry. I have him, Alexandros." The elf proclaimed determinedly, wet bowstring pulled taut to knifed ear. The handguard of his bow pointed back the way they'd come - past Kitan and Morveya along the roadside. Alexandros looked along the arrow's intended trajectory, searching for his target through the drizzle. He saw nothing. No sinister silhoutte, ready to pounce. His modest human eyes saw only the pair huddled in the mud, one wrapped around the other reassuringly. A woman comforting a child - shifter and magician though he might be.
Then he understood.
"Seal's sake, what are you doing?!" Alexandros sputtered in alarm, voice unbelieving. He knew he was wrong to suspect as he did. Knew that Lurus wouldn't. Couldn't. Would never, not ever, lay low a child. Especially not one squealing in the mud, terrified and cold. They weren't butchers. They were guards. Paragons of the sanctity of law and righteousness. Especially Lurus.
"The boy is magical! Moon-touched! He's dangerous!" Guardsman Beriadan protested, his voice lacking the steel it had had only moments before. He didn't draw his bow any tighter - but he didn't move his sighting from Morveya and Kitan either. The elf was on edge just as they all were. After what they'd seen it'd be hard not to be. He hung there, a moment away from making a mistake that Alexandros knew his friend would regret for a lifetime.
So Alexandros acted. He reached a hand over to pull the bow low and guide it away from their charges. For all his apparent indifference Lurus resisted, his face full of shock. Alexandros saw the hurt in his partner's eyes - brought on by Dragesus' perceived betrayal. Alexandros felt his friend's strength redouble as the elf pushed back. The two wrestled over Lurus' nocked bow from atop their horses. Steel arms crashed together and locked as the two contested control of Lurus' bow. The animals below shuddered and pulled back, confused by the fighting above them. Alexandros refused to let go, keeping his grip firm on Lurus' bow as another grabbed hold of the elf's shoulder.
Then Lurus' mare bolted to her side, nostrils wide in terror as her widened eyes rolled rapidly to her left. Her grey legs carried her to the side, pounding a furious staccato as she pulled away. The two men, still refusing to lose their hold on one another, fell earthward. Lurus, pulled from his saddle. Alexandros, dragged off by his partner's weight. The two hit the ground with a crashing of metal and splashing of water. Dragesus fell face-forward, chest smashing into mud and knocking all the air from his lungs. A sharp pain shot its way through his side, driving the last scraps of breath from his mouth in a tortured growl. Alexandros brought his face up - brown with mud and clouded water to watch as Lurus sprung deftly to his feet and nocked a new arrow. Where the last had gone, he did not know. Lost in the mud or not it mattered little. Guardsman Beriadan had many arrows. The human soldier put one gauntleted palm beneath him and pushed himself up from the puddle. He moved slowly though, as if caught in molasses, his body so much heavier than it should have felt. He had to stop Lurus... Before his friend stained his hands with a child's blood.
The elf turned to look at him, face hardened as a man looked when about to do an unpleasant necessity. A superior man who knew his strength allowed him to do what weaker men could not. A warrior... But the warrior's face melted like candle's wax as he turned to look at Alexandros in the mud, elven face pallid against the dark clouds set behind it. Dragesus again followed the trail of Lurus' gaze - to the puddle below his own chest. It was clouded, but not just with dirt, wisps of blood swam through it and leaked into the furrowed ditches to his side. There in the mud: the rear shaft of Lurus' arrow, broken at the midpoint, white feathers splattered with earthen mud.
"A-Alex, I..." Guardsman Beriadan stammered. The tremor in his voice somehow more alarming to Alexandros then the sight of blood. Lurus' numb hands dropped his arrow. Righteous wrath forgotten in the moment.
And at Alexandros' side, where tempered forward breastplate met the back - strapped together by tightened leather... The rest of the arrow had buried itself in his side, wooden shaft red with Alexandros' blood. His left hand reached toward it's broken red length as his right propped him up. His exploratory touch, light as it had been, sent tendrils of agony through his stomach. He gritted his teeth and hissed through the pain, closing his hand tight around it and pulling with no success - the steel head refused to pull loose from him, and he surrendered for the moment.
The guard leaned onto his uninjured side. Eyes on the still startled horses, now halted a hundred yards down the road. They'd be hard to catch and keep steady now. Why they even rated as a concern as he leaned over a puddle of his own blood he couldn't say. "Of all the luck..." Alexandros muttered, voice light with hollow laughter, as the heavens crashed down around him.
A whole troop of bandits could have been hidden in those woods just beyond the road: Alexandros wouldn't have been able to see them. Not even if they were wearing a fool's garish motley. "Fecking rain, fecking trees." He muttered angrily, frustrated by his own impotence.
Lurus did the same. His elven eyes cheated just as Alexandros' were. The elf had his bow in hand though, and an arrow nocked at the ready. Rain ran down Alex's face, droplets stinging his eyes as they cascaded down from on high. The guardsman spun around one last time. His short black hair clung to his soaked forehead, vision squinted against the downpour. Through the grey he saw Morveya leap from her mount and rush to Kitan's side. Whatever she said to him was difficult to hear dampened as it was by the beating rain. The words Lurus offered, from his side, came through all the clearer for his proximity:
"Don't worry. I have him, Alexandros." The elf proclaimed determinedly, wet bowstring pulled taut to knifed ear. The handguard of his bow pointed back the way they'd come - past Kitan and Morveya along the roadside. Alexandros looked along the arrow's intended trajectory, searching for his target through the drizzle. He saw nothing. No sinister silhoutte, ready to pounce. His modest human eyes saw only the pair huddled in the mud, one wrapped around the other reassuringly. A woman comforting a child - shifter and magician though he might be.
Then he understood.
"Seal's sake, what are you doing?!" Alexandros sputtered in alarm, voice unbelieving. He knew he was wrong to suspect as he did. Knew that Lurus wouldn't. Couldn't. Would never, not ever, lay low a child. Especially not one squealing in the mud, terrified and cold. They weren't butchers. They were guards. Paragons of the sanctity of law and righteousness. Especially Lurus.
"The boy is magical! Moon-touched! He's dangerous!" Guardsman Beriadan protested, his voice lacking the steel it had had only moments before. He didn't draw his bow any tighter - but he didn't move his sighting from Morveya and Kitan either. The elf was on edge just as they all were. After what they'd seen it'd be hard not to be. He hung there, a moment away from making a mistake that Alexandros knew his friend would regret for a lifetime.
So Alexandros acted. He reached a hand over to pull the bow low and guide it away from their charges. For all his apparent indifference Lurus resisted, his face full of shock. Alexandros saw the hurt in his partner's eyes - brought on by Dragesus' perceived betrayal. Alexandros felt his friend's strength redouble as the elf pushed back. The two wrestled over Lurus' nocked bow from atop their horses. Steel arms crashed together and locked as the two contested control of Lurus' bow. The animals below shuddered and pulled back, confused by the fighting above them. Alexandros refused to let go, keeping his grip firm on Lurus' bow as another grabbed hold of the elf's shoulder.
Then Lurus' mare bolted to her side, nostrils wide in terror as her widened eyes rolled rapidly to her left. Her grey legs carried her to the side, pounding a furious staccato as she pulled away. The two men, still refusing to lose their hold on one another, fell earthward. Lurus, pulled from his saddle. Alexandros, dragged off by his partner's weight. The two hit the ground with a crashing of metal and splashing of water. Dragesus fell face-forward, chest smashing into mud and knocking all the air from his lungs. A sharp pain shot its way through his side, driving the last scraps of breath from his mouth in a tortured growl. Alexandros brought his face up - brown with mud and clouded water to watch as Lurus sprung deftly to his feet and nocked a new arrow. Where the last had gone, he did not know. Lost in the mud or not it mattered little. Guardsman Beriadan had many arrows. The human soldier put one gauntleted palm beneath him and pushed himself up from the puddle. He moved slowly though, as if caught in molasses, his body so much heavier than it should have felt. He had to stop Lurus... Before his friend stained his hands with a child's blood.
The elf turned to look at him, face hardened as a man looked when about to do an unpleasant necessity. A superior man who knew his strength allowed him to do what weaker men could not. A warrior... But the warrior's face melted like candle's wax as he turned to look at Alexandros in the mud, elven face pallid against the dark clouds set behind it. Dragesus again followed the trail of Lurus' gaze - to the puddle below his own chest. It was clouded, but not just with dirt, wisps of blood swam through it and leaked into the furrowed ditches to his side. There in the mud: the rear shaft of Lurus' arrow, broken at the midpoint, white feathers splattered with earthen mud.
"A-Alex, I..." Guardsman Beriadan stammered. The tremor in his voice somehow more alarming to Alexandros then the sight of blood. Lurus' numb hands dropped his arrow. Righteous wrath forgotten in the moment.
And at Alexandros' side, where tempered forward breastplate met the back - strapped together by tightened leather... The rest of the arrow had buried itself in his side, wooden shaft red with Alexandros' blood. His left hand reached toward it's broken red length as his right propped him up. His exploratory touch, light as it had been, sent tendrils of agony through his stomach. He gritted his teeth and hissed through the pain, closing his hand tight around it and pulling with no success - the steel head refused to pull loose from him, and he surrendered for the moment.
The guard leaned onto his uninjured side. Eyes on the still startled horses, now halted a hundred yards down the road. They'd be hard to catch and keep steady now. Why they even rated as a concern as he leaned over a puddle of his own blood he couldn't say. "Of all the luck..." Alexandros muttered, voice light with hollow laughter, as the heavens crashed down around him.
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Kitan didn’t know what was going on. His fear-addled mind lazily worked through events. A raindrop struck his upturned face in the eye, which he shut rapidly, cringing.
He breathed in through a clogged up nose. Raindrops landed on his face. Perceiving one thing at a time, he worked through his surroundings. Morveya was there. She was saying something. He was standing now. There was shouting, but he heard it distantly, like a sound underwater, distorted and liquid. It struck Kitan as oddly fitting, considering the rain.
As Kitan staggered in the direction of the noise, taking two precautious steps, his vision blurred. Then the horses bolted. The shifter didn’t know what was happening. Maybe he should ask? Did he cause this?
“What are they doing?” He asked Morveya; the little shifter then continued his teetering walk over the uneven, muddy ground. As he approached the guardsmen, he noticed they had stopped moving, and the big one was lying on the ground.
He chewed his lip nervously. “Is he going to be okay? What happened?” He looked down at the mud. It was a muddy day, he thought, looking over his own splattered cloths. It was as if fate enjoyed fetching them wallow in soggy dirt. The mud was a weird color here though, a strange crimson. Actually, it looked like that was the puddle.
"An accident," The elf was saying, over and over. "It was a mistake."
Kitan’s mind suddenly coiled around the obvious conclusion, something instinctive clicked together in his head. “Morveya!” He called, his voice shrill and high. Kitan wasn’t sure if she had walked over with him, his thoughts not altogether back. It seemed to startle the elven guardsman, who had been standing stunned, not even noticing the shifter’s approach. The elf grimaced and turned his back.
“I won’t be a help here,” the elf said, hastily retreating from the situation. He held a hand to his head, stating, “I’ll go catch the horses.”
He breathed in through a clogged up nose. Raindrops landed on his face. Perceiving one thing at a time, he worked through his surroundings. Morveya was there. She was saying something. He was standing now. There was shouting, but he heard it distantly, like a sound underwater, distorted and liquid. It struck Kitan as oddly fitting, considering the rain.
As Kitan staggered in the direction of the noise, taking two precautious steps, his vision blurred. Then the horses bolted. The shifter didn’t know what was happening. Maybe he should ask? Did he cause this?
“What are they doing?” He asked Morveya; the little shifter then continued his teetering walk over the uneven, muddy ground. As he approached the guardsmen, he noticed they had stopped moving, and the big one was lying on the ground.
He chewed his lip nervously. “Is he going to be okay? What happened?” He looked down at the mud. It was a muddy day, he thought, looking over his own splattered cloths. It was as if fate enjoyed fetching them wallow in soggy dirt. The mud was a weird color here though, a strange crimson. Actually, it looked like that was the puddle.
"An accident," The elf was saying, over and over. "It was a mistake."
Kitan’s mind suddenly coiled around the obvious conclusion, something instinctive clicked together in his head. “Morveya!” He called, his voice shrill and high. Kitan wasn’t sure if she had walked over with him, his thoughts not altogether back. It seemed to startle the elven guardsman, who had been standing stunned, not even noticing the shifter’s approach. The elf grimaced and turned his back.
“I won’t be a help here,” the elf said, hastily retreating from the situation. He held a hand to his head, stating, “I’ll go catch the horses.”
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Morveya Aris
- Citizen
- Posts: 110
- Joined: Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:04 pm
- Name: Morveya Aris
- Race: Human with Elf ancestry
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
The clangor of the guards' clash and subsequent topple took her attention from the yet dazed Kitan. What-? What had happened? The two had been talking – somewhat heatedly – but the conversation had been off toward her right, where her hearing was poor.
And then Morveya noted the bow upon the ground. Meaning that one must have taken it to hand. And, what-? Mistakenly bumped the other with it-? But how so near, when both had been ahorse? All the while this was running through her head, she was following Kitan, approaching the scene. There, she heard Kitan's question, and Lurus' disclaim of responsibility. As well as his inability to do anything. For-? The basic courtesy to assist his partner out of the –-
Her eyes noted the crimson tint in the mud, then. And immediately and hurriedly sought for its source. Which she spotted at Alexandros' side. Morveya gasped and went once again to her knees. Twice in a matter of minutes, in the mud. It would have brought a wry twist to her lips in some other situations. But there was nothing whatever humorous about this.
"Stay still, Alex!" she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I'm guessing you understand why." She inspected the wound closely – not at all touching at this point.
Morveya was an herbaler by trade. Which was different than a physician – though some blurred the two together under the canopy of healer. Sometimes, the duties of both blurred together in necessity. And thus, she had learnt something of the physician's side of it. It was far from her specialty – she was primarily a treater of ills – but had removed small and sharp objects from wounds, in the past. Her tolerance of bloodshed and actual carnage had never been strong. But an arrowhead was much like a large thorn, or small knife. And there was no question she was going to do what needed to be done. He couldn't ride the rest of the way to Marn with that in his side!
"And you must also know it has to come out. I'm going to get something to reduce the pain of that." She awaited no answer, but instead rose and made immediately toward Alstris. Staunch and faithful Alstris…who alone of the trio of steeds had not bolted. Again, in other circumstance, there might have been some irony in that. Her being no warhorse. But, she was in an environment familiar to her. And reason to feel safer near the one who had cared for her since a foal. It was not to say she was calm, however. The roan neighed in anxiety, reared a little, and backed some as Morveya approached in her hurried distress.
"Shhh, shh, easy girl, easy." Morveya soothed. And added in thought: Please, please, -please– do not bolt…
She didn't. Morveya whipped opened the saddle bag, and again retrieved her satchel. As she did, she realized her hands were shaking some. She tried to will herself to calm. This wasn't the worst injury she'd ever been exposed to. But, being out here, in the mud, the elements – it was different than the secure and stable environment of a cabin. But that could not be dwelt upon.
Swiftly she was back at Alex's side, white tresses utterly and totally drenched. So much for less than a deluge. They had gotten one; heartfelt pleas to Greater Spirits notwithstanding. She pulled her cowl up again – not of any vanity or comfort, but so she could see and concentrate better. She inspected once more, judging she'd need to cut away some of the leather for better access. She took out a small knife for that purpose.
"Sweet and sacred spirits! You are lucky you didn't break your neck in the fall, too. I am sure it hurts; I won't ask. Are you clear headed?" she inquired, as she began working at the leather, wanting to know if he was in any shock.
And only then realized the paganistic oath she'd let slip. Ah, well. Nothing for it now. Somehow, she doubted it would be much an issue at this moment. And, once past this emergency, they already had issues to sort.
And then Morveya noted the bow upon the ground. Meaning that one must have taken it to hand. And, what-? Mistakenly bumped the other with it-? But how so near, when both had been ahorse? All the while this was running through her head, she was following Kitan, approaching the scene. There, she heard Kitan's question, and Lurus' disclaim of responsibility. As well as his inability to do anything. For-? The basic courtesy to assist his partner out of the –-
Her eyes noted the crimson tint in the mud, then. And immediately and hurriedly sought for its source. Which she spotted at Alexandros' side. Morveya gasped and went once again to her knees. Twice in a matter of minutes, in the mud. It would have brought a wry twist to her lips in some other situations. But there was nothing whatever humorous about this.
"Stay still, Alex!" she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I'm guessing you understand why." She inspected the wound closely – not at all touching at this point.
Morveya was an herbaler by trade. Which was different than a physician – though some blurred the two together under the canopy of healer. Sometimes, the duties of both blurred together in necessity. And thus, she had learnt something of the physician's side of it. It was far from her specialty – she was primarily a treater of ills – but had removed small and sharp objects from wounds, in the past. Her tolerance of bloodshed and actual carnage had never been strong. But an arrowhead was much like a large thorn, or small knife. And there was no question she was going to do what needed to be done. He couldn't ride the rest of the way to Marn with that in his side!
"And you must also know it has to come out. I'm going to get something to reduce the pain of that." She awaited no answer, but instead rose and made immediately toward Alstris. Staunch and faithful Alstris…who alone of the trio of steeds had not bolted. Again, in other circumstance, there might have been some irony in that. Her being no warhorse. But, she was in an environment familiar to her. And reason to feel safer near the one who had cared for her since a foal. It was not to say she was calm, however. The roan neighed in anxiety, reared a little, and backed some as Morveya approached in her hurried distress.
"Shhh, shh, easy girl, easy." Morveya soothed. And added in thought: Please, please, -please– do not bolt…
She didn't. Morveya whipped opened the saddle bag, and again retrieved her satchel. As she did, she realized her hands were shaking some. She tried to will herself to calm. This wasn't the worst injury she'd ever been exposed to. But, being out here, in the mud, the elements – it was different than the secure and stable environment of a cabin. But that could not be dwelt upon.
Swiftly she was back at Alex's side, white tresses utterly and totally drenched. So much for less than a deluge. They had gotten one; heartfelt pleas to Greater Spirits notwithstanding. She pulled her cowl up again – not of any vanity or comfort, but so she could see and concentrate better. She inspected once more, judging she'd need to cut away some of the leather for better access. She took out a small knife for that purpose.
"Sweet and sacred spirits! You are lucky you didn't break your neck in the fall, too. I am sure it hurts; I won't ask. Are you clear headed?" she inquired, as she began working at the leather, wanting to know if he was in any shock.
And only then realized the paganistic oath she'd let slip. Ah, well. Nothing for it now. Somehow, she doubted it would be much an issue at this moment. And, once past this emergency, they already had issues to sort.
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Alexandros
- Outsider
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Sun Oct 28, 2012 9:10 pm
- Name: Alexandros Dragesus
- Race: Human
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
"Be careful there! Keep my insides from turning into outsides." Alexandros cracked a lopsided grin, face caked in mud... And to his credit he winced only occasionally.
Alexandros paid no notice to her oath - or at the least, he did not seem to. The guard had rolled onto his opposite side and onto more dry earth. Out of the cold puddle too, before it could sap him of every bit of warmth he had. Dragesus took a moment to look over his wound just as Morveya began her knifework. The woman's hands were gentle and well-practiced by the look of it. Always reassuring, when someone was holding a knife so close to your skin. Once his armor had been pulled back the wound became obvious - it was cut cleanly, and bleeding all worse for it. The arrowhead was buried to be sure, but luckily his leathers had taken the brunt of it. If Morveya looked hard enough she'd be able to make out the glint of metal amidst all the red.
"It's not that deep," he said with evident relief in his own voice "Once it's out, I'll be good to ride again. Mending can come later." Alexandros was not a healer, but he was a guard and had seen more than a few wounds before. Disbelieving looks from the healer or not, he didn't seem to be on his deathbed. At the least, there was no complaining. No screaming in agony. When she pulled the arrow from him, his eyes did rise to meet Morveya's for a moment before they lowered again to his wound with a stifled groan.
There it was, all scarlet steel on its lethal end. Thankfully whole despite its bright new red finish. A cursory examination of the wound would reveal it was fairly clean, thanks to Morveya's careful efforts. At the bottom of it, stark against red, one could see white. A bone. Lurus' arrow had gone all the way to Alexandros' ribs. There - a fissure, barely perceptible, where the rib had cracked only in part. Painful, but lucky. If the elf's arrow had been just a bit lower, or just a bit higher, Alexandros might have been gut-shot.
And that, Morveya knew, was a death sentence. One that was sure to be horrendously painful and drawn out over days.
Alexandros paid no notice to her oath - or at the least, he did not seem to. The guard had rolled onto his opposite side and onto more dry earth. Out of the cold puddle too, before it could sap him of every bit of warmth he had. Dragesus took a moment to look over his wound just as Morveya began her knifework. The woman's hands were gentle and well-practiced by the look of it. Always reassuring, when someone was holding a knife so close to your skin. Once his armor had been pulled back the wound became obvious - it was cut cleanly, and bleeding all worse for it. The arrowhead was buried to be sure, but luckily his leathers had taken the brunt of it. If Morveya looked hard enough she'd be able to make out the glint of metal amidst all the red.
"It's not that deep," he said with evident relief in his own voice "Once it's out, I'll be good to ride again. Mending can come later." Alexandros was not a healer, but he was a guard and had seen more than a few wounds before. Disbelieving looks from the healer or not, he didn't seem to be on his deathbed. At the least, there was no complaining. No screaming in agony. When she pulled the arrow from him, his eyes did rise to meet Morveya's for a moment before they lowered again to his wound with a stifled groan.
There it was, all scarlet steel on its lethal end. Thankfully whole despite its bright new red finish. A cursory examination of the wound would reveal it was fairly clean, thanks to Morveya's careful efforts. At the bottom of it, stark against red, one could see white. A bone. Lurus' arrow had gone all the way to Alexandros' ribs. There - a fissure, barely perceptible, where the rib had cracked only in part. Painful, but lucky. If the elf's arrow had been just a bit lower, or just a bit higher, Alexandros might have been gut-shot.
And that, Morveya knew, was a death sentence. One that was sure to be horrendously painful and drawn out over days.
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Kitan fiddled with his tunic. He was unsure what he could do in the situation. So much had happened, his mind reflexively shut down all over again. He simply dropped straight down into the mud to kneel beside Alexandros.
His clothes were already splattered with mud, but he became suddenly concerned that they might turn red. Panicking a little, he realized he was on the side at which Alex was not bleeding. Moments later, he smacked himself lightly in the head. How selfish to worry about his outfit in a time like this!
That said, the blood seemed especially vibrant. Even through the hazy rain, the crimson stood out on the ground. Kitan had seen this much blood before, several times even: his father was a hunter, after all. But it had never really occurred to the shifter that men should bleed the same way as animals. On the knife, the arrow and the ground, there was just... red. Animalistic wounds, felling all living things equally. He looked at his hands, comprehending for the first time that he bled like the fox he shared features with.
He shook his head, sending out a light spread of raindrops from his red hair. Dark thoughts thus removed from his mind, he kneeled with his mouth agape. Where had those morbid ramblings come from?
He didn’t like these ponderings. He closed his eyes and pretended he was back in his quarters in Marn, dry, warm, safe and sound.
Sound especially, he thought, recalling with terrible clarity the delusion and slowly concluding the accident before him was connected to his outburst. He would give a lot to have a sound mind. It was these bad ones that made him regret casting.
His clothes were already splattered with mud, but he became suddenly concerned that they might turn red. Panicking a little, he realized he was on the side at which Alex was not bleeding. Moments later, he smacked himself lightly in the head. How selfish to worry about his outfit in a time like this!
That said, the blood seemed especially vibrant. Even through the hazy rain, the crimson stood out on the ground. Kitan had seen this much blood before, several times even: his father was a hunter, after all. But it had never really occurred to the shifter that men should bleed the same way as animals. On the knife, the arrow and the ground, there was just... red. Animalistic wounds, felling all living things equally. He looked at his hands, comprehending for the first time that he bled like the fox he shared features with.
He shook his head, sending out a light spread of raindrops from his red hair. Dark thoughts thus removed from his mind, he kneeled with his mouth agape. Where had those morbid ramblings come from?
He didn’t like these ponderings. He closed his eyes and pretended he was back in his quarters in Marn, dry, warm, safe and sound.
Sound especially, he thought, recalling with terrible clarity the delusion and slowly concluding the accident before him was connected to his outburst. He would give a lot to have a sound mind. It was these bad ones that made him regret casting.
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Morveya Aris
- Citizen
- Posts: 110
- Joined: Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:04 pm
- Name: Morveya Aris
- Race: Human with Elf ancestry
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Morveya had proceeded with the necessities in tight-lipped silence. Paying no particular heed to Alex's attempts at humor. Not she resented those in any wise – actually she was glad he was well enough to make them. And likewise that he could place his attention elsewhere while she worked.
After the armor had come back, her fingers had quickly become tinged with crimson. And then just as quickly cleansed, by the rains. She hated this part. As much as possible, she had left such work to Thybren, who was Shim's official and qualified surgeon.
"It's not that deep. Once it's out, I'll be good to ride again. Mending can come later."
"Glad to hear that, Doctor Dragesus!" she had retorted wryly, with the lift of a pale brow. Of course she was going to make her own assessment as to that. But not going to argue anything with her patient at this juncture. Fortunately, it did prove to be true. And she had grimaced, seeing what had halted it from being so. Her hands trembled just briefly, and her stomach queased, at that sight of bone amidst bloody flesh. But she was grateful for it. He should be even more so.
"You have a cracked rib," she informed him bluntly. "And when it pains you, you need only consider that your gut would have far worse than cracked, had this gone in just a little differently!"
Morveya bit her lower lip briefly, reckoning on whether to stitch or no. And came to her own conclusion that it was shallow and clean enough that ample bandage with a poultice would suffice. She told Alex that's what she would do – and decided it would be far more workable to have some cover from the rain. She glanced up toward Kitan.
And became concerned at his expression. She didn't think he looked well. Her attention had gone all to Alex's injury – she hadn't been considering what might be going on with him. Still, she figured that giving him something important but simple to do might only help. She said to him:
"Kitan – please, if you would – grasp my cloak from behind, and pull it up over my head, and above and over him! It will make an impromptu tarp to work beneath."
Morveya also had an impending question. Maybe this wasn't the time – but she really felt impelled to ask. She opened her mouth to do so – then stopped abruptly. Some intuition sounded that, perhaps, this wasn't something Kitan needed to hear, just now.
After the armor had come back, her fingers had quickly become tinged with crimson. And then just as quickly cleansed, by the rains. She hated this part. As much as possible, she had left such work to Thybren, who was Shim's official and qualified surgeon.
"It's not that deep. Once it's out, I'll be good to ride again. Mending can come later."
"Glad to hear that, Doctor Dragesus!" she had retorted wryly, with the lift of a pale brow. Of course she was going to make her own assessment as to that. But not going to argue anything with her patient at this juncture. Fortunately, it did prove to be true. And she had grimaced, seeing what had halted it from being so. Her hands trembled just briefly, and her stomach queased, at that sight of bone amidst bloody flesh. But she was grateful for it. He should be even more so.
"You have a cracked rib," she informed him bluntly. "And when it pains you, you need only consider that your gut would have far worse than cracked, had this gone in just a little differently!"
Morveya bit her lower lip briefly, reckoning on whether to stitch or no. And came to her own conclusion that it was shallow and clean enough that ample bandage with a poultice would suffice. She told Alex that's what she would do – and decided it would be far more workable to have some cover from the rain. She glanced up toward Kitan.
And became concerned at his expression. She didn't think he looked well. Her attention had gone all to Alex's injury – she hadn't been considering what might be going on with him. Still, she figured that giving him something important but simple to do might only help. She said to him:
"Kitan – please, if you would – grasp my cloak from behind, and pull it up over my head, and above and over him! It will make an impromptu tarp to work beneath."
Morveya also had an impending question. Maybe this wasn't the time – but she really felt impelled to ask. She opened her mouth to do so – then stopped abruptly. Some intuition sounded that, perhaps, this wasn't something Kitan needed to hear, just now.
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Clarisse
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Thu Nov 29, 2012 3:44 am
- Name: Clarisse Dronne
- Race: Human with hints of Fae
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
From her perch in a nearby tree Clarisse watched as the chaotic scene unfolded below her. She made a mental note to thank the Elf for making her job a little bit easier for causing the little distraction to let her slip away. Clarisse cautiously made her way down from the tree, being careful not to slip on one of the tree's soaked limbs and accidentally fall to the ground. After a short climb down to a damp muddy earth, Clarisse made her down into the dense undergrowth lining the road and then into the woods where the other group she was watching was waiting.
"Get up you lazy dogs, time to do what you were paid for." Their leader said in a hushed tone as he approached his group of thugs, giving a sharp kick to the closest one to him that was dozing off. "Seems like we got us come comp'ney , two town guards, a young shifter, and a woman to be exact, and they seem to have run into a little trouble."
" We ain't dealin' with no guards 'specially this close to Marn." One of the larger thugs said to their leader, before crossing his arms and leaning up against a tree.
The Thug Leader shot him a piercing glane, "If you would let me finish you would understand, One of the guards is injured and the other is to blame. The guards will not be a problem, and as for the shifter, leave him to me if he gets out of hand. As for the rest of the plan, I will remain unseen until the last possible moment to keep the element of surprise, then run out and grab the girl, could use her as leverage for something."
Clarisse watched in silence from her hidden spot, listening in to the thugs plan brewing up one of her own. I'm not sure if this is a stroke of luck on my part, or someone else is trying to go after my prey. she thought to herself watching the thugs move to act out their plan. As the main group of thugs disapeared through the bushes Clarisse silently followed the thug who was to remain hidden, stalking him like a predatory beast in the shadows waiting to make her move.
"Get up you lazy dogs, time to do what you were paid for." Their leader said in a hushed tone as he approached his group of thugs, giving a sharp kick to the closest one to him that was dozing off. "Seems like we got us come comp'ney , two town guards, a young shifter, and a woman to be exact, and they seem to have run into a little trouble."
" We ain't dealin' with no guards 'specially this close to Marn." One of the larger thugs said to their leader, before crossing his arms and leaning up against a tree.
The Thug Leader shot him a piercing glane, "If you would let me finish you would understand, One of the guards is injured and the other is to blame. The guards will not be a problem, and as for the shifter, leave him to me if he gets out of hand. As for the rest of the plan, I will remain unseen until the last possible moment to keep the element of surprise, then run out and grab the girl, could use her as leverage for something."
Clarisse watched in silence from her hidden spot, listening in to the thugs plan brewing up one of her own. I'm not sure if this is a stroke of luck on my part, or someone else is trying to go after my prey. she thought to herself watching the thugs move to act out their plan. As the main group of thugs disapeared through the bushes Clarisse silently followed the thug who was to remain hidden, stalking him like a predatory beast in the shadows waiting to make her move.
Last edited by Clarisse on Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Kitan’s mind seized upon the new topic quite readily. He stood up quickly and meandered around Alexandros’s prone form. Grabbing hold of Morveya’s cloak, he helpfully returned to his original stance and enacted Morveya’s plan to create a rain guard.
Drawing out the soaking cloth initially splattered even more water onto Alexandros’s form, and Kitan winced in sympathy. “Sorry” he muttered, trying to hold the cloth taunt enough that the breeze wouldn’t shake it overmuch and disturb Morveya’s medical work. He didn’t really understand any of this, but that was okay.
A few more moments under the drizzle and Kitan very badly wanted to shake some of the drops off. His ears made perfect targets for the watery wrath of the heavens, but both his hands were needed by the cloak. He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, before ducking lower and sticking his head under the cloak. He gave a thin smile to his companions as they made an amusing two peg tent.
The constant patter rain on the cloak above his head lent an odd sort of peace to the atmosphere. Few words were exchanged, and its sound became the only noise, serene in its simple repetition. Until a new sound entered, a second patter, this one not of rain but of footsteps.
“There are people coming.” Kitan informed his friends, his head leaving the cloak momentarily to stare down the road. “We should see if they can help us.”
Drawing out the soaking cloth initially splattered even more water onto Alexandros’s form, and Kitan winced in sympathy. “Sorry” he muttered, trying to hold the cloth taunt enough that the breeze wouldn’t shake it overmuch and disturb Morveya’s medical work. He didn’t really understand any of this, but that was okay.
A few more moments under the drizzle and Kitan very badly wanted to shake some of the drops off. His ears made perfect targets for the watery wrath of the heavens, but both his hands were needed by the cloak. He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, before ducking lower and sticking his head under the cloak. He gave a thin smile to his companions as they made an amusing two peg tent.
The constant patter rain on the cloak above his head lent an odd sort of peace to the atmosphere. Few words were exchanged, and its sound became the only noise, serene in its simple repetition. Until a new sound entered, a second patter, this one not of rain but of footsteps.
“There are people coming.” Kitan informed his friends, his head leaving the cloak momentarily to stare down the road. “We should see if they can help us.”
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Alexandros
- Outsider
- Posts: 49
- Joined: Sun Oct 28, 2012 9:10 pm
- Name: Alexandros Dragesus
- Race: Human
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
Kitan looked glum by the droop in his ears. He hoped the kit didn't blame himself in some part for what had happened here - it wasn't on him. It was the foolishness of grown men that had brought them to this crossroads. Both Lurus and him had tussled like children and put all of them in danger. Alexandros felt strongly that his motive had been right, but could still see the means had been stupid.
"Thanks boy, don't look so glum - I'm fine." He wasn't - but Alexandros' smile was warm. A stark contrast to the chill wind that kissed his moistened bare chest. If he didn't get dressed soon he'd have a new problem on his hands. Sickness and maybe pneumonia. He adjusted his elbow in the mud slightly. It'd gone to sleep, holding up his weight to keep his chest mostly off the ground. It had to have made the task of wrapping his wounds a bit easier. He hoped so, anyway. As it was Alexandros felt a fool. Here he was, supposed to be protecting these two, and he was lying in the dirt while they tended him. Some guard.
"I'm going to sit up." Dragesus warned Morveya the medic. When she paused in her work he pushed himself up, with a subdued grunt of discomfort, to a seated position beneath Kitan and Morveya's tent. The movements came difficultly, deep sharp pains moving through his chest and abdomen. Deep. Alexandros felt pale at the thought that he'd come to close to being gut-shot. There were few worse and less dignified ways to go. Only the consideration that Kitan might have been hurt, had he not been hurt, served to dull the pain as Alexandros thighs lost first warmth and then feeling in the cold muddy water.
Alexandros stayed still as Morveya continued and finished her work. He let her hands go as they would, amber eyes followed her progress, as those fingers covered and then bound his wound. There was a technique to it he was sure: but Dragesus had been trained to be a guard, a warrior, and such things were admittedly beyond him except in their most basic application. Her fingertips had barely left his side when he heard Kitan speak again, voice soft over the persistent patter of the rain.
At first Alexandros said nothing as pain and inertia dulled his mind. Then, it blossomed throughout his consciousness. Someone had heard them. Someone had come down the road. They could not have been far. No farther than the recently departed man he'd laid to rest beneath the old willow. The guard's eyes shot open, his legs tensed beneath him, and he brought himself to a knee and then to stand. He was careful to move from beneath Morveya's cloak, so as not to entangle himself with her or Kitan.
The mud was slippery, and he nearly tumbled as he fully righted himself, but Alexandros caught his balance at the last moment. Now upright his armored boots stuck tight to the muck like glue. The step that followed his first was harder, having to be torn forcefully from the thick soup.
His armor was still unbanded and laying uselessly aside the road. There was no time to don it. Still, he had his axe, and Dragesus' hand fell to it instinctively as he strained his eyes to see what Kitan's keen orbs had noticed so easily. With a building sense of worry he called out to the wall of raindrops behind him. "Lurus! Lurus where are you!" The elf didn't answer. Alexandros heard only the rain and the beating of his own heart. He felt rainwater soaking his new bandages.
Bare-chested, wounded, and apparently alone but for the shifter-child and Morveya he stood precariously in the middle of the road. Alexandros saw a silhoutte then. Another. How many more? He wasn't sure, everything looked so grey. He just hoped they were merchants, pilgrims, or anything but the villian who'd made such bloody work of the woodsman's family. If it was that dark soul, or souls Alexandros guessed now, he'd make for a poor challenge in his state.
"Get back here, Lurus..." He whispered, half prayer and half hope.
"Thanks boy, don't look so glum - I'm fine." He wasn't - but Alexandros' smile was warm. A stark contrast to the chill wind that kissed his moistened bare chest. If he didn't get dressed soon he'd have a new problem on his hands. Sickness and maybe pneumonia. He adjusted his elbow in the mud slightly. It'd gone to sleep, holding up his weight to keep his chest mostly off the ground. It had to have made the task of wrapping his wounds a bit easier. He hoped so, anyway. As it was Alexandros felt a fool. Here he was, supposed to be protecting these two, and he was lying in the dirt while they tended him. Some guard.
"I'm going to sit up." Dragesus warned Morveya the medic. When she paused in her work he pushed himself up, with a subdued grunt of discomfort, to a seated position beneath Kitan and Morveya's tent. The movements came difficultly, deep sharp pains moving through his chest and abdomen. Deep. Alexandros felt pale at the thought that he'd come to close to being gut-shot. There were few worse and less dignified ways to go. Only the consideration that Kitan might have been hurt, had he not been hurt, served to dull the pain as Alexandros thighs lost first warmth and then feeling in the cold muddy water.
Alexandros stayed still as Morveya continued and finished her work. He let her hands go as they would, amber eyes followed her progress, as those fingers covered and then bound his wound. There was a technique to it he was sure: but Dragesus had been trained to be a guard, a warrior, and such things were admittedly beyond him except in their most basic application. Her fingertips had barely left his side when he heard Kitan speak again, voice soft over the persistent patter of the rain.
At first Alexandros said nothing as pain and inertia dulled his mind. Then, it blossomed throughout his consciousness. Someone had heard them. Someone had come down the road. They could not have been far. No farther than the recently departed man he'd laid to rest beneath the old willow. The guard's eyes shot open, his legs tensed beneath him, and he brought himself to a knee and then to stand. He was careful to move from beneath Morveya's cloak, so as not to entangle himself with her or Kitan.
The mud was slippery, and he nearly tumbled as he fully righted himself, but Alexandros caught his balance at the last moment. Now upright his armored boots stuck tight to the muck like glue. The step that followed his first was harder, having to be torn forcefully from the thick soup.
His armor was still unbanded and laying uselessly aside the road. There was no time to don it. Still, he had his axe, and Dragesus' hand fell to it instinctively as he strained his eyes to see what Kitan's keen orbs had noticed so easily. With a building sense of worry he called out to the wall of raindrops behind him. "Lurus! Lurus where are you!" The elf didn't answer. Alexandros heard only the rain and the beating of his own heart. He felt rainwater soaking his new bandages.
Bare-chested, wounded, and apparently alone but for the shifter-child and Morveya he stood precariously in the middle of the road. Alexandros saw a silhoutte then. Another. How many more? He wasn't sure, everything looked so grey. He just hoped they were merchants, pilgrims, or anything but the villian who'd made such bloody work of the woodsman's family. If it was that dark soul, or souls Alexandros guessed now, he'd make for a poor challenge in his state.
"Get back here, Lurus..." He whispered, half prayer and half hope.
-
Morveya Aris
- Citizen
- Posts: 110
- Joined: Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:04 pm
- Name: Morveya Aris
- Race: Human with Elf ancestry
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
In spite of initially dampening Alex a bit more, what Morveya really wanted was some cover whilst she prepared and applied the poultice. Under the open rain, it would become drenched to a degree that would convert it to so much herbal mush. The 'two-peg' tent was hardly ideal or optimal – but it more or less served its purpose, while she got that portion of it done. She flashed Kitan a slight, brief, but genuine smile, as his countenance suddenly appeared across from her.
Then her attention was again on the patient. In that shift of attention, some corner of her mind couldn't help but contrast the two. Kitan, with his irrepressible verve, wide-eyed and naive; yet paranormally alert to the minute sounds of the world. Something for which she some envied him, with her diminished hearing. And, Alexandros – grim seeming at times, matured beyond his years, from the responsibility-weighty role he'd chosen to take. The pillar of stability, to Kitan's ball of frenetic energy. The latter who made her want to comfort and care for him, soften for him the world's harsh edges. Which he seemed so blissfully bent on ignoring. And the former, who – made her feel secure. And protected. She had to admit that, though it galled her some. Servant of Marn's stultifying government, that he was. This current dip in his fortunes notwithstanding.
She really wanted to know how it had occurred. His injury. But wasn't going to ask, just yet.
Finishing up, Morveya was glad that what was the difficult part for herself was over. But, Alex's difficulties were far from over. They needed to get him fully clothed again, as soon as possible. He surely did not need the added complication of an illness, to boot. She nodded once he stated his intent to sit upright. His getting up was a fully messy affair – how could it be otherwise, in all this rain spawned muck. She opened her mouth to offer assistance, moved toward him a step –-
And then the fox-kin voiced they were about to have company. Those words caused her to freeze, abruptly.
“We should see if they can help us.”
Aye. If, in fact, they were friendly. Somewhere in these woods, was the twisted and blighted soul who had perpetrated that ghastly murder. Spirits help them all…what if it was more than one person-?
Alex's call to his associate went wholly unanswered.
Oh no, oh no; please. Not now…
The guardsman's eyes were fixed upon something suddenly, as he whispered some oath under his breath. She immediately followed his gaze, and saw them too. It was very hard to say who, or what. The environment all grey-gloom and vague, shadowy trees. But, if her hearing was lacking, her eyesight was none wanting. Those figures looked burly. Strong. Their approach a little over-swift for a chance meeting. Or a friendly one. And, yes…
"…they are armed!" she said in a low but audible voice, noting that each held something within their hand.
And then the figures broke towards them at a moderate run, as much as the sodden and muddy terrain would permit. Their menacing intent blandly obvious to all...
Then her attention was again on the patient. In that shift of attention, some corner of her mind couldn't help but contrast the two. Kitan, with his irrepressible verve, wide-eyed and naive; yet paranormally alert to the minute sounds of the world. Something for which she some envied him, with her diminished hearing. And, Alexandros – grim seeming at times, matured beyond his years, from the responsibility-weighty role he'd chosen to take. The pillar of stability, to Kitan's ball of frenetic energy. The latter who made her want to comfort and care for him, soften for him the world's harsh edges. Which he seemed so blissfully bent on ignoring. And the former, who – made her feel secure. And protected. She had to admit that, though it galled her some. Servant of Marn's stultifying government, that he was. This current dip in his fortunes notwithstanding.
She really wanted to know how it had occurred. His injury. But wasn't going to ask, just yet.
Finishing up, Morveya was glad that what was the difficult part for herself was over. But, Alex's difficulties were far from over. They needed to get him fully clothed again, as soon as possible. He surely did not need the added complication of an illness, to boot. She nodded once he stated his intent to sit upright. His getting up was a fully messy affair – how could it be otherwise, in all this rain spawned muck. She opened her mouth to offer assistance, moved toward him a step –-
And then the fox-kin voiced they were about to have company. Those words caused her to freeze, abruptly.
“We should see if they can help us.”
Aye. If, in fact, they were friendly. Somewhere in these woods, was the twisted and blighted soul who had perpetrated that ghastly murder. Spirits help them all…what if it was more than one person-?
Alex's call to his associate went wholly unanswered.
Oh no, oh no; please. Not now…
The guardsman's eyes were fixed upon something suddenly, as he whispered some oath under his breath. She immediately followed his gaze, and saw them too. It was very hard to say who, or what. The environment all grey-gloom and vague, shadowy trees. But, if her hearing was lacking, her eyesight was none wanting. Those figures looked burly. Strong. Their approach a little over-swift for a chance meeting. Or a friendly one. And, yes…
"…they are armed!" she said in a low but audible voice, noting that each held something within their hand.
And then the figures broke towards them at a moderate run, as much as the sodden and muddy terrain would permit. Their menacing intent blandly obvious to all...
Re: Family Ties - A Walk In The Woods
The grim figures approached, each stride causing their roguish outlines to appear more and more menacing. Silhouetted by the fog, their leather armored shapes looked more ogre than man, great hulking beasts with rocky carapaces rather than human skin.
They finally wandered up into clear view, revealed in full and terrible human glory. Their blades were drawn; daggers were found in all hands but for the biggest, wielding a claymore which had clearly seen better days. It was no less menacing for that— the weight of the steel alone seemed enough to break a man in two. His wide shoulders seemed designed to support the weapon, and the sheets of metal on those boulders were plainly scrapped together with bashing in mind. The scars crossed across his face let all know that he was a man who had lived and would die in violence.
The fox shifter took a few tentative steps forwards as the three thugs stood impassive across from the outmatched trio. The lead man looked down at him, a blunt and unapologetic stare. The rain splashed across his bald head as surely as it glistened upon his massive, blunted sword; occasionally the individual drops would run off either one of the two surfaces, diluting the brown or red in the puddles below.
“C-can,” Kitan started saying, but the gazes on him put an instinctive fear in the shifter, “Can you-” He failed to finish the question, even his limited understanding having concluded these men did not have their best interest at heart. Backpedaling to a location behind Alexandros, Kitan very nearly feel into the mud again.
One of those brutes looked them over and chuckled at the shifter; oddly, it sounded almost as nervous as Kitan appeared. The smaller bandit eyed Kitan warily as the shifter tried to shrink behind Alexandros’s bulk. The third one muttered something to him, which cause him to crack a plainly unintentional grin.
The big man in front held out one hand to silence him anyways. The momentary strain of supporting the claymore in one hand caused its tip to droop and his muscles to flex impressively. “We’ve no grudge against you guards. Or any of you.” His voice was deep, but quick. “And by the Changers, I just don’t care. The money from this job is worth enough to buy a good inn for weeks. Give us the woman or make peace with your god, guardsman.” He hefted his claymore up above his shoulder, ready to bring the full weight of gravity crashing down behind it. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just choose quick.”
His footfall hit the earth as he closed the distance, a cautious approach even to the unarmored guardsman. The splattering of mud had never echoed so completely as it did on that rainy day, the sound of his deadly approach filling the fox shifter’s ears with more fear than noise.
The fox shrunk away, scared and skittish for the second time on that bloodstained clearing. His posture so obviously alarmed, the chuckles of the leader’s men turned more genuine in their sadistic promise: blood would be spilled a second time today in this dark neck of the Virdara woods.
They finally wandered up into clear view, revealed in full and terrible human glory. Their blades were drawn; daggers were found in all hands but for the biggest, wielding a claymore which had clearly seen better days. It was no less menacing for that— the weight of the steel alone seemed enough to break a man in two. His wide shoulders seemed designed to support the weapon, and the sheets of metal on those boulders were plainly scrapped together with bashing in mind. The scars crossed across his face let all know that he was a man who had lived and would die in violence.
The fox shifter took a few tentative steps forwards as the three thugs stood impassive across from the outmatched trio. The lead man looked down at him, a blunt and unapologetic stare. The rain splashed across his bald head as surely as it glistened upon his massive, blunted sword; occasionally the individual drops would run off either one of the two surfaces, diluting the brown or red in the puddles below.
“C-can,” Kitan started saying, but the gazes on him put an instinctive fear in the shifter, “Can you-” He failed to finish the question, even his limited understanding having concluded these men did not have their best interest at heart. Backpedaling to a location behind Alexandros, Kitan very nearly feel into the mud again.
One of those brutes looked them over and chuckled at the shifter; oddly, it sounded almost as nervous as Kitan appeared. The smaller bandit eyed Kitan warily as the shifter tried to shrink behind Alexandros’s bulk. The third one muttered something to him, which cause him to crack a plainly unintentional grin.
The big man in front held out one hand to silence him anyways. The momentary strain of supporting the claymore in one hand caused its tip to droop and his muscles to flex impressively. “We’ve no grudge against you guards. Or any of you.” His voice was deep, but quick. “And by the Changers, I just don’t care. The money from this job is worth enough to buy a good inn for weeks. Give us the woman or make peace with your god, guardsman.” He hefted his claymore up above his shoulder, ready to bring the full weight of gravity crashing down behind it. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just choose quick.”
His footfall hit the earth as he closed the distance, a cautious approach even to the unarmored guardsman. The splattering of mud had never echoed so completely as it did on that rainy day, the sound of his deadly approach filling the fox shifter’s ears with more fear than noise.
The fox shrunk away, scared and skittish for the second time on that bloodstained clearing. His posture so obviously alarmed, the chuckles of the leader’s men turned more genuine in their sadistic promise: blood would be spilled a second time today in this dark neck of the Virdara woods.