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Swanheart Hill
The OOC Thread (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=24365)
Prologue
The First Heart
Sometimes you can feel something is wrong. You don't know what it is but something is terribly terribly wrong. This man felt this as he walked toward his store front, with his heart pounding. Every movement was dulled so he continued onward in a haze. His fingers touched the wooden door gently creaking it inward. It was supposed to be locked.
He breathed out a heavy breath. Slowly he opened the way to his store. The first thing he noticed was the drip of red splashing against the sandy soil. Inside was darkness but for the thin strip of the moonlight. Lining the floor was a layer of dark red liquid.
His eyes widened and he stepped forward into the dark room. Something hit his head, he fell down head smashing into the floorboards. Splashing, his cheek fell into the liquid and before he passed out his nosed picked up the strong scent.
Of Wine.
Water soaked his face and he woke up. There were two torches lit on opposite sides of the room and he himself sat against a wall in the center of them. No one had cleaned up the wine. He looked around seeing the destruction left by his attackers, they had torn the place to pieces.
The pair of them stood with their backs to him, one was big and the other not so. On the table beside them was a bowl, a torch and a single arrow.
“What do you want?” He asked them.
One of them, the smaller one turned, and he could see he wore a hood that kept his features hidden. “Answers.” Came the reply whispered back.
“Oh shit!” He croaked, he could hardly forget that voice, “Red Hood, your poor wife! I was so sorry to hear...” He trailed away as something smashed above his head. He hadn't been tied down but decided it wouldn't be the smartest thing to move. Debris and wine dropped into his hair.
“Hear? Hear?!” Hissed the Red Hood. He cowered away as the hooded man walked forward. Strong hands gripped his cheeks and he stared back into Robin's eyes. Full of rage, his mouth was sneering, and the old axe wound looked fiercer than normal. He was rattled for a moment.
“I, I don't understand!”
“You don't understand?” Growled Red Hood, “you don't understand why you sold her tainted wine!”
He woke up a moment later on the floor, an open wound on his head gushing. Holding a hand to his head he babbled, “I didn't know, I didn't know...”
One of them picked him up and put him back into the chair. He was sobbing quietly to himself but managed to say, “please don't kill me.”
“Look up.”
So he did and he looked across into the eyes of his wife, wearing the same clothing she had been wearing that morning. Unlike him she was not free to move, tied to her chair with great knots. She was gagged and couldn't speak to him. He cried out at the sight.
Red Hood stepped in front of him.
“You can't...” He whispered, “You won't!”
“No, you will. Like the wine I served my wife.”
He was pulled forth to the table and the big man took one of the torches from the wall. The wine seller then saw what was in the bowl. Oil.
“No.”
“Lift the bowl up.”
“No,” he said again taking a step back.
The Red Hood growled at him before picked up the bowl himself. Angrily he threw the bowl into the woman. The oil hit the wall behind her or fell to the ground. When turning back he drew a knife.
That's when the wine seller picked up the unlit torch – his hit took the Red Hood in the shoulder. Sending the man into a wall.
A flaming stick smashed into the wine seller's eyes.
When Robin pushed himself off the wall the wine seller was already dead. Morcal was quick.
“Fucking bastard.” He grunted.
He spared a look at the dead man's wife. Then untied her.
Chapter 1
A Gathering.
The Following Morning.
The big man, Morcal waited for Robin outside the man's home. He stared about annoyed into the street, the dawn light was particularly bright. He'd been awake most of the night. A man and woman walked too close to him so he opened his mouth and tapped the hilt of his sword. It had a rather large blade that made them scurry along.
Morcal leaned up against the building.
Robin emerged a little while later, thinking deeply.
“You alright?” Asked Morcal.
Robin shook his head and walked off, “come on.”
Morcal followed.
They arrived at the hall a short time later. Outside was a large wagon hitched to a donkey. There was a crowd gathered inside but Robin (with help from the larger Morcal) managed to get himself onto a small podium they had set up.
Before him was all the people he asked to be there, fighters, warriors, people he knew to be good at what needed to be done. Also people who had traveled into the wastelands many times.
“You'll probably know why I asked you here, I won't bother with explaining it.” Robin called out over the people, “I'm going into the wasteland to hunt down a demon but I'm going to need some help.” Robin looked out over the crowd, some of the people gathered had already began to push themselves out. Traveling into the wasteland was not for everyone.
Nearby the door a woman caught the interest of Robin, she was rather short with blonde hair. He nudged Morcal and nodded in her general direction.
“Right.” Grunted Morcal.
Robin focused on those that remained. “For any that come, I promise gold. Some now, some when we get back.” He shoved his thumb at the chest on the stage behind him before flicking it open. There were sacks in there. He lifted one out and opened it into his hands, the gold chimed.
“So, that's that, who's in?”
Kiall
01-06-2012, 10:26 PM
Bren looked at his would be employer. He had heard many stories about The Red Hood. He was said to be a killer, a butcher, though he had never taken much stock in those tales. In his experience there was usually quite a difference between a man and his reputation, at least in most cases.
Though he had to wonder about the job he was offering, only a fool would go after a demon for no reason. It had the smell of something more personal, but what? Revenge? Regardless, it seemed as good a hopeless cause as any to join.
He stood up to his full height, careful not to hit the roof of the wagon, “So that’s it then? We go out and become great monster slayers?” he said wryly walking forward. “Certainly hope you aren’t relying on us to track down this beastie, I can barely guide my pecker out of my leggings without a compass and two maps!” He exclaimed emitting a few barking laughs.
He grinned standing in front of The Red Hood. “Names Bren, not much for conversation, but if you need some killing done I’m your man!” he grinned shoving his meaty and smudged with dirt paw in front of the man for him to shake.
Wattz
01-07-2012, 12:31 AM
Little Ruby needed no offers of gold, though she certainly hoped the brute would be generous enough to land a few coins in her satchel by the end. Her arms were crossed, and she glared up at Robin and his giant of a lap dog, but a pout would do her no good. Ruby’d have to play this smooth, approach this with caution. Schmoozing hadn’t helped her earlier, but to aggravate a man like Robin was just… puerile.
Speaking of which…
“Ah, yes!” she exclaimed with a clap to the tall man’s joke. “Of course, it must be far too small to dig out of your massive trousers, yes?” Ruby gave a hearty wink towards Bren. Ah, yes, she did love a good jest.
“Count me in as well, good Robin. My name is Ruby, as you already know.” The woman’s smile was strained, but it was there nonetheless. She’d just have to keep it up as much as possible.
But she continued to curse herself, though nothing could be done. Robin knew her real name, and that was all the incentive she needed.
Am I forced to have any regret?
I've become the lie, beautiful and free, In Flames, 'Only For The Weak'
***
He felt the heat from the fireplace warming up his body as the flames played tricks of shadow and light with orange and black colors around the small chamber. When he got bored of just staring into the nothingness he raised himself slowly from the warm mattress, arching his back a bit to lean on his arms as he breathed into his nostrils the sweet intoxicating smell of the young woman that rested beside him. He smirked as he allowed his warm hand to pass over her curvy body's parts, slowly drawing the lines of her hips and belly, his fingers digging into her skin as he hummed peacefully. He then entangled his fingers with locks of her silky raven hair, enjoying the sensation a while longer before he turned to sit on the bed, away from her, as he started to dress up.
It was another wonderful night he spent with her. True, she was inexperience enough for his liking, but such was to be expected from someone who had only recently started to interact sexually with the opposite gender. Yet, he could have always gave her up in favor of some other local bitch or money brought whore, but he enjoyed her far more than he did with most of his ladies. There was something about her, her excitement and inquiring nature that grabbed ahold of him the moment he met her. Wise and beautiful beyond her years, a rare combination to find. She was willing to go and try new things with him, even if his reputation of a 'bad boy' should have been enough to make her act more carefully.
Then again, he knew he was irresistible. He knew that from the start she should have been an easy prey to use and throw after only one night, leaving the impression he will come back for her. Ha. As if. She had everything he could hope to use for his advantages, she was innocent, pure and most of all naive. She should have fell for him without extra effort from his side, but then she just... proved him wrong...
Sure, he liked the fact she played hard to get at first, but even after she gave herself to him one night, it was far from silencing his hunger for her.
He took a deep breath, exhaling, knowing perfectly well what would come next...
It was too bad... He was going to miss her... Her cheerfulness, her eagerness. Sure she could be annoying at times, like any women could, but she was just cute enough to make her childish attributes to seem as not so bothering as they otherwise should have been.
However...
She became far too close to him, far more precious than he wish her to be, and therefore she was a weakness. A weakness he shall rid off tonight.
Carefully withdrawing the small dagger from the leather scabbard, he approached her and raised the blade, making it shine by reflecting the moonlight's rays that pierced into the small window. He took a deep breath before he heaved it and stabbed it into her body.
Watching the crimson blood spilling over the bed, he leaned above her and slowly licked the blood that poured from her chest, the blade placed right at where her hear was located.
A fitting death.
***
"What do you want from me?".
Nathaniel took another step forward, tossing the dead body before him, "I want immortality... I want power.... I want youth... I want to be a god".
"You're a fool!"
"I WANT POWER DAMMIT!", Nathaniel cried, his beautiful eyes piercing and glittering even in this gloomy cave, "I want power, and you are going to give me that!".
Muffle sounds of moving metal were heard as the fiend move closer for the light which was produced by the touched held in Nathaniel's left hand. It raised itself slowly to reveal a chained naked visage which had a feminine attributes. Aside of the outer line it had no clear shape or parts, and looked like a mess of air within some limits of what appeared to be a body.
"You're a fool, son of Kilth, Your clan have locked me up here for generations, I have no power and I shall certainly would not spare some in favor for the likes of you".
"Is that so?", Nathaniel titled his head, studying the creature and trying to understand what could its expressionless void for a face would mean. Humans were so much more easier to read. They frowned when they were upset, they got angry when they heard bitter news, upset when losing a close partner, happy with a joyful or fortunate event, surprise with a bad one. Demons, or other creatures on the other hand, were behaving with other morals and thinking; it was no easy task for a human to understand them. And still Nathaniel aimed to achieve just that, having no desire to abandon an obstacle undone.
Maybe that is way he decided not to negotiate when he went straight for his winning card, "I'll free you", he said slowly.
The aura around the creature seemed to turn lighter, as if it was easier to stand beside it.
Good. It meant it was willing to listen.
He carried on, "I'll even give out of my way to give you a body".
The creature made a gesture, scanning the woman's corpse before her, "Why would the son of Kilth give me such a present? She is dead, but it's hard not to feel the attachment she had for you. Dare I say you hold the same for her?"
"Think none of this", Nathaniel said firmly.
"Very well...".
"A body... and in exchange power and protection...", said Nathaniel with a grin.
The demoness made a weird sound, which Nathaniel could only understand as a laughter, "So be it!".
With a quick nod Nathaniel started to utter words in unknown ancient language. The spall was so powerful his robes and hair were ruffled by a sudden burst of magic and wind that appeared out of the blue and light up the cave instantly with illumination of thousands suns.
The demoness screeched as the metallic chains that bound her broke and shattered as if they were nothing but sand. With glee she started to hover from there, steadfast on fleeting the foolish mortal before he could bind her again. She never planned to play into his game to begin with. She thought of him as a powerless fool. He looked firm, but truth was he possessed almost no magical talent at all. Hell, it took at least eight powerful shamans from his dying tribe to lock her up when she was at her prime, she wouldn't let this shame of a man to outsmart her.
Sadly, he was ready.
Rubbing the red gem on the ring placed at his index finger, he started to chant something, which rose another burst of power that hit him again, as it forced the female demon into the body of the dead woman.
The maiden's eyes burst wide open as she gasped for air, breathing the first breath of life in her new form. Looking around with anger she glowered at Nathaniel. She watched him falling to his knees, the strong chant he has unleashed devastated him enough to make him lose balance and almost caused him to faint right where he was. Leaning on his back he watched with sprawled limbs, that held no strength to raise or fight, as she hovered above him, climbing on him, reaching her formally dead hands for his neck, aiming to chock the life out of him, now that he was so helpless before her.
He only smiled, teasing her to do as she pleased; urging her to seize the chance and revenge.
She frowned at this and unleashed more power only to realize she couldn't kill him. Surprised, she raised her hands before her, trying to study what was wrong.
He laughed, weakly pointing at his ring, "You're mine... My goddess", he said with a husky voice, chuckling and coughing from the effort.
She gritted her teeth and fasten her hands as a loud cry escaped her lips in a frustration.
***
After a long hour they got out of the cave, he led the way as she was dragged by unseen force to follow him, "You better get used to it, dear", he said once they approached another man who stood beside three horses.
She tsked as she pulled herself above the saddle of one of them, "I see what you want", she said slowly, with a defeated voice, "By entering this human female's body I shall become one with her. In a sense you are just going to turn me into something you wished her to be... I see her memories... I feel her emotions... No matter how much I despise the sight of you, No matter how much I want to kill you... Deep inside I know that she is going to grow on me...".
Nathaniel nodded with a silly smile, "You read me well. I could have turned for any demon I wanted, way lower than you , weaker than you, easier to control than you. But I chose you. You, Azaria, the demonic embodiment of fire, of life, of light...", he raised his hands for her cheeks, feeling them burn under his touch as an involuntary act of blushing colored her face red, "... of lust...", he licked his lips as she looked away from him, not very pleased with this foolish human emotion she had just experienced with nothing to encourage her to feel it but just his swift caress and the touch of his skin.
He ascend his horse, "Such a goddess as you, is worthy by my side", he chuckled, "And soon, I shall be a proper powerful rule to you".
"I shall never succumb to your filthy desire human", she said.
He gave a wink to the other man beside him, "We will see about that..."
And the three rode from there, aiming for the local town.
***
To the offer of Robin, Nathaniel stepped forward, presenting his companions; A dark tanned skin man by the name of 'Qadir', and another person, a woman, who decided to keep herself hidden by her hood.
"My name is Nathaniel Welsh", he gesture with a polite bow and a rich smile, "I am at your service, of course".
There was just something so delicious about people like the type of Robin. When they wanted something, they could turn so eager that they would do anything to get what they want...
And the best part of all was the fact they didn't care from who they got the help, nor would they ask questions.
Which for Nathaniel was Just perfect.
Extraordinaire.
01-13-2012, 03:28 AM
Celeste entered the familiar village with an open mind, doubting that anyone would recognize her. Two years prior to her visit, she had been caught in the jewelry, restocking her valuables. They had locked her in the back or a horse carriage on the way their prison, but the cart didn't oppose a threat to her and was almost insultingly easy to break free from. Normally, she wouldn't dare to play with the flames and revisit the crime scene, but a certain exchange was made, that she couldn't back away from. The blood of a man named Robin, in exchange for a poison she had been searching for and a thousand gold. A fair enough of a trade, for a simple village man. And she would perform no lesser than what was expected: without flaw.
As she entered the town, she grabbed the hood of her cape and slowly masked her face with the rich material. Her hair was articulately braided down to the small of her back and her face had a shadow cast over it. The burnt gold cape draped over her body in a very classical style, melting into a puddles around her feet. Her two slender hooked-blades were wedged between her knee-high grey boots and thick leather pants.
Placing her hands behind her back, she walked steadily into the city, her head ducked down. Before she had the chance to ask someone for directions to the Robin figure, she heard yelling and peeked around the corner, to find a man delivering a heated speech on a podium.
Curiously wandering over to the crowd, but definitely keeping her distance, she studied the man. Pulling out a worn slip of paper from her sleeve, she glance at the rough sketch of a man, to the man raving on about something. She had found a match.
Suspicious to the simplicity of her task, she felt as if her mark had come to her. While thinking of how the attention he brought himself would make her task more challenging, she caught a snippet of what he was announcing, “-into the wasteland to hunt down a deamon.”
Her eyes widened as several people offered their assistance, but the small female stared at the ground.
"What kind?" she suddenly blurted aloud, her voice distant, her accent foreign. She had always had an almost shrill voice that sounded much too young for her age, as a few bystanders stared at her in disbelief. "What kind of deamon are you hunting down?" she corrected herself, taking a hesitant step backwards.
He was panting by the time the hall came into his view. Sweat was dripping into his eyes and his cheeks were red. He'd run all through town and from the farm to be there. Peter was later than he'd hoped to arrive. From the distance he could see people inside and a cart ready and waiting. Peter pushed himself onward and felt another thump on his back. He'd regretted the old battleaxe ever since he'd found it, it was heavy and awkward.
---
Victoria was content to check over the pair of donkeys that headed the cart, pleased that she could avoid entering the throngs of people for a few moments longer. In truth, there was no need for her to be inside at all – Her place on the trip was already guaranteed. She knew, however, that it was vital to find out whom she would be travelling with before the group left town. It was not that she felt endangered by the people she had seen enter, but she would not trust them with a single copper of her money.
Her magic was not made to protect from silent knives in the night.
---
Peter reached the cart and leaned up against is breathing heavily. Despite his urgent run and fear of being left behind he couldn't help but smile. He'd made it before everyone left. Wherever Robin was taking these people he was determined to come. Do something great, become like the great Sentinel or perhaps known like Burnt Fingers.
The crowd inside did already look pretty daunting, he recognised some of the people from stories. The rest just looked tough.
“Well here goes this!” Peter said to himself walking around the cart.
Victoria had had the same idea at that exact moment, bracing herself to enter the fray of thugs. She had to flinch back to stop herself from walking right into the man. Her mind reeled in that moment’s breath – Had he noticed her? Did she want him to notice her? Surely it would be better to enter with a male accompaniment, wouldn’t it?
Falling back onto her other foot without visible hesitation, she released an audible ‘Oh!’ of feigned surprise and tried to look flustered.
Surprised and somewhat ashamed that he's nearly walked into someone, Peter cowed his head, "so sorry miss." He looked at her expecting a vicious warrior but she was nothing of the sort. She seemed out of place amongst all the fighters.
Oh shit, maybe she was a poisoner, Peter looked at her again. Could be, wasn't there suppose to be someone around town like that? He bowed his head respectfully in case.
"Are you entering too? Looking to work with Red Hood?"
She was not used to answering questions, more prone to asking them. Still, she was amused by how easy it had been to strike up a conversation with one of the men. His politeness had not been expected.
“I’ve already been given work.” She dipped her head respectfully as she replied, “I was only going to enter to see who else might be accompanying me. Yourself?”
Already given work? Oh dear, maybe he was right? Was she a poisoner? Instead of voicing his suspicions Peter replied, "wow, yes, I plan to be coming along. In fact I should probably go in."
“Oh, excellent!” she exclaimed. Although he did not invite her to join him, she acted as though he had, falling in beside him happily and waiting to continue forth into the crowds. “I go by the name Victoria. I’m not much of a fighter; they only hired me to drive the wagon.”
Well that made Peter feel a little silly. "I'm Peter, I'll hope to be coming with you then."
[Co-op with V]
The Bartender
01-14-2012, 10:28 AM
Freya was totally standing out in the tent. Everyting else was dark and colourful, or black. She was the only one totally white there, looking like a part of a painting that the artist had forgotten to paint. She listened the words of Red Hood with interest. She had no interest in money, she was more interested in the demon they were going to hunt. She put her hand on her hip, where her sword was. It was a weapon of an assassin, almost invicible and swift. The feeling of cold metal always soothed her mind because she knew if she felt something, she was still alive. But for how long? This curse had been laying on her for over 2 years now, corrupting her body and mind, weakening her, making her capable of only fighting in groups or by suprise. It was impossible to fight head-to-head with her body so weak, but the demonic powers would heal her, she was sure about it.
As the Red Hood stopped talking and asked who is with him, Freya walked to him and said with weak voice;
"I don't need money, all I want is the corpse of the demon after we killed it."
After he was done he didn't know what to expect, hunting demons because they had come close to the
town was one thing. But entering the wasteland simply to hunt them was something else altogether. Something foolish perhaps.
The first to come forth was a giant of a man, his head matching up to Robin's even as he stood on the stage. He made a joke about his cock, Robin smiled and gave a quick chuckle as Ruby made a comment as well. “Don't you worry, I have that all sorted.” He replied evasive. It included going into the wasteland. And that was about it.
“I've heard of you, Thunderclap, welcome aboard Bren.” He said and tipped his gold coins back into the pouch. He placed it in the warriors hand as they shook in agreement.
“And you too Ruby, I'm quite surprised you've agreed to this. But happy nonetheless.” Robin picked out another pouch and tossed it through the air.
Morcal was nearby and towering over the short woman, he nodded to Robin but remained nearby. At least he hadn't been required to convince the woman, at least not yet. The Golden Imp was a grand liar however, she'd be able to talk her way out of the room with no trouble. Probably into and out of Bren's large trousers in the process.
The only advantage Robin had over her, was he knew she was the Golden Imp, a secret she'd held dear to herself. And he intended to use it to the fullest.
"My name is Nathaniel Welsh", he gesture with a polite bow and a rich smile, "I am at your service, of course".
Robin frowned at this one, he didn't seem much like a fighter and he talked like a man from one of the three kingdoms – all polite like hiding lies. Still Robin nodded to him and his companions. The dark skinned man beside him looked tough and the woman was mysterious. Could be dangerous. Three more people helping could help them survive and return safely.
“Welcome Nathaniel, what are your companions' names?” He asked
"What kind?"
"What kind of deamon are you hunting down?"
Spoke a woman in the crowd, Robin turned to the oddly foreign voice and found her there, she had pale skin and messy hair. His voice turned cold and spiteful as he responded “a Stone-Eater.”
As soon as he replied a quiet weak voice whispered to him. "I don't need money, all I want is the corpse of the demon after we've killed it."
He found the owner quickly, her body more the colour of bone that any skin tone he'd ever seen. She may the previous woman look to have a healthy tan. The white clothing she wore didn't help her at all. A voice whispered in his mind Ghost.
Robin nodded his okay. “All I ask is you leave its heart to me.”
There wasn't a lot that could be done with a Stone-Eater heart. And most things weren't worth the risk of hunting down the demon. If others had these thoughts they would know he needed the cure to stoneskin.
He looked from between the two pale demon hunters and he asked, “do you ladies have names?”
By that point all that were uninterested with the task had left them to their meeting. An aging warrior named Thramor who Peter recognised as Long Shirt, and a thin emotionless woman known as Selena the Spider were the last to join up with Robin.
“I wish to journey with you too Red Hood,” Peter called from beside Victoria. He gave a welcoming smile and tapped his hand against his old worn axe, “my name is Peter.” He didn't know what he'd done to deserve the long look that Red Hood gave him but he sighed in relief when the archer gave him a wild grin.
“Sure, boy,” Robin said, there was genuine humour in his voice. Looking at Peter he could see himself a decade ago, young and ready to fight things. Hell the young man had a battleaxe too. He threw a pouch of coins at him, “buy a better weapon before we leave.” Peter, who was busy picking the pouch of the floor nodded in reply.
Robin jumped down to the room with the others. Fourteen was as good a number as any to take into the wasteland, and certainly a lot better than he'd hoped to take. He nodded toward Victoria, “This is Victoria, she'll be driving our cart of supplies. If you have anything that needs to carried there is some room left in the cart. But the rest is full of our food for the journey.”
There was nothing to hunt on the wasteland, and the plants that grew were inedible.
“We plan to get underway within an hour, so if you need to do something before then get it done quick. I'll be waiting at the Western Gate until then.”
Extraordinaire.
01-14-2012, 04:28 PM
Celest was amused by the tone of his voice when he mentioned the stone eaters, wondering what suffering they had caused him. Steadily darting her way through the crowd, she nimbly lifted herself up with the other passengers, trying to keep her distance. She kept her head ducked, pointing to the dirt. "Just a few more minutes," she reminded herself, not wanting to reveal her identity, quite yet. She pointed out the shopkeeper who she had stole from, a round man with puffed cheeks.
"Where are we headed to, exactly?" she asked the leader of their conquest, rather than giving him her name. She would ease up to the crowd, once she was sure that they were actually going through with his plan.
Looking around at the other members, she realized his odd if a situation this was. None of them looked particularily equipped to fight a stone eater, nor did they have any history of fighting together. Figuring that they would review battle tactics and techniques wherever they set up their camp, she kept to herself.
The Bartender
01-15-2012, 06:58 PM
"I can live without the heart." Freay answerd to Red Hood. She didn't know what the man would do with the heart, but it wasn't her problem. She walked out of the tent and wrapped the scarf around her face to cover it from the burning sun. She then walked to her own tent to check up her supplies and weapons...
Wattz
01-17-2012, 01:28 AM
Ruby caught the pouch with ease, then tucked it away for safe keeping. She smiled from the sound of gold, but her mind raced with a slew of oaths she wished the hurl towards the Red Hood. Just looking at his smug face brought a sour taste to her mouth. And of course, the enormous brute called Morcal was doing his best to intimidate, bless his little heart.
And the others, what of them? Most of them appeared capable, willing, ready, like a bunch of shady fucks scraped out of the shadows. It would be foolish to suspect any less. She certainly was not so sure of that Peter fellow, tripping over his rusty axe like a clown in a carnival. And Victoria the driver, now she was quite a delicate little flower now, wasn’t she? Ruby hoped she wouldn’t wilt the moment they stepped out of the gate.
“As you wish, good sir Robin.” Ruby gave a sweeping bow before turning around abruptly and exiting the room, but not before craning her neck to glare at Morcal. She had no reason to skip town.
With one hour left, Ruby made her way to the nearest pub, sitting herself at the bar between two toothless miners. She used some of the coin in the newly-acquired purse to purchase a mug of black ale, then downed it with such fierceness that it made both of the miners stare. Feeling comfortably hazy, Ruby pushed herself away before she bought out the entire pub, tempting as it was. She was no stranger to finishing a job while drunk, but she doubted that her and Robin would see eye to eye on the matter.
Ruby made it to the Western Gate with plenty of time to spare. She took a coin out of her pocket and began flicking and catching it, little metallic tings echoing out as she did so.
Kiall
01-17-2012, 03:26 AM
Bren laughed long and hard at the woman’s trouser comment. Damn but she had a yard of guts! Surprising coming from such a little lady, he grinned and nodded at the words of his new employer quickly tucking the coins into his pocket. He was surprised at the name of the quarry, damn but a stone eater! And apparently this wasn’t a bounty thing, or vengeance. He wanted to cure someone of stoneskin, that was the only thing he could think they heart would be good for…but who? He shrugged mentally, if it was important he’d find out, otherwise it was none of his business.
He looked around, they seemed like fine enough companions, though he did not like that one man Nathaniel… He seemed out of place, more suited to life in some estate or palace than on the road, but that wasn’t what made him uneasy. It was vaguer than that, just a general feeling that he was more dangerous than he let on, his feelings weren’t help by the cold shiver he got when he glanced at the hooded woman that travelled with him.
If he had been in any other situation he would have trusted his instincts and simply left, two things stopped him though. One he had given his word to see this mission through, he would not take this man’s money and walk away, second was the simple fact was that he joined purely because of the danger, did it really matter if he got a bad feeling from his companions?
He continued his musings, slipping slowly into melancholy as he thought about his younger days. He stopped seeing a wine store that had caught his eye. He bought four bottles of red wine with his money, he had always had a weakness for it, he might as well enjoy it now he doubted he’d get a chance to buy more.
Popping out the cork he slung the bottle back drinking the tart liquid. He made it to the west gate surprised to see the small woman, Ruby he heard her called standing there flicking and catching a gold coin with practiced ease. “I’ve seen lovers do less fondling than you do with that coin lass,” he said snorting with laughter leaning against a wall and taking another gulp from his bottle. “Care for a drink? Swigging this stuff straight out of the bottle always makes me feel like a lonely drunk,” he said pulling out another bottle from his pack offering it to her, “much rather feel like a well liked drunk if given the choice,” he said chuckling. “Careful though lass, wouldn’t want a tiny thing like you taking too many sips and stumbling about before we even get on the road,” he said teasingly, his eyes giving her a friendly challenge.
"Where are we headed to, exactly?"
Robin smiled, "deep into the wasteland, nearly to the shore. To Swanheart Hill." He told them all before he left.
Despite the long history of the place being famous for battles, it was one of the highest points in the whole of the wasteland and the closest place to town. From the top one could see further. And Robin hoped that it would allow them to spot their demon.
~~
"Well," demanded the store owner giving young Peter a hard look. "Is it a deal? I have other customers perhaps wishing to examine these items."
Peter looked at the counter again. Despite all the haggling he'd done, trying to work down the price of his items he still felt like he was being cheated. But he was in a bit of a hurry and didn't have the time to long elsewhere. He sighed making the decision, "alright then."
He handed over his recently acquired coin pouch and collected up his new gear. With that Peter left the store as poor as he'd been at the start of the day. But he'd gained a shield, a knife, and some gloves. None of it in perfect condition, one of the gloves had a hole in it, but it would perhaps help him live a little longer. The knife kept jabbing him as he walked, the pointy end of it's sheath sticking into his thigh.
Peter hoped he had enough time to the gate and hurried along.
~~
Selena the spider entered the rundown shack, forcing the door open with one hand. The other remained close be her side with a hidden blade in easy reach.
He was waiting, sitting in the only chair. Selena walked inside and the floorboards creaked as the man shuffled. He was heavily built and wore minimal clothing like a barbarian. He also had a large saber in his hand.
"The Wine Seller is dead."
Selena nodded at that, she'd walked by the building earlier seeing the results. "His wife fled?"
The man made an irritated noise, "I don't know."
She shrugged. Meant nothing to her.
"Remember why this is happening," the man warned her. And she did. With hatred she almost crossed the room to her death. But she simply stared - her hand ever closer to thin knife. There was nothing she could do but follow his orders. And hope there would be no harm.
"I will have him dead."
"Or there is going to be a lot more blood Selena."
Once Robin's meeting had concluded with those willing to accompany him, they had made their way through the uneven windy roads of the town. Morcal was leading the way in front of the donkeys to keep others from interrupting them. And Robin walked beside the cart.
Although free of the bustling streets in the centre of town, he waited until they were right at the outskirts before conversing with Victoria. In a hushed tone he spoke, "Victoria, remember why you are here. You don't have to come." Despite Robin's voice being calm and peaceful there was an obvious threat behind it.
She shrugged her shoulders in nonchalant fashion, “Hopefully, you’ve recruited enough strong-arms to keep me out of harm’s way. Like I promised, I’ll keep back and offer help only when it becomes dire.” She adjusted her clothes absently, dreading the muscle aches that would come from riding on the cart for so long. “At least, if I attend this journey, you’ll have one trustworthy person nearby.”
"Perhaps you're right, it's good to know there will be someone ready for our defense." Robin agreed. Any malice that he'd previously spoken with was gone.
He walked on quiet for some time before muttering. "Sorry, I'm on edge about this whole thing."
As his tone softened, she allowed herself to relax; she assumed that he was unlikely to do the same but men who fought were often as such.
“I would expect nothing different, considering your situation,” she murmured. She had no doubts for their safety, confident enough in her abilities that she could protect them, but success was another matter. “We have a way to go though, Robin. Agitation will do you no favours now.”
"Yeah," he said. Sometimes he just couldn't contain it, sometimes he didn't want to. But Victoria had nothing to do with irritations, and was only their because he'd used her secret against her.
"It's hard leaving while she is dying like that," Robin whispered, "but I can't watch it happen."
Victoria offered him a comforting pat of the back but didn’t linger with the gesture, murmuring her words so they were not overheard, “We have more than enough men. You will succeed. She will live.”
[Co-op with V... again]
Victoria had driven their two donkeys to the main western gate. Morcal and Robin had set to checking over their supplies while they waited. It wasn't the first time the bigger man had done so and quickly identified pieces of their inventory. Robin frowned at each item questioning wether they had a purpose worthy enough to take up space. Ultimately there was still a small amount of room for the others to place belongings.
Morcal made sure their water containers were full. It rained often out in the wastelands, unnaturally so, and it poured down bucket loads when it did. Without the heavy rains the place was practically impassable. Streams, rivers, lakes, whatever other natural water source that could be named simply didn't exist out there.
Once their check was done, Robin fell quiet dwelling on his wife. He'd already fare welled her that morning but he wished he could see her once more before they left. But he'd promised to bring back a cure with him. Her sister was looking after her until his return.
Morcal grunted, "look out for this one," before nodding to something behind Robin. He took a few steps away but kept himself ready for anything.
Morcal usually had the right of things and Robin trusted his judgment more than his own sometimes. Nathaniel Welsh, the body guard and hooded woman approached him. Cautious Robin smiled and said, "you're a little early Nathaniel."
The blond man smiled and nodded slowly, "Aye, good sir, early rises are the first to catch their... prey... So I've been told anyway... I'm sure you feel eager as me to leave this place behind, are you not?", he chuckled and his blue eyes flashed for a moment as he looked at his two companions before straightening his gaze at Morcal who tried to avoid eye-contact with him.
He doesn't like me, aye? Sharp instincts, but it's not going to play in my favor, better play it carefully If I am to get that 'Lover Boy' trust
Coughing slowly Nathaniel added, "And by all means, good Robin, I am forced, and against my better will I must add, to bring a certain subject for you to look upon and be aware of".
Robin didn't respond to Nathaniel's first question, he was definitely not eager to leave. He frowned and felt the pangs of growing grief and worry inside of himself. Eager wasn't there, just necessity.
"And what must that be?" Robin asked in a tense voice. He hadn't missed the quick glance at Morcal.
Grinning like a hungry wild wolf Nathaniel bowed deeply, all the while keeping his eyes fixed at Robin, "It is about the subject of the payment, good sir", he said with a serious tune, "It is not money that fascinating me, dear sir, but something else..."
"There is always one who wants more," Robin growled. But he softened his tone asking, "and what else do you want?" If he didn't think he'd need the extra fighters Robin would have turned him down. The wasteland was a cruel place.
"Certainly...", he said, beckoning to Robin to advance for his direction. Robin wasn't pleased by it, and he exchanged gazes with Morcal, until Robin nodded and approached Nathaniel. Once Robin was close enough Nathaniel put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, with his mouth close he whispered in Robin's ear, "I don't need money, but I do need my goods. For that I will require exclusive passage over the lands you control. You will recognize my organization's emblem and allow me a swift, tax-less passage. No questions need to be answered... a contract which shouldn't cost much to you, compare to the price you offer over the demon's head... or heart so to say", Nathaniel chuckled, amused by his witty pun, "As for me...", he leaned in closer, "I want a land...", he moved away presenting his two henchmen by merely sprawling his hands on either side, "I have confident in my power... And I'll prove to be worthy for all that I ask... But a good help is so hard to find nowadays...", he shook his head, "I ask much, but I shall give my best to you, you can count on it, good sir".
While Robin didn't particularly control much land and trade inside of the town, he did have a certain amount of influence. With that he could easily .... enforce Nathaniel's desires. "I'm sure I can come with something of that nature," Robin said cautiously. "It wouldn't be an immediate but I can work something here..."
"Land...? You're asking a lot, if we both return safely.... we will negotiate this." He said with a smile. He wasn't going to give everything to the man right away.
"Of course...", he nodded, "that's all I ask...", he grinned.
The Bartender
01-19-2012, 06:33 AM
Freya was approaching the gate and the carriage which would escort them into the wastelands. She saw few people there, controlling the supplies and talking with eachother.
She had her backpack with her, full of supplies and her weapons as well.
As she arriwed to the carriage, the man called Robin was talking with the one called Nathaniel. Robin looked a bit disturbed, but she didn't care about them more than that.
She also saw Wictoria and Morcal, but none else yet.
Extraordinaire.
01-19-2012, 08:53 PM
An hour's time.
What was she supposed to do for an hour? Awkwardly linger around the carriage, blank stares exchanged between her and all of the people who would be soon forgotten from her life? Or was she expected to mingle with the town's people, maybe share a drink or too with the local drunk? She respected the time given to prepare, but how was someone who had no purpose reentering the city, supposed to occupy herself?
Then she remembered her purpose in the city, before entering the man- her fatefully lucky victim's speech. Need be known that she wasn't going to finish the man off, with such a great need bonded by the two. But what would the man say, if she fails him? He was not a forgiving soul, surely not someone to come crawling back to, empty handed. What if he killed her instead? And abandoning Kronos was not an option, no matter how alluring the thought may be, she knew that she relied on their potion's, more than they relied on her dirty work.
"Remember where you stand," she thought to herself, aimlessly wandering through the town. This was one stone-eater, one demon that they were going to kill. She couldn't risk her entire system, sacrificing the trust of her most noble employer, just for the blood of one demon. One demon didn't compromise the death of a whole town and she soon began to realize how unsatisfying this quest may turn out to be.
Lingering in the pub for at least half of the time, she felt the bag of coins pressed beneath her belt, squished unnaturally against her stomach, as she leaned over the table. Alcohol seemed like the only thing that could suppress her anxiety, but she knew better than to spend a fraction of her reward, on something that wouldn't last. And what was the murmur of a poisoned wine that she had heard of, when she first entered the city?
Standing up, she quickly tore the pouch of noisy coins off of her belt, dropping her loot into the thin satchel draped over her shoulder. As she walked towards the door, the thin hood of her cloak slid down her back, as fly aways stuck off of the girl's messy brown hair.
A figure paused outside of the door and by the time her eyes had adjusted from the glaring sun, she stood face to face with the grim-faced jeweler. "Why hello," she said in a light tone, her grin turning into a sneer, as she brushed past her old friend.
She should have been more concerned by his expression, but knowing that in minutes they'd be off and she'd never have to look back, she saw no harm in having a little fun. Returning to the cart, she was sure that they would head off soon and so they did accordingly.
Untying the thin cloak, she draped it in front of her, hanging over her crossed arms. What was there to worry be? The girl gained few enemies and she knew that this would take longer than she had estimated, so she might as well get a good look of her peers.
Chapter 2
Farewell Home.
After the arrival of Celest and Freya, the party was almost complete. Not long later Thramor arrived having equipped himself with weapons. A short sword was strapped to his shoulder and a long spear was in his hand. He gave a nod to both Robin and Morcal before settling in beside the drinking Bren and Ruby.
The spider appeared a minute or two later, her actions were calm but her eyes darted about skittish. Selena kept her back to Morcal but somehow managed a smile at their leader. She settled near the cart and closed her eyes.
"Alright," Robin called to the group, "if you need to place anything in the wagon there's a little room. We'll give that boy a few more minutes to turn up."
That boy, Peter was still rushing after talking to the merchant. He didn't know the streets too well having lived on the farm his entire life. Perhaps he may have taken a few wrong turns, or had been going east to begin with, but in the end he'd taken a long route. Peter was panting by the time the gate came into view. He scurried over to the cart and staggered about for a moment.
Robin gave him a look then peered at the shoddy axe still at his wait. "Right then." He grunted.
He called Morcal over to stand by his side, and ordered Victoria to set the cart going. Robin gave another look at Peter, who was still panting. "Let's go everyone," he cried out to the warriors.
"Those are the shittiest gloves I've ever seen," he growled at the boy.
~~
There was perhaps a half hour walk to the fringes of the Wasteland from the gate, long ago a path had been made. It was a rough track but it was the best they could take. The land sloped upward gradually - it's peak was the end of the living lands.
The plant life was mostly thick grass, with few trees taking root in the harsh environment. Nothing looked all that healthy but as they rose it steadily grew worse and worse.
Soon they would see the barren lands, and from there it was straight to Swanheart Hill. But nothing was ever that simple.
Enfilon
01-21-2012, 06:40 AM
Neah awoke in his bed next to the woman he woke up too every morning. He quietly got out of his bed and got dressed. He silently stepped outside and met his old friend. "Fedrick, its good to see you, you old bastard." Neah said with a sarcastic tone."Very funny walker, well you want a drink?" "Yes, i would love one." They walked over to Fredrick's house. "So, walker, how have you been?" Fredrick asked as he poured his ale into two mugs. "Its been slow, i'm running low on coin, and can't find any work." He took the ale, smelled it, taking in the aroma, then took a swig. Fredrick jugged about half in one go. "Your going to kill yourself drinking like that." Neah said. He took a seat in fredrick's kitchen.
"It's been slow?, how do you mean?" "I've been helping Ellie a lot with house work, and all the jobs are small but time consuming." Neah said with a sigh. He started to take a drink. "Well too bad, i heard red hood had a job and he was hiring." Neah spit up his drink. "Thee red hood" Neah said a little suprised," your kidding?" "No, I heard they set out just a little while ago." Fredrick said with a little worry. He heard it was a dangerous job, and he saw the look his friend was having. "How long, and are they catchable" Neah said with excitement. "Just a little while, and yeah, if you hurry." Fredrick said with a sigh, knowing he'd have to explain this all to ellie.
"Its settled, im going." He stood up, knocked over the chair and ran for the door. "Tell Ellie for me Fredrick!" He shouted as left. "Bastard." Fredrick said. "Could've at least picked up the chair before leaving.
Neah ran as hard as he could, and reached the gate to the wasteland."Wait for me Ellie, i'll be back." He ran out of the gate. The wind had been blowing, but you could still see slight tracks. He started of at a jog and picked up the pace as he went. So that his body wouldn't tire as fast. "It takes 30 minutes walk, and they left not too long ago."
After 10 minutes of nothing but running, Neah stopped. After the first 5 minutes, he was running on his own will, no matter how bad his legs burned. He looked forward and saw a fairly large group and a carriage. "So close" He said through his thick breathing. His legs were a little shaky, but they would move. He started walking at a fast pace, "OOIIIIII, RED HOOD!!!" Neah yelled
Wattz
01-21-2012, 10:32 AM
Praise the gods, free drink! Craning her neck upwards to look the man Bren in the face, she took the bottle and nodded gratefully. Surely this was a sign from the divine, that she should be drunk for at least half the passage.
“Ah, yes, short jokes, what a laugh,” Ruby said with a chuckle. She was used to the short cracks, and she expected many more from the tall fellow Bren. Quite honestly, they meant little to her. “Well can’t let a fellow journeyman be alone in his stupor, though surely you’d need an entire barrel to feel a dent. A toast, to our triumph! ” Ruby held her arm up high to clank her bottle with Bren’s. Lifting the bottle to her lips, she drank… and drank… and drank….
The red liquid slid easy down her throat, coating her stomach and warming her cheeks. Ruby stopped just below the half-way mark before pulling away.
“Never… underestimimate…. Best to get it over with quick, you know. Drunk, I mean. Being drunk. Yes, yes… much better this way.” Words slurred, cheeks flushed, smile widened, and Ruby had already developed her familiar drunken swagger. Stress swept away with the alcohol, tact be damned.
“But never you mind me!” Ruby patted the side of Bren’s stomach since she couldn’t be bothered to reach his shoulder. “Robin’s an ornerery man, doesn’t like to wait.”
She barely listened as Robin spoke. A nod, a smile, another tip of the hat, and she found herself following along the cart, swaying slightly as if in a casual drunken dance. Ruby hummed lightly as if in an attempt to lighten the mood, though truly she was not within the present moment. She couldn't bring herself to even say farewell to the home at her back. The wasteland's call was too strong, the resolve to preserve identity deep within her chest.
The yell behind them had Ruby spinning twice before finding her target. A man was running to catch up with the group, and the Imp’s eyes grew wide.
“Sssir Robin,” Ruby said as she walked backwards, pointing towards the newcomer, “I belilieve you have a visitator.”
Kiall
01-24-2012, 10:39 PM
Bren chuckled watching the girl Ruby stumble as the moved. Gods but that woman could drink! He had finished his own bottle just before they had left, she was joking about the barrel bit but she wasn’t far off, aside from a nice warmth in his cheeks he was fine.
Look at her go still walking…well that was one way to pass the time, he just hoped she didn’t pass out and make him carry her. As small as she was that was going to be murder on his back! He sighed looking at the grass as it slowly blackened under his feet as they started to head further into the wasteland.
Soon they’ll be entering a place of death, no food beyond what they brought with them, demons prowling the harsh sands feeding off the foolish and unwary. The wasteland was a whole other world compared to the cities and towns, a place one could get lost in easily, whether they wanted to or not…His thoughts were cut short by a yell from behind. Looks like they had straggler! “Damn but I’ve never met a man so eager to go out into the waste before,” he said looking back at Ruby.
She yawned from her seat upon the cart, but kept her back straight; the minute she slumped, her mind would succumb to a trance of boredom. Her days were usually so jammed with chores and errands that even the half-hour ride made her feet itch for movement. Mental stimulation was void from the scene. Although her eyes flickered over the group, none tried to talk to her, not even a hint of conversation. Perhaps it was for the best; most of their words would be well-woven lies anyway. Even Robin, seemingly loyal and brave, did not have her trust in full.
The presence of women was against her personal advice, thought not through idle jealousy. A man might shrug off the death of a male comrade, but their minds turned to slush when a pretty, young girl was in danger. They were weak as well, barely worth the weight of their weapons. Had magic users not been so rare to find, she herself would not have felt comfortable intruding on the expedition.
She shifted awkwardly, but did not make the effort to turn around as a voice called after the group. It was Robin’s place to deal with it; she would not get distracted from the task at hand, no matter how trivial and dull it seemed.
Drawing closer to the crowd of the gathering travelers, Nathaniel proudly raised his head, his golden hair's branches standing atop of his nape and swaying softly by the breeze. His eyes locked on his target, the view which reflected from the hill's top as his hawk like blue eyes narrowed and tried to mesmerize where he was standing and what he saw before him. Soon after a sophisticated yet mischief smile spread across his lips. Scanning his group has showed quite lovely products and food for his mind to ponder at how strong and useful each and every one of them could be. His eyes licked the sight of the women around him, which were a pleasant surprise for this harsh trip, a feast to the eyes, as he would call it.
He rode further for their direction, his black stallion breathing heavily through its nostrils, shaking its head to the commands of the tanned skin tall man, Qadir, which led Nathaniel's horse as if the last was some kind of a royalty.
Last in line was the demoness in human's skin who walked in humble steps. She insisted on keeping her hood and her foul mood. Twisting his lips at the sight of her, he quickly looked away and tried to keep his cool posture. After all, the game have yet to even start, and he didn't wish to let the others know of his cards.
Keeping his poker face he straighten his gaze for Robin's direction, "We are ready", he said in a cocky voice.
When Nathaniel returned on the back of huge black stallion lead by his tanned guard, Morcal gave Robin a long deep look. Robin grinned at his old friend saying it was all good without speaking the words. But his mind wandered, who the fuck was this man, how could he afford that horse. Certainly the other people in their group couldn't buy such an animal. Robin could most most of his coin was .... stolen.
"We are ready", he said in a cocky voice.
Of course. "Right then." Robin grunted.
"OOIIIIII, RED HOOD!!!" Neah yelled.
They were about halfway up to hill when a voice called out behind them. Robin frowned they hadn't left anyone behind, he growled not liking this interruption.
"Victoria keep the cart moving, this shouldn't take too long." He stopped in his tracks and turned about to meet the person. Morcal was about to do likewise but Robin waved him away.
“Sssir Robin,” Ruby said as she walked backwards, pointing towards the newcomer, “I belilieve you have a visitator.”
“Damn but I’ve never met a man so eager to go out into the waste before,” he said looking back at Ruby.
Robins gaze fell on Ruby for several long seconds, her drunken slur irking him. "I heard him Ruby," he said. Before he could make any more comments on her drunken status the huge Bren commented. "Well that's never a good sign, is it Bren..."
With that he stepped down to meet the newcomer.
And Peter stepped up beside the cart. He'd put his new gloves in his pocket, feeling bad about Red Hood's comments. He stretched his arms walking up the hill.
"Wonder who this new guy is," he commented to Victoria suddenly. He looked back over his shoulder but between their supplies and the group behind him - there wasn't a lot to see.
"Have you done this sort of thing before, gone out into the wasteland, and stuff? Known Robin for a long time?" He asked her, he was full of questions for the rest of the group, but he was a little nervous to approach the others. He'd already met Victoria if only briefly so she was alright.
"Wonder who this new guy is."
Victoria glanced to her side to find Peter and smiled pleasantly at his attempt for conversation, but could respond to the comment with nothing more than a shrug of her shoulders. He did not seem off-put by her lack of reply.
"Have you done this sort of thing before, gone out into the wasteland, and stuff? Known Robin for a long time?
She was surprised by his confidence; in a group of strangers, it could be difficult to begin asking questions without the need for caution, especially when said people were so quick to sprout lies and weapons. He seemed earnest enough and his straightforward queries did nothing to steer her from this thought, but she knew how easy it was to put on a kind face.
“I’ve heard many stories of the wasteland but I’ve never been foolish enough to enter it, no.” she said, flaying the donkeys to keep pacing up the hillside despite their lack of enthusiasm. A sensible nature kept her from revealing her true reasons to the boy; her past lovers had kept her confined within the town walls and she had not the heart to disobey their wishes. It had not been malicious of them; they had thought her defenceless.
“Robin is my… friend.” She continued, coughing roughly to find excuse for the stumble of her words, “I was close to his wife; known them both for a good few months now.”
It felt like it had been longer than that; the dullness of her current life had made the last year drag itself past. Glancing back towards Peter, she found herself changing subject, asking a question not in the foreground of her thoughts,
“Are you sure you’re ready for battle?”
Enfilon
01-27-2012, 06:34 AM
"OOIIIIII, RED HOOD!!!" Neah yelled.
~~
He waited for the new man to get only a few meters away before growling, "I'm the Red Hood, what is it you want?" Robin wasn't in the best of moods for his journey to be interrupted so earlier.
"I need to get moving, so be quick about it."
As he closed in in, hood seemed kinda mad, and neah was pretty worn out, he tripped on pretty much nothing and landed face first at his feet. "ow ow ow." as rolled over. He was on his back looking up at hood, his hand outstretched so they could shakr for a formal greeting. "Im walker, Neah walker, but most call the musician."
Robin did not know what to do with this Neah person, laugh or frown. Instead he found himself gripping the man's hand and pulling him from the scrub. Of course this person was taller then him, he frowned at that.
He hadn't heard of this man so he grunted, "what is it you want Neah? Seeking to join us?"
"THAT BE GREAT!" neah said with much enthusiasm. Flashing his big white smile, and kind green eyes. "I know i probably gave a bad first impression , but I will take care of myself..." He smile went to a frantic frown. "Ah no!, I hope its alright!". He opened up his bag which had some water, 4 daggers, and a big black case. He pulled the case and opened it, he opened it so no one could see, and checked it and put back.
Once he packed it up, "Sorry 'bout that, ummm where was I?" he thought. "Oh right!, I heard a nice and dangerous job!." He smiled putting his face close to hood's. "And I really need the money." He said it with a smile, but you could see a frown on his forhead. Backing up a bit, "So would it be alright if I joined you?"
Robin stared at the odd man for a second before realising he should be talking. Neah was acting weird and Robin was definitely not used to someone being so damned happy all the time. "Nice.... and dangerous don't seem to go together. It will likely just be dangerous."
But the man sought money, and greedy folk worked well for Robin's cause. Beside, one more person just increased their survival chance. "I guess it would be okay," Robin agreed, "but we leave right now."
"Thanks for having me!" He walked towards the rest of the group, one was completely plastered, another on top of the cart ignoring everyone, and the rest seemed kind rough and distant. He sighed, he could already tell this was going to be an odd group, but he was already glad he came.
(worked with V)
The Bartender
01-27-2012, 10:40 AM
Freya walked alongside the cart, seeking shadow to cover herself up. The choth she had wrapped around her head was not quiet enough to cover the sunrays.
"OOIIIIII, RED HOOD!!!" could be heard as someone shouted.
Freya turned around, seeing a tall man running in their direction.
"Another grazy person is approaching...." Freay whispered, but looked interested to this newcomer. He was glumsy and a bit of a airhead, but still somewhat enjoyable to watch.
Freya turned around, running back to the cart which had already rolled further away, leaving her unprotected, shining white in the burning sun, like a fata morgana, her clothes waving in the weak wind.
With Robin once more walking in front of the donkeys they reached the crest of the small hill and looked out over the wasteland plains. The barren empty place glared back at them despite the sky being full of white clouds.
And waiting for them was another group, similar in size to their own, with their own cart too. They were about a hundred metres away. Someone from the group shouted, "Hood!"
Robin growled, "what now."
"Robin," cautioned Morcal at his side.
"Yeah, yeah," he turned abruptly and moved to the cart side. From within his pulled out his unstrung bow and his quiver.
"Robin," warned Morcal more forcefully.
Long ago Hometown and the area surrounding it had become a neutral location for all those living in the barbaric western lands. Committing acts of war between two different parties or war lords resulted in the offending party to be banished for Hometown. And then hunted down.
"Keep the fucking cart protected," he snarled glaring down at this unknown force. He was too far away to make out any body he knew but he was certain this was trouble.
"Victoria keep the Donkeys moving while I talked to them but keep your distance." He ordered.
"Bren, Thramor, Peter, stick with Morcal. If something happens to our supplies we aren't going anywhere." He said looking over their group, his eyes settled on the pale bone white woman. He frowned at Freya, she looked un-natural and would most like .... unsettle others. "You as well, and you Selena."
That left the others, the less threatening looking members of the group. And the ones who could speak well, the ones that could think. The ones who could lie with ease.
"Nathaniel, tell your people to stay with the cart, you're coming with me." He said to mounted man.
"Ruby you as well," despite drinking her wine Robin thought he might need her shortly.
"Celeste," he nodded at her, "and Neah you too." Perhaps his odd nature would put these people off guard.
With that Robin and the others slowly diverged from the cart to meet the leader somewhere in the middle. The other man had called forth four of his own people too.
The leader was a huge bulking man, he wore so shirt and he was built similarly to Morcal. His hair was loose and long, as was his beard giving him a shaggy mane. At his waste he wore a saber. He walked with confidence.
The others beside him were no doubt similar to Ruby and Nathaniel. All but the one who walked a step behind the barbarian leader. He was another soldier with a hard glare set on his face as he approached.
"How is your wife Robin?"
"Why do you ask?" Red Hood growled.
"Why? I'm the one who poisoned her."
Enfilon
01-28-2012, 06:14 PM
Hearing what the barbarian said, and looking at robin, neah immediately graved his shoulder with a tight grip, so that robin wouldn't fly off the handle. He thenwhispered in his ear. "He may be lying, or know more, lets talk with him to see if we can get anything froom him." With that he he let go.
Listing him with the merry bunch of people Robin sought to take with him, Nathaniel couldn't help but notice the pattern: Drunken girl, Hyper happy go lucky guy, suspicious woman and... himself...
Interesting. Nathaniel chuckled. I see... this is why.....
It made sense; Robin wanted the sneakiest ones for this negations. Without further convictions Nathaniel descend his horse, handing the reins to Qadir as he did so, while giving a gentle bow with his head to the hooded woman who just sighed and looked away.
Stepping forward, he was already by Robin's side, "Of course".
They followed suit until they reached the tall man and Nathaniel couldn't help but take notice of the resemblance to Morcal.
"A friend of yours?", he chuckled as he looked back at the bulk man by the cart, "Family member, perhaps?".
They talked shortly before the giant of a man uttered something which otherwise would have set Robin's nerves on fire. Nathaniel just narrowed his blue eyes.
"He's lying", he hissed.
Being in charge of large organization that worked from the shadows, Nathaniel was all too familiar about wanting one's identity to be kept hidden from others if he was to be in charge of carrying out plans one should be worried of.
Robin was not a person you might want to mess with directly unless you knew you could take him on.
Neah seemed to agree with him
"Who do you work for... ?", Nathaniel pressed on. He needed motives, he needed reasons and most of all, he needed names.
“I’ve heard many stories of the wasteland but I’ve never been foolish enough to enter it, no.” she said.
Peter nodded at her words, "that's probably the smart way to go about it. I've heard plenty of stories too." He didn't bother to ask why she was coming this time, in fact it was far from his mind. Peter thought of all the famous battles instead, his eyes distant for a moment. With a sudden eagerness he added, "maybe we'll make our own story out here, a nice one of course."
“Robin is my… friend.” She continued, coughing roughly to find excuse for the stumble of her words, “I was close to his wife; known them both for a good few months now.”
"His wife?" Peter was curious, Robin didn't seem like the sort to have a wife. Well at least not from the stories he'd heard anyway. He also seemed pretty grouchy. "Didn't know he was married, but I don't get into town often. You must be pretty close to want to come help him."
Peter also thought that Robin wasn't the sort to have too many friends. Not like Victoria. Maybe a few more like Morcal, perhaps.
“Are you sure you’re ready for battle?”
Peter had to think for a moment the question throwing him a little off guard. "Well, I hope to be. I have all my weapons ready and I've been thinking about it for a long while. So I guess I am."
On the other side of the cart, Robin was arguing something with Morcal. It was at that moment Peter noticed the other travelers on the road too. "Wonder what this is about?"
“I don’t know,” she replied curtly, trying to pay attention the orders their leader was now shouting out. Her own were nothing that she couldn’t already guess; she steadied her grip on the reins and kept the donkeys moving. Her eyes remained watchful, however, in case she should have to intervene magically. The thought was only a last resort, of course, but when it came to strangers, one couldn’t be too sure how far they would need to go to keep themselves alive.
Kiall
01-31-2012, 05:01 AM
Bren nodded at his order. The group didn’t seem actively hostile but he was getting a nasty feeling in his gut, there was a tension in the air. His eyes never wavered from the bigger group as well as the one that peeled off. He couldn’t hear them but their body language spoke plenty, especially the leader of the other group, he was confident arrogant even. Bren thought carefully putting him in his place. If it was him he’d want to single out some of the smarter folks, including the leader. Then get them angry, make them do something stupid, then have his men attack in retaliation, mopping up the rest in the confusion.
No doubt he had given his men orders to be prepared for retaliation, and judging by the way he said his title he was undoubtedly aware of the reputation of the man as a temperamental and fierce man, would be easy to provoke such a man. “I’d suggest you lads and lasses draw your weapons, I doubt this is just a friendly chat,” he said gruffly pulling his axe from his back, the gleaming blade catching the sun’s rays as he gripped it in both hands.
Leaning up to his full height and puffing out his chest he bellowed, “OY! RED HOOD! THEM UGLY FUCKERS GIVING YOU TROUBLE? TELL EM TO SOD OFF! WE GOT PLACES TO BE!” His outburst was intended to do two things. One was to insult the group, get them angry, at the very least just as angry as they would be trying to make theirs, the other was a subtle reminder to Red Hood of their goal hoping that it would allow him to focus and ignore anything else.
Enfilon
01-31-2012, 05:08 AM
As neah listened to his new ally provoke the group, he put his fingers on his nose and sighed, he was hoping to talk and spill some info, well, things dont always work out the way you want them to do they he thought. He opened his coat. And atarted to pull out his sword, looked at hood and changed his mind. He got his bag and pulled out his black case opened it, and pulled it his violin. The thing about this violin was it sung at a frequency that effected humans greatly, whether it was calming, inducing sleep, or destroying their ear drums.
Wattz
01-31-2012, 09:29 AM
“Whuh?” Ruby mumbled stupidly as Robin gave the order. It seemed to take a moment for the words to register before Ruby spun around in an unnecessary circle, giving a hearty salute. “Yessss, brave sir Robin, at your servivice!” She just about lost her enormous hat in the superfluous twirl, but she caught it just in time, and marched on over as straight as she possibly could, somewhere in the back of the lineup.
”Why? I’m the one who poisoned her.”
The air was thick with tension, as if Robin’s rage literally seethed from his pours to taint the air. Ruby’s eyes temporarily furrowed as if in a moment of clarity, but the facial movement was so fast it was hardly noticeable.
Already Robin’s posse was poised, ready to fight at the drop of a hat, though Ruby certainly didn’t seem that way. As Bren bellowed with the strength of an earthquake, Ruby ducked and grabbed the brim of her hat.
“Gods above! I can seee why they call you… Thunnnderclap,” she noted as she straightened again, hand moving to messily draw out her rapier. It wavered dangerously in her drunken grasp, ans it didn’t help that she poked forward as if to lunge at them.
“Ssso back, ye scaliliwags! Sssome ressspect if ye will!”
"He's lying", Nathaniel hissed as a hand gripped Robin's shoulder.
Robins hand's were clenched tight around his bow, itching to draw it. But he listened to the works in his ear, eyes never moving from the other leaders gaze. "He may be lying, or know more, lets talk with him to see if we can get anything from him."
His teeth gritted, he didn't want to talk.
“OY! RED HOOD! THEM UGLY FUCKERS GIVING YOU TROUBLE? TELL EM TO SOD OFF! WE GOT PLACES TO BE!”
Robin allowed himself to smile, fingers twitching. He didn't speak yet, the only words in his mind would provoke them all.
"Who do you work for... ?", Nathaniel pressed on.
The bulky leader laughed in response, " myself of course!"
Robin gave the others a quick look, Nathaniel seemed at ease, Celeste was being quite, Ruby was drunk and prepared to draw her rapier (Robin frowned). And Neah was playing with a violin.
“Ssso back, ye scaliliwags! Sssome ressspect if ye will!”
Robin gave her a sharp look missing the other soldier's (http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3566/3492194661_6464b2ce70.jpg) step forward he said loud enough for all them to hear. "I want the drunk ugly one's hat when we're done."
"Ferrik," growled the leader, "this is supposed to be a nice peaceful meeting."
"What?! No one callssss me drunk and getsss away with it!" Ruby took another few steps forward, though she tottered on the way there, rapier just inches away from Ferrik's prominent features. Oh, what she'd give to lop his nose off with a single swing!
Though perhaps that wouldn't be attainable, since the rapier was such a thin weapon. She'd have to settle for a nasty scar, if she could muster it.
"Off with ye, despicabable fools, lessst ye ssuffer Wobin's Wra-- ssuffer Wrath of Wobi-- oh dash it!"
So she lunged, aiming the end of the sword right for Ferrik's nose.
His fist snagged the back of Ruby's collar angrily dragging her backward from their enemies. The rapiers tip had been inches away from the man's nose, Ferrik stumbled backward. "Fuck!" Snarled Robin, then turned his voice into a harsh whisper for Ruby's ears. "Trying to get us all killed, Imp, it's a damn hat. Are you really drunk?"
Robin tugged her back to his companions.
Over the other side Ferrik was complaining about a scratch on his nose. "I'll give you something to complain about if you don't shut up," growled the leader.
Ruby scowled up at Robin for what he'd whispered to her, though inwardly she was quite pleased with herself. Yes, that little scratch ought to have shown Ferrik, and well, her drunken swagger made her less threatening as well as less liable for her actions.
"Then make a damn decision, Red Hood! Act!" she hissed back, so quiet that only Robin could hear. Ruby wrenched herself from the man's grasp, stumbling slightly while taking extra care to grasp her hat.
Robin growled at her.
He was about to open his mouth but the leader cut him off, "no harm done." Obviously the man didn't want to draw them into conflict either.
"Who are you?"
"Hardwick Stonestriker."
"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"
"Perhaps not, Hardwick Trellin I was born as. Anything now?"
Robin narrowed his eyes, he itched to have an arrow between his fingers but he resisted. He didn't reply.
"Yes, I see. Last of those on your mad spree, killing those for the name you so happily wear Hood."
"Stain Trellin was my father, I've come for vengeance Red Hood."
I'm surrounded by fools and ignorance
Nathaniel eyes narrowed at the despicable image of the drunk short woman, that was so eager to fight. Such behavior was unlikely for a lady... But he bet she was an animal at bed...
He smirked before his attention was brought back to the matter at hand. He wish to take revenge for his father's, so it seems. So there appeared to be a little history and tale between our dashing red hood leader and this man... interesting..., Nathaniel licked his lips, But also, by saying it he just made it clear to me that he is not the brain behind this operation....
"Who is this man... what is he talking about?", asked Nathaniel, looking at ease and peaceful as ever.
"He's no one," Robin said to Nathaniel.
"It's taken you five years to come after me? Why now? And why touch my Wife!" Robin said fiercely, "that's not the way things work here. You know it."
Harwick swore something at Ferrik then called back, "vengeance is just part of it, we knew you'd come out if we threatened your wife."
WE.......
Nathaniel smirked, another hint unfold, "Really now... I can hardly believe that you are behind it, if you waited for so long", he shook his head, "No... No, that's not the case here... You were powerless before, and now you found yourself someone who can save your asses, mind my foul words, from trouble".
Nathaniel's blue eyes glittered and he gave them a deep gaze, "I need a name", he hissed.
"Fuck!" Snarled Harwick, he turned to Ferrik and ordered, "get the warriors moving now." He eyed Nathaniel wondering who this man was, he wasn't like the usual sort found entering the Wastelands.
"You'll learn when we meet out in the Wastelands."
"Oh no you don't!", Nathaniel swayed his fingers allowing the red rings between his fingers to glitter just a bit. The woman near the caravan shivered and started to advance forward.
"I have... connections see... ", he said, his eyes never blinking, "I can be sure to make your life miserable without use of real power... but trust me, should you upset me, I can do even that", he looked around at the advancing woman with the hood and raised his hand in the air for her direction, making her to stop. Once she did, he looked around at the two, "I don't care... But I sure have no time to waste chasing you around like a whore over her night paid money, I need a name... and I need it now! your dalliance is not convenient, mainly to my employer...", He raised his chin and looked down at the men, "You better choose wisely... I really have much better things to do than waste my times on worms like yourselves"
Whether or not Harwick was threatened he replied evenly, "oh you won't be chasing us, we know where you are going. We'll meet you there."
Robin glanced over his shoulder at the hooded woman, Nathaniel hadn't made a command or gesture for her to approach. There was something unnatural about her who ever she was.
"I believe it is time to go." Ferrik said suddenly, almost with a shiver.
As the two Barbarians turned to walk away, a maddening shriek entered the air. Robin clamped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. Insanity was never too far away when a Shriek wailed.
"Fucking bastard."
"Nathaniel, stop whatever you're thinking, now." Robin ordered.
"Tsk!", Nathaniel hissed while covering his ears. Calling for his demoness was requested, but he thought it was just too soon to introduce her... Mainly when he didn't wish for the others to know about her just yet...
He fall back, defeated as he turned to stand closer to Robin, "DAMMIT!", he yelled over the Shriek's terrible cry, "What now!?"
"We go back to our cart and get out of here." Robin replied immediately turning his back on their enemies. His mind raged, we was furious. "He's made a deal with a demon, a fucking demon."
The Shrieks were an enemy to Robin, constantly attacking the town. He hunted them down every chance he could. They were lead by the oldest and most powerful of them, the first child of Banshee and human. The one called the Shriek King.
He is not the only one... Thought Nathaniel and as they drew back he looked around, evil smile forming upon his lips.
They will indeed head for the direction that they were told to go for... but... He shall avenge this disgrace... and it will be...
SO DELICIOUS.
Extraordinaire.
02-03-2012, 03:05 AM
Celeste settled into the trunk of the cart, leaning back on her elbows as she rolled her shoulders. Her eyes moved lazily from face to face, feeling unusually awkward. She was used to be unknown amongst a crowd, but she had never traveled with such a group before, feeling like such an irrelevant stranger. She knew that she offered little contribution to the group, or at least as she was seen now. To them she was just a simple girl looking for an adventure, right?
Her long disheveled hair framed her face with a soft brown, outlining her black, almost devilish eyes. Her nose was pressed, while her mouth seemed to always be tugged into a slight, secretive smile.
She looked like she would be innocent, despite the cloak, if it weren't for her blatant disregard for concealing her emotions. She looked at people with little concern to their interpretation, with an intensity that made them fidget uncomfortably. She looked suspicious most of the time, like she knew something that hadn't been said, or had already chosen how the cards were going to play out. And while it made her an excellent poker player, gaining the acceptance of others was rather lacking, on her part.
She kept to herself most of the time, silent unless spoken to, so maybe it was her falt for being so damned isolated, for anyone to approach her. Not that she was here to make friends, or turn it into a social charade. As she stared at a new man approaching Robin, she felt herself longing for attention. Well, that was until he called her name.
Silently punishing herself for not paying closer attention, she obediently slid off of the cart, her feet light on the ground. The cloak, already unveiled, dropped into a pool of wrinkled behind her, as she headed towards the requestor. Studying the cart, with an almost equal party, she characteristically kept to herself, watching the scene play out before her.
"Why? I'm the one who poisoned her."
Celeste's eyebrows lit up in interest, although her expression remained a dull, emotionless boredom. Tension was added to the air like pulp, thickly weaving different reactions amongst their crew. What a line.
Celeste watched, unaffectionately amused as the first whisper to break the silence, was a crew member suggesting that he, may just be lying.
"Well, what would we do without him? It never would have occurred that this may seem unusual; a culprit approaching a victim, bluntly admitting his crime. I almost believed him for a second there!" Celeste thought half-assed to herself, as a blonde haired man hissed almost the same line as the epiphanic man from before. Bored by the almost cliche reaction, Celeste took a careful step backwards, creating space between her and the scene. She watched as the blonde haired man demanded who the suspect was, genuinely expecting an answer.
The air quieted again for a moment, highly contributed by the unaffected Celeste, who stood politely on the outskirts of the scene, one hand placed promptly over the weapon in her sack. "Might as well be armed, if he decided to drag you into this," she thought lazily, still wondering why Robin had called her as a reinforcement, forgetting that she had let her name slip.
“OY! RED HOOD! THEM UGLY FUCKERS GIVING YOU TROUBLE? TELL EM TO SOD OFF! WE GOT PLACES TO BE!” an obnoxiously loud voice shouted out, as Celeste's head whipped around to the speaker. Her shoulders had tensed at the noise, her back writhing in annoyance, as she clenched her fingers, nearly sending one of her darts into the palm of her hand. How "clever"....
Glancing respectively at a girl keeping her distance, guiding the reins of the mule, with a man at her side. Her progress didn't falter at the scene, but she remained alert, willing to take action at any moment. At least we have one level headed girl around she thought to herself and almost by coincidence, a sloshy crew-mate decided to take a stand.
“Ssso back, ye scaliliwags! Sssome ressspect if ye will!" the girl slurred, swinging around an armed weapon. What a respectful crew we've got here.
"I want the drunk ugly one's hat when we're done," one of the more barbaric members hissed, as a laugh almost as obnoxious as the man who had yelled, broke the silence from the frigid girl. Immediately closing her mouth, she tried to contain her giggles as the intoxicated girl whined about her condition, stuttering nonsense before swinging out at the man who had insulted her. The man grabbed onto Ruby, before the girl was retrieved by Robin, who scolded her carelessness. The man who had been targeted was equally scolded by his leader, although the threat was much harsher.
She watched the dialogue unfold between Robin and the surprisingly docile leader, who curtly introduced himself, issuing out another dramatic line. Celeste, although not a favor of blunt characters, was surprised by the emotion he could contain, through simply introducing himself. Seems like a reasonable man.
"Who is this man... what is he talking about?" a new figure asked, a calm, well-tempered man who Celeste had failed to previously recognize.
"Really now... I can hardly believe that you are behind it, if you waited for so long. No... No, that's not the case here... You were powerless before, and now you found yourself someone who can save your asses, mind my foul words, from trouble," the man boldly said, as Celeste studied him with an almost adoration. Finally...
Celeste, too caught in her own damned mind to pay attention, was brought back into reality as a hooded figure who stood beside a tavern, advanced towards them. She listed to the man feverishly threaten the leader of the hotheads, who in return backed off.
Celeste opened her mouth, finding herself about to actually speak out, but was interrupted by a terrible noise. A splintering cry pierced the air, bring a terrible pain that could only be brought on by a demon. In the seconds it took her to react, to cover her ears and turn to Robin, she felt a tingling pain split down her skull, black spots blurring her vision.
As Robin requested for them to get the hell out of there, she couldn't agree more with the noble gesture. Putting two and two together she realized that the man had called on the demon, had relied on or summoned her in some way, as any traces of respect for the crew were once again, lost. As judgmental as she could be, she wasn't any less of a hypocrite, as she was just the same as the rest of the crew.
"Robin? How exactly do you plan on... Handling that man, granted that he comes back?" she asked, her delicate voice raw from her neglected throat.
“Oh,” Peter sounded disappointed by Victoria's reply. But he pushed onward trying to keep the conversation moving. “Well perhaps it's...”
Something loomed in his vision and Peter turned to see Morcal staring at him, “just shut up and listen!”
“I’d suggest you lads and lasses draw your weapons, I doubt this is just a friendly chat,” Bren said to the group. Peter nodded and bowed his head trying to keep quiet. He grabbed his ax and was ready in case there was a fight. He grinned as the giant man shouted down to their leader.
Peter hoped the meeting was going on alright, it seemed to be dragging on. It looked to be getting tense, in response his hands gripped harder on the ax. The Cart was passing the other one by now and they were beginning to go back down another slope. Strangely the weird woman hidden underneath her hood began walking toward the meeting.
Morcal's growl did nothing to stop her walking. He didn't appear to like that as his eyes became harder.
Moments later the scream filled the air. Peter swore and gritted his teeth at the noise, once it was over he was looking about to try and find the source.
“Get us out of here!” Growled Morcal once they could hear properly.
Indeed Robin and the others were rushing back to meet them. Peter fell in beside the cart watching the other group as they left them behind. Something was certainly going on and he didn't like it whatever it was. Something involving demons was usually bad, but adding a second sort made things a lot worse.
Thankfully Peter had never run across any Shrieks before. Well before this quest.
"Robin? How exactly do you plan on...*Handling*that man, granted that he comes back?"
“I believe a nice arrow through the throat shall do the trick.” He replied quickly walking back across, his voice was cold and on the edge of rage. “Or sword to the stomach. Nathaniel there could talk him to death.
“As long as he ends up dead I don't care.”
It took them some time to catch up but Peter immediately saw something was wrong with Robin. He hoped it wasn't too serious. He decided it would be best to remain silent. Morcal was giving their leader a long look.
“We have half the fucking world against us on this damned quest!” Robin snarled to them, “we can only hope the Shriek King decides to send a few of his demons after us.”
Enfilon
02-06-2012, 11:19 PM
After neah's ears finished ringing, he looked up and realized the whole situation had changed and everyone was moving around leaving poor neah behind. "<Sigh>, could've said something to me..." He muttered sarcasticly. He caught up to red hood, "Hood, would rather me give the team a fighting spirit boost, or just have me fight."
Robin gave him a flat look and threw his hands up, he was no longer in any form of happy mood. The meeting had sapped anything but anger from him - it took everything he had just to keep his voice reasonably, "I don't care, as long as we keep moving."
He stalked ahead of the group and grumbled, "Cheer them up, but walk."
"OK!" he said basically pushing his happiness upon hood, He picked up the string a played a loud screech for 2 seconds that was like a shriek's shriek, got everyones attention and played a beautiful toon, that was happy and calm, "this will bring out happy past memories and sooth the soul," he had to be careful, if he played it too strong even hood would fall asleep by the fact of how calm he would be. He stopped for a second and put in earplugs, so it wouldnt effect him as much, and continued playing.
Robin gritted his teeth a the violin's scream but waved for the happy man to continue. Music might do the others good, until they could shoot or maim something.... but maybe that was just Robin. But slowly his thoughts turned to her smile.
(worked w/ V)
Wattz
02-07-2012, 10:49 AM
Morcal was good at what he did, look and act menacing. But he was also good, if rarely, at doing something subtle. Or do something quietly without being noticed, somehow he'd managed to slip to the back of the group while Robin confronted the other group. He watched with hatred in his eyes inspecting his new enemies determined to find their weaknesses from afar.
But what he saw made him frown. After shouting his command and recovering from the noise, he step aside and let them roll onward. He waited as Robin and the other caught up.
Ruby was walking up with them, and Morcal glared at her. He stepped down toward her, intent on having words.
Ruby was careful to keep her steps skewed and staggered, though she couldn't help but feel apprehension in her chest. The Shriek King's cry had left its mark, and the further into the Wasteland they stepped, the further Ruby sank into herself. She'd been in plenty of tight spots, but none so mysterious as this one. Sometimes she wondered if a name was worth keeping at such a high price.
It wasn't long before she noticed the hulking Morcal matching her own step.
"Issss there a probablem?"
Then again, subtle and Morcal didn't get along.
Morcal turned quick, before Ruby could act and gripped the front of her clothing. With one hand he lifted her up to his eyesight, a couple of feet off the ground. He glared into her eyes.
"Yes, there is a problem," he hissed at her. "You'll kill us all with your reckless actions. You're only alive because he seems to think you may have a use."
Ruby cried out with surprise as she was lifted clean off the ground like a kitten in a mother's jaw. She pouted and crossed her arms in a huff, though it was difficult to put fault on Morcal's concerns. After all, she was trying to make herself less threatening, but she was more aware of her actions than he knew. "And you're only alive 'cause he needss a meat-ssshield for the Ssstone...sskin. Perhapss we all have our uses then, hmmm?"
"I'm alive because I can break people's faces with my fist," Morcal replied. "Remember this, I'll be watching you."
"And if you start threatening his cause again...." He trailed away but the threat was deep in his eyes. Morcal held her there for a moment more before throwing her away into the hard wasteland soil. He stalked off after the group.
"Oof!" Ruby fell to the dirt with a violent thud, face down and covered in dust. Her hat had fallen off, and after she stood herself up, she sighed and brushed herself off. After she'd retrieved her hat and shaken out most of the dirt, she placed it back upon her head.
"Pissing contest indeed," she muttered with a scowl.
Nathaniel looked unpleased, "Talk him to death!?", he chuckled, "It was rather obvious that they knew and hide something, Robin, you don't talk to those type of people.... YOU ACT... The more you delay with them, the better time they have to set out dirty tricks like that yelling barking bitch demon", Nathaniel hated the fact he was letting the anger take out the worst in him. He always tried to keep his manners in check, but being outsmarted like that just made him be so furious.
"Further more I don't like the fact they think they know where we are going. How could they possibly know?!".
He was so angry he was this close to snap at Neah and tell him to stop playing his darn damn music, but he was able to control himself.
"How do we advance from him, Robin?", Nathaniel throw the ball back at him, "Because, frankly, I don't like being played for a fool... And don't worry, next time I won't be so eager to talk as well".
Kiall
02-11-2012, 12:49 AM
Peter had heard a few stories about Thunderclap, so he eagerly matched the larger man's pace. He had his dented old ax in hand ready if it was required but he half hoped he could just see Bren fight.
Grinning he asked, "you've been in a few of these situations before? Sounds like you have from the stories I've heard."
Bren heard the argument between Morcal and Ruby and felt guilty. He was the one who had offered his wine, had egged her on so that her pride demanded she drink too much. He admired courage and she possessed a yard of guts, he figured a drink had been in order, between two companions on a journey never guessing his slight jeering would be taken as a challenge.
His thoughts were interrupted by the young man Peter, “stories? I bet ye have! Bloody bards! They always exaggerate things,” he groused good naturedly. “You have a fight with a man, they have to turn it into a giant! You fight multiple men? They have to be demons in disguise! It’s bloody ridiculous!” Bren laughed still holding up his axe.
“Aaaah but yes, I’ve been in a skirmish or two. Was a soldier and fought in the civil war back east, made a name for myself and eventually went out on my own, mercenary work. Fought battles in east and west, demons and men alike, even went on little quests like these! Never went up against no stoneater though!” He laughed again, finding himself liking the boy. “What about you eh? Why are you out here? Me I’m just an old war dog that don’t know any better. Why aren’t you out learning a trade? Or convincing some young lass to birth you fine sons?"
"Oh I guess they do exaggerate those stories," Peter sounded a little disappointed by that, but grinned at Bren explained his life.
"A trade? I've been a farmer all by life but I've got some brothers and sisters that can do that sort of work." He was kinda sad at leaving them behind to follow this dream of his. "We don't have a lot of money, hopefully I can get something for them out of this."
"Even if the stories are a bit... untrue, I want to be a part of one. I was thinking this would be a big adventure worthy of a song or two."
"Also I don't have none experience with the girls." He laughed and smiled at himself.
Bren laughed with him, clapping his back loudly. “Oh aye? Trust me boy, the lasses love a good hero story.” Inwardly Bren felt sad, another starry eyed youth leaving his family for fame and fortune.
He made a mental note to give his share to the boy’s family if he did not make it, hell he could probably throw in his own, he didn’t need the money. “Well boy, keep your eyes sharp, your axe ready, and stay close to old Bren, you’ll end up a damned hero for sure,” he said with a chuckle clapping his back again.
"Furthermore, I don't like the fact they think they know where we are going. How could they possibly know?!"
Robin thought on it for a moment, letting Nathaniel wait. This man liked to be in control; he needed to have all the information to plot. Robin wasn't going to allow himself to be pulled underneath Nath's will. "Either they figured we would head to the highest point, close to town, or a person under Harwick's or the Shriek's control is amongst us."
"How do we advance from him, Robin?"
Robin grunted, "We get ourselves a demon heart."
"Because, frankly, I don't like being played for a fool... And don't worry, next time I won't be so eager to talk as well".
Robin nodded as they walked and angrily said, "There won't be anymore words."
~~
Somewhere near the back of the cart walked the assassin Salena. She listened to the words around her, especially of those talking to the Red Hood. She didn't smile or frown, just looked about blankly, as if searching for any signs of danger.
But the talk of a traitorous member of the group bothered her.
Chapter 3
Night.
Thramor, Long Shirt, was tired.
His old bones had begun to hurt not long into their march but he'd kept that to himself. Thramor's signature long shirt was feeling heavier as the day wore on. He'd wondered if perhaps this was one adventure too many.
But what else was there for him?
The meeting hadn't been to his particular tastes - honestly, wasn't a quest to kill a Stone-Eater enough? Talk of long awaited revenge, and involving Shrieks, made Thramor think he should run. But Robin didn't seem the sort to allow that. Thramor didn't want an arrow in the back.
Things were too complicated. Why couldn't these adventures be to ale or wine or whatever?
Afterward there had been the usual talk; Robin was annoyed, so was that angry man Morcal, others didn't seem too upset, and there were a few quiet women hanging about the cart. None of which had showed any interest in poor old Thramor. Oh well.
Then they were off on their hastened pace across the wasteland. Like usual, traveling was dull. No demon, no other travelers, no one. But they seemed to make some good progress toward their damn hill. Robin seemed pleased at that. Hell, after half an hour he'd seemed like a completely different man and wasn't ranting or raving about. Could tell he was sort of worried a bit.
Then night fell, nice and quiet like as the group set up for an evening in the middle of nothing. Morcal pulled out a giant bit of canvas for a tarp, some poles. It rained heavy out there. Morcal was quite insistent on not wanting the food to get wet. He enlisted some of the larger people to set up the shelter, poor old Thramor included.
Others had split up into groups, or were eating dinner, or talking. Getting ready for the following day, or whatever they wanted.
~~~
Somehow Peter had managed to get himself out of putting up Morcal's tarp and found himself wandering their... camp grounds. Didn't look much different to the rest of the place. Robin must have liked something about it though.
Not wanting it to seem like he was doing nothing, he approached Victoria to see if she needed any help. He also wanted to talk to someone, "Need any help with the donkeys? Or anything else that needs to happen?"
The woman seemed to ignore him for a few seconds before slowing turning, "What?" She held onto her head with a strangely pained expression, "Help would be lovely, Peter. I know Robin said he wanted the donkeys unharnessed... I struggle to do it by myself."
Peter was about to shrug, she seemed busy or elsewhere, but she replied and he smiled back. "Oh okay, we should be able to do that in no time together." He hurried over to help her out. "Often back home I worked with the animals too, not so much donkeys though."
She nodded absently to his attempts at conversation, "The only animals I've worked with are donkeys, although not as much as I'd have liked." The boy was a strange one - Did the other men intimidate him? Whilst he seemed so eager to interact with her, she had not seen him extend such courtesy to the others. "My skills at cooking are far more."
"You like donkeys?" He asked stupidly before saying, "Oh, you mean because of this job. Right." He mumbled to himself as his fingers attempted to work.
Cheerfully he interrupted his own self to say, "I burn all that I cook." Which was sadly true, even the simplest meal ended up a crispy black mess.
Victoria made a noise to feign interest at his replies. There was so much left to do, she soon realised, even after they'd unhitched the donkeys. She rubbed her head again and sighed, trying to take it one step at a time. "Y'know, all the young boys I saw around town were too busy chasing girls to think of adventures," she said nonchalantly, "Perhaps they chose the less foolish option."
"Probably they did, but, how could I resist such an adventure? I've been hearing stories about some of these folks for half my life," Peter said eagerly. "The chance to be amongst them, be a part of a story myself? I couldn't stay at home for this."
He didn't know whether to be concerned or not, so he pointed out, "You keep rubbing your head, you haven't been hurt? Or are you tired?"
She shifted her hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear with clumsy hands. "Adventures are for... Huh? What?" She blinked in surprise and actually focused on the boy for the first time, "My head?"
It would have been easier to deny his concerns if her fingers hadn't been massaging her temples at that very moment.
"I-... I guess I'm just not used to riding on a cart all day..."
She tried to smile but winced as a sharp pain struck behind her eyes. It would have been manageable if nausea wasn't flooding her mind as well.
Peter looked around for something else that needed to be done before they slept. He nodded along at her words, "Well that makes sense, not too fond of that constant movement myself. Doesn't look like there is anything left to do. Maybe you should get some food or sleep?"
That's what usually helped him if something was aching, didn't really sound like anything else to him. Also the thoughts of food and sleep were already on his mind.
Completing her check on the donkeys health, she stood and shot a blank look at Peter. "You're right," she muttered drily, "It never occurred to me that I might need to eat or sleep." In all honesty, Victoria had expected some deal of concern. She was not a dependant woman, able to look after herself without complain, but it would nice if he could pretend to care.
One moment, he was following her like a pup. The next, his eyes were darting around the camp as though he wished to be anywhere else but next to her.
"Thank you for your help, Peter," she said in a voice that displayed no gratitude, "I'll finish the job myself."
Extraordinaire.
02-11-2012, 06:14 PM
“I believe a nice arrow through the throat shall do the trick," Robin said to her, taking a moment to consider his options, “or sword to the stomach. Nathaniel there could talk him to death."
Celeste snickered at the comment, amused by the leader's light-hearted teasing, although the victim seemed to take more offense.
"It was rather obvious that they knew and hide something, Robin, you don't talk to those type of people.... YOU ACT... The more you delay with them, the better time they have to set out dirty tricks like that yelling barking bitch demon," he scowled, his ego probably tested by the leader's snarky remark.
“As long as he ends up dead I don't care," Robin declared, a new edge of anger to his tone. Robin dished out a few more lines, which seemed like satisfying enough solutions to Nathaniel's concerns, but Celeste's focus was no longer on the leader.
"Oh, so you're the kind of man who reacts with violence. Although the other leader restrained his men from attacking, you seem to think that being brutal and masculine would solve all of our problems. Act not think, correct? Which in return, would probably have gotten us, the crew that Robin so meticulously plucked, killed and ended any hopes of him killing the stone eater. Which is our real purpose for being here. So while Robin, who can singly proven to hold his temper, decides to be level-headed instead of making rash decisions, you have to jut in and questions his authority. But then again, I suppose that that's is the reason why he is the leader and not you, my dear," she smiled curtly at Nathaniel, brushing against the man as she passed.
It was an amusing sight to see the hulk-of-a-man pick up the tiny drunk, who was effortlessly lifted into the air.
"And you're only alive 'cause he needss a meat-ssshield for the Ssstone...sskin. Perhapss we all have our uses then, hmmm?" was the first part of the conversation that Celeste actually picked up and stared at the bull-headed girl, with some sort of impressment. Although she may have been careless and testy, she was agressive and fearless as hell. And as if Celeste had any say or matter in the group, she deemed the girl worthy. She thought it strange that she was siding with the feminine perspective, which she almost always disagreed with. The towering man threatened her with some menacing line, once again using his strength to eliminate his problems(although in his case, he might actually have the right to). As Ruby was dropped down onto the dirt floor, she slunk away, muttering something beneath her breath.
She watched as a man consulted Robin before playing a sharp melody, in hopes to level everyone's heads. And although her bitchy attitude clashed with the attempt at first, the song gradually soothed her, temporarily muzzling her sharp mouth.
As night approached, Celeste once again found herself isolated. Feeling guilty for not making any contributions to their food supply, she decided to pass on dinner. Feeling unprepared to the point of embarrassment for the trip, she realized she hadn't made any sleeping arrangements. Had she been expected to set out her own camp, or bring her own tent? Preferring to keep her pride than mooch off of someone else, or even ask a favor of the leader, she found herself wandering further and further away from the group.
Some nights you end up unable to sleep and just ponder between yourself rather or not you accomplished all that you could for the day.
Nathaniel felt that this night was just that type of night. He lurked around near the caravan, bored and not very happy as he considered his next moves. The recent events of the day still burnt fresh in his mind and he kept recalling of the humiliation.
Watching his two henchmen beside his horse, he decided to leave them be as he started to stroll around, looking for something useful to do to keep his mind from thinking much into it.
The smell of woman's perfume reached his nostrils and he sniffed and inhaled the lovely scent like the animal that he was. Nothing better to heal a man's pride than a night in the company of a woman.
Tracking the aroma he followed until he reached for the woman he recognized as the attendant of the caravan, the one who stood behind, taking care of their beasts of burden. Truth be told, as much as she seemed frail and weak he knew deep inside that she harbored power others might not easily find about her at first glance.
But not himself...
He reached his fingers over his red ring that rested in his index finger of his other hand, feeling the aura of magic in the air. It was sleeping, but it was there for sure and he could almost feel it despite the fact he could have never used magic himself directly.
"Good day, my dear", he said as he uncovered his location and approached her, "Shouldn't you be resting? You had a long day and you look tired", he smiled gently, his face calm and handsome.
Victoria flinched in shock, almost frightening the animals, as Nathaniel revealed his nearby presence. Regaining composure was not difficult, but the startle did nothing to soothe her tortured mind. Her hand reached up, stroking in circles just below the hairline, attempting to caress the growing ache that became more persistent as the sun was lowered. She had half a mind to snap at the man for his insensitive approach but… well, it would only be her annoyance at Peter that would cause her to act in such a way.
“I-…I look tired?” She murmured, wishing that there were a reflective surface nearby she could study herself in. His words seemed kind but, inside, she could only worry over her appearance. Exhaustion was not a flattering term that women yearned for. She tried to subtly brush her hair into something more appealing, but it was little use.
“It would be nice to rest.” She couldn’t take her irritation out on this man; after all, at least he was listening to her words unlike some men. “Someone had to tend to these animals though, else this journey would end up for nought."
"True", he said, trying his best to hide the smile that wished to spread over his lips at the sight of her short recoiling, which he considered cute, "Alas, you have companions here that will be more than happy to help such a lovely lady as you".
This time, he smiled brightly, "Forgive me, I should probably introduce myself formally; The name is Nathaniel Welsh", he bowed like a proper gentlemen.
“Victoria Rolfe,” she returned the favour of title out of instinct, curtseying before she had the sense to stop herself. It was impossible to pass off the movement as any less than what they were but that did not stop her from trying, smoothing down her dress as though it had been her intention all along. “Apologies aren’t necessary; you’ve been more civil than most the people here.” Her eyes ran along to watch Peter, and then Robin, before they latched back onto the man before her. Her smile showed off dimples that had not diminished in adulthood.
Ah yes! Nathaniel thought, It's like she's freely giving me the cards... Better play along with that...
He shook his head, "Dreadful as some may be, think little of their behaviour. They are tense and dare I say even not sure of themselves as they were when they first set out. I may even suggest that some regret their decision to come here for the sake of gold. Myself? I rather not let my emotions blind me. But truth be told, it will be hard not to catch a glimpse of someone as lovely as you".
He knew he may gone too far but he decided to push further.
"The reason I'm asking for your welfare is because you seemed to change since morning. Is something on your mind?"
She shifted awkwardly at a few of his comments, unsure whether to accept them or to brush them off as the products of a polite tongue. The man reminded her of her first lover – someone she would rather she could forget – but the attention was what she needed right then.
She sighed, “Have you ever been in love, Nathaniel, even when you know it’s wrong?”
Nathaniel was taken aback, both because of her reaction and her question, but he recovered immediately and said in unchanged voice: "As a matter of a fact, I have". His eyes didn't remove himself from hers, even when he answered something that should have caused someone to ponder and think over what left his lips.
His gaze remained fixed at her face a while longer before he smirked, "Why would you ask that?" He chuckled as if to impale the tension.
“Misery loves to find company,” she muttered. Realising what she had said, she blushed, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bring up such a dark topic.” The way he met her eyes was both sultry and intimidating; she felt under a spotlight, unsure whether she liked it. She held a hand to her face to hide her warming cheeks, forgetting her pounding head for a moment.
“We should be enjoying this night as though it’s our last, right?”
He smiled, "Perhaps. It will be wise to think ahead and be ready for the worst, but I am not planning to give up anytime soon. However, I'll be foolish to think that this may not indeed be our last night...", he licked his lips before he took a deep breath and moved closer to her, "Also... don't apologize... There's no need to hide the truth, I rather you tell me what's on your mind... All that you think... All that you... Wish to say to me..."
She shied away from his advances at first but, after thinking, moved back to her original position. It was selfish perhaps that she only did it for the attention of a past lover, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that if the man before her knew, it wouldn’t bother him. It was a suspicion she had of all men nowadays; even when they tried to be sweet and caring like Nathaniel, she saw it all as a façade.
“I…” she started, but hesitated, lightly kicking at the dirt beneath her feet, “I guess I’m growing tired of men making promises that only last until the next morning.” She kept her eyes focused on him as though willing him to be honest just this once. His words could be the truth or they could be deceit; how direly she wished there was a way to know.
"In that case, I promise to never speak or utter a promise to you that I cannot fulfil", he said without swaying his stance even once, "See? Don't you feel much better after saying that? And here I am still standing before you."
In truth, she hadn’t contemplated the fact that her honesty might scare him off – Most honest men would not consider her words to hold negative value. Her heart felt glad, comforted, that he had remained though. It was something compared to the isolation she received from the other men.
“It’s rare that any person can keep with such an oath, let alone a man trying to,” she replied quietly, suddenly unsure where he was expecting such a conversation to lead. It was their first time speaking and they had been drawn to such serious topics; either there was something different between them or he was a master of vocal persuasion. Instinct led towards the latter but a lonely heart clouded her judgement. Unsure, she kept her mouth shut and her eyes down, trying to take a second to gain distance from the situation and find some clarity over the man’s intentions.
"Indeed, rare they are, but I know what I stand on. Alas, I can feel that you are rather uncomfortable, be it because of my presence or not, the last thing I want to do is make you feel worried or unsure," he smiled softly. "Don't worry, I won't think little of you, you should do what you feel like doing and not what others expect you to do", his smile grew bigger, "And as much as it is saddening me to end our small charming talk, I believe you should rest, my dear." He tilted his head, "Victoria. Like the goddess... A fine name for a fine woman. I shall remember it", he bowed slowly, "It was nice meeting you, my dear goddess".
Kiall
02-12-2012, 11:58 AM
Bren grunted groaning at the feeling of his knees and back popping and snapping as he sat down. He sighed finally plopping himself onto the ground, he stifled a shiver as a slight wind blew past the cold cutting past his skin and seeping into his bones. Ugh he hated being old. There was a time when he could have walked the length and breadth of the waste and still have enough energy heave a wine barrel over his head.
Now though…now, his joints and muscles ached from the long hours of walking, it had been a struggle at times to keep his breath even and not short and raggedy, he was not looking forward to sleeping on the cold hard ground. Here he was though, spending his twilight years in the middle of this hell plain instead of a nice warm bed. Another cold wind blew and again Bren made no sign of shivering or otherwise affected by the cold, though afterwards he slowly crossed his arms rubbing his biceps hoping to warm them with his hands.
All his life he had fought, as a boy he had sought to escape his life of poverty and loneliness by taking to the air…When that failed he had taken to being a soldier fighting to make a name for himself. Then he was just fighting, every army wanted to have a person like Thunderclap with them, morale boost they said, though somehow he had always found himself in the thick of it. Impossible battle after impossible battle he had fought, and what did he have to show for it? Nothing.
The only home he had bothered to own long abandoned, scarcely a coin in his name. His wife, the only woman he had ever loved dead, a death he had not witnessed having been fighting in skirmishes out west. He had no children to carry on his name, he had been born with nothing, and would die with nothing and that was how it was. Sure a few songs of Thunderclap may survive, perhaps for years, but none would miss Bren, anyone one who had truly known him were dead, either taken by disease, old age, or another bloody war.
He scooted his feet up wrapping his arms around his knees no longer bothering to hid the affect of the night air was having on him as he closed his eyes and whispered “And so Bren, the man who doth made the earth shake with the thunder of his fall…his last act, will be one of cowardice.” Oh yes and there was the true of it, he could not accept his fate. How could he? The mighty Thunderclap, who had felled armies with his axe die…not on the battlefield as a true warrior, but as an old man?
Sick in his bed, his sheets stained with his own shit, his skin withered and shrunken, his hair white as snow, unable to speak in anything more than feverish mutterings, a burden on all. No that would not be his fate! So he had come here, to journey on some impossible quest expecting and wanting to die out here. So die he would, the last song of Bren ‘Thunderclap’, out here in the waste, on a quest he did not care about, surrounded by people he did not know. He shivered, though it was not the wind he shivered from, it was from an icy hand…its bony fingers brushing against his shoulder.
“Thank you for your help, Peter," she said in a voice that displayed no gratitude, "I'll finish the job myself."
The words echoed through his mind, repeating over and over until he could remember nothing else from their conversation. Deeply confused he walked away from Victoria. He was trying to think of what he'd done, or said, or hadn't said, or hadn't done, what he should have done.... but he was lost.
He found himself with his back against the large cart wheel some time later. All thoughts of food and sleep had left him. Peter just sat there for some time.
“I said, ye look down,” a croaky old voice whispered at him. And then shook his shoulder. Peter was quite surprised and yelped. He shrugged out of the strong hands and shuffled away. The older warrior sighed, “no one wishes to be near old Thramor, if such is the way...”
“Oh, I, you.... just was thinking.” Mumbled Peter.
“Youth has a lot to be a thinking,” agreed Thramor, he also was sitting with his back to the cart wheel.
Normally Peter would be intimidated by such a famous warrior, bard songs told long tales about the man with a long shirt. But not a single deed of the man came to mind, which startled Peter a bit. “Yeah I guess you can say that I'm down.”
Thramor nodded and Peter settled back into his previous spot. “Ye wanna talk...”
Peter took some time in replying as he thought the evening over. He didn't know what he wanted to say, if anything at all. He was just confused by her words. Eventually he replied, “I just....”
He broke off and looked over to Thramor. Who was now asleep.
Wattz
02-19-2012, 11:30 AM
Ruby couldn’t sleep. She had to admit, she was rather disappointed that she had no more alcohol to continue on with her drunken charade, at least for now. It had been fun while it lasted, and vaguely meaningless, but at the least she enjoyed being seen as one of the lesser members. She hoped for less expectation, more gaining glory at the end despite not lifting much of a hand.
Perhaps, however, this was a lie. For once, Ruby did not wish for glory, since the only thing keeping her there was the name she’d lost to Robin. The woman sighed, propping her head up on her hand, hat tucked away tightly in her bedroll. She let her eyes move over the silhouettes of those who’d yet to sleep, absorbing their whispers on a shallow level. For now, she would let them all keep their secrets and let their words pass over unnoticed.
From time to time, someone would stir, another would sit up (this one she presumed to be the large man, Thunderclap), but she had no reason to speak to any of them.
Ruby never did get any sleep that night.
Extraordinaire.
02-19-2012, 04:53 PM
Robin wasn't a particularly religious man.
But he found himself alone in the dark praying to one of the Seven Angels, or perhaps all of them? He didn't know. Their names had been lost long ago; the few who knew them held them close to their chests. They were an ancient power.
The Angels gave judgement to the dead, banishing sinners into nothingness. Or sending them along to Salvation, where they lived once more in comfort. The world was hard, people had tough choices.
Robin supposed he'd never see Salvation. Such was his past. But he hoped his wife would one day, if anyone she deserved it.
He didn't pray for that. Robin wished for her to live, for them to return and heal her before she died of her stone sickness. For her to have a better time.
But, not that any of it mattered.
All knew the Angels were corrupt.
Robin sighed as he knelt in the dark. Suddenly he was aware of movement behind him somewhere. He sprung up despite aches from his legs. There was a knife in his hand as he watched the figure coming toward him. Behind them he could see the camp and movement of others.
Robin relaxed and asked to them, "why are you leaving the group?"
"'Ta Hell with it," the brunette muttered, breaking away from her eccentric pace, drifting farther and farther from the camp. Walking east to where they had come, she headed for a more woodsy swamp, that would free her of the humid air.
A minute later she reminded herself to stay alert, but no quicker than she looked up, did her gaze meet a kneeling figure. Although the thought of a person alone, crouching over near the marsh lands was enough to fuel her imagination, it didn't falter her pace.
"Admirable work, you've done today," she thought bitterly to herself, as she recognized the dark outline of the figure to not only be a member of the crew, but the man who lead it. She'd made a far too risky number of mistakes in just a day's span and in any other case, she would have been four feet under, or at least had her death plotted out. Already too close to Robin to change directions, she tried to blow it off and nonchalantly pass, but to no surprise, he questioned her motives.
"Sorry, I didn't know I was obliged to stay around at night," she said defensively, although the truth was rather pathetic.
"A bit away from your tent, aren't you?" she altered the question, hoping his explanation would give her a few seconds to craft her own.
Robin decided to put away his knife, probably for the best. Right?
"Yeah, I haven't slept right in a week. With the darkness around..." He trailed away not wishing to say the rest of his thoughts. Robin continued with a grumble, "so I came out here to think."
Celeste nodded her head thoughtfully when he cut his sentence short, although she had no clue what he meant. Torn between whether he was worried about his wife's condition, their nearing attack, or his own life and decided it was a bit of all three. The man was under a great deal of stress and did a damned good job at hiding it, most of the time.
"Sit with me a while," Robin offered suddenly, "if you're as restless as me to get away from everyone then there must be a great deal on your mind." He returned to his place on the dirt and waved her over in the low light.
"Two cynical people keeping each other company?" she asked humorously, but nonetheless settled down a few feet away from him, her knees bent infront of her as she leaned back on her elbows.
Thankful for the night's disguise, she glanced over at the man without tilting her head. She thought of her request, her real intention to ever have to sit so close to the stranger. Although there was a great chance that he could die in battle, it came with the risk of her prey getting away. She probably wouldn't have another opportunity life this; isolated from the pack, concealed by darkness, and armed with one of the most lethal injections yet to be discovered. She fumbled with the tube of the needle, on the hip farthest from the man, contributing to the awkward silence.
"Good words to Nathaniel early." He commented with a smile.
Her head finally cleared when he spoke again, mentioning her snap at Nathaniel. She smoothly released the hidden weapon, as she repositioned herself, focusing once again on the man.
"I don't know," she hummed to herself, shaking her head.
"I mean, it's great fun, calling people out like that..." her voice broke off, with an almost pride to her cleverly-though bitchy comments.
"But, mind you, look where it's led me now," laughed, staring back at the camp. She had no desire to go back, nor did she to leave the stranger's side.
The silence was comfortable for Robin, if in an awkward way. Waiting wasn't something he was good at but he hadn't come out here for company or talk in the first place. Just to be alone, he thought maybe she was in a similar place.
Robin smiled weakly. It didn't feel right to have his newly formed team already starting to fall apart. Not even the first night had passed! Morcal probably didn't help, but the man had an obsession with Ruby.... or something like that.
"Nathaniel doesn't command this group, and I don't intend to ever allow him anything close to that." Robin replied to her, "there are more members in this quest then just him."
"The others probably don't mind," he added.
"It depends how you look at it, I guess," she said vaguely, growing bored of talking to herself. Of course the others didn't mind, which may as well have been worse than them loathing her; the others didn't even acknowledge her and were far from giving her a reaction, to whatever it was her sly lips could muster. And although she took great pride into blending into the scenery, this wasn't the case. So if it took her rethinking her words and fishing out a few compliments to pull this off, then that's exactly what she would do.
"What was she like, your wife?" she asked, hoping he had a lot to say.
"She's.... peaceful," Robin whispered, "she is calm, I don't think I've ever seen her angry. Most of the time her words can keep me from loosing control of my anger."
"She helps the people around town most days, always smiling and laughing with them." Robin looked away into the darkness not wishing to speak of her any more.
How he wished to be beside Marian.
"I'm going to go try pretend sleeping now." Robin said sadly rising to his feet.
"As you wish," she said light heartedly, rooted to the ground. She watched him go without selfishness, content by the reaction she had provoked. Once he had disappeared from view, she stared curiously at the camp sight, which had finally stilled from the previous day's excitement. Leaning over to lay down on her side, she felt a pinch in her gut, followed by a rush of swelling.
She didn't curse her carelessness or start to panic, but doubt seemed a common appearance to her, as she quickly withdrew the dart from her side, purple liquid spilling over to the ground. She had only pricked herself once and it was by her master's request, to see how she would react to it. Laying down once again, she tried to position herself comfortably before she turned into a statue. Fidgeting, her hip had already stiffened and she could feel the rush shoot through her legs. In minutes she would only be able to blink and even that was trouble. Staring back at the camp, which had begun to hush as the night grew on, she hoped to pass these next few hours in solitude.
Chapter 4
The Storm.
Dawn came.
The skies above were full of clouds painted orange as the sun rose. To the east these clouds were sparse; they were grey and plentiful directly above the group.
And to the West. Darkness overhead.
~~~~~~
Thramor woke in pain. His back ached from sitting against the wheel all night, he groaned and stretched. The morning felt cold to his body, and there seemed to be some growing wind about.
At least he wasn't too tired.
Sadly he stared down at the boy who had accompanied them, before shaking Peter awake. For a few moment the young guy had blurry half awake eyes then he yawned.
"Time to get up," Thramor said, "hope you have something warm to wear for a storm is coming."
"Oh." Peter grumbled. The old warrior pulled him to his feat and they began to help others get ready for the day's march.
However long that would be.
~~~~~~
Morcal had perhaps awoken happily once upon a time. But that was long ago, this morning he was agitated more then normal. His surly attitude infected his workload as he growled at those that neared him.
Dreams of another day had plagued his sleep, unwanted memories filled his mind.
A future storm didn't help his mood.
~~~~~~
Robin never slept.
When dawn came he was standing nearby with his hood pulled over his head with his eyes closed. After eating and packing away their camp he spoke to the group.
"Looks like we won't make too much ground today, but if we hurry across these plains we may be able to reach our target tomorrow."
"We'll probably be cold and wet tonight."
Enfilon
02-23-2012, 11:48 PM
Neah seperated himself quietly from the group and went a ways away but still within earshot. He stared up at the sky and smiled. He rolled over, wishing that the woman who used to be there was here. "I wonder how pissed she'll be?" he said quietly to himself. He dozed off without a care in the world.
-----------------------------------------
Dawn came, and Neah heard robin talking to the group. He yawned and stood up and strechted. He popped his neck and rubbed it in pain. "Wasn't supposed to make that noise..." he said to himself. He picked up his bag an through it over his back. He walked up behind hood, trying to not make even the slightest noise. So far, he saw no reaction, so he decided for a little amusement this morning and put his hand on Hood's shoulder. "Yo!" he said with a smile.
Yesterday’s dinner, so hastily shoved down her throat, was now returning to the floor in the same manner. The tent that cocooned her also entrapped the scent, the previous contents of her stomach filling the air with an unbearable stench. It was not ideal, but it was private. If only the damn wastelands had some cover, she might have been able to distance herself from the group in time to find sheltered solitude. The nausea had only got worse through the night; her headache had thankfully reduced. Her clear thoughts were little comfort in her current situation.
She shuddered; her entire body was clammy with ill-wrought exertion. Eyes watered, but she was not the kind of woman to cry over an upset stomach.
Escaping her ruined tent, she managed to sneak to the cart whilst the morning was still young and the group still – presumably – slept. Water washed the sweat from her face and the bile from her throat, but she couldn’t abuse the store they had. In comparison to the size of the party, the cart carried a small load – Resources would be non-existent the way they were travelling.
When the dawn finally broke and people rose from their slumber, she tried to look busy in harnessing the donkeys and preparing them for the day’s journey – Her anxious mind dismissed the men that slept against the cart, not bothering to wake them before she began her work. Only half an ear was kept listening to Robin talk.
"Looks like we won't make too much ground today, but if we hurry across these plains we may be able to reach our target tomorrow."
"We'll probably be cold and wet tonight."
Victoria had nothing warmer than the clothes she wore upon her then.
Cursed be the day; they had better get back to Marian in time after the hell they would go through to save her.
"Damned is the dawn of a new day
Revelations of death and despair
Frost misty waters around me
Frantic and naked the fear", "Blücher" by Kamelot
***
By the time everyone where on their feet, Nathaniel was already dressed and packed. He could hardly sleep that night, and his brain was busy with thoughts and worries, however, to anyone looking from the side, one could think that the young man was in a pretty good mood, for he seemed rather relaxed and calmed.
But under his skin his nerves were slowly beating, he knew he was close to reach the limit and explode. He couldn't have bear the thought that he was not where he wished to be nor in the position he wished to be.
As far as he concerned Robin was not a fitting leader and the rest of the merry happy go lucky bunch were simply fools gathered by one undeserving man.
Unsure, unsteady, hungry and terribly tired, all of this was taking a tool at him, but so far he was rather capable of holding himself, and of course, like always, his own thought he saved for himself alone.
"You are not yourself today".
Looking around he noticed the demoness in the human skin. He chuckled, "Decided to take pity of me, haven't you?".
She twisted her lips as she raised her chin in disgust and walked away from him.
He decided not to call her back, it was better this way; he was not in any mood for talking, much less for this silly "lovers' quarrel" he knew he would draw himself into once the two shared more moments in conversation.
He snapped his fingers and Qadir, the oh so loyal dog, was already beside him with the reins of his black stallion. Without much effort Nathaniel was already on the back of the fabulous beast.
Extraordinaire.
02-26-2012, 11:37 PM
Being paralyzed was nothing more than sleeping, although her mind seemed to be anything but numb. The strain that the day had put on her body seemed to have stiffened with her bones and without feeling physically exhausted, she found herself staring at the settled camp, from a distance. Her ears and eyes were alert, although a feral dog could have been gnawing on her leg and she wouldn't have known. But this, sitting here for an average six hours, was the easy bit of the drug. It wasn't until the break of dawn until she felt her spine wiggle, her back twitching in spasms as it tried to refurbish itself.
She watched as the first signs of movement buzzed around the far-off camp, everyone waking hazily. Rocking her hip, she felt a stiffness equal to trauma, had the area swelled up. It was many hours later until her joints began to thaw out and even then, they were as useful as stretched rubber bands. Her ankles felt as if she had been standing all night, carrying double her weight and her knees popped in unison at every movement. Her collarbone seized in pain, as she had been balancing awkwardly on her shoulders all night, which in return, had knots in them. Darts of pain were thrown up her spine as she unraveled her body, as if she were wrinkling out of her old skin, having out-grown her shell. Her stomach was still unconscious as she pulled herself to her knees, which refused to bend or buckle. Her ribs pulled with her skin, her neck crooked with every direction she looked and her eyes were dried to the brink of rawness, having been refreshed very few times during the night. She had an increasing headache and as she sat there, pathetic and worn, she considered stabbing herself again with a dart, if just to temporarily ease the pain. But, owning up to her responsibility, she hobbled towards the camp, rubbing the side of her neck. Slowly fishing out a brown liquid, with a gritty texture inside, she downed the pain reliever, hoping that her body would savor the entire potion, rather than burning it off faster.
When she reached the camp, she was greeted mutually to how she felt. Everyone seemed to be in the lowest of spirits and trudged around groggily, as if they hadn't gotten a moment of sleep.
"What great condition we're in for a hunt," she thought to herself, stretching her shoulder behind her head, her collarbone twisting with pain. She watched as a dog retrieved Nathaniel's horse to him and glanced longingly at his scruffy coat. Although she may seem like the last person to, she adored dogs, but doubted that she would ever own one herself. She wasn't in the position to be responsible for anything, or anyone, but herself. And even then, she did a half-assed job.
"Looks like we won't make too much ground today, but if we hurry across these plains we may be able to reach our target tomorrow," the leader announced, informing them of their progress and what was expected of the day. But, just to spite Celeste and to match the aura of the group, it was followed with a dreary promise. "We'll probably be cold and wet tonight," he finished, surely motivating the team to make it through the day. Fulfilling her doubt for the pessimistic crowd, she returned to the cart and pulled out the sheer cloak that she had stored earlier. She still hadn't collected any food and was sure to go just as hungry as the night before, although the worsening conditions of the night to come would put more of a toll on her. Feeling as if the day had already gone to waste, she prepared herself to follow Robin as unenthusiastically as the next guy.
When you say it's all divine and meant to be
What about your flesh and blood and defires like me?
The Scarecrow - Avantasia
White and grey feathers floated from above, twirling in light circles as they fell toward wasted earth. Dust met them in flight pushing them high once more. Away from the crater towards the clouds where they caught the morning sun rays. Dust began to settle, the feathers fell in a circle. Within the hole was a mound covered in dirt. Minutes passed until all was settled and nothing moved.
Dark clouds rolled in over head and drops of water began to spit the earth.
Then the woman (http://www.cosplayisland.co.uk/files/costumes/2500/21690/rinoa_2.jpg) rose from within the small crater. Dust fell from her as she walked away unharmed. When she could see over the land her skin was clean.
A short walk brought her to a camp, tents lined neatly with an enclosed cart beside. She kept herself the tents between herself, and the demons hidden away from sight. Her target was within one of the middle tents, she entered without hesitation.
Ferrik (http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3566/3492194661_6464b2ce70.jpg) had his sword at her throat before her feat could teach earth once more. The woman closed the tent without pause or a hint of worry.
"Would you normally act this way to a woman in your tent?" She asked.
"Normally they don't enter," He growled, "who are you?!"
"You've got yourself into a tight spot, Ferrik," she smiled, "can you stop a mad man, one who you've fought beside for several years, that you thought could almost be a brother?"
"Where did you hide the Wine Seller's Wife?"
"Why could you not provoke Robin's crew just a tiny amount more?" Somehow she was beside him now, and she stroked his cheek before rubbing his bandaged nose. The wound the drunken woman made Ferrik's face crinkle at her touch. He shied away from her and found his sword once more inside its sheath.
"You're scared of ending up alone Ferrik, once this is all done. Your old friend will be the ruler of this land, a Warlord at the command of demons. The others you love will be either dead.... not wanting to follow this madness. Or drawn in because they fear death."
"But you hesitate."
Furiously, Ferrik found his hands wrapped around her neck, trying to crush her throat. "Who the fuck are you."
One of the woman's hands smashed into Ferrik's face, the force strong enough to knock him off his feet and back down into his blankets. She sat down beside him and helped Ferrik sit up. Dazed he lent against her.
"Easily, you could send the Wine Seller's Wife to him. She is your assassin now, he wouldn't suspect a thing. Unless you intend her as an end plan if all else fails."
"But, this could be all over... you should have provoked that woman just a bit more. This would all be over, he would be dead. You people of the Wastelands would have united against the Shrieks. All would be right."
Ferrik growled, "no."
"Hmmmm?"
"I said no, things would not be okay. Robin needs to save his fucking wife."
"Guilt..." she said with a shake of the head.
"Harwick said to deliver that wine to them. That it was intended for the killer of his father. He, fucking lied to me, he knew that Robin didn't drink that stuff. He knew he was poisoning her, just couldn't do it himself. Instead, sending his life long friend to kill an innocent woman." He finished with a whisper, his voice full of pain and anger. His hands were clenched tightly and his eyes far away.
"Murder is murder." She replied.
She held him to herself, Ferrik felt the tears and swiped them away.
"Who are you?" Ferrik asked once more a little later. He felt tired now despite only just waking up a short time before.
She smiled, "call be Ebb, I'm here to help you."
Kiall
02-28-2012, 09:26 PM
Bren’s awakening began like all of them, with a lot of noise. He coughed feeling the dryness of his mouth, snorting loudly as he cleared his nose, before coughing again spitting flem onto the floor. He made a few hacking noises as he cleared his throat, he then farted loudly coughing a bit as the smell wafted to his nose. Standing up on unsteady legs he began to stretch, loud cracking noises being heard as he stretched out his arms.
Tilting his back he felt the joints pop, ugh he hated being old. Just as he predicted he felt stiff and sore from sleeping on the hard ground. “Morning,” he said amicably enough as the woman who followed Nathaniel passed him by. It was overcast and cold too which was going to mess with the arthritis in his knee something fierce! Already his knee was slightly swollen and ached to put pressure on it.
He shrugged mentally just have to bear it, hiding his slight limp as best he could, he picked up his pack and sauntered towards the wagon. “Fine day for hunting isn’t it?” He said dryly to no one in particular, “At least we won’t die of thirst…That’s usually how one dies out here, that and cannibalism.”
Wattz
03-01-2012, 08:53 AM
“Ah, cold and wet! My absolute favorite!” Ruby said with a little too much pep in her step. She was, however, quite anything but peppy. The night had not treated her well, having gotten very little sleep. Though there was a slight trace of dark circles beneath her eyes, she hid it all quite well.
She packed up quickly as everyone began awaking around her. She didn’t have too much to pack, though she was careful to make sure her gold was still intact as it had before. Though Ruby had taken her precautions from the night before to make sure nothing had been stolen, there never was such a thing as being too careful.
“You’d better hope we don’t have to go for cannibalism,” Ruby responded casually to Bren’s remark. “You’d probably end up our first target.” She pointed up, then down, as if to signify his height. “Then again, you can probably run the fastest.”
Robin shied away from the smiling Neah with a deep growl, lack of sleep, his worries and the storm had put him in a miserable state. The other man wasn't going to improve it with those sorts of actions. He eyed the smiling man and scratched his head, "dammit. Not this morning."
He looked over the other members of the group. Today was going to be awful. At least a couple of them could joke about it. Suppose that's all they could do.
Robin looked at Neah again and shook his head, "hope you're ready to get wet."
“Ah, cold and wet! My absolute favorite!” Said Ruby.
Peter gave her a dark, dark look and walked away toward where Robin waited. Meanwhile Thramor was quietly chuckling at her and Bren's words to each other.
Once seemingly everyone was ready Robin called them to a march.
Peter sighed as the first drops of water touched his cheeks, he muttered to himself, "that's good."
He was walking along somewhere near the last of their group not willing to talk to anyone. Not that there was much about at all, with the threat of a terrible night coming. Whether intentional or not Peter was beside Morcal. He didn't care.
"What's that?" Grumbled Morcal staring at the boy, his eyes wide and piercing. Peter replied with a stare of his own deciding for once not to shy away and walk off.
"Nothing."
Peter didn't really hear himself speak, it seemed alien to him the cold sound that came out. Whatever it was Morcal shrugged and began scanning over the group once more.
Sometime after lunch the rain had increased. The morning showers had slowly risen from mere spitting to a light drizzle. A fog had settled in too.
At least the wind was gone.
Robin was frustrated, if felt like they had made little progress that day. He couldn't see at all through the mists. How far away was that Hill?
"Robin!" Cried a voice at him, perhaps for a second time. A heavy fist shaking his shoulder too. Morcal growled, "Robin, we need to stop!"
"Just a bit longer," hissed Robin.
"No, the ground is damp. Someone will fall soon." Morcal said, though he plainly cared little for the other members of the group. "Look at your feet, we're far enough."
Frowning Robin stared at the ground, in his frustrated state he hadn't heard the familiar crunch of leaves underfoot. Above them somewhere high in the sky was the outer fringes of the the mammoth Seyelyc tree. A tree that rose with a thick trunk from close to the shore covering far in land with it's foliage. It covered Swanheart Hill.
"Alright Morcal," Robin said after a moment's thought.
Quickly they set up their shelter once more, placing the cart under the canvas left the only half the area for the group to move about in. There would be little room for bedding. Their shelter was held up with heavy metal and designed for the water to run off.
As soon as it was complete and the group was underneath the rain came pouring down. It was heavy enough that they could hardly hear one another.
It would be a long night.
Robin was standing against the cart rubbing his eyes. If there was more room he'd be pacing restlessly - he didn't feel like getting soaked through either. The long sleepless nights had worn him down. He surely looked terrible right then.
In the corner of his eye he saw Victoria fussing about with the donkeys harness. He sighed. How much did he regret dragging her into this.
He set a hand down on the donkey beside where she was working, "Come on Victoria, rest. Or let me help." He sounded tired to his own ears.
She was beginning to think that she wouldn’t be able to do her job without one of them men stepping in to help. Her eyes were kept on her hands, concentrating on their movement as she tried to grasp familiarities in the gestures.
“I thought you were trying to keep your distance from me, Robin. You were friendly in town under our neighbours’ eyes. Ever since…” Her voice trailed off, but she showed the man a small smile, carefree, unhurt by his previous distance.
Robin blinked at her; this wasn't something he needed into his mind. Perhaps he hadn't been showing any attention to her... but ever since leaving the town the journey had been a mess. Robin hadn't expected the trouble.
He wanted to rub his head where the headache was rising.
"Sorry," he said looking away, he knew what she alluded to by cutting herself off. "I was intending to walk beside you more, but things are falling apart."
“There’s no need to apologise,” she protested, “I know you’re busy… trying to hurry to save her.”
Victoria went to check the donkey’s hooves and fetlocks over again, grateful that the beasts were placid enough to allow her the opportunity safely. As she went to bend over, her back tensed, a pressure against her spine that cut her short. She paused, trying to rub free what she assumed to be knotted muscles.
Robin cringed as she rubbed her back, he gave her a worried look, "the donkeys will be fine."
She gave a short grunt to dismiss his worry, and carried on speaking. “Both Peter and Nathaniel have been kind enough to keep me company.” The first name was said with a slight bite, the latter in a warmer tone. “I didn’t want to make myself a nuisance to you.”
"A nuisance?" He questioned, "You're the only friend I have out here, the one I can trust. You know all that's going on."
“And I feel the same towards you,” she replied, a half-truth if anything, “which is why I didn’t want to rely on you for companionship while you were trying to lead us.” Her massaging fingers were doing no good for her back and so she stopped, trying to keep a strong face around the man before her. The pain was clear in her expression, but she could brush it off as more of an annoyance than the agony it was.
“This whole… everything… seems such a mess sometimes. You don’t need me seeking comfort from you, not at a time like this.”
"Dammit Victoria, if your back is hurting just sit down and rest up." Maybe he spoke a little forcefully, more than intended. But he didn't want her to be standing around in pain if there was anything that could be done. Could make things worse for all he knew. Marian would give him... bad looks if she saw him have Victoria working like that.
Robin waved his hands in the general direction of the rain pouring outside their cover. "Is there a better time then this? We aren't going anywhere for the rest of the day. Talk to me about what's wrong."
Pointedly, she stopped what she was doing, wiping her hands of the grime they had picked up whilst touching the dampened equipment. Robin just looked at her, waiting for her to speak, and she baited him with silence in retaliation for the way he had spoken to her. His irritable tone had negated any concern that might have been present in his words.
“If you like…” she muttered, keeping her voice to a volume that secluded the conversation for their ears only. The downpour of the rain felt as heavy as her heart. “…What exactly do you feel towards me?”
Well, that stopped him short.
All his thoughts of worry, and concern disappeared. Their quest vanished from his mind and so did the rain. Just the pounding of his head remained. Robin shivered and felt a dark feeling growing in his stomach full of anticipation and dread. He knew he was about to do something stupid.
"I," he croaked and tried clearing his throat, "I, don't know. Something more," he said feebly, "It confuses me."
And ever since that night things were even more confusing, but he didn't say that.
The huge pressure on her chest seemed to lessen the second she heard his hesitation. She had expected anger, outrage, not indecision. In a way, it was relief…
In a way, it made things all the more confusing.
“I-… I really tried to forget about it,” she stuttered, suddenly flustered, not knowing where her words were truly coming from. Her head wished to clamp her mouth shut, but the will was not there. It was a window for something to happen, to kill the stalemate they had established between them ever since… well, ever since then.
“I-… tried… but I can’t…”
Small droplets of water splashed across her cheeks as the donkeys shifted, taking the place of the tears she wished she could cry. A part of her wanted to move closer to him, to see how he would react, but she was not that selfish.
“I need to tell you something,” she whispered breathlessly, “I need you to keep calm, Robin.”
"Okay," he whispered back not trusting his voice.
All Robin wanted to do was walk several steps away and shout something into the air, he didn't want to be calm. He didn't know how to be calm. So he said again, "okay, I can be calm," in the steadiest voice he could manage. It sounded terrible to his ears.
Despite his dubious promise to keep temper, she couldn’t back out of what she had dragged herself into. She had to keep moving forward, no matter the consequences. It had been wrong to keep it secret for so long.
“I-…”
…Her voice failed her, ending in a hoarseness that formed no words.
“We-…”
…Again, she found herself rushing to find air.
Her body racked with a single sob, although no tears formed. This was harder than she had imagined, all the times she had pictured it in her mind falling to pieces in the moment.
Her trembling hand reached out to grab his, her grip soft as she moved him to reach towards her. Together, their fingers brushed against the loose fabric of her dress, smoothing it over her stomach. Gently, they stroked the bump that formed so slowly on her form.
“I haven’t known very long…” The words felt dead in the air. She softened her hold of his hand, expecting him to jerk away and knowing she would not hate him for doing so.
“Oh."
When she took his hand he'd been confused, but now... a child. Their child. Without realising it Robin had his other hand covering and rubbing his eyes while he tried to think. His mind was blank. Softly he let his hands fall away.
Ideas emerged in his mind, cruel things to say, terrible words to her. But his mouth was numb to them.
"Oh."
He wanted to curse and rant and shout. Be angry. But at Her? No. Robin couldn't do that, he couldn't blame her. Robin could be angry at himself later, but, he hadn't before now. Not after the night.
His body slumped, he took a step back just to keep himself standing. He gulped. He didn't trust his tongue. Slowly, he took a step forward, his breathing erratic. He wasn't sure what he was doing. Awkwardly he reached out as he walked. His eyes were elsewhere, trying hard to focus on... something.
Robin, held her as soft as he could to himself. The lightest embrace.
For a moment, she stood still, rigid as though she expected the mood to change. Nevertheless, when she managed to convince herself that the hatred – the rage - wasn’t coming, her body fell into his. It was not something she had to think about. He was there; she needed someone.
Her arms reached around his waist, her hands playing gently with the dampened fabric of his shirt as she tried to think of what to say, fingers running slowly across his back to remind herself that he was really there… really holding her. Her cheek came to rest upon his shoulder; she wanted to close her eyes but knew better than to get lost in the moment. Being this close, she could see the growth of stumble marring his dark jaw line, the individual droplets of rain that still clung to his coal-black hair. Her unsteady breath caught upon his neck. She was glad she couldn’t see his eyes.
Robin didn't know what he wanted until Victoria had returned his hold, the contact steadied him. He was happy to stay like that for awhile, and more so needed to. He was still shaking but her arms around him strengthened his nerves. His eyes were still unfocused looking beyond her into the rain. They snapped back as she began to speak once more.
“I’ll tell people it was someone else’s…” she muttered quietly, “…that it belongs to a traveller long gone from the town.”
"No," he whispered back in a broken voice, "I won't let you do that to yourself. You know how they say things."
She was trembling. Tears ran freely now.
“I-it’s my fault… I don’t expect you to be involved.”
Every other syllable was punctuated by a stifled sob.
“This… I’m… not what you want.”
Robin spoke over the lump in his throat, hating himself as he whispered, "I'd rather have a child then be with Her..."
She felt cold the second his words washed over her, a deep feeling that set into her stomach, similar to guilt, but something more. Hurt… that he had not mentioned her in his reasoning.
“You love her.” she managed to force out. The words seemed stupid even as they entered the air, but it was something she needed to say… to hear… to remind herself of.
"I do," Robin said as he shed tears of his own, he felt no desire to wipe them away. He opened his mouth to let out a tiny moan as he felt himself breaking apart. His heart thumped and he managed to somehow speak, "but I can't." He sobbed and closed his eyes to the world.
He wanted to say more, to say anything about how he felt. But whatever was inside was twisted with grief and confusion.
There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to ask. Suppressed feelings were welling up – anger, loneliness, affection – and she fought to keep them back. If her questions were posed now, there was no chance of them being what she wanted to hear. Hell, there was no guarantee the answers would even be truth considering the state of his mind and heart.
She kept the silence untarnished; held him tighter, offering comfort in the limited warmth her body could offer. Her stomach brushed against his side as she pulled in closer, melting into his embrace, gently reminding her of what lay inside the walls of her womb. The ache of her back, the pounding of her head, all seemed to fade as she threw her mind into wishing that everything could be righted.
“You’re not a bad man, Robin,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say, “ I wouldn’t…care about you – not this much - if you were.”
He whispered thanks as she tightened her hold around him, the warmth was soothing. He choked as he tried to smile, as he sobbed and clung to her. He didn't want to let go of her. Once his tears had stopped and he opened his eyes to the world again, he felt calmer. He didn't reply immediately.
The rain was still there, still pouring down outside, he listened to it for a while. When he was ready he said, "I care deeply for you as well."
Words she had been longing to hear. Her chest ached with the mere pressure of the moment, disbelief mixing with uncertainty. Still shaking, she drew back from his arms, stumbling a little as she had to support herself again.
“You probably need time to think,” she muttered. In truth, she knew that if the moment continued, she would break the fantasy that she’d created. Something would go wrong. His replies could not keep her heart aflutter forever.
“I’ll be here,” she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hands, “If you need me, anytime, I’m here.”
Robin nodded at her words, trying to recover himself before he turned back into the group. He wiped his face too, "get some rest if you can."
He pulled his hood up and over, covering part of his face; he hoped it discouraged others approaching him. He smiled sadly as he turned about.
Watching him go was painful, but Victoria held strong, never having felt so lost before.
Wattz
03-04-2012, 06:21 AM
Heavy rain brought the memories of the Kingdom to the front of Morcal's mind. Late winter nights beside the fireside in his family's ancient home with his parents beside him. The old days of hope and love. Times of innocence and weakness. Before all changed.
Maybe it was the second large mug of ale he'd drunk, loosening his mind to reminisce. Maybe he'd just had enough, he was tired.
And there she was stuck inside the shelter with him. There was no space for Morcal, no where for him to walk to. So he sat down beside her.
Ruby resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the enormous Morcal sat beside her. She was in no mood to squabble, though she could not fault him for being angry at her tactics. She had her own mug of ale in her hands, gratefully, chugging it as she normally did, though this time she was in no mood to play the fool.
But the silence, oh, the silence was killing her.
"Lovely weather, isn't it?"
He replied emptying his third mug.
There was more silence. He tried to order what he wanted to say but instead said, "just need some heavy hail, or some holes in our cover. Make things pleasant."
"Pleasant indeed!" she said with a hearty laugh. Ruby was quite pleased with the start of this conversation. Not nearly as hostile. "And perhaps if we're lucky, a hailstone will knock the Stoneskin out. Problem solved!"
Couldn't get himself get pulled into banter, so Morcal replied, "maybe a few lightning strikes to remove the ones following us." Perhaps there wasn't humour in his voice, that had faded years ago along with the laughter. But it reminded him of old times and he missed that.
"Ah yes, if only the Gods were on our side," she responded, playfully mocking a wistful sigh. "They'd strike down our enemies, restore the Wasteland to its proper light, rain down upon us an endless supply of mead and gold and wenches." Ruby's voice grew steadily more sarcastic, waving her arms about as if telling a grand story. "Though honestly I'd just take the gold." She gave a light wink.
Morcal almost made mention of the wenches comment, almost. But his eyes hardened at her desire for gold; his hand tightened its grip on the empty mug. Staring he said, "I know all about you and gold."
His voice, cold, and quiet.
Ruby tensed. What exactly was he implying? Did Robin tell him? She kept a smile upon her face, though inside she was seething with the possibility. "Well who doesn't enjoy a nice satchel of gold at one's hip? Who could be faulted for want of riches when we're all guilty of it?"
"Depends on how it is acquired," he replied without a smile, "honestly, or through treachery..."
"Oh, pish posh," she said with two flicks of her wrist. "Who's to say what's honest or treacherous nowadays."
Morcal gave a look toward Robin who was ..... talking to Victoria. That man certainly didn't have honest means of earning money. Morcal sighed and grunted, "perhaps."
"But, I'm talking of the past."
"The past?" Ruby looked up to into Morcal's face. It was always so stoic, so merciless. "What good is the past? Highly overrated, if you ask me. A bunch of sob stories that can't be changed. A lot of blaming and finger-pointing and 'look how poorly my parents raised me.' The past indeed."
Morcal took the mention of parents personally, how she could just reply with ease and confidence, "my parents raised me properly, to be honest, to be respectful, despite the state of the world. Taught me to be right."
"No," he growled, "I can blame another for who I am."
Frustration rose in Ruby's chest, with the conversation going in circles. Did he or did he not know who she was? But she allowed herself to lighten the mood with another smile. "Oh goodness me, how did the conversation even end up this way. The Wasteland must already be getting to us. All this talk of pasts and secrets... such a waste of energy."
Morcal made a face, he supposed being subtle wasn't something he was good at. He looked away and almost rose to his feet and said, "you're right, waste of energy talking to someone who's going to lie and cheat. Good night Esmerelda."
"What?" It wasn't her real name, no, but it was so strikingly familiar she felt as if it might as well have been. So many names she'd gone by, so many names, and rarely did they ever interconnect. "You must have me mistaken." But she knew it was not so, no, and suddenly the name Morcal became quite familiar as well. But not attached to this hulking mass. To a young man a long time ago, tall but slight, gangling, even clumsy at times. His family had been so thoughtful, so generous to take her in, but oh so unsuspecting as she robbed them blind.
"I... I see. It's been a long time, Morcal."
He resettled down beside her, without pause he reached his arm around her shoulders to hold her close. Once it might have been a comfortable thing, warmth and companionship. But now all there was only the cold. He leaned into her, ignoring the camp.
"A long time," he echoed her, "but I still remember, even if time changes us all. I still remember what you've done."
Ruby pushed his arm off her shoulders, not with malice, but to retain the distance they'd had before. Comforting though it had been at one point, it served her no purpose now. "Old friendships are always difficult to dispose of. I don't blame you, no, not at all. And my how you've uh... grown." He was bulky, enormous now, nothing like the feeble Morcal she'd known in the past. "Stocked up on protein, have you?"
"When suddenly without coin to pay debts I was sold into an army. It was this or die." He spoke in a detached voice. "You're still short."
Morcal lifted his lips with the hint of a smile, "Old friendships? Is that what it's supposed to be called now? A friend and nothing more."
"Well is there anything wrong with a simple friendship? It's far less complicated, if you ask me. I've never been one for anything more."
Morcal looked at her, confused with old memories of nearly ten years before trying to make sense of everything. Her betrayal to the family had meant little to him, but, back then his mind had been filled with just her. When she left...
He lent in and kissed her cheek.
"I can tell." He whispered, before beginning to rise.
"Charming." Ruby kept her ground, rubbing the side of her cheek. "Truly. Such flattery was never known." She took a casual swig of her ale. So many years, so many years had passed since the whole mess, that most lingering sentiments had dried up.
Morcal, walked away.
It was her deepest desire right then to be able to brave the cold and find some rest in the nightmare unfolding. She didn’t feel comfortable doing so however; everyone was still awake, close by, and she was unsteady from her talk with Robin. Her mind needed to be distracted until it and the camp were peaceful enough for her to sleep.
Thankfully, she was not the only one to be lost in thoughts.
“Nathaniel?” she murmured to the man, sitting down next to him. She could only think back to his kind words and long for them in the despair of the evening.
A sigh escaped her lips, “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”
He looked up to her, his hair already soaked in water and he was in a rather terrible mood, but her sight just brought a smile to his lips. "Sure it has, my dear... How are you?" he asked while whipping the rain off his face and cleaning his hair dry from the pour.
“I think we’ve all been better than how we feel right now,” she replied bitterly, but only sighed at the tone in her own voice, “It feels… tense.”
She paused. “You feel tense,” she murmured, unsure whether she had a right to comment on such things under the short time they had been acquainted.
He was stunned and taken a back, but only for a moment before he smiled, "What would make you say that, dear?"
She hesitated before sighing, “You know… I’m not even sure. I thought…” She trailed off and shook her head, cutting the sentence short as she realized its stupidity. The man was little more than a stranger to her, trying to guess his moods would make her appear little more than a fool. They said that misery loved company; perhaps she only hoped for him to be sad for the sake of herself. She longed for empathy, but it was not something she would let cloud her emotions. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t say things like that.”
He chuckled, "But... It is important you speak up your mind...", he moved a bit too close for her direction, but he looked as if the new distance between them wasn't THAT intimidating, "Tell me, why do I look tense to you?"
“No… no…” There was no hope in retracting her mistaken comment; she felt flustered that she had had the nerve to even say such a thing, “You seem fine.”
She paid little attention when he moved towards her, more focused of trying to amend her hasty words, “You just haven’t spoken to me today… and you barely even noticed when I approached you.” She could feel pink staining her cheeks, a seemingly frequent occurrence when this man was involved, “That seems so terribly self-centered now I say it out loud…”
"I find it amusing...", he said while bowing down his head to her, their face a small distance from each other as he reached his hands to pet her cheeks, "And alluring too... How inconsiderate of me..."
She bashfully pushed his hand away, feeling her cheeks grow ever warmer. Her rosy complexion did her no favors; how so cursed them so. Distant eyes wandered towards Robin – her heart grew heavy – before snapping back onto the man before her. "I'd rather have a child then be with her..." Those fate-twisting words pushed into her mind, refusing to give her peace, twisting her stomach in the tenderness of the current moment. Perhaps he would see the sadness in her eyes – she had never been adept at hiding her emotions – but she tried to cover it with a gentle smile.
A change in subject to tear her mind from the whims of men.
“It seems like it will be cold tonight.” She murmured before having a sudden realization, “I think…my tent is ruined...”
He nodded and backed away, but only a bit. He knew when he was to step down, but he was not a type to let go so quickly, "Yes... The rain is not bad, but considering we don't have much...", he brushed off more rain drops from his hair and forehead, "I say it will be a long road ahead... are you well rested, my dear?"
“Not as much as I’d like to be,” she confided. Feelings of guilt began to weigh her down; was she to act uninterested towards a man who showed her so much care and attention whilst longing after a man already wed? It was a notion for girls, not women… or, at least, that’s what she tried to convince herself of. “The constant motion of the cart strains my back; it makes me tense.”
Her tone was light-hearted, yet unsteady, “I was almost tempted to ask Robin to massage the muscles so I could relax… It wouldn’t be proper though, not with his wife.”
Something glittered with Nathaniel's eyes as he licked his teeth and chuckled, "You probably should... No harm in asking..." He then rubbed his hands and arms, letting her make the next move if she so desired something from him.
She raised an eyebrow at him, both disliking the restraint and finding it a challenge to her womanly desirability, “A gentleman would be keen to help a lady, especially if it stopped a married man from straying.”
He smiled, "I'd love to relieve you dear," he chuckled softly, "If that is your wish."
With both hands, she scooped up her hair and brushed it over the front of her shoulder, letting it fall across her chest. It gave him a clear canvas for which to work his fingers upon, a glimmering hope that the dull aches of pregnancy might be washed away by his efforts. A part of her did not feel comfortable, but she pushed past it, happy to play in the desires of the moment.
“Let’s see how good you are with your hands then,” she said, her body language an invite to move closer.
Peter was not wearing his shirt.
Perhaps this was his fourth drink? Yeah, right, four was a good number.
He staggered away from the keg with his mug sloshing all over himself - his beard, or well the hair on his chin was damp with the stuff. He didn't have to stagger too far finding himself in a group of happy cheerful people rather quickly.
Two women gave him uninterested looks. Freya, the one with the kinda creepy pale skin, and white dress which had been made .... with the rain well... The dress .... And the rain.... And dear Angels. "Stop staring Peter," he may have said this quite loud.
And the other one was the Spider, she scared the shit out of him. "Evening Selena, probably not the best time to be searching for stuff to kill. But could probably be worse, eh? Could be killing and getting wet... Though I guess that wouldn't faze you much."
He was pretty sure she didn't move at all as he spoke. He tried squinting but that made him nearly fall over. So he shut up for a bit and tried enjoying the silence with the rest of them, he nodded a couple of times. Smiled at them. It felt... nice.
Oh and Morcal was there too. Lovely company all round. Though he and the bulky man seemed to have come to an understanding. Peter gave him a friendly nod which was returned as a narrowing of eyes. "Well so much for that," he said cheerfully to the women beside him.
Kiall
03-06-2012, 01:14 AM
It had been a miserable slog for everyone. A miserable day good for miserable thoughts, be they sad memories, or dark revelations. Though for Bren his focus wasn’t on his own past, or even the worries of others, no all of his attention was focused on his damn knee and how much it hurt. The cold wetness pierced his skin like daggers, and the fog kept visibility to a minimum, he felt his knee swell underneath his leggings and it had taken an effort to not limp and to keep the look of pain out of his face.
He had sighed with relief when they finally stopped, he had stood eagerly in line when the beer was being handed out in large mugs. Taking a deep drink he sighed feeling the warmth spread through his body. He headed deeper into the shelter looking for a place to sit. Luckily a spot opened up as Morcal left, heading off to do something or other. He noticed Ruby seemed flustered, but decided to head over anyways valuing sitting down over her privacy.
“Mind if I sit down with ya?” He asked moving beside her and beginning to sit down regardless. He grunted and groaned as he slid down the wall, his legs popping as his butt made it’s slow descent to the floor. He sighed as he plopped down taking a swig of ale. “Word of advice my friend, never grow old,” he said with a wry smile. “It ain’t nearly as enjoyable as it’s made out to be.”
Ruby sighed, but smiled at the man Bren sitting beside her. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or bothered that she'd be speaking to someone else, but at the very least it was someone tolerable. "Words of wisdom indeed! I shall duly note them. Perhaps find my way to a fountain of youth." Another drink. "Ah, how... surprising this trip has turned out to be. Tell me my dear Bren, how have you been fairing? Well, I hope."
Bren shrugged, “well enough I suppose, no such thing as an enjoyable trip through the Waste but this one seems to be going fine,” he leaned back taking a swig from his mug. “Company’s good, though everyone seems caught up in their own agendas. That’s how it goes I guess…Ambition, passion, greed, everyone thinkin this little quest will change everything for them, make things better. Truth is nothing ever really changes, success or failure the world will keep moving on regardless.” He sighed taking a heavier drink. “Don’t think I have many more quests I have in me, I’ve always been a fighter, poverty, people and now the inevitable. Though I don’t think it’s a fight I’ll be able to win.” He shook his head, “sorry lass I’m rambling, you get like that when you’re my age,” he said grinning. “How about you then my friend? How has this little journey been for you?”
Ruby ignored the last question. "You're terribly down on yourself. If you could be anymore melancholy, I assume your head would fall off." She would have asked him why he should join Robin's side if he was so tired, but she refrained. They all had their reasons, and that one seemed a little too rude for the moment. "Don't fret, my friend, you'll make it through just fine. We'll go out there, fetch the heart, and then you can spend the rest of your days in peace, should you see such a life as fitting."
Bren laughed bitterly, “I could have retired a hundred times by now,” he sighed, “truth is I’m not strong enough to be anything but a warrior.” He shook his head, what was wrong with him? He was blubbering like a child, “Bah! I really do sound depressing, how much have I had to drink?” He looked down at his mug, chuckling. He was still on his first mug and already he was getting maudlin. “You don’t like to talk about yourself do ya?” He said looking at her. Her avoidance of his question had not been lost on him, “I mean we’ve been travelling for days and I don’t know much more beyond your name.” He shrugged taking another drink, “I get it though, you have a past. I won’t pry, it’s your business after all.” He clapped her on the shoulder, his large hand covering the small bony thing, “For what it’s worth though…I don’t think you’re a bad sort, bit snarky sometimes, but not rotten,” he said with a grin.
"I'm sure you're just selling yourself short." She was trying to be comforting, but it came out more stilted than anything else. Usually she was quite good at playing up the charm, but Bren's feelings were so ingrained and personal that Ruby knew it would do no good.
She lurched forward as Bren clapped her on the shoulder, but she held no ill will. "I assure you, I'm not trying to be intentionally mysterious," she said with an air of good humor. "I simply find others more fascinating than myself." A partial lie. She really did find herself quite fascinating. "I appreciate the sentiment. For what it's worth, I'm sure you're quite a fine man yourself. Worthy of more than being a simple warrior."
Bren snorted derisively but smiled nonetheless. "Here's to us then," he said holding up his mug, "two patron saints of Swanheart Hill!" He chugged the rest of his beer, before belching loudly. He chuckled wiping his face, his good humor returning. He grunted standing up, "I'm getting two more beers for us! Been way too long since i've had the chance to get drunk with a friend."
Extraordinaire.
03-09-2012, 11:08 PM
"Rain," Celeste said passively, stating the addition to their misfortune, rather than complaining. Humidity was accompanied by the downpour and with it, a thick fog broke away from the air, leaving behind a ground-level cloud to obstruct their view.
The group was anticipating their travel to another sleepless night, so to keep her sanity at level, the brunette decided to use her charm for being social. Glancing around, she spotted the young man who Robin seemed to be accepting of, except now the boy stood shirtless, with an unmistakable breath of his escape. Hell, how did he even manage to smuggle alcohol onto the cart? It was much too flammable- but then again, Celeste was sure that there were much darker secrets hidden in that wagon.
"Pardon?" she asked boldly, tapping the drunkard on the shoulder. "I was hoping you could do me a favor and direct me to your stash," she said in a hushed voice, opening the fact that she wouldn't be able to make it to sundown, without a little encouragement.
"My stash?" Peter replied confused, he wobbled about to talk to... another one of the women in the group. He'd heard her name once of twice spoken by the others, but it escaped him then. Maybe he should have paid more attention.
"Oh! This.... I saw that big Morcal guy drag a keg around the other side of the cart," he explained, "here," he said grasping her hand softly to lead her about their small shelter.
Twisting her wrist, she slid her wrist without having to pull away and casually distracted the gesture, by pulling her wavy hair back. They passed a tent that's smell could only represent another unfulfilled night and eager to escape it, she rushed into the tent, bumping into the man's backside.
"Well, remind me to thank Morcal for this conveniency... Could you spare a glass?" she asked him, peeling her eyes away from the Keg to glance at him.
Peter, smiled, nearly fell over as they rushed into the tent. But he turned quick and caught himself by placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he mumbled.
"Oh yes sure - looks like all the others have gone ... you can have mine, it's empty," Peter said, he looked down into it. Hadn't he only filled it up a few minutes before? He offered her the cup.
"Peter, right?" she asked, feeling like she might as well give him the chance, had he been so helpful. "So why are you here?" she asked, peeking out the tent to make sure no one had left, before settling on the ground. Hopefully his current state would make him less of a hard ass, then everyone else was about their past.
"Yeah that's right, your name seems to be lost to me right now, sorry about that," he babbled. Peter sat down beside her on the ground unconcerned about anything he fell upon. Quickly he shared his reasons happily.
"Well, I've always liked stories told about warriors and people and that stuff, and want people to tell them about me. Seeing this quest gave me the first option to get out into the world."
"Also the family was being annoying about working on things, had to get out quick." He admitted with a mumble.
Gently he reached out and touched her shoulder, "how about you?"
"The average hero," she nodded, impressed that he hadn't told some sob-story. She paused when he asked her, finishing her drink before speaking. "I've got a bit of a past with the demons, so I took advantage of the opportunity," she said honestly, without revealing too much.
"I just don't understand why you would risk dying over an ego boost. Why not just join the military here?" she offered, rolling on her stomach after he touched her shoulder, her legs crossed in the air behind her. "But while we're here, why don't we make a little deal?"
Peter took the cup back as she spoke, listening intently - lots of people had pasts with demons, though not many decided to go out and target them. Her brief words impressed him so he nodded excitedly.
Once he'd filled the drink back up he set it down on the ground between them, resettling beside her. "Wouldn't have been the same..... A little deal?" He asked, there was an eagerness to his voice.
"Well more like a pact, I supposed..." she said vaguely, her eyes following him to the keg and back. "Morcals going to have a fit if you drink him clean," she said as a side note, before continuing. "People are going to start to get antsy after today. They're going to start making rash decisions, and their greed will get to them. We're all going to be our own men, expected to fight together," she started to explain, hoping she didn't come off as too strange. "But if we look out for one another, then we won't have to worry about getting ahead of ourselves and you can prove how unaverage you are to your town," she smiled, playfully teasing him.
"Kind of like friends," she suggested shyly, sitting up beside him.
"Wouldn't want to return the same as before," he muttered in agreement. Peter frown at his hands after he took a drink, somehow his gloves had vanished. Great. He nearly wobbled over.
When he had steadied she was sitting up once more, "work together, kill that demon?" Peter liked the sound of it, having someone there if he needed it. The others didn't seem to be that sort of person at all.
"Friends?" Living with his family, he hadn't really ever had too much time so there had never really been too many people to talk to. He wasn't even sure if he'd ever had friends. But, she was there now, sounded like she was awkward in asking, she smiled prettily at him before. He watched her lips for a moment, awkwardly he smiled trying to meet her eyes. He remember, suddenly, how soft her skin had been to touch. Peter shuffled his hands about in his lap, trying to feel more comfortable at the sudden wave of emotions. After a pause he said, "yes, sure."
"Well, speaking as a friend, I think it's time to cut you off," she smiled, boldly taking the glass out of his hand and placing it behind her, eliminating any space between them. "Can't be hung over for your big day tomorrow," she said absentmindedly, studying his silence, trying to pinpoint his thoughts. The sudden pound of feet against the ground interrupted the focus, startling the girl and reminding her of the reality outside of the tent.
"I think that's my cue to go get my things," she laughed, reaching for his hand and squeezing is lightly, before getting up.
"Oh, I almost forgot," she said, lingering at the entrance, "my name's Celeste."
"Oh, okay, have a good night," he mumbled, his body racing at her sudden closeness, as she held his hand. He smiled at her laughter, there wasn't much of that on this bleak quest. "See you tomorrow sometime."
Peter lay back on the ground, closing his eyes and content to sleep there. He didn't really know who's tent this was, but whatever.
Chapter 5
Swanheart Hill.
Late Afternoon at Swanheart Hill
The following day brought the sun once more, the rain having disappeared quicker than it had come. One would have expected the ground to have still been soft and wet to walk upon, but it was barely damp to touch and dried quickly as the day progressed.
Littered from the great tree above was a thick layer of leaves and sticks as the group made their way toward the hill. It wasn't enough to cause the donkeys trouble, only slow them down somewhat.
There were only flickers of sunlight amongst the shadows, ever changing from the swaying branches high above their heads. It was cool and a touch windy atop the hill.
By mid-afternoon they had dragged their way to the hill and had begun to walk up the slope. And they had noticed the enemy party closing in from behind.
~~
At Swanheart Hill
"Alright," Robin said at last, they had reached the top of the hill. After a moments pause for everyone to have a drink and stretch or whatever.
"Before we can start searching for our demon, we need to get rid of them..." he gestured down back down the hill and their followers. "I hope you're all ready for battle, get your weapons ready.
"They have at least one Demon with them, the Shriek from earlier. But if the alliance is true, they could have several more. We need to get rid of them quickly, just steer clear of the screams and everything will be alright."
"It is likely they could have a Sorcerer with them, remove them too if you can. Perhaps they might have the strength for four or five attacks, dodging them might be the best defense we have."
Robin shrugged after that, "okay ready?"
Perhaps a moment after he'd spoken, the earth shook and the middle of the hill exploded outward showering the group in leaves and dirt. In the small hole was a creature that looked like stone. It turning toward the group, it was a Stone-Eater.
Robin looked from the demon down to the other enemies, they were now charging up the hill. The group needed to split up to take on them both.
"The others are charging too, we need to split up!" He shouted at the group.
Thankfully, she had managed to avoid anything further than a back-massage with Nathaniel last night. Her thoughts had been on Robin since, guiltily playing out her fantasies of their future in the privacy of her mind. It was not that she didn’t like the former – his hands had been convincing enough that she might not have hesitated another time – but there was something…
Just…something. He reminded her of her first love perhaps – a relationship that ended abruptly the moment he saw another woman – but whether that was a bad thing, she did not know. Maybe Nathaniel was a kinder version. The only reason she dismissed him so readily was because of her… ailment.
A terrible term for her condition, but it was how she felt outside the comfort of Robin’s arms.
With a sigh, she bitterly realised that it might not matter. Swanheart Hill drew ever closer – Would they all survive? She had doubts that clawed at her nerves. With every second they approached, she felt nausea rising ever strong.
It was happening so soon.
Before she knew it, the ground was heaving from a demon’s wrath and another group was storming towards them with frenzied might.
"The others are charging too, we need to split up!"
She blinked; her mind had frozen. No matter how she tried, all thoughts seemed to stop dead, dissipating the moment she tried to grasp hold of their genius.
“What do I do?” she asked dumbly, but the words themselves seemed to spark ideas.
She had not been dragged along to ride a cart nor whine about the well-deserved misfortune life had thrown her way.
She was there to…
“This.”
She clenched her hands and threw them up in the air. The gesture, while seemingly pointless, soon became apparent in use.
With a thundering sound, the ground began to quake, splitting a line across its surface that ran between the two groups. Three men in width; a fall within, deep enough to kill. It grew in size as she concentrated her energy, tearing apart the soil until the fissure was large enough to hinder, at the least.
Protecting the group meant protecting the father of her child. It was enough to motivate her into action.
Extraordinaire.
03-12-2012, 01:09 AM
Celeste had only expected some faulty complication, but the unfortunate timing impressed even her. She watched as the ground shook, spitting up dirt and weed as the demon unearthed itself, emerging like a mole. Shuddering at the familiar sight, she felt an intense hatred feverishly fill her body, overwhelmed by the need to see its death.
"The others are charging too, we need to split up!" Robin announced, as the rather miniature girl from before raised both of her arms, forcefully separating the marshy earth, creating an endless gap between the sides. "A mote," she thought respectively, quickly darting to the left, hoping to circle around the demon.
"I've got the demon," she called to Robin, glaring through blameful at the unintelligent creature.
Keeping her ground beside a semi-circle of stacked boulders that created a sense of cyclopian masonry, she waited for the others to depart from the group and chose their own faith. Wishing she'd had a more immediate weapon, she plucked the poison-green dart off of its belt and fit it into the sling-shot like advice. She waited for the demon took a few steps towards the group, before releasing her aim. However, instead of penetrating the stone eater, it merely hit the thick leathery skin and rebounded in another direction.
"Shit," she whispered, eying the measly dagger she had brought, only for the conveniency of their campsite.
Her lips were thin as she studied the monster, who she'd rather be skinned alive than have it exist past dawn, but knew that she could make no contribution to its kill, at the moment. Heading back to the heart of the group, she looked around for Peter, hoping that he would have some idea of which direction to go in.
She'd be able to spill the poison into the demon if she was at a close enough range, but she'd first have to wait for it to spill some of its energy, so that she wouldn't become a statue. "Peter?" she asked around, hoping that in his sober state, he would keep to their deal. She waited for the other's to sort out before deciding to help against the rebels, or take her shot at the stone-eater
Peter didn't know whose shirt he was wearing but it wasn't his. It was quite large for him but was otherwise all right. No one had mentioned it to him yet so it seemed to be okay. Ever since they had left their camp in the morning Peter had held his ax and shield in hand together. His knife was close by too but his old gloves were gone.
He was listening to Hood talk on and on about the enemies following them up the hill, gripping his ax tightly. His hands were sweating and he was scowling down at the others. He gave a look toward Thramor... to Bren... even Morcal. Suddenly he doubted himself, why was he there. Shouldn't he be home with his sisters?
A cloud of dirt hit his hair breaking his thoughts, and he turned about stunned. There was someone shouting, probably Hood, but his eyes were wide and focused on the creature of stone.
While Celeste acted quick, he was sluggish standing there dumb for a moment or two. He might have been attacked if she hadn't already swung into action.
"Peter?"
The voice called, remind him of the time his sister had slid while working on the barn. Sort of urgent but not panic induced. Whatever was in it pushed him into action, if perhaps foolishly.
Peter charged in with his ax held high and his shield arm ready to protect himself. The Stone Eater had gone after Celeste but flicked its eyes back at the young man. Peter took the final step between them intending to crush his ax into it's shoulder.
Instead, he was simply swatted away. He grunted as he was flung off his feet for a moment before crunching back into the dirt, he rolled a few times before staring up to the sky dazed. He groaned.
~~~
Robin hadn't watched what his group intended to do, his eyes were focused down on the enemy. After half a week of watching Marian grow sicker he could finally let the anger and pain that was barely being contained out.
It took a moment to focus before he let his arrow fly free. It flew over the dividing crack in the earth and past the charging man without a shirt. Robin frowned. The same man below let out a scream coming up toward to fissure. Robin's arrow thudded into the shoulder of a man as large as Morcal but did nothing to slow him down.
Robin gave an appreciative smile toward Victoria, anything that slowed down the enemy was good.
Somewhere down below a woman stared calmly at the gap between the groups. Hidden behind the men already climbing she pressed her hands to the ground. Forcing her will deep brought forth a stone pillar, thrusting through the earth to connect the sides of the fissure she created a stone bridge. It wasn't wide enough for two people to walk across, barely enough for one.
Immediately she began to draw forth more power, searching for a way to attack her enemy mage up at the top of the hill.
Morcal with nothing more than his fists charged downward to defend his side of stone bridge.
Kiall
03-15-2012, 12:37 AM
Bren grinned a fierce hungry grin gripping his battleaxe in his hand. He could smell it on the wind, the smell of a battle soon to be fought. He heard Robin’s cry to split up and looked down towards the nearest foe the demon. Already two of the party had gone to face the creature, Peter being one of them. Bren ignored the shaking of the earth his blue eyes creased in a look of absolute fury as he watched the monster backhand the boy sending him tumbling to the ground.
Roaring his battle cry he charged, eating up the distance between him and his foe as he had done countless times before. He swung his battle axe low near at the waist hoping to make it harder for the demon toblock with his arms. The Stoneeater swung its arm, but did not repel him. His axe slowed and the blade sunk a few meager inches into the thing’s thick flesh.
The thing screamed in pain and anger, but had little time to do much else as Bren pulled his axe out and swung it around with practiced ease. Pushing forward he swung his axe raining blow after blow, some bounced off the creature’s skin but others managed to sink a few inches into its flesh. His seemingly tireless assault kept the creature on the defensive, as the old warrior fought on.
Nathaniel's eyes grew wide and big within their sockets before narrowing and examining, back and forth, the abrupt change of surrounding that took him by a complete surprise.
"Qadir!", he barked and the tanned skin warrior was already beside him, followed by the woman who had no trouble taming Nathaniel's horse and leading it with her as well.
Nathaniel looked around himself, trying to seize the situation, noticing how the group divided naturally and once they seemed to have formed some sort of two teams he tried to judge how to divide his own power into this.
"Qadir", he spoke slowly, "Take my horse, Join Morcal", he looked slowly around him and smirked, "Azaria", he played with his fingers over his red ring, "I am going to use you today".
She seemed somewhat upset but didn't say anything.
"I trust you will enjoy the fact that some of your powers will be returned to you, dear", he smiled as he started to chant something under his breath.
His ring started to glow and so did her image...
Under the Stone Eater's feet, the ground shook. Frustrated with defense it pulled earth upward and pushed itself backward through the air. It landed meters away as a soil wall separated demon from warrior.
Something resonated nearby, a power, too close.
The demon of stone called something in an ancient tongue. This power was not that of screams, it was not that of the pact for precious stone. It was that of fire, it was warmth and it was the enemy.
It saw her beyond the frail earth wall glowing in mortal flesh. The Stone Eater called once more, a challenge, an inquiry, a threat in one message. But, this was a breach, territory claimed. The voice was for mere customary traditional benefits. It was meaningless.
Beneath them all the earth stirred once more, and small sharp stones were forced into the air around the demon. They floated about before being directed toward the fire demon, flashing with speed they raced away.
Caught up in fighting a more ancient enemy, the stone eater failed the feel as Thramor thrust his spear into the creatures back.
Meanwhile Freya "The Ghost" awaited to strike with her thin bladed weapon.
~~~
The wild man, the one known as the Garrish reached the bridge first scrambling across without pause for safeties or concern. He'd had his axe long drawn before Morcal had reached him. They met at the chasms edge with Fulnar's weapon desiring to rip a lengthy gash into Morcal's chest. Morcal's heavy mass seemed to push the man underneath the attack knocking Fulnar away.
Growling Fulnar turned quick slashing at Morcal's head, reckless like. The big man hissed ducking aside, catching Fulnar he threw the shirtless man toward Qadir.
And then Krell had made it across the bridge. The others awaiting on the other side. An arrow flew over, missing them ever slightly.
~~~
Robin swore as his arrow flew wide. He was having trouble with distance, but moving below would make him an easy target for the mage. He growled.
"Victoria!" He called, hating to bring her more into the battle, "we need to defeat this mage."
He looked down the hill, it was too hard to tell which of the enemy was his target. But he felt power stirring down there. Waiting for them to make a move.
He wanted to keep her safe, atop the hill. He stood beside her, "if I distract them, shoot at them, could you defend against the things they throw at me?"
~~~
Disappeared was Selena the Spider, hidden, somewhere nearby. Waiting.
She was annoyed that the men were still able to reach them, that the gap created had been overcome so easily. True, it had slowed them down, made it easier for her side to defend, but still… seeing the power of magic thrown back against her irked the woman. Self-doubt tangled her in a web of hesitation. She faltered, unsure where to run or what to do. Those already fighting were strong – Should she offer her help? Was it needed?
Frozen against action, Robin’s voice reached her and tore her forth, "Victoria! We need to defeat this mage."
Fear kept a tight grip on her gut, nausea snaking across her senses.
"If I distract them, shoot at them, could you defend against the things they throw at me?"
Her head made venomous protests against his suggestion – I can’t! Oh god, please, I can’t! – but it was her heart who controlled her mouth.
“I’ll do everything I can,” she found herself saying. Quietly, she groaned with dread, but adrenaline was pumping fast.
“Good," Robin replied, missing her groan as relief filled him. Distracted, he glanced down as the enemy. "Okay," he said, urging himself to do what needed to be done, despite feeling he should stay close by.
Gently, he touched her shoulder, "Thank you, please protect yourself..."
Robin turned; he reached for another arrow. He crouched down low rushing down the hill after the others.
Robin hadn't run halfway to the other group, when he felt the sudden release in the air. He couldn't feel whatever had been growing before. He halted his charge pulling his bow back.
A second group of four was coming forth from the enemy cart below. The energy surged from within them. An arc, a blade of power soared up the hillside at him. It was coming at a flash, screaming upside the hill at Robin. It widened its reach as it moved.
Robin released his arrow. He didn't try to dodge away.
Victoria was ready. Energy stored, released.
The ground five metres in front of the man bulged, narrowly missing the tail end of his arrow, rising upwards to create a barricade as wide as she could manage. She poured more of her energy in, solidifying it in the blink of an eye, a mud-like wall against the magical onslaught. The rush of power swept into her defence, slicing into it but losing momentum thus.
Both attack and shield dissolved into nothing, the latter falling back to the earth in clumps of congealed soil.
Pain wracked her abdomen from the exertion of power, but she held steady.
Robin had another arrow ready releasing it as soon as the soil wall allowed. It followed a similar path as the previous. A few paces behind the group a woman lay amongst the leaves clutching a shoulder.
A pillar emerged, a quick thrust of the magic for emergency. It flashed up, smashing into Robin's arrow protecting an unarmed woman. It dissolved an instant later.
Evidently the two men beside the mage decided it was too dangerous to stick around, deciding crossing the bridge might be safer.
Robin started to ready a new arrow. He cried out to Victoria, gesturing at the mage below, trying to say they should attack together.
The woman understood – at least, partially – but she balked at the idea.
To hurt another person…
Would she?
Could she?
The woman did not want to disappoint him; it was the last of her wishes… and if she were to fail now, Marian would suffer the consequences. The selfish truth of human nature was amused by the prospect, lusted after her own friend’s death, but Victoria denied it life. Quelling all her own desires, she tried to distance her mind, to pretend murder wasn’t as drastic as her morals told her otherwise.
In the end, Robin released his attack, and she was too scared. Aiming for the kill was beyond her at that point; survival did not yet have a clutch on her throat.
She settled for trying to remove the other mage from the fight, without taking her life. She timed her act a split-second after his arrow should have met its mark.
On the other side of the chasm, the earth fountained into the air, unsettled by something beneath. That something soon appeared in the form of a geyser, shooting out from the earth with a force immeasurable. The tilt of the ground sent it hurdling towards the other woman.
Whether the attacks had come too quick, Robin didn't know, but after dispelling his arrow once more Victoria's geyser slammed the mage off her feet and back down the hill. Perhaps, not killing, but with the flashes of power the mage would be heavily weakened.
Robin smiled, he turned to wave Victoria backward but the glint of something catching a stray flicker of sunlight made him stumble. He growled, narrowly avoiding a swipe at his body.
Whatever enchantment held the woman faded and he saw Selena reaching once more to attack him.
Victoria could do little but watch in horror as the traitor tried to stab him. Her hands twitched, prepared to do magic, but it was not something one could do with delicacy. From the distance she was at, she would end up hurting both members of the duo.
Her thoughts reeled with frenzied hurry, trying to rationalise a reaction whilst the second ticked forward. She needed to get closer. She needed to help.
With the cart to her rear, she reached back and grabbed the first thing her hand made contact with. Metal felt cool upon her skin; she tightened her grip and yanked the object free, running forth with as much vigour as she could manage. The pan (http://astor-versand.eshop.t-online.de/WebRoot/Store6/Shops/Shop10643/4776/3509/4BBB/402E/9450/AC14/5009/2FE3/1901900401.jpg) now in her grasp was not heavy, but she held it in both hands regardless.
There was no part of her mind that expected she would get close enough to use it, just a nagging that any weapon was better than none.
She only needed to gain enough distance that she could use her magic effectively.
Robin wasn't terrible with knives but he had a problem with actually pulling one of his own when Selena's attacks were coming so quick. He was lucky to manage ducking out the way.
Instead, he growled at her in the darkest tone, "Was it Harwick that sent you too?" He said it to distract himself as much her. There was only so much he could take, a betrayal now was sending him over the edge.
Selena didn't reply, perhaps saddened by the task forced upon her. But her attacks kept coming at him. Behind the assassin he saw Victoria coming to his aide. The distraction earned him a cut to the side which made him duck back hastily. He stumbled down the hill more losing his bow in the process.
He grunted, catching Selena's wrist in his hands. She seemed scarily strong forcing the blade close to him. Pain and exhaustion kept him from doing more. "Was it fun journeying along, just for this moment," Robin hissed at her.
His words seemed to strike something within her but instead of weakening her attack - the blade came at him with new strength. Robin grunted trying to push away; he managed a step or two before falling to his knees. The wound to his side seemed to have soaked his shirt with blood.
Victoria had the other woman clearly in her sight, hatred boiling over the kind persona she clung to so dearly. A splash of red caught her eyes, spilt across him, and restraint snapped. She swung the utensil at hand in an arc before her, slicing the air with the blackened metal. Although there was a large distance keeping her from making physical contact, such things were not important for a mage.
The force of the pan buffeted the air and pushed it forth, her magic amplifying its power so that the gust carried on after it should have died. Blades of grass were ripped from their earth-bound homes, flying into the sky as the wind rampaged down the hill. The air grew hot – it sizzled like oil on fire – and she concentrated those invisible flames towards the assassin only.
Victoria was not adept in offensive magic, but anger could bring forward strange things.
Where she had told herself to stop running, she found her feet still covering ground, kicking up soil in their harried journey. Sense seemed a lesser priority while he bled upon the earth.
Victoria's magic leapt across Selena's back, like a whip following the Pan's movement through the air. Standing over the fallen Robin, she howled in pain. Beneath her clothing the burn was great and her body was in deep agony, she was bending over slouching and swaying as the wound began to grow. Strained Salena kept her feet somehow, turning slowly to meet the charging woman.
But it was enough for Robin to find his legs, and a weapon of his own. And stab the group's traitor in the back. Beneath his dagger he saw a line of blood beginning to soak through the clothing. Robin pulled the woman backward so Victoria would not see, and took several steps upward once more.
The amateur mage was there to meet him, dropping the pan to the ground as she approached, her eyes finding his wound in an instant. With trembling hands, she reached out to give him support, worry etched along her features. All her previous anger was gone in that instant… left to die with the assassin. The ever-raging battle was an afterthought.
“Are you okay?”
Robin fell into her outstretched arm, trying not to pull them both to the ground. He steadied himself, adrenaline still flowed through him. His shirt was torn and he could see his body opened beside his ribs.
"I don't think the wound is too deep, I'm not sure, needs to be bandaged," he said with his heavy breathing, "You aren't harmed?"
She shook her head softly, “No.”
With an anxious pause and a sigh, she corrected herself, “Not yet.”
Wattz
03-18-2012, 04:57 AM
Ruby wasn’t as strong, but she was short, quick and difficult to hit. Her rapier would do no good against the Stone Eater, but she could at least distract the other enemies, the hulking figures that came crashing down upon the group in waves. They were fierce, strong, but she kept to their heels and running fast. She fought sloppily, but with more precision than it seemed. If one were to view the spectacle, Ruby would appear like a drunk throwing herself through the battlefield, each missed swipe of a sword misinterpreted as mere strokes of luck.
She swung past the swordswoman Liu, her curved sword nearly crashing down on Ruby’s back. Ruby dodged well, slashing quickly with her sword but not waiting to see if the hit landed. She circled the other woman, also fast but still covered in armor. Ruby took the hat off her head and used it as a quick shield, Liu’s sword slashing through with ease. Ruby kept hold of the edges of the hat to use her momentum to sway Liu ever slightly, just enough to give Ruby a pass to stab at the woman’s face, just barely missing the woman’s cheek.
Liu’s attack became more fierce, lashing out quickly, making Ruby back up with little steps until she found herself knocking into another body—
Krell, the man who’d just crossed the bridge. Ruby had just enough time to give a smile before ducking away, rolling beneath the man’s legs and ending up on the other side. Liu’s momentum was just enough to make the two crash together. Ruby used the opportunity to escape back around, trying to create more distractions for the rest of the group.
He let go of the reins, allowing the black horse to flee while grabbing his twins curved swords as he waved them in front of Fulnar in such a display that wouldn't embarrassed any sword dancer. He hacked, slashed and brought the two back and forth so quickly before him that it looked like Qadir could have actually cut the air before him.
Fulnar roared and his tanned skin adversary just bowed his head deeply, raising the swords along with his muscular arms over his head and bent his knees softly. He rubbed his huge lips together before using his stance and position to jump.
Fulnar was ready. His axe was already before him, the hilt used to block the crazy hitting of the two swords that pounded over the wood few times before Qadir took some distance apart. Fulnar tried to push him away with his legs but missed. Instead he pulled his axe and used the head to hit Qadir in the ribs. The damage wasn't too bad but Fulnar was a brute and it did pushed the warrior away, making him stumble and lose one of his swords in the process.
Fulnar charged but Qadir was ready, fixing a new stance in which he brought his naked arm forward and drawing the other sword backward. The axe was heaved over him, but Qadir was quick, keeping his arm ahead and turning half way for the other direction as the sword was shoved right into the arms of Fulnar.
Both warriors drew some distance away, Qadir keeping his eyes on Fulnar, not daring to move forward and grab his other sword just yet.
***
The demoness shone, but the stone missiles coming for their direction took them by a surprise. It forced Nathaniel to stop his chanting, and he bent under the weight of the huge unused energy aura that hit him the moment his spell was so brutally disturbed.
Azaria's new aura lasted long enough to hold the first wave of shots, before she collapsed as well.
"Cast it... again...", she hissed, trying to get back to her feet.
Nathaniel groaned with pain as he held the hand with the ring, "Rrr", he bite his lips. The pain was too terrible and he was barely capable of moving.
That was the price to pay for dealing with magic without being full blooded magi.
He cursed.
He felt the humiliation eating at his pride and he tried with all his might to get back on his feet and summon the spell again.
Stone Eater
With a flare of magic his stone shards had been stopped by the opposing demon. In her mortal form she was weakened, the magic gone. It would take some time before she was prepared once more. All it needed to do was destroy the humans.
Something sharp jabbed a second time into his back, the demon roared and turned catching Thramor before the old warrior could escape. The Stone Eaters eyes flared white seizing the man for a moment.
Thramor was brutally thrown off his feat with the demon's fist and lay on the earth unmoving.
The demon turned back to Bren, more ready to fight the seasoned warrior.
~~~
Morcal
Morcal faced the large man unarmed, but before they could begin Ruby had caused the swords woman to crash into his target. He didn't really allow the pair to disentangle themselves, forcing Liu away in the direction of Neah and Ruby.
That small pause allowed Krell time to attack, bringing his heavy sword down upon Morcal's exposed body. He moved quick to evade but the blade still managed to cut through his shirt, and tear his chest.
In retaliation Morcal slammed his hand down upon Robin's arrow in the man's shoulder. Krell growled as the arrow was twisted deeper, and the pair struggled against one another. Krell managed to twist himself to one side, allowing him to slam his heavy shield into Morcal.
They broke apart as Morcal stumbled a few steps toward the chasm. The fall was great, he saw, and side stepped away glaring at his enemy.
Charging once more, Morcal ducked inside a cleaving swipe only to meet the sturdy defense of the shield. He staggered backward once more.
Hissing at Krell, Morcal attacked once more.
~~~
Ferrik
Bars held the pair in waiting, their eyes closes listening to the engagements above. His hand touched the lock holding them inside, the pair had been starved on the journey and anything could happen once they were freed. The key unlocked them and the gate swung open.
It took a second for the first Shriek to emerge, howling something from its mouth. It flew out the enclosed cart landing several meters away before rushing up the hillside with hunger forcing it onward.
The other was to be a few moments behind but Ferrik's arm barred it's passage. The Shriek ground it's teeth and snarled, "human..."
"Wait," commented Ferrik calmly, listening as the other demon howled up the hill. "The other one will weaken then first, before you emerge."
It gave him murderous eyes edging closer toward the bars.
"Perhaps, they will be weakened in turn.... perhaps there will be more for someone to feed upon later." He said this lazily but the demon seemed to think about it for a moment, before giving a devilish smile.
It only took a minute before the second Shriek began to get edgy and frustrated inside its confines. Ferrik called it out and they began toward the hill, less eager then the first demon.
It didn't noticed Ferrik stop. It didn't scream in pain as steel severed its head from its shoulders, just fell.
Ferrik re-sheathed the weapon as Ebb emerged at his side, she gave the demon a single glance and commented, "the other one?"
"Will have to be taken out my Robin's crew. Couldn't fight both of them, didn't want to fight that one." He said sadly.
"And who is next?" asked Ebb quietly.
"Ilithyia, only one that matters really. Krell and Fulnar will fight until they die. The others should understand. Ebb, find that Robby and drag him out of all this."
It didn't show how much the tasked disturbed Ferrik, conspiring to kill the members of the group he lead. But it made him deeply tired and numb as he walked up the hillside. But, he knew he couldn't have turned away, some of these people were immensely loyal to Harwick. Like he had been.
Somehow, he also needed to get a message to Robin and not die in the process.
Extraordinaire.
03-19-2012, 04:19 PM
"Nerozumím!" the girl threw her hands up, asking the toned down version of what the hell was going on. Peter was supposed to work beside her, through their truce, but had been so bold to run head on into the demon and without a single hit to the stone-built flesh, he was discarded like a rag doll. The demon hadn't so much as swatted at him and yet his body had been upturned into the air, before gravity did its weighty toll.Celeste cringed as she watched him hit the ground and without hesitation, went to retrieve her friend's careless body.
One of the older members of the crew mirrored the attack as he went head on, his dingy blade probably causing no more hard than a razor blade. The aging man opposed no threat to the stone eater and in return, was neglected as another ancient creature entered their charade. The demoness was fiery, disguising herself in a new skin and although Celeste couldn't determine if she was there by convenience or not, she was still relieved by the minor distraction.
"What the hell were you thinking? We're supposed to work together, not use ourselves as bate!" she hissed, as the stone demon moaned out a gritty-vocalized prayer. Shards of earth were lifted into the air at his whim and pelted at the new force of power, who fully defended the attack with just a spark of her power.
Ducking as the stone-skin roared, the demon made contact with his fist, a force that not even Morcal would take lightly. The demon started at Bren, giving Celeste a few moments to sort her thoughts and check up on the battle that carried on the other side of the bridge.
"I- I don't know what these will do," she broke off, unlatching a few of the needles and opening her hands to her friend, "but they provoke a hell of a reaction in humans. Everyone reacts differently and one wouldn't do much damage, but if I could get a few in him, I'm hoping that it would slow him down enough to let the others finish him off."
"But how do I do it?" she asked almost panicky, knowing that she couldn't rely on the others to slow him down or distract him, before she could attack. "If I run head on, I'm turned to stone or beaten senseless.... And what is that thing?" she asked, glancing back at their new acquaintance.
Peter
"What the hell were you thinking? We're supposed to work together, not use ourselves as bate!" Celeste hissed.
"Well, I thought I'd try distracting it. Guess that didn't work out too well," mumbled Peter as she was helping him up. He sat there with his head muddled from his careless charge. He didn't trust himself to stand up quite yet.
He sat there watching as Bren and the demon fought in the Hill's centre. While the man seemed to be able to hold his own and land strike after strike, the demon kept managing to get back up without looking any more tired. Peter looked over at Thramor, but that man didn't seem to be moving at all.
Celeste handed him some things, explaining a quick plan. Peter didn't know how he could get close since his last attempt was a failure. The demon was moving about too much, it needed to be stunned, or caught in it's power again. Jab him with the things, then hope someone else finishes the demon off. Celeste seemed to have the same thoughts as he, neither could get close.
".... And what is that thing?" she asked.
"Some Witch or something? She's that weird one hanging about with that Nath guy. If only she would do that shining thing again... or whatever she was up to."
Kiall
03-24-2012, 12:53 AM
Everything seemed to happen in a blur, the great wall of dirt separating Bren from his foe, the woman now burning with magical fire, now Thramor had fallen thrown off his feet by the demons fist. Bren stood alone between the Stoneater and the still recovering woman. He grinned though it was less like a grin and more like baring his fangs, his cold eyes never left the creature his gaze promising only death as he swung his axe down creating a line across the sand. The message was as clear as if he had spoken it himself, you will not pass this point. “Come on then Beastie!” he spat readying his axe. “I’ve been waitin to take another swing at ya.”
The Demon growled at the man's taunt, turning about after disposing of one of the other distractions. It still felt the stings of the axe on his arms and chest, nothing life threatening yet but still annoying. It angered the Demon that this warrior could fight with such speed despite his size.
It lunged across the dirt, sending small dust clouds up. It aimed a fist, intent on crushing Bren's head inward.
Bren had prepared for it to charge, and swung his axe as the demon bared down on him. The blade catching the creature at the waist, its fist mere inches from Bren’s face. The force of the blow knocked the demon off balance sending it to the ground. With a roar Bren pulled his axe up high ready to bring it down and chop off the demon’s head.
The demon rolled as it was knocked aside, catching the ground with both heavy arms. Earth seemed to explode from underneath the demon with the use of one of its Stone Arts. Soil soared out from under neath the Stone Eater in all directions, showing those around. A hazy cloud of dust arose around the demon as it prepared to rise.
Bren coughed from the shower of dirt, his eyes instantly closing to keep the dust out. His axe rose as he tried to focus his ears on any sound the demon would make. “No fair using your little trickery, lad” he growled, his eyes squinting trying to see. “Or are you really afraid that I might kill you this day?”
"I grew tired of looking upon your ugly old face," mocked the demon from within his dust cloud. A moment later, it threw a small stone toward the warrior, before jumping out itself. It growled charging down Bren again.
Bren grunted the stone hitting him squarely on the forehead disorienting him especially when he had his eyes close. He could not prepare for the charge and so felt the stoneater strike him with all the force of a mallet hurling him to the ground, his falling away as he lost his grip. As his hand landed in the dirt he felt the sharp metal point of Thramor’s broken off spear and instinctively grabbed it.
He knew he was in trouble, it would only take a fraction of a second for the beast to break his skull and there was no effective place he could stab the spear…unless. Roaring he placed one hand behind the monsters skull and slammed the hand holding the spear point into the monster’s open mouth. His arm sank into it the point stabbing into the back of the creatures throat. “Your skin might be able to stop an axe,” he barked his arms taunt as he pushed down on the creatures skull digging the spear deeper, as if his very life depended on the success of his attack, which it did. “But how do your insides Fare!?” He roared.
The demon recoiled away screaming in pain, it swiped hurriedly at Bren trying to swat away his arms. It staggered back, hissing and crying out, thick heavy blood was pouring freely from its mouth. It pawed at its mouth trying to pull free the spear head, but the blade was in deep.
Morcal avoided a new swipe to his face throwing himself to the ground. He heaved himself up and away. Numerous cuts and grazes marked his arms and chest, near misses that had almost ended his life several times. Desperate attempts had brought Morcal nothing but pain. His brutal strength was doing nothing against the big Krell.
Frustrated, he swung hastily, and Krell crack his head in with the shield. As Morcal fell backward he heard his opponent laughing.
He staggered into the path of Qadir and Fulnar, beside a fallen sword on the hillside.
Qadir noticed Morcal, hinting with his hand to get his sword, before he was taking by a surprise as Fulnar shoved the axe right into his face. He flinched back, took a blow with one of his twin swords and draw quickly backward, hoping that Morcal will get him the other sword.
Morcal looked at the sword that the man had gestured too laying nearby, the man seemed rather urgent about it all. "What is it?" He growled, bending low to lift the weapon.
Krell was upon him once more, then, a hurried smash at Morcal's prone form. Hurriedly he lifted the sword to catch the meaty blade above his head. He flinched underneath Krell's strength.
Qadir narrowed his eyes with frustration and took a hit because he didn't notice Fulnar, sending him flying to the other side. He barely get up but when his eyes caught with Morcal again, he gestured for his sword once again while dodging a fatal blow from the axe landing right to where his chest was in the nick of a time.
"Bloody hell, mute!" Hissed Morcal, now understanding the man's need for the other sword. "One, minute, trying, not to die.." He grunted.
Snarling Morcal forced himself upward, breaking Krell's hold on him. Krell was surprised, and he fell back a step. But Morcal descended upon him, both hands on the sword, he crushed it into Krell's shield sending splinters away at the force. Krell seemed shaken.
"Here," called Morcal, throwing the blade lowly toward Qadir attempting not to cut the man as the sword flew through air.
Krell had recovered somewhat and shakily attacked. Morcal's fist connected with the man's eye.
Qadir bent his legs and send himself flying with a spin, right above Fulnar and catching the sword in his hand. Once the two were grabbed together he crossed them, leading on both feet like a cat, his back facing Fulnar.
Qadir slowly turned around, a playful grin over his lips, which gave him the appearance of a demon. He waved his twin swords like mad, this time with more speed which took Fulnar by some surprise. He waved his axe too, but the heavy weapon was no match to the quickness of Qadir's hands swinging and the lighter swords. After twisting them enough time Qadir shoot them as if they were throwing daggers and masterfully hit them both in Fulnar chest.
The last, more surprise by the attack than the fact he was bleeding, dropped the axe trying to pull them apart, but they were perfectly seized by the skin and muscles of his body. Eyes widen he looked at Qadir and realized that the guy had just used his own body against him, and before he could have done anything else the last was already dashing for him, hitting his legs terribly upon his face, sending him flying away. Qadir now marched over him, bending to place his hands over the hilts of his sword and drawing them out by masterfully cutting big X over Fulnar chest, deeper and deeper into him.
When the swords were finally out they were covered with blood and Fulnar was bleeding to death.
He shouted a vicious cry stomping down into Krell's thigh, he heard something crack and then Krell swore. Limping backward Krell swiped at Morcal, frustrated but brutally he attacked still.
Morcal smashed himself into Krell, beating his hands at the wounded shoulder. Savagely they wrestled, both grunting and trying to throw the other side. Somehow Krell got his knee into Morcal but it didn't dislodge him. Retaliating Morcal crushed Krell's nose with his head, he heard it break.
They tore apart and eyed each other. Morcal moved first, rushing in, he fist taking Krell in the chest. With a cry the man fell backward.
Down into the crevasse.
Breathing heavily Morcal turned to see who he could fight next, only to pause at the bridge. One of the Shriek demon's had arrived, howling wildly as it ran across the bridge.
"Demon!" He shouted at Qadir.
[Part 2 coming soon...]
Extraordinaire.
03-25-2012, 04:11 AM
"Some Witch or something? She's that weird one hanging about with that Nath guy. If only she would do that shining thing again... or whatever she was up to."
"But why is she on our side?" Celeste gave him a doubtful look, wondering what Robin had done to pay her off. Surely a pocket full of coins wasn't in comparison to what he owed the rest of the crew, not even the crew as a whole! They seemed to be holding up fairly well and had showed potential throughout the quest, but having an ancient power as an alley, was an unthinkable favor.
Celeste watched as the aging man continued his lonely attack, spewing witty self-righteous comments, in a very hero-esque manner. Celeste's lip twitched in irritation, before watching a spear penetrated the demon's forehead. Not enough to tear the brain, perhaps but the monster's frothy swats and cries had shown the length of the damage.
"It's going to start charging," Celeste's lips barely moved, recoiling before glancing at Peter, as if recognizing him for the first time.
"I don't think we can take our chances with luck anymore. You still have your axe, right? Try to use it as a distance-weapon. Throw it at it to get its attention, if you have to," Celeste was practically hopping on her feet as she rushed to explain this all to him, constantly looking over her shoulder as if the demon were waiting behind her. Granted that the blade in his head hadn't already done the damage.
"Just try not to die. Please," she smiled weakly, checking once more that he had a few of her little darts.
"Alright, I'll try," Peter replied climbing to his feet behind her. He watched as the demon stumbled about in pain. "Which way did you want me to go?"
He hobbled around on his feet feeling the strength from the demon's earlier attack still. Peter was prepared to follow her in whatever direction they took. He grabbed his ax in one hand, and her darts in the other.
"Branch right," she said dismissively, although she didn't want to take personal responsibility for however this turned out, in his sake.
Sliding the flat-side of her blade against her crouched knee, she tried to figure what damage she could do, without using up her darts quite yet. She wished she had more advice to give him other than the slim chance that throwing his axe might do some damage, but he was already wounded and it was hard enough to navigate through the terrain. The marshy land seemed to only be getting thicker and there was already muck up to her ankles, not that the drizzle was much contribution.
Dipping her three fingers into the mud, she smeared her leg, which was almost instantly concealed by a thick, runny brown. Grabbing a handful she completely covered what was left of her tattered shorts, leaning over and soaking her whole arm in the goo, which emerged was even hard to decipher from the ground.
"How fond are you of camouflage?" she smiled whole-heartedly, further explaining to him how if they got close enough to the ground covered in the stuff and the over-cast weather, they could actually have a shot at getting close to the stone eater. And if they missed, then they could easily tuck and roll and sick into the mud, unarmed, as long as they weren't stepped on.
"I'm already dirty enough," Peter replied with a grin. "Okay, I'll rush right and hopefully distract him enough for you. Or try to get in close myself to use those things." He said so more to himself than to her, afterward he nodded.
He eyed the demon, and crouched low. It's focus was still on the blade in its mouth but he still tried to sneak in as quietly as possible. Peter had his axe ready to strike with or throw. But he waited until Celeste had begun to move close before throwing.
The axe hit the demon in the back, then bounced away. The bladed edge snapped free and went spinning away down the hill. Peter hadn't ever down something like that before but he was pretty sure that wasn't meant to happen. He yelped as the demon began to turn to face its latest annoyance.
Some part of Celeste found herself able to relax, knowing that disguising herself was well into her comfort zone. Flipping herself over in the mud, she covered up to her eyelids in the thick slosh and when she laid down, she was hardly recognizable as long as her eyes were closed.
Part of her heart sank as she watched the axe, a perfect shot, rebound off the rough pelt and unhinge itself, but how pitiful it all seemed made her crack a smile.
"I guess Robin was right about his choice of weapons," she thought to herself, darting across the land, following by triumphant sloshes from her feet.
The creature's back was turned to her, which gave her some advantage, but it also limited her time before pulling a more mediocre King Midas act. She had planned on playing mouse and cat with the demon, but felt another surge of anxiety as somebody announced the arrival of the screecher from before.
Running up to the stone eater's back, she lodged her dagger, handle complete, into a wound that had already been inflicted, further separating the cracked skin. But perhaps the move had been too bold, as the beast managed to swoop at her before even turning to acknowledge her.
She was sent a few yards back and smacked into the mud on her back, letting the sting tingle as she sunk deeper into the mud. Her chin was pressed against her collarbone as she tried to get a glimpse of whether it was following her or not, but since she was already emerged under the surface of mud, it let out a moan of annoyance.
Her breath came in little wisps as she tried to recover from the hit, her lungs sore as she brought herself to sit. The cut in the back reminded her more of deepening a splinter than a step, but there was a rough cut visible.
"The back!" she called out abruptly, as the demon turned out once again, finally making out a shape of where she might be.
"Aim for the back!" she called out again, hoping that he'd catch onto her scrambled panicky words, knowing that she meant for him to use the darts.
Peter growled as she was hit away, and rushed inward listening to her calls. He flung himself at the demon and caught himself by wrapping a hand around it's shoulder. It stumbled for a moment attention returned to the young man, it shook trying to dislodge him.
The darts he struggled with, drop from his hand before snatching the others together. The open wound in the think skin was just before him. The swaying kept him from attacking.
Angrily he thrust the darts into the wound. Growling the demon flicked him away back to the dirt.
"He didn't make it," Celeste breathed to herself, initially assuming the worst. The creature swatted him off, a greater loss of energy than it sounds to the ears, and towered over him. She winced, scooting back as the waited for the stone eater to all but crush her newly-acquainted ally.
She watched the demon raise its arm over its head, but instead of pounding down on Peter it began to swat out infront of itself, fighting with its own imagination.
Hallucinations. Celeste's eye rolled back into her head with relief, as the demon stumbled around, moaning in what would only be temporary confusion, considering the dosage per size.
"Peter?" she asked, standing up with shaky legs as she fumbled through the mud, trying to circle around the demon to get to him.
Underestimating how impaired it was, Celeste made a b-line for the boy who had just gotten hit second pounding, before the demon unsteadily charged at her. Quickly cutting to her left, the creature became disoriented and stumbled forward, roughly skidding on its shoulder. Its arm had just merely brushed her in the downfall, but the impact was enough to send her body in an unwilled tumbled, looking like a look barrel rolling across the mud.
Face-down in the marsh, she lifted her head and gasped for air, brushing her caked hair out of her eyes. Finally registering the pain in her left left arm, she inspected the clean cut before figuring she must have rolled over the loose axe-head in her fall. Practically crawling over to Peter, she used her soaked shirt to try to wipe the majority of the mud away, before laughing.
"You okay?" she asked with a sense of pride, glancing over at Bren, inviting him to take the kill.
Wattz
03-27-2012, 07:18 AM
"I've always questioned if you had a mind of your own," Ferrik said standing over the body of the mage, "but he's gone insane, and you still follow blindly."
It took the woman some time to reply, tired from her magic or in pain Ferrik couldn't tell, "he won't be kind once he hears of your betrayal."
"He has never been." Rather then draw out the conversation, he did what was needed and thrust his sword into her chest.
Ferrik found Iula up a little bit, an arrow in his leg. He knelt beside the warrior and placed a hand on his shoulder, "wait here old friend, she'll come for you in a moment and take you back to the cart."
By then Ebb had found Robby, Ferrik indicated for her to help the warrior as well. He sighed when he saw Ebb lift the young man into her arms. Somehow Robby had managed to knock himself out before even reaching the bridge.
~~
Ferrik crossed the bridge a little bit after the Shriek had begun to fight Morcal and Qadir. He surveyed the battle before him and found the person he wanted to speak to, smiling he rubbed his wounded nose.
"Liu, fight that man, I've got this one," he ordered to swords woman, pointing out Neah. Smiling he turned to Ruby, "Still wearing that nice hat."
Ruby showed the hole in the top of it made by Liu's sword. "Not so nice anymore," she said quickly as she readied her rapier, looking up at Ferrik. "I require compensation for the damage, of course. It's only fair."
"You tell the minions one thing... not to mess with the hat and then what do they do!" grumbled Ferrik as he reached for his coin pouch. He tossed it over to the woman, "here, I hope this is satisfactory."
He drew out his sword, it seemed fair as she had her rapier ready. He rubbed his nose again, it itched in her presence. "Would you care to deliver a message to Robin for me? I'd do so myself but I fear of being shot full of arrows."
"Such a gentleman!" she said with a bit of surprise as she caught the pouch, never taking her eyes off Ferrik and being careful to not stop moving. "And even in the heat of battle, my my. Oh, don't fear good sir Robin, I'm sure he'd be willing to... er... have a little chat with you."
"A chat with me as he digs my grave?" Ferrik smiled.
"No, no, I'd rather deal with you." He circled about as she did, his eyes flickered from her to the battle with the demon. He wasn't intending to stick about once that fell, he'd rather not have to fight anymore. "It's a simple message, really, won't take you much to deliver. All he needs to know, that I will help him after he returns to Hometown."
"Now now Ferrik, now's not the time to be cryptic," Ruby said, far too suspicious. What reason would Ferrik have for wanting to help Robin at all? "What do you really want?"
He gritted his teeth in annoyance, he had little desire to explain. But he smiled, "I want to sleep easy at night. Working for one who conspires with demons has grown difficult, he's a madman wanting power, he has no trouble using anyone. I want to stop him."
"I imagined a more... creative response," Ruby said sarcastically. "The world is filled with madmen like Harwick. Might as well take them all out, get the job done."
"Yes, well, I had a hand in helping this insanity arise." Ferrik replied grimly, more urgently he said, "will you deliver that to him now?"
"I suppose it would do no harm," Ruby said with a light shrug. "My, how strange this journey has turned out to be." This last part she muttered to herself more than to Ferrik. She felt as if the world were turning on its head, a mess of odd coincidences and affiliations.
Ferrik saluted her with his sword, "thank you, and with that I shall depart." He said taking several steps backward, away toward the stone bridge. "I look forward to meeting you once more."
He called out to Liu, indicating their retreat.
"... What?" Ruby's stance dropped in an instant, though it was unwise to have done as such. "You're already retreating?!" Ruby yelled after them. "A whole lot of good that was!" But they were already leaving, and though Ruby was swift and fast, their legs were far longer, and they were already quite far off, leaving the small woman grumbling.
Sit down. ENJOY THE SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEEy67VdaQA)
A terrifying scream announced its arrival, a maddening sound that could turn people insane. Morcal, himself found the noise intolerable and gritted his teeth together in a snarl.
The noise didn't last long but the large man felt a head ache pounding in his head. Luckily for him the demon was focused on his companion.
The demon bounded up to Qadir, rushing across the hillside. It held no weapon but its own fists and snapping jaw. Hallow eyes peered at the mute man without blinking, it thrust an open palm toward the man's face desiring to tear open Qadir. It was fearless, steel was nothing to be afraid of.
The screeching and roaring were terrible. In some sense it was rather ironic that the demon sending to fight a mute guy was so loudsome.
Qadir fell down, his sword already trusted upward, capable of sealing the teeth from closing on him, but just barely. If he could, voices of grunting and anger would escape his lips, but instead he used his swords to push his body and spin backward and far away, landing on his back as the demon closed his massive jaws.
He got up and panted, looking at Morcal for some advice on how to handle it.
Morcal had snuck about behind the demon and gestured Qadir to use the sword. One hand gripped the long hair of the demon pulling it away before it could claw after its target again. And his foot came down the back off one knee.
Despite screaming and hissing the Shriek managed to twist about and swipe at Morcal's chest. Sharpened snails tore away his clothing and into his skin. It's head snapped at Morcal, trying to bit away at something. The warrior tried to push himself free but was caught. The Shriek might not have the same strength as other demons but they still had more brute strength then most humans.
But strength or not, Qadir still felt he had to try some power of his own. And so, without real tactic, he simply stabbed back and forth his blades into the THING, blood turning to stain his face and clothing, but he appeared to be mad as he continued and slashed into the demon as his swords piercing into it.
At first it was hard to leave much mark, but going for the most vital areas such as necks and limbs he was able to almost tore it apart with his wild swinging.
The demon tried to turn backward, but Morcal reversed his attacks and stuff close to the creature. He clung hazardly to it, keeping it from turning about. It slashed and screamed at him until Morcal thought the maddening struggle would never end. He was covered in gore by the time he could hear once more.
A soft whimpering came to his ears, his hands still held the demon's body from falling. One arm was completely gone, the other hanging limply. It's neck, sliced from both sides held together with the smallest flesh but still the Shriek lived.
The demon looked younger now, its eyes pleading at him and despite the darkness within those orbs Morcal felt himself giving in. It's mouth hung open, teeth covered in its own sickly red blood which dripped to the dirt. Sharp teeth seemed to rattle and shiver, urging him to help the creature. Morcal blinked, everything was bizarre, out of place. He dropped the heavily wounded demon and backed away.
Surprised Qadir looked at Morcal, panting without voice and a closed mouth as he throw at him a dark confused and angry gaze, but, going against Morcal seemed out of the question. He let go and turned to stand by his side, however, his expression was left unchanged. His hands shivered over the hilts of the twin swords, his eyes questioning what he could never utter out loud.
Why?
Why was he letting go of that imp that tried few minutes ago to kill them both...
Morcal could barely focus on Qadir, his vision maddening, swirling about. Unfocused, he caught the question in the man's eyes.
"Just kill it!" He snarled backing away more.
Qadir didn't asked more.
And just hit the final blow.
Kiall
04-02-2012, 08:07 PM
Bren couldn’t believe his ploy had worked! Gouts of blood poured from the demon’s mouth, the creature stumbling away from him. He grunted standing up, searching for his axe. He scrambled for the thing as the others fought off the creature. He picked it back up heaving the bladed edge out of the ground where it had. Bren grinned back at Celeste seeing the demon stumbling disoriented before charging again ready to kill the poisoned beast.
Across him, to the plea of the demoness , Nathaniel tried his best to get up, but not without a price. He kept being shoved downward by the might of the ring and energy that she tried so desperately to take back into her. It was bad. One wrong move and she could actually break free.
Again he started to enchant, blood running from the finger under the ring and his eyes were turning crimson too along with great headache. He was crouching, but tried his best to keep his hands steady to summon up her power.
And Azaria started to glow. So satisfied with this boost of power that she licked her lips as she removed her hood and robes. Her hair, black and silky was beginning to glow with untold power and might as it grew longer and longer before it was cast over her head like wild snakes in mid air. Her form was losing color and she turned into some 3D void of darkness, yet something was glowing within.
Fire, living fire was storming inside her transparent, black chrysalis like body. And Nathaniel continued to chant, his eyes closes, unable to look around him lest the spell break. He continued with his words, urging up power and might into her as the fire of life grew stronger, and once it was, she herself began to hover a bit off the ground.
Bren struck at the beast a killing blow still eluding him as his axe mostly bounced off the thick hide of the creature. His eyes caught the flicker of something and he turned his head eyes widening at what he saw. The woman was hover wreathed in flame, her body seemed to have gone completely see through. He stood in awe of the creature, uncertain of what it meant, what was she?
Was she even still human? Suddenly he felt a hard blow on his chest as the demon wobbly struck him, sending him flying towards the fiery woman knocking him to the ground. He coughed the wind completely knocked out of him as he looked up at the hovering woman. “I don’t suppose you have a plan to kill that thing do ya?” He asked stumbling back up glancing at the strange man and the fire woman.
The woman hissed and without even answering Bren or giving him a second thought she just dashed in mid air like burning storm onward.
Nathaniel crouched down, his hands bleeding, before it was dropped down, and soon after he was lying himself, unable to support his body. Blood was running through his nose and ears and he gasped and moaned like crazy.
At the other side of the field Azaria was attacking the stone demon, turning her body into flames and circling it, wishing to absorb him whole, and she burned him more and more and more, until Nathaniel forced the ring out of his hand.
the demoness fall, once again in her human form, yet naked, twisted and gasping like fish outside water, but the spell no longer took a tool over Nathaniel body as he slowly panted for him and tried to sit down.
Nothing was left of the demon but the woman seemed in pain.
Bren picked himself growling as he followed the woman though at a slower pace, his axe ready. Huge columns of flames began to erupt around the woman and demon. Bren had to squint his eyes and he felt the heat on his face, then it stopped. He blinked staring, the stoneater was gone, consumed entirely by the flames or so he assumed. The woman was no longer burning but was writhing on the ground naked.
Shit if he recalled Robin had wanted the creature whole, no use worrying about it now, especially since there was still a battle to be fought. Rushing over he hauled the woman up throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He looked at Peter and Celestia, shit neither of them looked good. Peter he assumed was passed out and Celestia was injured, he was the only one still standing and they were out in the open and vulnerable.
He ran towards Nathaniel who at least was sitting, “can ya stand?” he asked, holding his hand out to haul him up. “Help me get the others out of here, or at the very least do something about your woman here, there’s still a battle being fought and we’re exposed.”
Nathaniel coughed as he grabbed Bren's hand and got up, still, unsteady and not fully well, "Yes, give her to me".
Bren landed the naked frame of the beautiful woman before him and Nathaniel looked down at her with cold disgust expression. He removed one of his robes and used it to flip it over her body to cover her as he looked down and caress her cheeks, "Tried to consume me, didn't you?", he said as a dark grin formed upon his lips, he bent down and whispered into her ear, "Next time... I will do the feeding.... dear...", he picked her up, "Let's go", he said to Bren with cold unchanged expression
The battle below was done; the demon was dead and their enemies retreating as quickly as they'd come. And above the flashes of light, and the screams and shouts had ceased. All was done.
Robin, tired and angered by the betrayal of Selena, clutched his wounded side climbed back up to the top of Swanheart Hill. He'd collect his bow later.
"If you don't mind, could you find the bandages in the wagon?" He asked Victoria, surely he was not the only one injured from all the fighting. "I shall be up in a bit."
Releasing the man, she nodded hesitantly, not truly wanting to leave him on his own. The red smeared across his side still drew her eye, rose bile to burn through her throat.
“Whatever you need,” she murmured. Her own dress had been spotted with blood; his, not her own, an ode to the amount he must have lost.
The ground felt dishevelled beneath her, stealing her balance as exhaustion settled in. She traipsed back towards the cart with little emotion to guide her, only Robin’s request forcing her feet to move.
Emerging to the hill crest Robin surveyed the scene. Celeste was helping the young Peter up, both were covered in dirt and muck completely. Bren was standing, the old warrior looked like he'd fought hard. Beside him was Nathaniel, his face bloodied and looking tired from some struggle, in the man's arms was a naked woman. Robin assumed she was the same one that was with them earlier, he didn't care to know why her clothing was gone. In the centre of them all was a blackened patch in the soil.
There was no demon to be seen. Whether fled, or destroyed, Robin supposed he'd find out later. But it no longer mattered.
"Marian." Robin whispered, feeling his legs shaking beneath him.
There was no time for second tries, another demon to fight, no, they wouldn't make it back in time. And looking at his party, perhaps they wouldn't survive another encounter. No, it was over.
Hollow, blinded, he stumbled toward the cart, he fell into it, held it to him. Clutching himself to the wood, he held himself upward and stared off down the hill.
“Robin?” Victoria asked anxiously as he swept by her, unseeing. She had no idea what had happened on top the hill, oblivious to his pain. “Robin, what’s wrong?”
"She's going to die soon," his whispered, energy sapped completely, he didn't turn toward her. "Couldn't stop it."
“Oh…” she whispered, moving closer to the man but not daring to touch him, “I’m… so sorry.”
Robin gave a brief nod, acknowledging her words but didn't reply. He looked aside.
She felt a pit of sadness and awkward tension mulling in her gut, her hands stroking her stomach in absent unease. “We should hurry back. We can make it in time to say goodbye…”
To speak to her once more, to hold her while there was still life, to kiss her one last time. Robin choked on his sob as he said, "aye."
~~~
Peter
"I'm okay," Peter replied, sitting up. Sure his body was aching from when the demon had swatted him about several times. But at least they were still alive. He watched as the fire lady consumed the demon, until there was nothing left.
"What was that...." he muttered.
Slowly he realised the battle was done. "Celeste, we won," he wrapped his arms around her in an awkward hug.
But there was something wrong, he saw, over her shoulder the body of one of their company. "Thramor," he cried out. Peter rushed over to the old man. He'd been attacking the demon last Peter had known.
But now, he was cold, some of his body stone. Dead. Sadly, he said, "he's gone."
~~~
Morcal
Madness, all around. He lay on the ground clutching his head. The voices called to him, asking him questions he couldn't answer. And when he didn't, the screaming began. Terrible, terrible, terrible screaming.
Always, forever more.
Morcal was standing once more. Looming over the body of his tormentor. On the ground, it smiled at him, laughed at him, spoke to him. Its eyes rolled about excitedly, Morcal lifted the demon to him, shaking it as it were still alive. Trying to shut it up.
But instead he heard more screaming with each movement.
Suddenly he was over the crevasse. Below he saw Krell, the man he killed, clawing his way to the surface. Angrily, Morcal lifted the demon's body above his head and threw it at Krell.
Morcal eyed the dark hole once more, satisfied, for the moment.
Extraordinaire.
04-12-2012, 08:25 PM
"We won," Celeste echoed, expecting for her soul to detach from the delusional shell, to free herself from the dream-like state and be thrown back into reality. But despite her lightheaded dizziness, she was still stuck in the marsh, and she had to recognize that she would have her own personal life to return to after all of this. And yet, for one act of selfish revenge, she was about to make herself a target of every trader, black market member, dealer, and assassin. Granted, she had already become an artist of disguise to avoid her many run-ins with town-dwellers, but to have people more devious than herself on a hunt for her head, was an inescapable death.
Peter's enthusiasm and hug gave her a moment of distraction, but she knew that it would all be left behind, whether she followed through with her plan or not. He was a good friend, but what could he expect her to do? Run away with her? He was hardly a recognizable face to her and was sure that the feeling was mutual. He was a stranger that had tragically come into contact with her after a series of unfortunate events, but he would walk away as equally a stranger.
She watched as the naive boy ran off, tearing her fingers through her knotted hair, forcing them through the brunette mess until she was sure that they would split from their roots. As he surveyed the corpse, she took off running towards the dryer land. The wind whipped her face, forming creases where the former mud had settled.
The full impact of the scream hit her, just as she passed the bridged land. Covering the most painful ear out of reaction, the intensity of it all seemed to focus on her left ear. The sound nearly split through her skull itself, stabbing at her senses until even her nose throbbed with an unworldly pain. The scream paralyzed you in temporary fear, disorienting and personally attacking the weakest few. Desperate to get away, her feet skidded and she hurled herself up in a few failed attempts to get away. The effect was no less threatening, but an extreme relief washed over her as the screaming stopped, the hero remaining unseen.
Right ear throbbing, she fumbled with the left one, which she hoped was just numbed with pain. There was no response, however, and the ringing in her ears seemed to overwhelm all other sounds. As she finally dragged herself out of view from the warriors, the confusion of offbalance began to settle. Noises intensified in her right ear, as she had all but missed a hissing crow to her left. She spun her head around rapidly, trying to make up for the lost sense, becoming over aware and jerking at the slightest scuttle of leaves. She waited for the ringing to die down and for the pulse in her vision to settle, before continuing to pursue her quest.
Circling around the elevated land, she danced across towards the cart on silent tiptoes. The mud wasn't her surface of preference, but it she took careful steps she could remain soundless.
As voices came into ear shot, she let her instincts and better judgement take control. With a direct focus on the pair she crouched behind athe unruly brush, anything not within a ten foot radius, of little relevance to her. Sinking lower to be ground, she fit her body into a secure stance, keeping to her hunched pounce.
Her marker's voice rung out words of encouragement in her thoughts, knowing that even with the delayed accomplishment, she'd be well on her feet for years. but in this case, genuine capability outweighed security. She just needed a blind eye from his accompany, the girl who tended the mule cart.
The ass himself sang a few broken notes in a whined moan, as she shifted the weight of her balance. Giving him a sharp eye, she wondered if she'd have to takeout the donkey just to remain in concealment. But with no further interruptions, she kept a sturdy aim at Robin himself.
It was over.
Damn it all.
With the stone demon in crisps, the mission was deemed unsuccessful. No land, no exclusive privileges... Nothing to be asked from Robin now, Nathaniel knew; Not after his demoness was the reason Robin's wife would not get the right treatment in time.
Curse it all.
Everything was lost.
This whole fucking journey was for nothing aside of damage and death.
Qadir rode in silent for his master direction. Apparently the man was able to retrieve the stallion. Good lad. Loyal beyond words. He did a good job. To his hands Nathaniel delivered the woman, carefully bestowing her to his care, and now that his hands were free Nathaniel stumbled for Robin direction.
He needed to know... What was Robin next move...
Wattz
04-14-2012, 09:45 PM
Ruby sat down on the ground. She saw Morcal standing some distance away, seemingly triumphant, but that was all the attention she paid. Robin was doubled over, clutching his side clearly in pain. No hope, no hope, the entire journey a waste of time, and for nothing. They would leave the wasteland behind, a little bloodier than it had been before. How could she assume otherwise? If all had gone well, perhaps Robin’s face would have been a little brighter.
It was then that Ruby smiled. Such stupid whimsy she held.
Maybe she could have done without holding so dearly onto her name, and simply walked home.
There was more to be done, though. What was it that Ferrik had wanted? Oh yes.
Ruby stood back up and passed Morcal on her way to Robin. She tugged on the side of his tunic and looked up at him.
“Ferrik says he’ll help you once we return to Hometown.”
Kiall
04-15-2012, 10:02 AM
Bren looked curiously at the man Nathaniel as he whispered something to the unconscious woman. A million questions ran through his head, what were they? No sorceress however mighty could have done what she had done, that only left one other possibility. She was a demon, had she made some sort of deal with this man? Or did he control her somehow? The chill he had gotten when he first met Nathaniel ran up his spine. A part of him wanted just kill him, he could do it easily he was weakened and distracted. His instincts were telling him this man was a threat, and he had learned to trust them. However while he had killed many he had never done so in cold blood, his own sense of honor was fighting against his instinct for survival.
But the man left hauling the woman with him and just like that the moment passed. Bren sighed turning when he saw Peter standing over the body of Thramor. He winced only just realizing the man had died. He strode over standing beside Peter and the dead man. “He was a good man,” he said softly placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “He saved me, saved us all. I would have died if it hadn’t been for his spear.” How many comrades had he seen die? How many had it taken before the pain finally dulled? He could still remember the first though, and so would Peter. “Come on,” he said gently pulling the boy away from the corpse, “nothing we can do for the dead lad.” He hoped that this would be the last body the boy would need to see, that he would give up on this foolish dream of being a warrior. Even the life of a farmer was better than this, a farmer brought life for himself and others, a warrior brought only death.
“Come on,” he said gently pulling the boy away from the corpse, “nothing we can do for the dead lad.”
Peter had nodded along to Bren's words, "except burial." His tone was quiet taking him back two years. A memory of shoveling dirt, a shallow grave, atop a green hill. Wind blowing and cloud covered the sky and Peter had been alone. The very axe he'd brought along with him lay in the grass covered in blood. A destroyed cart nearby. Peter had struggled to lower the body into the grave, he'd left the arrows in. Then he'd covered his father and left no marker.
He shook the memory off as they walked back over to the cart where the others had been gathering. Peter now only wanted to return to his family.
Robin felt the tug on his clothing, "Ferrik says he’ll help you once we return to Hometown." He nodded at Ruby's words, and closed his eyes. He wondered why one of his enemies would suddenly start to help him now, he was too tired to think.
"What do we do now?" Peter blurted out to their leader.
So soon he was ripped from his grief, to be in need of being decisive. His voice was without passion as he replied, "We'll return to town, everyone will be paid and then you can go your own way from there."
"Victoria, everyone, prepare to head back." He remembered his wounded side and added, "Bandages are in with the supplies if anyone needs them."
Peter caught Red Hood by the arm, and asked, "and you?"
"I'll say goodbye to my wife." His voice something dark, twisted with hate, "And then I shall kill them all."
~~~
Morcal stood away from them all, the jingle of coins rattling around his mind. He spied the new pouch on Ruby as she passed by. He heard her message, one who had turned against them. One setting up Robin's demise.
But, he was prepared. Ready to kill.
Extraordinaire.
04-17-2012, 08:23 PM
Celeste held her position until the girl who tended the asses had a brief moment from Robin, but as the gap of opportunity opened up, she began to second guessing herself. There was something about the moment, as if Robin and all of his pity were getting into her mind as some unsaid defense, telling her not to kick a man who had suffered past death. His body sagged slightly at his hip, where a cloth had soaked through a feverish red.
She was unaffected by the unavoidable loss of his wife, she had already presumed her as a corpse, but the hopelessness, after they'd exerted so much effort, thoroughly pissed her off. Centering her hate for the fallen demoness around her weapon, she tried to view Robin from a pocher's perspective. A wounded or trapped animal, past the point of survival. Maybe killing him would come as a relief; maybe it would be easier for him, in the end.
But as she sat there contemplating with her stubborn arm that refused to budge, the gap was closed and other's entered the scene. Nathaniel, Ruby, Bren, and eventually Peter found their way to Robin, each holding the same expression. Except for Ruby, but that was nothing unusual.
"Victoria, everyone, prepare to head back," their leader instructed, as Celeste studied him for pre-hysteria symptoms.
The hope of them all separating, of Peter staying after a moment longer to take in the scene of failure, brought a new agression into the brunette. Her darts held no promise: the symptoms varied from person to person, each equally as terrifying, each equally as painful. But with her victim already weakened, not only bloodied and battered but emotionally withdrawn, perhaps a few darts would do him in. Granted, she didn't have but a few darts to spare and one of them was leaking.
And what would her back up plan be? How would she escape? If she did have to kill Robin in front of the other's, how could she outrun Ferrick, or defend herself, unarmed? What if she missed but was suspected and the whole party was on her chase? In their present condition, they might let her go. But to be discovered by such a high-marketed town, would come with severe punishments and Celeste intended to get her full penchant, from this. But maybe she could make out now and go past her assigner's reach... Maybe she could stay refuge in Robin's town a bit, before sorting out her life... Maybe none of this was necessary...
Celeste took a careless step, something she would never do without intention, although the act confused her. Was it her surrender? Was she trying to out herself so that somebody would acknowledge her, before she gave in to the ultimatum? Was she already turning herself in? It wasn't until she'd almost stepped out of the brush, when she saw Morcal, who was mutually hidden. Before she could react though, Robin's voice caught her attention.
"-And then I shall kill them all."
Robin's words hung in the air, adding to the thickness of the dog.
Them all?Red Hood was certain, but who else? Ferrick, Ebb, Krell, or Fulnar? Their whole party? How many of them had been killed off, or more likely, how many had survived? She was foolish for not making them aware of her plans, but an assassins job required little permission or confrontations of other's on her side. Perhaps it was best, what she had done... But the though of a deranged Robin hunting after her lot, something he was possibly capable of, refueled her aggression.
Her reclining stance was now steady, her shoulder withdrawn as the tension of the elasticity of the tripod built up. Her second needle was already half empty and wouldn't be much use to her, she was given one good shot.
A million thoughts, panicked voices and counter-reasonings shot through her head, condensing her judgement, until the anxiety got her better half. Her hands shook under the weight of the pressure as her eyes blurred with frustrated tears. The world seemed timeless to her now, although it hadn't been a moment after Robin's last words. The strings of the tripod vibrated against her fingers as she sunk to the ground, under the cover of the forest's bedding. Her hands rattled against the dirt, shaking clumps of weeds and wildflowers around her, as her ears awaited the outcome of her shot.
Celeste had had a clear shot through the foliage, even with her hands shaking so terribly. But she could have sworn at that last moment, at the final pull of a string, that the tripod shifted ever so slightly, as did her aim.
Peter stiffened and jerked his arm free of Robin, "you'll do what..." he half cried out.
A moment later, he felt something hit his back and he groaned. "What was that.." He said in pain. His body was turning numb, in panic he waved his arms at his back. Peter fell forward.
"Boy," called Robin, catching him before he hit the wasteland earth. "Peter?"
Peter felt himself be lowered to the ground, he tried to mumbled out something but all he could say was, "my... back..." Peter clutched at Robin in panic. Replacing the numbness was a deep pain, he writhed about in Robin's arms.
He wasn't quite sure what happened, but then he saw a dart in their Red Hood's hand and hear him growl, "...the fuck is this."
"No," muttered Peter as the poison continued to work through his body.
Bloody hell
Nathaniel eyed Celeste, his upright posture frozen solid.
Mere inches from being hit himself, he couldn't shake off the feeling he had so foolishly and easily let his guard down.
Many questions stirred within his mind, but one was the most urgent and pending.
"What's the meaning of this?".
Kiall
04-24-2012, 02:51 AM
Bren’s eyes widened when he saw the dart sticking out of Peter’s back. His head turned following the trail the dart would have taken his heartbeat pounding as he went back into survival mode. He saw their would be assassin and charged, his mind barely registering that it was Celestia he was running towards. His long legs ate up the distance between them as he bull rushed her, a loud roar coming from his lips. His plan was to subdue her, or throttle her he wasn’t sure which, he just knew that the only chance they had was if he took away her ability to snipe at them.
Celeste heard Peter mumble nonsense, but her suspicion wasnt confirmed until Nathaniel's voice rung out in the most unpleasant of tones.
Peter, shit! she breathed soundlessly, never intending for Peter to get involved.
"He always manages to get in the way," she thought, regretting it a moment later. That wasn't all he was to her, was he? Just an inconvenience, a bump in the road?
"He was your friend," she reminded herself, although the thought was cut short by another opposing force, one that wasn't just in her head.
She had heard the smacking of boots against mud, the noisy rampage of someone coming for her, but was hoping that her cover would hold. But all too soon, she caught a glimpse of Bren through her forest-floor bedding, before his weight was forced onto her chest, all but deflating her lung. She heard a crunching sound as the half-empty needle gave in under the weight of the man, splintering her revealed back.
Panicked from the inability to breath, she scrambled up, muck and dried dirt flaking off of her skin, as she rushed towards an unplanned escape. When her vision started to deteriorate she finally took a shallow breath, for the searing pain to finally meet the pressure that had been applied to her ribs. A mix between a cry and a moan was bellowed as she found herself mere feet away from the attacker, but now perched a good distance up in a tree.
Bren hadn’t intended to step on her like that; he looked down hearing the snapping of the needle and the girl underfoot as she leaped up and headed into the tree faster than he could reach her. He looked up, he sure as hell wasn’t climbing that. “If you think I’m gonna chase ya up there yer a damn fool!” He barked staring up. It didn’t matter anyway, all he had to do was keep her there until the others came.
“So start talking! Why’d you do it? Who sent you? How much did it take to buy your loyalty? And when?” He looked up at the dirty disheveled girl with an odd pang of pity, “look talk to me and I give you my word I’ll get you out of this alive. Don’t and you’ll have to face Robin alone, and I doubt he’ll be in a forgiving mood.”
It wasn't until her life was put at stake, until Celeste's more savage side broke out. The tree was already on a whim, one firm kick and she'd be flung mercilessly back into the swamp. The other's would be there in seconds, maybe they already were and she just hadn't dedicted them. Over-came by panic and the natural instinct to save her ass, it seemed equally appropriate for her to hiss at the man, as it did for her to fling her feces. Neither which she would ever do, but solely out of pride.
"My assigner, good friends of Red Hood," she gasped, her words rushed and slurred, in an attempt to get it all out in one breath.
She was hunched over in the tree, moaning at every draw of breath. Her hair had fallen over her face and the shards of her needle were sprinkled over her shoulder like sea glass. Remnants of the poison had seeped through when it had bursted, but thankfully it was low enough of a dosage that only her shoulder had stiffened. The hallucinations would be brought on in moments, but hopefully their effects would be lessened, two.
"Loyalty?" she asked, wondering what he meant by her loyalty being bought out.
"I don't know what you mean," she hissed, her nose curling back in disgust, "and I don't think Robin would be too forgiving if you harbored a criminal, either."
Bren snorted, “I’m not afraid of him lass.” He just wanted to know who her employer was, when he asked who bought her loyalty. Apparently one of Robin’s old friends, seemed to be a lot of those that wanted him dead.
“I’m gonna turning you in! Don’t fool yourself on that, and you’ll probably hand too! I’m just willing to keep you alive till you get there is all.” He motioned for her to come down. “Now come on, you’re clearly hurting, get down and I’ll take you to get patched up. My word is my bond lass, I won’t let the others touch you so long as you cooperate.”
"What a noble gesture, I'm truely astounded that a man of your rankings wouldn't just finish me off here, while I tremble before thy's almighty power," she mocked, but nonetheless effortlessly fell from the tree.
"So what now? Are you going to rope me, cuff me? Feed me to a malnourished Nathaniel?" she asked, the tone of her tongue getting sharp at every quick remark.
"But I'm a bit confused, how do you plan on, "not letting the other's touch me" and turn me in? Seems a bit contradictory, my dear, now doesn't it?" she asked, rolling each of her shoulders, as the unlethal douse of poison spread through her back, numbing the broken ribs.
Bren rolled his eyes, annoyed but otherwise unperturbed by her smart mouth. “Oh no, don’t restrain yourself simply because your life is in my hands, go ahead and tell me how you really feel,” he said his voice full of sarcasm. Grabbing her wrists he did in fact tie a small length of rope around them pinning them to her back.
“Nathaniel doesn’t eat people, well…he might eat you, but not..not in the way yer thinkin lass,” he said coughing awkwardly as he finished tying the rope. Gripping her shoulder he gently but firmly pushed her along back towards the group.
“What I mean is I’m not going to let them kill you here and now, way I see it, dying a few days from now is a lot better than dying right now. A lot can happen on the road maybe you’ll escape, maybe you’ll get a judge who takes pity on you, maybe you’ll find a secret passage or some such in your cell. The point is I’m giving you what you didn’t give Peter, a chance to get out alive,” he said as he walked her back to the wagon and their group.
"You really wanna know? How I really feel?" she began with her regular his, but after a look flashed in her eyes she hesitated, calming into an almost pur.
"I think we both could put our time to better use," she suggested, hoping the draw in her voice was self-explanatory, before rolling her shoulders and lifting her arms awkwardly into the air. Biting the end of the not, she only further secured herself, before continuing, "just a favor to a lowly slave, dear. The cards aren't looking in my favor from here on out. Besides I did do you a favor, giving you the last hit to the demon. You're the one that will be recognized."
She snorted at the Nathaniel remark, possibly regretting for not making an alliance with him first. No, they were too similar in a half-assed sort of manner, it would be too hard not to grow on him.
"Not even last the hour of a defeat and we can manage innuendos," she sighed.
But when the man mentioned Peter it touched a sore spot, as her ribs were crushed all over again.
"It was nothing personal, the darts aren't lethal," she said defensively, wishing she could out her real target. But if he were to discover that she had been after the head of their faithful leader, whose to know how many more bones he would have broken.
Bren raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of tone. “Lass if yer trying to bargain with me yer wastin yer time,” he said pushing her onwards. “I’m not killin ya and I’m not lettin ya go and that’s the end of it.”
He erupted into a short barking laugh at her mention of innuendo, “ha ha! Well ya made it too damn easy lass! Not my fault the man’s been throwing ‘fuck me’ eyes at everything with breasts. Now that’s someone you could seduce! Wonder how many punches to the dick it’ll take before he gives up tryin..” He chuckled some more as they continued walking.
He sighed in relief at her saying the dosage wasn’t lethal, “oh well that’s good, I like the lad. Well the way I figure the details of yer little assassination scheme are between you and Robin, I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t kill ya,” he said giving her a wide grin before laughing again, he had come up with a number, three…almost definitely three.
Robin eyed Celeste as she was lead by Bren back into the main group beside their cart. He was tense and sending her a deadly glare. He still held the suffering boy in his arms who was shaking in pain. Peter was young, naive and harmless, Robin had no doubt that the dart had hit him unintentionally.
He opened his mouth, to scream, or curse, or demand answers, he did not know which. But a tug at his arm halted Robin into inaction. Peter had his sleeve in hand weakly, "no, leave her be..." he choked out obviously in pain.
Robin stared down at Peter and gave a nod. Filled with hatred he was compelled to say, "as you request, but I will remember this."
"We leave in the morning."
Chapter 6
Returning Home
The following days had passed by much slower, knowing their task had ultimately failed and that they had been wounded in the battles, Robin pushed them much less on the journey back across the wastelands. However there was still some urgency left as he desperately hoped to return for a farewell.
The boy Peter had grown weak from the poison but after the second night he had shown signs of lessened pain. However, he now suffered from terrible hallucinations to accompany his numbed limbs - which were slowly regaining feeling. Robin hoped that in days he would be less inflected by the poison's work. He lay sleeping in the cart.
Robin kept to himself, mostly, talking but a few words. He'd been caught up in memories of other times, remembering events that now could never happen once more. Some of them brought smiles. But they could not dispel the growing darkness within, even for their moment.
And Morcal still dwelled in the madness caused by the screams of the demon.
~~
Three days after the events of Swanheart Hill
~~
The clouds thundered overhead and the rain would once more fall at any moment. Unlike in the center of the wasteland the outskirts only received a meagre drenching, it was still fierce and cold of course. The afternoon sun had long since been covered by the grey clouds.
Whatever Robin had expected to await them in Hometown, it was not the reality. As they approached the slope downward at the Wastelands edge they could all hear the screams of demons.
From the valley rose forth black smoke.
Hurrying along, they reached the edge and looked down. The town was aflame, the fields all around were already burnt, everything was black. Everything was in ruins.
Below what seemed like the final raid was underway. Demon's were loose in town, shrieking and cutting down all those that resisted. And men fought beside them, compelled by their master Harwick to do so. The Shriek King's human pawn led his warriors through town, facing any resistance with his own swords. He captured any who surrendered and killed those who remained defiant.
"Madness," growled Robin. It would be foolish to enter the warzone. But he knew he must for he could not leave his wife down there. He turned abruptly to face what remained of the group.
"I know, I would be asking much of you all to accompany me into that hell. All I wish is to collect my wife, so I can say one more goodbye. You have my appreciation if you would help.
"But, you all are free to do as you wish. Morcal shall lead any of you who wish to be paid."
His words were hollow, he didn't truly believe any would help him. Only insanity and danger waited for them below in that town now. But he needed to be there.
It was over, or so it seemed. Facing with the new question, Nathaniel couldn't help but gaze carefully with deep blue gaze, that should it had any magical ability it would have froze whatever stood in the path he looked at.
But mage he was not.
Hell, he couldn't even handle one simple summoning.
Rubbing his hands, he still felt the itching pain in the ring finger, that still burnt, that still ached. A bitter-sweet reminder to his failure.
He wanted to leave right now. Nothing was going to come out of this anyway. He failed Robin, he burned the fucking demon. Now, even if he wanted to fight, that cursed wench demoness has yet to awaken. And most of all, speaking of wenches, it seemed that Victoria has grown to be somewhat distant and there was no other female within this small party he had desired the body of at that moment.
He just wanted to get the hell out of there for he was not going to help out of the sympathy of his good heart. Hell, he didn't even know what the meaning of "good heart" was.
But then his gaze found that of Qadir.
The silent warrior had reminded him one thing just by standing so firmly, so proudly, the way he had always stood, despite of his defect.
Nathaniel's eyes grew bigger.
With Qadir there was never a need for words. The two understood each other far better than any woman would know her lover and were far loyal to each other than any woman would be to her husband.
Nathaniel nodded in agreement to Qadir wordless pleading.
"Let's go", he hissed to Robin, knowing perfectly well that Qadir would not approve if Nathaniel decided to leave before the mission was done; If, despite missing parts, if despite failing, he was not going to see this through.
Nathaniel decided to do at least that. He owed it to Robin, at least that small service after ridding of his wife's sole cure, and it was not just because of honor.
No matter how rotten Nathaniel might have been, he still had a reputation to preserve.
Wattz
04-27-2012, 08:41 PM
Ruby spent the trip back through the Wasteland in reserved silence. It was over, and that was more than enough for her. A wasted cause, a ridiculous chase back and forth without anything to show for it, but at least she hadn’t had to sacrifice much to fulfill what Robin had asked for. She kept looking at her coins, including the money that Ferrik had handed her. Her fingers ran intently along the round edge and sides. She spent a lot of her time sitting beside the poisoned boy Peter, listening vaguely to his feverish breathing. It was rhythmic, calming. Shame what Celeste had done.
But of course….
Demonic screeching, dying screams, all unforgiving and grating against Ruby’s ears. She threw herself outside and looked out at the town, sighing deeply and hanging her head at the sight. “Of course!” Ruby laughed.
Robin flung himself in without a second thought, but did she honestly wish to follow? Ruby had no wish to die, and she had completed her task as far as she was concerned. Yet if she slipped away, Robin still had her real name.
Ah, but perhaps… Well, she’d snuck into Hometown East before. Why stay West? After all, what use is a town being ransacked by demons? Ruby hoped it would all work out….
Ruby looked upwards at Morcal before shrugging and motioning at the fight, “After you?”
Robin nodded to Nathaniel and the silent Qadir, their help much appreciated and somewhat unexpected. Robin had never trusted Nathaniel, now the journey was over he had little to offer the man. Whatever influence he once had in this town was now lost forever, if he lived the day he'd be little more then a wanted outlaw. He did not know why the man followed him now.
The Imp elected to go with Morcal, he was unsurprised.
He turned to the undecided pair, "Bren, what will you do? Will you come into town, or take your prisoner away now?" His mention of Celeste had come with a cold voice.
He eyed the pair laying in the cart. Peter was still very weak and would only hindrance those entering the town. As Robin watched, the boy muttered words about his mother and sisters, slurred and panicked words. Robin looked away, if they lived around town he feared they were already dead or had been captured by Harwick's men.
Still unconscious, perhaps never waking, was the mysterious woman. Clothing having been burnt off at the battle now wore items that misfit her body. Robin heard talk of her fiery form, but did not know what she was.
He did not think either should enter town, nor be left alone. "Victoria," he asked gently, wishing to keep her from harm as well, "will you look over these two?"
Kiall
04-30-2012, 01:50 AM
“Sorry lad,” Bren responded shaking his head, he had been staring at the devastation and had lost track of what was going on, such was the curse of being old. “The sight of a burning village was makin me nostalgic,” he said chuckling. “Don’t worry about Celeste she won’t be a problem anymore,” he said enigmatically..
When they had first stopped to look upon the burning village, Bren knew that any hope of them surviving were slim. He had snuck away to where Celeste was and untied her bindings. “Robin won’t be coming out alive,” he said, “he’s already dead…if you hurry now you can leave before anyone notices, no one will follow you, you might make it to another town,” he had said turning and heading back to the group before anyone noticed he was gone, hoping she would just leave, find her own path somewhere else.
“Anyways I’m with ya lad, didn’t think it needed to be said,” he said grinning as his mind came back to the present. “Let’s go find that wife of yers, ready to go whenever you are,” he said clapping Robin on the back before pulling out his axe.
Extraordinaire.
04-30-2012, 02:05 AM
"I'm in," Celeste said briskly, although her gaze never drifted from Kiall.
What gave him the impression of wanting to escape? Her deed wasn't nearly done, especially if Robin's survival rate was expected to be so low. She needed to see through to his death, even if she no longer wished for it to be through her hands. Somewhere in the journey she'd grown vulnerable to him and was now too weak to complete the task alone, but why not watch him fail in the meanwhile? She told herself that standing over him, refusing his aid as he died wouldn't bother her, but there was already a stiffness forming in her gut, deeply bothered by the thought alone.
And whose to say he was to die? Something churned inside of her, annoyance of her doubt in who had otherwise been an incredible leader. Someone who saw through her, when even the wise old man was convinced she'd hit her target, despite how unreasonable nicking someone with an nonlethal dart would be.
But there was no forgiveness from her assigner... Was there? She wasn't sure, he might already be on a hunt for her head, due to the delay of the journey... She'd promised him a week and including the travel time, it had already been several. Time was unforgiving, guilt was unforgiving, not following through was unforgiving... When had she become such a damned slave?
However, in the heat of her mid-revolution, her anti-conscious had managed to restore itself. There was nothing more than if Robin wouldn't go cold yet, then the same would efficiently happen to her. She couldn't let go of her business, she couldn't be added to the black market list of thieves and assassins, it wasn't worth the catch.
But as demon shrills and agonized screams broke through her thought process, she couldn't help but think how simple it would be to get lost in the process, and assume she was dead. Then a terrible thought crossed her- what if he had a part in the chaos? Word of Robin's failed returned was sure to have broken out, the hell with their arrival just added to the convenience...
"If you don't mind," she smiled at the remaining crew, rubbing her wrists, only to bring attention to the bonds that no longer restrained her.
Walking over to Peter, who was sick as ever and had been automatically volunteer to stay behind, she sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked for any signs of response, any sort of panic or frown that would prove he was capable of receiving her voice.
"We had an alliance and I'm not one to shoot that kind of thing to hell," she said, opening her mouth to speak once again, but opting not to. Did he understand? Did it matter? Could she say anything more, without revealing too much?
"I... I can't tell you what was in my mind, but I never meant to hurt you. Your family is down there... If any of them are left, we need to find them and prove to them what you're worth. Show them how separated from the rest of the lot you are- how much braver and purer-" she cut herself off from the ramble, front teeth sinking into the curve of her lip, before sighing in defeat and combing her fingers through her roots. Her teeth were gritted as she glanced up from him, fingers now tightly clutched onto the back of her hair, as if she were struggling just to keep her head.
"I need you to stop me from doing something I'm going to regret," she whispered, her lips hardly moving to pronounce the words, while her eyes stayed downcast.
"Victoria, will you look over these two?"
Her journey home had been almost sleepless, a turmoil of guilt and apprehension as they lost whatever little hope they had. Perhaps she should have been glad so many of them survived. With betrayal hidden in every shadow, lust and hate their motive, life seemed more a punishment now than a gift.
The town’s demise brought fresh pain sharp against her chest – friends and neighbours being slaughtered before her very eyes. She wanted to cry but she was too worn down, crushed between fate’s unforgiving fingers.
She only sighed – lump in throat holding silence – and nodded to Robin’s question.
Her mind cared little for the actions of the others, even as they agreed to fight for the safety of her home. Surprise came most when Nathaniel rallied to the cause, although she wasn’t sure why she would question the morals of such a kind man.
“Thank you,” she almost murmured, but lightly bit her tongue to keep the words safe.
Maybe when the nightmare had finally ended, she would find her joy again.
Hollow sentiment, to no person in particular, she simply said, “Good luck.”
"I know, I don't understand why but I know the dart was not meant for me," Peter croaked, he looked at her still quite dazed, she was somewhat blurred in his vision. Suddenly there were tears coming down his cheeks, "we won't find them, they're gone."
"I saw the fields, all burnt. My home is too, I know.."
His words were full of emotion, the sight of looking upon his home aflame had broken his lighthearted nature and left Peter defeated. Hope at his family's survival was lost. Celeste above him was struggling with something of her own.
"I need you to stop me from doing something I'm going to regret," she whispered.
Peter knew something of regret now; he never should have come, he should have stayed home. Been there with his family, it may not have changed anything but still it was where he should have been.
He reached up, a moment of wild energy to clasp Celeste's clothing and drag her down to him. "No," he said almost angrily, "stop yourself, do the right thing Celeste." After the intensity he fell backward to rest.
~~
Robin thanked Bren quietly but gave Celeste a much colder response. He did not care for her to enter and had to wonder what was her reasoning. But he would not act, yet, he'd said as much to Peter and Bren.
"We'll be back," he told Victoria before they left for the town.
At the town's edge Morcal and Ruby split apart to head in another direction as Robin began to lead the rest of the party towards his wife. As they walked Robin kept an arrow ready in his drawn bow. Suffering from his wounded side he'd walked slower but was determined to reach the
Buildings burned around them, and the screams were louder as were the sounds of battle. By chance they passed relatively unhindered, the odd demon or wounded group of warriors proved little resistance to their movements. The group slunk around smoky back alley ways to find a back entrance. Robin's heavy knocking was met by a man.
"We'd thought you'd died Robin," Marian's brother cried, and clapped him on the shoulder. He eyed the others warily but beckoned them all in hastily. He looked aged since Robin has seen him last, white hairs more prominent - as were the lines on his face. "The attack has been strong, many have been lost here.
"Did you find the demon?"
Robin didn't reply directly, just looked away with a shake of his head. He didn't want to see any of the pain on the man's face so he didn't look up. "Can I see her?"
"She's in here," the man warned, "she's weak."
"Thank you for being here, Timok, I'll be with her now."
He seemed to struggle with something inside, before eventually relenting with a unhappy nod. "I need to help others in the family, stay with her until the end." They talked quietly some for, quick words about meeting up again once they had all fled town. Timok made off through the front entrance into the warring streets.
She lay in dim light unaware of the world outside them all. Marian, she was grey now, her skin hard and heavy, every movement a struggle. Her eyes fluttered open as he knelt beside her cot. Even without the colour her eyes smiled as Robin gripped her hands. Sickness had taken away her beauty leaving only a sickly woman.
"They didn't believe you'd be back," she whispered, "I knew you would return, so determined as always."
"I wished my return was happier for you, I hurried back to say goodbye," Robin replied. "I've failed you."
"It was enough Robin, there was little hope and you gave us that," she said, the effort of her speech was too much then and she closed her eyes. Robin sat in silence holding her hands, he kissed her lips.
"There is much anger inside of me," he shook, his speech wavering, "at those who've done this. I remember, your old words, they hold me back. But I do not know for how much longer I can struggle. I don't know if I can, with everything else breaking apart."
It took Marian a long time to reply, Robin had left her side and was walking back to the other room. "Don't give in to it, let it go, like you did before."
~
He'd resolved to carry her out of the town, so he'd be there when she finally passed away. Robin would dig a crave far from town. It was better then being another person to become ashes in the fires about the town.
As Robin prepared to leave the house, an object flew into the room through the only window. Landing at the feet of them all was the severed head of Timok, Marian's brother.
A voice even from outside echoed through the small shack, touched with madness it beckoned them out. It was laughing, it mocked.
"Come out, come out, humans. I've wanted to meet you for some time Red Hood. Don't keep me waiting."
An ancient demon lurked outside; leader of the Shrieks - the one who had instigated the scheme to remove Robin from the town. Known as the Shriek King he was the oldest of his kind, having lived alongside the Banshees before their slaughter centuries ago. His power was simply more than other Shrieks.
He waited, alone as fire burned all around. Long black hair fell to his lower back, he wore no shirt but wore a necklace made of bone. He watched with black soulless eyes, that saw all.
Bren’s eyes widened as the head crashed through the window. Then he growled his hand clenching into fists, goddamn but he was so sick of this! All these demons and their taunting, and this back stabbing nonsense!
Couldn’t even wait until they were out of the house before they ambushed them! They had made a mistake in announcing their presence though.. Bren’s eyes flicked to the backdoor of the house, if the fire wasn’t too bad and enough of the buildings had stayed up they could circle around, and ambush their ambush! He’d need help though.
He walked quietly towards Nathaniel while everyone was distracted, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. “Stay quiet and follow me,” he said whispering so that no one else could hear them. “We’re gonna show these whoresons what a real ambush feels like,” he said grinning as he moved away from the group out the back door.
Nathaniel nodded, and followed. It wasn't like he had some better idea, and the way Bren pulled up the reins on how to handle it applied to him far more than the heartbroken Robin's frozen gaze and surprise. He titled his head and made a swift click with his tongue, grabbing Qadir's attention without much effort and the two followed the lead of Bren, "What's on your mind?"
Good, the back alley was still relatively clear and not on fire. Smart of Nathaniel to bring his bodyguard, what’s-his-name. Bren looked back as Nathaniel spoke still making his way through the area.
“They’re all focused on the damn house and Robin, so if we’re quiet and lucky we can make a wide circle around them and hit their back while they’re distracted. If all goes well we’ll be able to kill a couple before they realize what’s going on and by then the rest of the group can get out of the house to help.” He chuckled suddenly, “though I’ve never had much experience with shrieks we might end up dead, but that’s always a risk.”
Eventually they made it around to the other side of the streets. Bren leaned against the wall of a nearby building peering through the corner. Sure enough they were all still facing away from them. “Don’t suppose you could, summon some of that crazy fire nonsense could you?” He asked turning back to Nathaniel. “If you could throw it right in the center of the group while me and yer bodyguard attack the back we could really do some damage.”
"She may really have the chance to kill me this time", Nathaniel smirked, "But I guess our chances to win this would not last long without my mistress aid, I'll go to the center, order Qadir to follow your lead, he shall do as you guide him to do".
Bren nodded looking at Qadir as he pulled out his axe. “Right then, plan’s simple, kill everyone that isn’t me or the rest of the group, try not to get killed yerself. It’s important Mr. Nathaniel gets near the center so keep their attention on us got it?” The man of course did not answer but he was confident he understood. Raising his axe he charged barreling through the exposed back of the group.
His first swing cleaved through one before they knew he was there then they were on him. His axe swung tirelessly cutting a swath through the group, roaring his battle cry. They were still confused and disorganized but that would not last long and they outnumbered him quite a bit, which made his ploy with Nathaniel all the more critical.
Once both Qadir and Bren left his side, Nathaniel started to dash for the center path, running as if his life were depending on it... which wasn't that far off from the truth...
He dug his hand into his side coat pocket, searching for that small ring as his fingers picked it up and held it before him. The glow of the red stone was very faint, but he could still sense how powerful it was. He swallowed and took a deep breath, knowing how risky was to use it when his power has yet to be restored to him and having the demoness still not in her best condition.
Worst outcome, nothing happens and the ring will be broken for good. Another bad scenario is having the woman go all berserk and killing everyone, including those he was supposed to protect.
Oh well... He lived too long for someone like him... Alluding death was already too much of a gift from his miserable life.
The ring fitted the index finger like a match between two lovers bodies upon the sheets of the bedchambers, and the agony of pain was so intense he nearly lost his mind. He shuddered, sweating so hard and feeling like his body being caught up with all the years he was about to miss once he died here as his skin grew rough and full of wrinkles. Blood was pouring out of his eyes instead of tears, and they quickly gathered into a nice small pool into which he saw his own reflection.
What used to be a man in his early 30s was now broken, sad man in his late 50s. Even his hair grew paler along with his skin. The look of his blue eyes gave him some strength to look ahead and face the consequences of his choice.
A choice he would not have otherwise accepted.
But there he was, broken, old man, with almost no power or will, and right at that moment a glint of fire burnt around him, into his old bones and body, warming him with the sight of hope in the vision of the woman... the only woman he ever loved.
She smiled at him and he grinned back, falling onto his knees, "If I don't survive this, you'll be free... However, if I do, I'm going to fulfill my dream... with you by my side.... Join me goddess.... I'm not.... the type of normal human you get to see every century, I think it will be worth your time... no?"
Without speaking she just hovered away, above and far from him. Sustaining the power still hurt him, still taken a lot from him... but it felt warm.... it felt right....
She accepted him at last.
Boy, if he was going to live this he would have to follow his promise.... geez... talking about 'no pressure'...
He chuckled, the red ring glowing, "Feed as you like, my mistress", Nathaniel cried and watched her flying, burning the battlefield and making the whole area shine in such divine light that was not seen, and would never be seen again over these parts.
On the other side Qadir looked up only for a moment, watching the light with awe before smiling one of his rare ever to be seen smiles of his and moved on to follow Bren's lead.
As fire scorched the line of Shrieks, others emerged to fight. Ferrik and his small band of survivors came rushing out from a burning building. They smashed into the enemies, still in disarray, joining up with Bren and Qadir.
With his calm detached manner Iula sliced the enemies, always moving with ease but caring little for life - his own included. A Shriek raked his chest before the pale skinned warrior hack it's head free. The young Robby was not a spectacular warrior, but he was fierce and resolved to help. He cursed angrily at the demons, swiped at them, was knocked all about but he was tireless. For all that, the young man would have died without Liu's blade beside him - the lady his protector.
Just as Ferrik was reaching Bren; there were cries around them. The enemy had brought their own backup, men and demon emerged into the fight. Azaria soared above them aflame; above them it rained down with her power.
Ferrik swore at their arrival, he turned to Bren, "there are many of them, we cannot stay here for long. But we cannot abandon Robin!" Determined to save the man, even if it cost himself to do so.
"Go," broke in Ebb, her arrival silent, "help Robin kill their leader. I will create you a path free."
Breaking free of them, her footsteps were light on the ground. Unhindered she walked the chaotic street - it was like the demons could not see her, and the humans shied away from looking upon her.
Ebb stood above the aged Nathaniel, her eyes looming over the man's appearance. She looked down upon him, thoughts calculating, judging his every action. Perhaps she smiled, white feathers lay at her feat.
Sometime after the others had all left, Peter found himself stirring in the cart once more. Vaguely he remembered Celeste's words to him, and some of his own in response. Helplessness came to him them as he thought upon the family he'd left alone, his body wasn't allowing him to help them. Trapped his thoughts circled drawing him closer to desperation.
The air stirred, grew warm and then bizarrely the woman in the cart had just seemed to vanish without a trace at all remaining. It further added to his confusion with what she really was but his addled state held these thoughts for mere moments before fading away.
Peter tried to fight at her touches, reminding him of his mother. But as he felt her lips touch his forehead he began to drift away to slumber once more.
In the depths of his mind dwelled a longing to return home, urging him to rise.
Peter found himself then clutching the wooden side to the cart. He stood up against it with the first time in days having his feet holding him up. He swayed there before beginning a staggered path toward his farm house.
"Must help mother and the sisters," Peter mumbled trying to push himself onward.
Victoria glanced at the boy, poised to intercept his attempts, but finding little motivation. The stumble of his gait and the sweat of delirium on his brow gave her comfort. It was doubtful that he would make it off the hilltop, even should he try.
“Lie back down, Peter,” she said absently, hoping that he would find sense through his illness. A small insect squirmed between her fingers as she calmly picked off its legs, finding solace in the helpless pain of prey.
Exhaustion kept her locked on the cart’s seat, unmoving. While her heart felt sorrow at the boy’s misery, she found that selfishness kept her mind from bowing down to her mothering instinct.
Peter did not make it far before falling to the grass exhausted, he found little comfort there as the earth was hard. Glancing at Victoria, he saw how uninterested she was in his plight, perhaps she thought them all dead. He closed his eyes then, and his thoughts were despairing. There was no one who would help him, he was too weak to do anything himself. He wouldn't see his family again.
She looked on, waiting patiently for him to rise again, occasionally glancing towards the town in her repressed concern for Robin.
In the end, the boy did not seem to have the strength to stand. It would have been cruel to let him lie there. The thought danced around her mind for minutes before she found the compassion to act on it.
Struggling to lower herself from the cart, her body maintained the aches from the previous days, limiting the ease with which she could walk.
“Peter,” she murmured wearily, “Come on, let’s get you back into the cart… to rest…”
She seemed to care just a little still but not enough to help him on his way. Peter almost replied that she sounded weak and should rest there herself, but he held himself away from the anger and helplessness. Sadly he relented with a bowed head before struggling to his knees.
Victoria placed a hand under his shoulder, trying to heave him to his feet so they could get the boy somewhere comfortable. Her contributing strength was minimal, however – Between them, the effort was a struggle still.
With the wood base creaking under his weight Peter lay back in the cart once more, no longer with the strength to move but for the little glances to Victoria. It had been a slow pace to get him back there and he relented to the exhaustion. "... thank you," he said though his voice was full of sadness.
"I should have said this days ago," he muttered, "I'm not good at noticing things, but I should have seen you were ill before." Peter spoke words that had drifted about his mind for several days, babbling them in a croaking voice. He amended, "and still are. I'm sorry, you had to help me. Just so foolish. So sorry."
She shifted him until he was settled, trying to avert his frivolous words, “We are all just tired, Peter.” With careful hands, she ran fingers through his hair, trying to fix his battered appearance while they had the time spare. He was so innocent in his rambling. She wished to apologise for the husk that exhaustion was making her, but whispered guilts would not amend a situation.
She gave him a light kiss upon the top of his head, as a parent might their child, and leant back onto her hands, “No-one wanted it to turn out like this.”
Wattz
05-22-2012, 09:54 AM
As Morcal and Ruby went off in another direction, Ruby eyed the town wearily. The cries of the demons made her feel unsettled, right to her core. She felt as if she had no center, as if all control she had once perceived herself to have was nothing but a myth. If only the demons themselves had stayed myths, shadows to keep children company at night. No, this was foolish thinking. If demons did not exist, well… Ruby could not fathom such a world.
“And I thought we were nearing the end,” Ruby said somewhat absentmindedly, though she still spoke to Morcal. “All this mess… but for what, really? What point is all of this nonsense?” She drew her rapier from its sheath and felt the metal tremble along with her own hand. “Robin has truly made fools of us all.”
Morcal had been silent since separating from Robin and the others. His maddening thoughts circled about the woman he walked alongside. Memories from when he was young mingled with betrayal and his own cynicism. At moments he glanced at Ruby almost in love but seconds later his thoughts would change.
Up ahead was the opening to the warehouse where they all met. With Ruby's words in his mind he thought of the money awaiting them. "He is not the only one." He growled at her.
"This now?" Ruby smiled, recognizing, but not fully understanding, the hypocrisy at work. Perhaps this was what maddened her. Though it tugged at her mind, her own survival still came to the forefront. Thank goodness she could see the warehouse getting closer and closer. "Well, I suppose it's only fair now, isn't it? But don't let it get to you too much, Morcal dear. It's certainly done nothing for that smile of yours."
"There is little to smile upon," he hissed at her angrily, he didn't know what plan Ferrik had introduced to Ruby but knew it would cause trouble to them all.
The fighting and demons had reached little of this part of town so the building was not on fire yet. Morcal shoved the door inward fiercely. There was little in the building now, hidden away was the chest locked up full of gold. Morcal held the key in his palm.
"Tell me. Does making these little acts, please you?"
"Well I am quite fond of living," Ruby said as she eyed the key in Morcal's hand, then looked to the chest before them. She moved forward and placed her hand on top of it as if absentmindedly. "It's always been a matter of survival in this world now, hasn't it? We all learn to adapt in our own ways." She flinched at the sound of a window crashing, but looked up at Morcal and raised both eyebrows with a shrug.
"Aye, we make our own ways," fighting and death was his own path now. Morcal watched her resting on the chest struggling with himself. He almost held the key out to her but stopped himself to say, "and yours is only for coin? Damn anyone who gets in the way? Or betray and leave for death?"
Ruby now sat atop the chest, her legs crossed in front and her rapier to her side. "And what about you? You're just the same, you know. You'd kill me to get revenge, I know it. I can see it in your eye. You'd kill me if it meant getting all the gold in the world back into your pocket. And who could blame you? There is little else worth caring for in this hell."
"Family, cared once for family," he said sadly, and then spat at her, "I'm unlike you, you betrayed us all for gold! Lead Robin into a trap here."
Ruby laughed. "Yes, it is I that lead Robin to a trap, when he's the one with blackmail on his side. Lead all of us into a trap if you ask me, nothing to show for it. Couldn't even save his damn wife." Here her laughter turned into a scowl. "Only goes to show how family lacks permanence."
He snarled in response to her laughter, shaking in his madness. He brought the key back to his side, "of little help from you, all you did at that battle was talk to Ferrik. What happened to you, to hate family?"
"I feel no hatred, only indifference!" Ruby shrugged and smiled again, though inside she felt unsure. But her mind kept wandering to the chest. "Morcal, this is all so petty. You are arguing over nothing while the city burns."
"Nothing - you do not listen! If only I had known you were so cruel when we met, I don't understand how you can stand by so casually." He said, and hastened by madness added, "Tell me what Ferrik intends to do with Robin, what trap is he walking into!"
"He wants to stop Harwick. Robin is fine. Clearly you worry far too much."
"Don't lie to me!" He snarled, face a vicious mask of anger, "tell me what you planned!"
"I speak the truth," she said with a smile then looked Morcal straight in the eye.
"Truth?!" With that word, something snapped inside his maddened mind. When had she ever told the truth to him, to anyone. Morcal was lunging across to her, arms outstretched to snatch Ruby from the chest. He growled out, "you never speak the truth!"
Ruby jumped back quick, standing on the chest and pointing her rapier at his neck. A bead of sweat dripped off her cheek. "Morcal, calm yourself. I promise you, it is nothing more than that."
He hissed, "I tried, I tried for so long to be calm. But around you everything gets destroyed."
The thin blade pierced skin, slicing a thin line as Morcal shifted his head to the side. Though blood ran he could feel little of it, he roared and continued his charge. Savagely trying to swipe he from atop the chest.
Ruby withdrew her sword with a snap back, stumbling backward and almost slipping off. He was insane, rash, and the sudden horror of it had startled her. Ruby jumped to the side and rolled out of his way.
Swinging wildly his arm was easily evaded, Morcal crashed into the chest and tumbled over it. Crashing to the far side he slumped against the wall and floor together squished in an awkward position. But his eyes only looked at her, standing a little away from the chest back more in the warehouse centre. He staggered to his feat jumping back over the chest, almost with caution he closed in on her.
"For god's sake, calm down Morcal!" Ruby screamed. "It's the truth!" She jumped to her feet and steadied herself. The door. If only she could just get to facing the door.
But Morcal was past reasoning now and only saw what he wanted to see, to him she had betrayed Robin and lead the others into a trap. There was little of the love he once had in him now. Enraged he didn't listen to Ruby's panicked screams, didn't calm down. Descending upon her, he lunged trying to clutch her in a tight grip.
In his rage, Morcal was clumsy, vulnerable. Ruby would not be able to get to the door but already she could see his weak spots. He almost caught her, fists just inches from hitting her head, but she was small enough to duck beneath him. As he came toppling onto her, she used his momentum to stab upwards into Morcal's stomach, piercing the flesh.
"Augh!" He cried out feeling the blade enter his stomach and emerge through his back. He towered over her, arms reaching far beyond her small body. Feeling himself weaken has snatched down at her, hands clawing their way around Ruby's neck. Tightening.
Gasping, choking, she scrambled with one hand on Morcal's, a desperate attempt at prying him away. With her other hand still on her sword she quickly withdrew it from his stomach, and with all of her strength aimed at the man's eye with a rough jab.
They struggled back and forth, her hand trying to rip free his claws, but he dug them in tight. He didn't see the rapier coming until it was far to late to act. The sword pierced his eye and sliced his skin. Roaring he thrust her away, covering his damaged eye. Blood began to drip through his fingers, and he turned back to Ruby with a mutilated face. He hissed and blood ran into his mouth. Wheezing as the pain seared his skin he shuffled over on unsteady feet. One more desperate attempt to savage her with his meaty fists.
Ruby gasped for air, breathing as fast as she could to regain herself. She was light-headed, falling, but she couldn't rest just yet, for the man simply would not give up. His eye was destroyed, his stomach bleeding, but this time she aimed for the heart. He dove again, and with a cry she stuck her sword into his chest, trembling from head to toe.
Morcal screamed in pain as the blade was forced into his chest.. He slumped over falling short of his target, he lay on the ground, wounds bleeding heavily. Wheezing Morcal rolled his hand over to reveal the key for her, it dangled in his fingers for a moment before falling the the floor. He died then.
Her chest heaved with the strain of breathing, and she looked down at the man dead on the floor. Ruby did not scowl, only trembled, and after a long pause she bent down to take the key still conveniently within his hand. She fumbled getting it into the lock, but when she managed to open the lid she stared into the piles and piles of gold, Ruby could see tiny reflections of herself on the bumpy surfaces but could not see herself clearly. Looking back, she saw the bag still on Morcal's person, took the bag and quickly piled the gold inside.
Before leaving, Ruby stood over Morcal's body. She leaned down, passed a hand over his forehead. She took the wide-brimmed hat upon her head and placed it over Morcal's face before heading out the door, never to be seen again.
Extraordinaire.
05-28-2012, 01:17 PM
Robin / Celeste
Peter hadn't been much of a help. What was the right thing, in her scenario? Helping Robin wouldn't be right for her, yet killing Robin wouldn't be right to the cause. There was no damned justice, no morality behind it; she either sought through another victim's death, or signed for her own. Why did he see her so fit to make the decision?
And where the hell was Bren in the middle of this? Celeste wanted to throw a tantrum, to sob until she collapsed, to act out as childishly as she could, until all of her regrets were released, until all of the complications untangled. She wanted to be taken care of, to be calmed down, to have all of the pressures shared mutually with someone else, and her frustration with the sudden helplessness, above all else, fueled her instability.
When she left Peter, she wasn't quite sure how long she'd stood over him after he collapsed, the rescue party had departed. Trailing after them, she tried to make out her vague familiarity, which was only muddied with flames and panic. She felt her way along a wall for quite some time, before a silence fell that could only be Robin and his dying, if not deceased, wife. The stillness in the air had created an almost palpable tension, a kind of human despair that made men go mad, instantaneously.
Through the smoke and dust, she got a glimpse of the men, saw his expression for a moment, and then her brain registered that she was at his side. When had she walked over? How long had it taken her?
She was feet away from her, head bowed, but eyes still cast forward. Was she giving in to submission? Was she apologizing? Was she accepting whatever death come, at his side?
"I-" she finally spoke, although no conscious thought fueled the reaction, before a vibration in the ground interrupted her.
A head. The arpeggio of thuds that it had made clung in the air, already creating a hopelessness, before the voice spoke.
"Come out, come out, humans. I've wanted to meet you for some time Red Hood. Don't keep me waiting."
"Robin," she whispered, sinking further into the house, expecting him to make the next move. The voice sounded familiar, maybe because all evil was associated to her assigner, but the need to conceal her identity was still triggered. To be recognized, was to be targeted, although she didn't grasp the concept of who the speaker was.
Robin stared at the dead man's head; his hands shaking holding the body of his wife. A moment later his eyes passed over Celeste, unfocused. He stumbled to the doorway and placed Marian down. When he rose it was without uncertainty, conviction lit his face as Robin turned, "come with me," he growled at Celeste. In his hand an arrow was ready.
He didn't wait for her reply, crossing over to the doorway he pulled it open. A dark shadow loomed in front of the doorway. The Shriek King smiled and said, "just you Red? The others are of little importance to me."
Still hidden by the doorway Robin gestured hastily at the woman to follow him out. "You fear my arrows so much?" Called Robin, despite his attempt to control the anger, it emerged in his voice.
"I have not felt fear for centuries; unlike the children."
Behind the demon, Bren and Nathaniel emerged to fight the others.
Unsure how else to react, Celeste nodded dumbly to his instructions and was at his flank. Silently thanking herself for holding onto the bloody, tattered cape, she draped it over herself and ducked behind Robin.
She considered listening to his direction and staying close behind, but after catching a glimpse of Bren and Nathaniel, her restlessness intensified. Waiting for the Shriek King to speak, solely interested in Robin, she ducked behind him and emerged in the crowd of demon's, falsely hoping to go unnoticed by the disguise.
As Celeste slipped away into the crowd of demon's and humans; Robin emerged with arrow drawn. It took him mere moments to locate his foe and fire. An arrow pierced the ancient demon's should, sending him back a step. But a moment later the king ripped the arrow free and threw it to the ground.
"Always from afar," echoed the demon's voice to all ears present, disregarding any interfering sound from the battle. A second arrow hit the demon in the stomach but it did not faze him. "Is this all you are? Where is the blood and destruction?"
"You've heard too many stories, I'm not what they say," Robin growled. His third arrow passed over the demon's shoulder but did not hit him.
"Enough!" And then the demon opened it's mouth the scream.
Expecting madness to assault his being, he turned covered his face and ears.
But that was not what met him. From the Shriek King's cry cane forth a lashing, it flayed Robin's protecting arm and knocked him away. It was not a directed attack; buildings beside them were smashed inward. Demons were flung across the battlefield, humans too.
When Robin began to stand, his sleeves had been ripped from of his shirt. His cuts were bleeding and he was shaking heavily.
Celeste was doubled over in pain once the Shriek King opened his mouth, but not the kind that she'd expected. But in a way, she presumed, this was better than the bitching scream. She'd already gone deaf in one ear, how vulnerable was the other?
Pushing one of the shriek's off of her, she stood up and surveyed the pain. Other than the impact of it all she hadn't gotten the full extent of the hit, despite her awkwardly turned knee. Pushing it back into place with a slight gag, she stayed close to the ground, trying to catch site of the sneaky pair.
"What are they waiting for?" she hissed to herself, but after realizing that nearly all of the humans and shriek's had been pushed aside, they'd be more than noticable targets, had they attacked now.
Robin had attempted to take out the King once without any protest from his little army, so getting past the other Shriek's wouldn't be the real hardship. If only they could get close enough... Reaching into her boot, she fished out what she'd presumed to be the useless dagger, noticing for the first time that in her fall she'd managed to nick her heel. Flipping its handle a few times in her hand, she untangled herself from the crowd of fallen bodies, circling right to face the parallel Robin and demon. Looking around for the pair that she wouldn't find, she flipped the dagger once more in her hand before flinging it, with all of her unimpressive might, towards the side of the demon's face.
It hit hard impaling deeply through the demon's cheek to the blade hilt. It growled and turned about to see who interrupted them but Robin fired another arrow to hold attention to himself.
He saw Celeste weaponless standing beside the building where his wife lay; he gave her an appreciative nod forgetting his grievance. But without any weapon he didn't know what more to do, Robin screamed, "get her out of here!" He waved a hand at the fallen form of his wife.
With that he drew one of his remained arrows, aimed and fired once more.
The sound of skin splitting was more satisfying than it should have been for her- but before she could gloat her direct aim, she was given new directions. Staring doubtfully at the building, she glanced at Robin as if to ask if he was sure that was such a good idea. But nevertheless she darted back through the building, was able to slide the sickly woman across the room by her bedding, and glanced back at Robin.
The pair hadn't started some counter-attack and she started to doubt if they even had a plan. Robin kept his hold, but she hadn't a clue how many arrows her had left, or how much longer he'd last, before his defense team kicked in. Mumbling her apologies to his wife, she grabbed her facing her back, arms hoisting her up around her upper belly, and managed to escape by lifting the two out of a broken window. She hesitated outside of the house, now that they were reentering the chaos in the town, and decided to wait out the plan, before taking any further actions.
All were Pawns in the Angel Game, the young, the weak, demon, human, immortal, the strong, the old. From the highest rulers to the poorest common folk. Holy warriors and their corrupt counterparts.
The Seven, noted Ebb, used and abused all and then judged sinners harshly. A cruel world they all lived in, poor humans.
Ebb had not been this direct in centuries; she was almost barbarian in approach. But it could not be helped, her brother was too close to the truth. If she needed to maim, torture and kill her chosen then she would do so. For all that was holy, her brother must not re-attain his forbidden lover.
Now she stood above another man who she was about to destroy. Ebb held temptation in her hands, a thing this man would love to have. He would not care to be damned for all time in his acceptance, she was sure.
She knelt. Even then she could see him slowly aging and dying as the fires of a demon. Ebb sighed and placed her hand on his forehead halting the feeding of the demon, stopping the aging.
"Hello, young one." She whispered to his ears alone, they were outside time now and alone.
"We do not have much time until she consumes you...".
"And I would welcome it, of course", Nathaniel grinned, "No point to go around it, for we shall not survive today without her help...".
He looked up from eyes filled with pain, "Who are you?"
"Ah," she sighed, listening to his words with sadness. Did he truly believe this, she wondered, to be eaten by a demon and save them all. Was he a sacrificial hero, she pondered that as precious seconds ran away from them. Ebb did not think long, this man wanted all, power, money, women. "You may call me Ebb."
"You have dreams, I understand?" She asked him, eyeing him like prey. She needed to understand him, before she could take his soul. "You wish to survive to see them through."
Another piece on the game, a dangerous one to place but he could be hers. The Shriek must die this time and take its knowledge to the grave. But she had invested too much of her power already in the mortals that faced it, Ferrik, Robin, the others. They must survive or her plans would fail.
"Do you wish to live forever?".
Nathaniel nodded, "Just to live forever? My dear... I wish to be a god", he grinned.
That was why he was dangerous, he wanted much. Ebb breathed inward, pausing to confer once more. "Of course you do," she caressed his head, "of course you do."
How could a mere human have known he wished to be a source of ultimate corruption and insanity. The gods were gone, little could change that.
A dangerous tool, one who would seek for more, challenge the angels for his own will. This addition to those she already guided could help her defeat him. To keep an Angel away from the last Banshee, his demon bride.
Her arm slid behind his back, and she rose Nathaniel up to sitting. Ebb clasped his withered shoulder and leaned in to whisper, "there will be no turning back now young one."
"I'm aware of this, beautiful angel", Nathaniel whispered, "And I'm not young anymore...".
The Angel's lips touched down to Nathaniel's, sending power within him.
It was far more terrible than the pact he had with the demoness. Surges of heat, passion and lust entered his body like streams of living fire, eating his inwards like unstopping insects moving within.
Could it be that the heavens were truly more corrupted than the devils?
Amusing...
What a bitter, sweet irony it was.
Nathaniel leaned in, sucking her lips and tasting her like he was enjoying a delicious juicy fruit. His mouth was so wet and eager to drink her whole into himself that his hands seized her form so roughly he could have damaged any skin that was frail and weak. It hurt him badly, his wounds were open again and started to bleed once more, but that only increased his hunger for her power in ways a beast would devour a wounded living meal.
It was painful... but so fucking arousing as hell... or... should be said... heaven...?
Ebb noted his vigor returning, it surprised her how strongly his grip was. Nathaniel was tugging Ebb deeper into his hold, the angel obliged straddling his waist. She was pleased at his growing strength and continued to flow power into his body.
Bleeding wounds closed over and skin hardened becoming healed properly. As Nathaniel's body began to heal the pain numbed and began to fade within him. But something new was on the rise...
The angel's lips began to burn against Nathaniel's, but she held him to her. An inferno spread through his body, a familiar power to the man for Ebb did not draw upon her own power. Azaria, the fire demon, through Nathaniel's own bond fueled his transformation. He was consuming her.
Slowly but surely, the two merged as one, the human and the demoness. He felt Azaria's whole being become one with him, although her shape was still hovering above like bird on fire. He absorbed her, fire whispering within his limbs as ashes danced within him.
His eyes widen in pain as he tried to let go of Ebb, but the beautiful angel just held tighter, pressing herself into him, almost leaning down as her hips rubbed against his crouch. She pressed on him with her legs and arms, her nails digging deeper and he even felt her lips, that although still tightly clapped on him, were twisting upon his wet mouth into a smile.
Azaria, slowly lost her power. The fire aura about her was fading and in the end she was dropped to the ground, dead decaying body with frail bones that burned and faded into the wind like dust, leaving nothing behind.
Afterward, Ebb held the man close allowing the power to finish his transformation. Eventually she tore her lips away and smiled, she let Nathaniel fall to the street and clamp him down still with her hands. She looked upon him for a moment, no longer did his body look as old but he didn't have the body of a youth. Ebb place a hand on his heart feeling the hellfire beneath his skin.
"How does it feel Nathaniel, to be able to live forever - fearing only unnatural death?" She asked him, "can you feel the fire beneath your skin?".
Nathaniel gritted his teeth.
Damn.
The witch knew Azaria was fated to die from this... What a price... What a bitter sweet price...
Nathaniel looked up with his cold blue eyes, for the first time a hint of despair was glinting from them.
It wasn't supposed to be like that...
Not like that...
Azaria was gone, and with her the warm heart of the woman he ever learned to love...
Curses....
All he could do now was looking up at Ebb with uncertainty...
A god he was now, but doomed forever to be alone and forgotten.
For the first time he understood why the gods have been forgotten.
Fire sparked in his orbs that were his eyes like stars that have been lit in never ending darkness.
He shan't be forgotten.
For her sake too...
"It's good...", he grinned, a fake smile, but still a smile nonetheless, "Nah... it's perfect..."
Ebb smiled her own sad smile, she could have read him if she wished to but the price she knew was always going to affect him. "It is," she commented.
She stood over him then and held down her hand, "rise Immortal."
Before them both now swarmed the demons and human followers of the shrieks, having pushed back the defenders. Qadir and Ferrik's remaining warriors fought nearby but were hopelessly outnumbered.
"Shall you test this hellfire?" Provided Ebb, waving her hand at the horde.
His eyes sparkled again, the blue changing color to deep red, and looked like a vortex of thunders and rage was created within his eyes.
From the tips of his finger flames danced freely in waves and current that wouldn't shame the terrible of storms. His legs slowly departed from the ground as he felt his body lighter. He could have fly if he so desired to, but now, he just wished to burns the fuckers to seven hells.
And he did. The malice, sadness, proud, vicious and the rage burst from his own wills as the flames, that not long ago belonged to the demoness he made a pact with, were feeding hungrily at demons that threaten his life.
A sad grin of victory was spreading over his lips.
It was not enough, Nath thought he would never have his revenge fulfilled... but this was at least close to it...
Their visages burnt to ashes, living cinders that foul smoke ascended from, but just briefly before their screams of agony was lost with them.
"Why did you do it for me", Nathaniel asked once the silence was too great to bare, "What do you want to use me... to use us... for?"
The angel reveled in the devastation of demon life, screams filling her ears pleasurably. The street was burning fiercely on the flesh of the fallen. Ebb smiled at her work; the survivors shied away from her and Nathaniel, but remained close by if more demons came. Qadir tiredly was beside Nathaniel, however.
"I needed someone dangerous to become a champion; an Angel war has come to this land but we do not fight openly. We use human tools..."
So that's it...
"Most never know this fate."
"I think it could give me something to go as... But I would like to continue my hidden life. Once this is over, I'll be on my own", he smiled, "But I will rid of your enemies, beautiful one..."
"Flatterer," she smiled touching his cheek, "but you may carry on how you wish, now you have this power create the empire you long for...".
"I will", he nodded softly, his eyes slowly returning to normal, the power slowly leaving his form to look like he did when he just started this quest, "I will".
Kiall
06-06-2012, 12:09 AM
Ferrik nodded to Ebb, the strange woman left them to work her plan. "Come, it looks like Robin is in trouble!" He shouted to Bren taking off toward where the archer fought the demon king.
A strange cry erupted, around him demons and men lost footing or where knocked off their feet. A few were cut up too. Ferrik carried on with unsteady feet, staggering along he pulled free his sword.
Ahead of them all Robin was firing more arrows but the creature wouldn't fall. Pierced full of them the king began to walk toward Robin.
Bren swung his axe cutting through the demons when reinforcements arrived. He listened to the strange woman nodding to Ferrik as he began to move. A loud cry erupted and Bren gritted his teeth determined to stay on his feet. He stumbled as it finished suddenly disoriented, he would never admit it but the back to back fighting was taking a toll, he had still not recovered from the fight with the stoneater.
He tasted blood in his mouth as he forced himself to move. He saw the shriek king his front covered in arrows move slowly towards Robin. Bren growled gripping his axe tightly, roaring his battle cry he charged the demon swinging his axe meaning to cleave him in two. The shriek dodged but wasn’t quite quick enough a red line appearing on his stomach. Instantly Bren moved in a back-swing, it felt heavier in his hands but he kept up his relentless assault regardless.
This was madness, Ferrik thought staring wide-eyed at the demon. It looked unstoppable, the half dozen or more arrows hadn't seemed to slow it down. He had fought Shrieks before but not like this one. Even as Bren slashed the beasts stomach open the wounds closed within moments healed.
He rolled about, coming to the opposite side of the Shriek. He attacked together with Bren, slicing him up from two directions. He thrashed heavily, lopping an arm off. In attack he screamed at the demon, "where is Harwick?"
A beastly claw wrapped around his neck in a flash. Ferrik swore he had cut it off moments before.
"Here comes the Betrayer..." whispered the demon to his ears, then Ferrik was flying through the air from a mighty throw. Leaving Bren alone within the demon's reach.
Bren swung his axe trying to get a decent blow. The creature had healed almost immediately but Bren had to wonder if it could heal back from being cleaved in two. With Ferrik’s help they were keeping the thing on the defensive. He watched as Ferrik lopped off the creature’s arm..Only to have it grow back almost immediately. The creature grabbed and threw the man hard.
Bren moved fast using the moment of distraction to close the distance. He swung his axe down hard cutting past the Shriek’s shoulders and through his chest. The blade went halfway through moving at a downward angle before stopping. Bren grunted trying to pull it out but it was stuck fast, lodged against the bone. He didn’t know if the shriek was still alive all he was focusing on was getting his axe out in case he was.
The shriek fell to it's knees, deep black ink-like blood pooling on the ground. Then a vicious roar filled the air, not an attack just a beast in pain. It thrashed wildly against Bren and his axe, trying to dislodge the weapon and attack at the same time. Ferrik was hurrying to rising hurriedly to help Bren out, but Robin was too tired and injured to be confidence in his archery - he'd no doubt hit Bren instead.
“So you can feel pain, can you monster?” Bren said through gritted teeth as he pulled at the axe. He winced as he felt the shriek’s claws rake his arms. One hand came free of the handle before crashing against the shriek’s face like a hammer. Putting his boot against the creature’s shoulder he gave one final heave and the axe broke free. He could see the wound beginning to heal as he swung his axe for another go.
The blade sank into the creature’s neck severing the connection between its head and body. Bren watched the creature fall before sinking to the ground himself casting his axe aside as he knelt on his knees his hands clutching the ground. He felt winded beyond belief, why was it so damnably hard to breathe all of a sudden? He was panting but still couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He just needed a few moments to rest, the fight was over after all.
....
...
Urgh... Urgh.... Urgh...
A wheezing sound filled the air... something in pain. It morphed into a harsh cackle as the head began to reform. "You are a ferocious warrior, I can tell you have fought many demons." The Shriek eyed Bren carefully, "you took off my head, it shall be a pleasure to return the favour."
From somewhere nearby Robin fired an arrow into the demon, before falling to his knees clutching cut forearms. "You'll have my full attention once more soon, are you out of arrows?" Inquired the demon, mocking.
Ferrik had been closing in on the demon, but something had been eating away at his mind since the battle had begun. He snarled, "Where is Harwick?"
"That fool? I would not know, looting some corpse as you humans do." Ferrik shook his head more to himself then anyone else, Harwick would want to be here to witness Robin's demise after having plotted the man's downfall for a long time. Unless Harwick had been detained elsewhere - this was another part of the plan, something Ferrik did not know about. "I am sure he'd have liked to have become aware of to your betrayal; as I told him would happen long ago. Idiot man would not believe it. I wonder when you decided this path..."
"He started to conspire with demons-" Ferrik was cut off as the demon spoke loudly.
"What is when you poisoned Robin's wife, I remember you being quite reserved at that meeting afterward." The demon smiled and didn't need to watch the glances between the two men; he reveled in their anguish all the same.
"You!" Shouted Robin, voice of a madmen. He lifted his pain-tore arms up, suddenly finding strength to draw one last arrow back. Ferrik eyed the arrow for a moment before attempting to scurry away. Robin's aim was a wild shaking thing but followed the fleeing man all the same. Ferrik flung himself to the ground but even as he did he felt the arrow pierce his skin. Grimacing he rolled over clutching his thigh where the arrow protruded from. He swore to himself
Even as arrow flew, the Shriek King was talking once more. Not to anyone present, but the one hiding nearby, "A lucky shot with that Knife, Celeste," his whisper carrying to her ears, compelling her out in the open once more. "With that secret out, perhaps you would tell them all who your master is..." Wishing to reek more havoc and pain on this band of humans.
"My... My "Master" is hardly relevant, don't you think?" she spat out defensively, tone more criticizing than an unarmed girl, dragging behind a dying body, 'aught to be.
"Hell, as far as you're concerned, I'm my own master!" she hissed out, finally making some sense out of Peter's words, as they encouraged her. "I've always had a strong aversion to demons, but I will never forgive the death of the wine seller's wife," she hissed, her voice softening at the mention of the unsaid name, accusing eyes searching for Robin.
"You saw the body of her, I'd wondered if Harwick had been lying all along." The Demon commented thoughtfully.
"And my assigner may as well be shot to hell, since I'm not about to kill Robin for the likes of you," she concluded, suddenly feeling very, very misplaced in the scene. All at once, the tension in her heart unclouded and she had to ask herself how she got so involved in the first place.
"But we're not really here to chat over my loyalty, are we dear?" she asked, her all-knowing smile returning to the muddied face. "So, what is it you need? All this bloodshed over one man seems a bit exaggerated, considering that he's not even dead. But I'm sure we could come to some sort of compromise, with a sacrifice or two," she said, all the while brushing the endless dust off her knee, before staring with a silent understanding, at the King Shriek.
"A shame you are no longer desiring to kill him, I'm sure a nice stab to the chest will finish him off. He's too weak to fight back, look he even has a knife in his belt." He laughed then at her words then. "Oh, this is only my own fun, a thorn in my side for years Robin has been. I had always planned to invade this puny settlement and burn it to the ground."
"The only compromise you'll have now is if you submit to me, become a slave to my new order. Otherwise it is death for you once these others are done." Grinned the demon, "of course, someone else might take offense at your failure to kill Robin. And who am I to stop the bloodshed of slaves."
"I'll have to admit I'm a bit disappointed. Not the kind of behavior I expected of a King," she spat accusingly, quite literally spitting at the ground.
"Demons are supposed to be the most terrifying, the most overpowering creatures, are they not? And yet you've lost your head and muddied your hands over one man and you still can't see the reward in human suffering," she shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.
"You've already dug your claws in, seen through to the death of his wife, a failed attempt at redemption, and now you're holding him at brink. Wouldn't it be righteous of you to finish the job? You really journeyed here to end the life of a man, who has long been dead?" she asked, circling around the mass of corpses, until the demon fully obstructed her view of Robin.
"I guess you're not as twisted as the human mind can be," she shrugged.
"And killing me, or even keeping me as a slave, would just ruin the thrill of the chase, when my assigner's bandits sniff me out. You sure would save me a great deal of hiding and disguise, for an equally as evil job, now that I know you're a softie," she shrugged.
"Besides, you've already killed the woman I loved, outted me out as a traitor to my kind, and you'll soon kill the one man whose life would single-handedly damn mine. But continue to find satisfaction in one mesely death, that would in return solve such great problems, my almighty King."
He'd long been out of touch of the human world, it seemed, for not all were as submitting to his will as Harwick. Many had been tainted with darkness, like this woman's probing words. "Enough! Look around you, the town burns, the people scream. By morning little will remain of the town."
"As King I will end Robin's life, like he has slaughtered my kind!" He snarled. He looked at Bren, the only warrior still standing and able to fight, "Once I'm done with him - I'll be coming for you, you won't need to be worried about being hunted."
"W-Why wait?" she asked abruptly, if not with a hint of panic. Working on instinct was one thing, but she'd always been terrible at buying them more time.
"I never even got a fair shot at you- You at least owe me that, don't you?" she asked, mind scrambling for more excuses.
"If I were you, I'd do the loudmouth in first, whatever it takes to get them to shut up, right?" she asked nervously, shifting in place.
"This is why I shouldn't have gotten so damned involved," she thought hastily.
Provoked once more, the Shriek King turned about, unleashing his screams upon her. Afterward his words to her echoed about, "is that what you wanted!"
As the pain intensified in her one unmute ear, an almost equally as terrifying scream matched it. Suddenly confused at her disposition on the ground, her body writhed, trying to release itself of the pain.
"Yes!" she gasped, teeth gritted behind the mass of black hair. She had managed to prop herself up at her elbow, but after a few moments of struggle, she too gave in.
Pleased at her struggles, the demon's eyes glinted onto Bren's once more, "I've given you enough time to think back on your life."
Dammit! That monster was still alive?! He had watched its head fall from its shoulder and here he was taunting him. He watched still struggling for air as the demon played the others against themselves. As he wheezed his fingers slowly moved towards the hilt of his axe, if he could just get it in time he might be able to strike him. His fingers were just about to graze it when he felt an iron grip wrap around his throat. His eyes bulged out as he suddenly felt his windpipe crushed. He felt himself lifted up into the air, his legs flailing inches from the ground. He could feel his vision already dimming, a hot surge of anger filled him with effort he focused his dimming vision at the demon.
He raised one meaty fist and slammed it against the demon’s face with all his might. They both went tumbling to the ground, Bren scarcely had a chance to catch his breath when the shriek moved trying to again strangle him. They both tumbled in the dirt fighting bare handed. He landed blow after blow against the demon’s face as they struggled but he couldn’t know how much damage he was doing, while he himself felt winded and tied beyond belief, but he refused to give up even as the demon cracked one of his ribs.
They struggled neither managing to get the advantage over the other. Bren had managed to get on top of the demon his hand around his throat while the demon's hand sunk around his. Neither could apply a full grip without making themselves vulnerable to the other. The Shriek King stared up with hate in his eyes and screamed. The full force of the scream hit Bren overwhelming him with pain a shriek of pain stuck in his throat His hands went to his head desperately trying to stop the pain, the shriek screamed harder knowing his opponent could not last much longer.
His moved by instinct alone his mind too full of pain for coherent thought. He swung at the demon his fist smashing against the creatures open mouth. He felt the skin of his knuckles tear as he shattered several of the demon’s teeth. The King’s scream became a surprised gurgle both from the pain and from the blood now flooding his throat. Bren raised his fist again smashing it against the demon's skull his his mind no longer capable of thought. He heard a loud crack but could not tell if it was his hand or the creature’s jaw breaking.
The demon began to scream again but could not muster up the same level of power. Bren rained blow after blow at the creature’s head and the scream became more disjointed and more of pain. He screamed a roaring scream of his own drowning out the demon, filling the air with his hate and pain, all the while his fists came down again…and again…and again. The hardness of the demon's skull had given away to a moist softness by the time Bren finally stopped.
He looked down at the pulpy mass that had once been the Shriek King’s face his breath ragged. He coughed and blood came from his mouth, his head was throbbing, and for some damnable reason he couldn’t stop shaking. More blood came from his mouth and he felt his stomach heave, he held it down afraid of what might come out.
He felt himself falling his head hit the ground with a thud. He was now laying beside the demon on his back struggling to breath. Hiss vision was blurry the edges black and it was hard to focus on anything. His mind felt disjointed from his body as his breadth became more ragged his lungs burning with a need for air that wasn't coming.
After the battle was done, Robin found the strength to rise once more. His bow clattered from his hands as he stumbled over to where his wife now lay. Saved from the burning building by Celeste her life was continuing to fade, and she would die soon. Despite his wounds he lifted her into his arms, accepting no help from the others.
A truce was formed between Ferrik and Robin, a silent thing done out of need left unspoken. Ferrik was helped by young Robbie, as he limped with the arrow in his leg. Ferrik wasn't sure how the young man had survive but was happy for the help.
His other remaining warriors helped the others who were wounded up. Before any other demons could arrive they fled the city.
~
As they fled the burning city, the slain body of the shriek king began to bulge. Figures began to form and rise, monstrous beasts only half human-like. Horned and bloody they rose screaming for vengeance against those that had slain their father.
The horde was born of the shriek corpse, and they began to follow the others out of town.
~
Halfway up the hill, the bloodthirsty demons arrived. Running on fours they would reach the group before they could reach the cart. There was many of them looking for blood, there was little chance to escape.
~
Another insect, bathed in sorrow, pinned down by her thumb. She could barely feel its minute body as it gave way beneath the pressure. Unsurprisingly, the act brought no peace of mind, a stark change from the norm. With Peter squirming on his bed, little more powerful than the bug she’d trapped, it was impossible to escape the truth of their situation.
“Everyone…” she mumbled to herself, spare hand rising to scrub her face despite the lack of tears, “So many… dead.”
Their lives had been put on the line for nothing. Marian, her friend, now likely gone. Robin would be a tortured soul, and rightly so.
…Rightly so; the demon’s plot would leave nothing left for her.
“…Everyone,” she repeated, not realising that the words had escaped her mouth mere moments before. She lived only in the present, unable to deal with the past, too uncertain about their future. Just the slow tick of an unseen clock as the battle played out below them, counting down the seconds that plagued her mind with doubt.
How long had it been? Impossible to tell.
The sun had not inched across the sky, and yet it seemed quieter below already.
Quieter.
She spoke too soon.
Screeches ransacked the hillside, curdling the air and stealing Victoria’s attention. Wind caught her hair as she whipped around to stare, the events of the slope laid before like a nightmare. Pure dread, a punch to the gut, forbidding her of breath.
Her first thought was to gather Peter and flee. Her second was to grab something for defence. Either was futile and both ignored the struggling party that tried to climb its way up the hill.
She took a deep breath – hands quivered – and then the ground shook as she slowly turned her palms skyward. Pain shot through her stomach as the soil morphed to her wishes, falling into a canyon-like fissure behind her comrade’s feet. Agony blinding, she worked in an apathetic state. Her actions followed instinct, an innate care for the hopeless. Her heart felt nothing sincere, only emotions she knew should be there. Her true nature was kept subdued by shock but her mind remembered its will.
Hope had seemed lost, the army of marching hellish beasts had nearly came upon them. They were slow in moving, with most of them injured and helping each other. But there was relief when the earth began to suddenly shift, those that looked behind saw a great chasm form. Splitting the earth into descending deep into the ground.
Wails followed the falling of the hell beasts as they descended down into the dark abyss below.
On the hill’s crest, Victoria fell to her knees. The metallic of blood shot through her mouth. With a whimper, pain caused her to crumple to the ground.
Epilogue
Beyond the Burial
With the wounded crowding the back, donkeys lead the cart away from the burning town. Those that were capable walked alongside but the pace was slow not to leave any behind. There was a small divide in the survivors, Ferrik's group were left alone by Robin – and the man himself was not even glanced upon. Fleeing the town they noticed others escaping too but they kept to themselves and scurried away from the larger group.
Before the night began to set Robin called them to rest and make camp. Though in pain and weary, he could not rest yet knowing Marian had not been lain to rest yet. She had passed during their escape, the stoneskin finally sapping what remained of her life away. Robin found no tears as he looked at her in his ears, only regrets and unspoken words. He carried her away from the cart, down some unknown path to a tree.
There he dug a shallow pit in soft earth; he placed Marian inside and knelt by her. Robin sought some words to say, a farewell to her, but nothing came from his lips. He thought, and thought. But in the end lifted his spade to cover her with dirt.
Robin found himself later, shoveling furiously with tears streaming down his face. He just wished to cover her, so he couldn't see her anymore. He was babbling, apologising, and finding words now she was gone that he couldn't say when she had been alive.
Marian's cold face stared back at him as he whispered of Victoria and the child, he thought her damning him then. Robin covered her completely and whispered, “I love you.”
Just another unmarked grave in the wilderness, Robin turned his back. But, suddenly he felt she was then truly gone. Robin screamed out, “fuck!”
Despite the tired arms, he smashed the spade against the tree, it snapping from the force. Afterward he fell down against the trunk sobbing.
~~
At the camp Robin's scream could be heard. Ferrik's eyes were drawn to the ground. His leg was still in pain underneath the bandages but he knew it was time to move on. Robin would soon return, and Ferrik didn't want to be there after the man had just said goodbye to his dead wife.
Limping over to his small group, he patted Iula on the shoulder and pointed out Robbie. When the warrior went off to collect the young man, he told the others they were leaving. They had a long way to go if they wanted to challenge Harwick at all.
Robbie stared upon the asleep body of his old rival. He resisted the tugging on his shoulder for sometime. But knowing Peter wouldn't awake any time soon he allowed himself to be drawn away.
Not speaking important words.
The small band left before Robin could return, limping off into the night to find their own camp.
It was a rather... ugly night.
Nothing of the odd scenery of what they came to pass added up to it... but the feelings that harbored within his heart were more than enough to defile his victory.
That and the fact there were little stars around. He hated it.
Clouds gathered around the little sparkles that actually did bothered to appear, along with the moon, landing huge shadow all over him.
Around him he heard the voices of his companions, but their frequent silence was more than enough noise to eat at his empty heart.
Bah.
Nathaniel felt it was rather crowded, which meant he did the thing he ought to have done which was to pull himself away with a nice huge cup of ale to kill everything inside him, emotions, feelings and thoughts until it was too dark for his eyes to see anything aside of numbness.
Some distance away he found a nice isolated meadow. His steps made light sound upon the sand and plants, and once he reached there, he turned to sit down and lean back against a decaying old tree, far from any noise or sobbing. He passed a swift hand into his lovely hair, fixing it before moving his fingers over the top of the glass, the wind creating melody upon the grass. He sap up the red wine, which lingered slowly around his chin and neck.
Emotionally weak and disgust with himself, he knew for sure he looked horrible. Oh well, it was rather dark night, no one was going to see him like that.
A thought that proved itself wrong in the passing moments.
“Nathaniel?” A voice called out; female, gentle, but tired more than anything.
Startled he fixed himself, sitting down, however more alerted, slowly putting the glass next to him, as he looked at the woman before him, "Victoria?".
Victoria, despite the numbness in her heart and the ache of her body, felt nervous when she noticed him leave alone. She had not expected him to stay for as long as he did nor could have guessed he would help them retake the town. The man had fulfilled all of what she had expected from his superficial smile, and none of what her instincts warned her of. He was a curious character and not one she wished to miss the chance to say ‘Goodbye’.
Her eyes had watched him walk away and realised that those minutes might be their last.
“Nathaniel?” she called out again, unable to see him in the darkness of the night, “Are you leaving now?”
"Right now?", he said, lifting his hands to his sides, allowing her to see he was comfortably fixed upon his location. But the last thing he wanted to do was answering to her like a bastard, so he spread his lips into a lovely smile, "Alas no. I am here... enjoying... the... darkness I presume would be the best answer", his smile was bitter, but he hoped she wouldn't take notice of this as he lifted his mug and offered to her a sip of the wine, "Care for a drink?", he asked her.
Although she jumped when he first spoke, her body relaxed knowing that he was not running from their presence. Feet trod lightly on the dishevelled soil, picking carefully amongst the meadow’s plants and rocky ground. Towards the drink, she raised a hand to refuse the offer. Her mother had warned against drinking whilst bearing child; although likely to be superstition, she would take no chances. And even then, it wasn’t the true reason for the shake of her head…
“I don’t need it,” she spoke honestly. In her heart, he knew exactly what she needed.
Alcohol would not sway her from that stance.
“You will be gone soon then?"
"Yeah... Tomorrow morning... I don't feel like staying here...".
He could have just played around it, but he was tired and he actually did want company.
"Come", he tapped on the ground beside him, "Sit beside me...", his eyes glitter softly and a honest smile.
Although she wanted to believe his innocence, it was difficult to play dumb when she saw the glint within his gaze. Subconsciously, her lips turn upwards in response, although she dropped the emotion quickly. Blush tickled her cheeks as she lowered herself by his side, their skin almost brushing in the intimacy of their positions. She already felt the heaviness of the night’s play lifting.
It was obvious why she was acting as she did. The man would once again by her escape, a chance to play while the devils danced around them. A moment to forget that there was more to life than ecstasy and the present moment. She told herself that she would not spend long within his company, but easily recognised her own lies.
Her heart was dead within her chest. Her soul had been bruised and warped.
She needed… comfort. That was all, in whatever form came easiest that night.
“I do not wish to speak of this evening. I would rather forget it all if I could.”
Nathaniel hummed as his fingers tipped the sides of her hips. He moved behind her, as quick as a snake would, exposing her nape as he breathed against her, feeling weak shivers from her as his lips briefly brushed against her spine.
Tell me to stop...
It was not right. He knew it, but her smell was has urged him to sniff her. Just like that. Close... so close...
He rested his chin over her shoulder, "I need you...", he whispered near her left ear, "I need you...".
Tell me to stop...
His grip went higher along the lines of her ribs, playing tricks upon her warm belly. Her skin was so soft it was almost begging him to touch it. Kneading, hungry fingers wrapped her, sent from behind as his heaving chest was raised against her back.
It felt warm... like that...
At first, she stayed tense, surprised, thoughts unwillingly lingering on Robin and reason holding her back. The battle had formed cracks, however, in such a sensible façade. The want, the lust, drew her in; he was willing to hold her close, and that would be enough for the hours before dawn.
Then she felt his lips planting kisses over her nape which followed by soft shivers.
“Nathan-…” The whispered words faded to silence as she leaned back, enjoying the caress of delicate precision from his fingertips. Her hand searched behind and came to rest on his leg, stroking further up his thigh with each moment that she grew lost in the intimacy.
He hushed her with a soft hiss while his lips turned around her neck, his legs gripping her form closer to him as they were raised just to allow her hands a better approach to his body. With each pet she sent for his laps, he felt himself losing control. His eyes closed as he continued to kiss her neck, with each movement of his lips, his form turned around her, until her rested her down on the earth, his hands reach over her lovely chest and over her arms in gentle, yet somewhat rough hold.
He heard her breathing, moaning, pleading, her body urging him and he exhaled in return. He tried to control himself, but that woman just rose within him such passion he never thought a woman could ever make him feel so. She was gentle yet powerful in her own way, a rare beauty of a flower he had yet to see.
He leaned down, wanting to feel her against him, closer and closer as he continued to taste her neck and ears, biting softly, and licking, his hands moving on the sides of her body.
The fingers of one hand moved through his hair; she provided no force - only suggestion - that he should move his attention lower down. Each flick from his tongue set her skin on fire with longing. She held back as much she could, too unsure to take the initiative against such a compelling man. Restraint did not come easy; the quiet moans betrayed true emotions. Her free hand fiddled, slowly beginning to unfasten her dress, but hesitated. It was all too tempting to savour the moment, the only one she would likely have with the man before her.
Never the less, waiting longer was not an option, at least not for Nathaniel. He found himself folding his hands around hers, helping her to undress while he still crouched above her. He set, arching her against him so he could lean his head and have a better look on what was behind her back, all the while still pressing and moving his fingers and lips. When he felt the clothing was less tight he made her lie down again, enjoying the slow movement of dress over skin, tempting it to remove it fully.
One sleeve after another, he made sure to devour her fingers and taste them, each at a time, as he helped himself out of his shirt. Bare chest against her own, he leaned down and lifted her chin, lingering on the place there as he breathed heavily, again, trying to hold himself, taking a step at a time...
Maybe hoping that she would shove him away from her...
But she was just so warm to resist...
A kiss... and another... a grip... loosing...
Such emotional storms...
With him above, she shifted to wrap her legs around his hips, skin electric against the other. His touch and scent was enough to overwhelm her senses; they did not need to exchange words, simply enjoying the pleasurable company. The chill of the evening sent shivers down her spine as she pulled her dress further down her body, but the heat of their play was a comfort against such harshness.
His hands moved across her – skilful, bold – and the outside world melted beyond her care.
She was intimidated by him, in truth, nervous before such manipulative charm and rugged demeanour. Yet as he continued, she grew eager, wishing to prove some worth upon the miserable earth. Her fingers caressed more intimate areas, his trousers feeling surprisingly thin against her touch.
“a goddess-…”, he whispered into her ear, her body a work of art that he as lord of sins had to admire and taste.
There was no stopping then.
Everything was removed by that time and between each moan, shivering, shifting and husky breathing he found himself unable to resist her. Tonight she was going to be his goddess. He rejoiced at this thought as he hoped to have all of her, and even when the two bodies melted into one it felt to him like it was not enough.
More and more he drove into her skin and flesh as she awoke more things inside of him, showing her small sweet tricks as he eagerly poured his own secrets into their union and by this time the hunger was unbearable.
Yet...
As they both took a quick glance at each other eyes...
They knew for sure it was worth satisfying...
Maybe they could have said more but their laughter and soft whimpers was enough to say it all.
***
"Join me", Nathaniel said as he petted her head, still making sure she was leaning over him comfortably, "When I leave tomorrow..."
This moment was their alone, short as it may seem... but... the greed was still there along with the lost.
He felt it was not right to ask again, and he just looked up at the stars, knowing what her answer will be.
She shifted – moving slowly in her worthwhile exhaustion - so that she could look up at him as he spoke. A small smile played across her lips. “I would be tempted if it meant we could do that again,” she murmured soft, a voice so sweet and innocent, a deceitful charade as she had just proved.
He smiled as looked down at her and kissed her forehead, "Yeah... you are damn good... I might have to see if I can arrange another meeting with you...", his words halted and he seemed to be occupied by his thoughts, "So...", he tried to think of a way to guide her to answer, "Will you?"
“O-okay…”
The reply slipped from her before she had time to think of its consequences, her heart only yearning for release from duty and misery. Her mind flitted to the first two men that she had loved, both of whom had left her alone while she rested; was it foolish to trust that he wouldn’t do the same? There’s might not be anything more than lust, but it was a closeness she could appreciate.
Again he kissed her forehead, "Okay... Sleep tight... we talk more in the morning...".
Although he smiled it was a fake one, he knew the real answer. She hesitated... which means something... or someone was holding her back...
Oh well...
At least she made the night a bit more pleasant.
***
Victoria
I'm leaving now...
As for how long...
I am not sure myself..
Maybe we will meet again?
Maybe not...
Be happy...
For it is the only thing I can give to you...
Maybe... sometimes in the future... I will be able to give you more...
But of right now... We part ways here...
Live strong and happy...
For me too...
***
It was an early dawn when Nathaniel felt the wind blowing away tips of golden hair against his face. He was, for the first time in his life, unsure.
But free.
He smiled as he took a deep breath, Victoria's scent still lingered around him.
In some levels he wished it could have ended otherwise...
But today was not a victory to him
"Let us go, Qadir", he waved at the loyal servant who nodded with a soft bow of his head. Upon a black lovely horse Nathaniel was seated.
In a form of a god he was now to explore the world anew.
For how long?
Only time will tell.
*The following morning*
The pain had not left Robin in the morning; his bandaged arms aching had awoken him. Underneath his blanket the other pains returned too, the ones in heart alongside the physical. All he wanted to do was watch the clouds cross the sky for a time. But hunger and a growing sense of uncomfortable stiffness was urging him to rise. He found something meagre in their dwindled supplies that didn't satisfy him at all.
He sat waiting for the others to rise, feeling no more the leader of the group. Lost without the urgency of the quest in him his thoughts now came forth. Muddled, and twisting about one another as they were. Robin would have been happy for distraction but they were of his troubles.
He thought of Victoria, though unwillingly and feeling shamed. How could he consider being anything with her so soon after Marian's death. A part of him argued that he had decided to leave his wife before, after learning of the child. They hadn't spoken too much since then, not since Swanheart Hill. But he'd barely spoken since then to anyone.
When the cart had been set off for wherever they were headed to; Robin wandered along a little behind, wishing to talk to her.
For a time, Victoria was oblivious to his presence, so caught up in her own thoughts that she paid no heed to the environment. The innocence of a glance behind was destroyed when she caught his eye. Spinning back round to face front, playing it off as a need to pay attention to the mules, the tension settled thick upon the air.
He breathed inward as their eyes met, though brief it was. Robin tried to smile, made to call out to her but then her back was to him once more. He let her name die before he could utter it aloud, she did not want to talk. But his own thoughts were maddening, driving him to say something. But he didn't know what.
"Victoria," he mumbled, coming up beside her. He meant to talk to her alone, he tried to keep his words quiet. Robin fought to find some words to continue with and muttered out, "... are you well this morning?"
“I-…” she stuttered, caught off guard at how quick he was to approach her. Images flashed back, remembering the last hours, blush colouring her cheeks almost instantly. Hopefully, he would assume it for a different reason than the truth, “-…I’m well enough… considering…”
The rest of her sentence was left unheard, no need for it to be voiced. They were all aware of the darkness shrouding them. She had found release for them, a secret fall into temptation, but there were many nights left that she would need to survive. It would be harder alone, for both of them. “Are you okay?” she asked, finding genuine care returning to her tone. Her heart had been melted and with it came her former self.
"Considering... yes," Robin said, his sounding like he didn't know what he meant let along what she was talking about. He walked onward, not looking at her now unknowing what to say.
He took some time to reply, wallowing in grief as he was. Finally he admitted, "... no." Even with that simple word his control was wavering. He carried on, however, "I'm... not dealing with anything. Even knowing she had little chance to start with.... it is not the same."
“I know… really, I do…” she murmured. Their conversation lacked all energy, no joy to wrap their gifts of words.
Her hands fiddled awkwardly with the reins, “I don’t expect anything other…”
"I loved her, but she's gone." He said, his words half followed on from hers and were half spoken thoughts. "I don't know.... it is... wrong."
Rather then face the path of them, he said in slow soft voice as if afraid to wake something terrifying, "beneath all the confusion, anger waits. I know it's coming, but I don't want to be that."
“It won’t help,” she said simply, “But I know that won’t stop you.”
Shifting on her seat, she made room for him to move up next to her, “Do you still wish for revenge?”
Robin wanted to curse something, anything but let it go with a shake of his head, "I cannot stop it, they took away what could." It all came back to her, dammit, he thought angrily. "I do, but I don't want it.... there will be more bloodshed then. Look what this little quest did. The anger.... it will be like it once was..... then... I don't think I will ever be the same."
All she could do was give a broken-hearted smile, “That will be… difficult for some of us to watch.” She took steadying breath as her hands began to tremble, a device to off-put tears and lessen nerves, “I meant it when I said that I would be here should you wish for me.”
"it would be difficult to bare." He replied sadly.
His heart gave a traitorous flutter of anticipation, forcing Robing to remind himself of Marian. But, he wondered, if she meant in the same way he needed. It felt like opening a gate to something, that. Even if it might be untrue. Fuck it, he thought savagely at himself, he didn't care if people talked or about the voices of shame in the back of his head. "I do wish for you," he echoed her words.
She felt happiness, followed by a façade of guilt forced upon her mind through her persistent morality. The tone of his voice could be noted; his stance was clear to any whom wished to see it. A large part of her dreamed of staying oblivious, but she was too old for such games. Too old if not yet wise.
“As a friend or as other, I could not leave you to deal with this alone,” she said softly, “Time heals slowly and, until then, I can be there.”
He looked away to the side, his face turning down. Sudden hopes destroyed leaving him in his grief once more, foolish to turn away from it. To turn away from Marian, even if he had done so before.
"I hope there will be time to heal," Robin said, his voice was befit of any such hopes.
“There’s always time,” she murmured, “as long as you allow for it.”
It would be impossible to draw him from his misery – That emotion would be what sustained him while he grieved. For now, she had to keep them moving forward, “All I ask is that our child does not suffer for this mess.”
Our. Her words caught behind a lump in her throat, quietening her to sudden silence.
Their child, he remembered. Involuntarily he glanced at her stomach, softly he asked, "how are you feeling?"
He couldn't know for sure, but no doubt he'd be a hunted man now. And someone could come after any family he had. Resolved, he said "no, I won't allow that to happen. I'll do anything for them not to suffer."
“As will I,” she agreed firmly, “Although my power is limited, they say a mother’s strength knows no bounds.” Both emotionally and physically, she would be their guardian. If she had to kill to keep them safe, she would do it in a heartbeat. Strange how she knew that already.
“I feel… healthy,” she said, “No more pain than you’d expect, considering how I exerted myself.”
Her heart pounded nervously, “I love him - or her – so much. It may sound crazy, but I was so scared I would lose them in this whole ordeal."
"It doesn't."
Guilt washed about his thoughts, having dragged her into this from the beginning. Having sought to use their friendship to aid him on the quest, to abuse her magic if he'd needed to. But that was before he'd known, but Robin didn't feel any better for it. He had used so many people. "I brought you into all this."
It was the same attitude – the same demeanour – that had first been revealed to her that night.
Shadows were thrown at length across the room, playing out the silhouettes of bodies on the opposite wall. Dusk settled upon the world but went unnoticed by the two. Their eyes had better things to be viewing than the sky outside. Clothes lay scattered on the floor, dishevelled in their rush to be discarded. They only added to the mess of the interior. Untidy, for they had not known what would be happening there that evening, not until it’d happened.
No time to stop, to think. Forms sought another instinctually. Lust, the puppeteer between the sheets. Guilt was afterthought before the ecstasy of touch, so long desired across her skin. She breathed deep, the sound a drawn-out moan of pleasure as he played with all the gifts the gods had given him. Steam and sweat, the caress of fingers stifled as her nails dug gently in his skin, begging him for more.
Tempo quickened. The time was not short, but all too quickly it was over.
The pants of satisfaction followed only by the dread of realisation.
“I should have never dragged you into this.”
…Was that what he had said? Memory grew hazy and she had barely paid attention. She only remembered the imprint of his tone, the steeled regret of a man who had knowingly done wrong, the same he used today.
“You did,” she whispered, “but I don’t hate you for it.”
Her words grew stronger, “Next time, I will know to be more careful and less blinded.”
"I do not know how you don't," he said, thinking of the struggles that had developed over the journey, about the night she had spoken of their secret and the past. She seemed to harden, resolved not to let herself be drawn down those paths again. Robin still added, "I won't ever drag you into my problems like this again."
“Words that come just a little too late,” she mused, not meaning it unkindly as she rubbed her stomach. “Everything will be fine eventually, Robin. Trust me on that much at least.”
"I will," he muttered and stared down the road.
The silence grew heavy as they both left the other to dwell in thoughts.
She did not know his musings and nor did she wish to delve into such darkness. Her mind was broken enough on its own. Nathaniel, gone. Robin, twisted in her… lies.
Our.
Strange how such a simple word could hold so much deceit.
The promise of a child, that much was true.
The promise that he was the father…
Well, loneliness has brought out the worst in her, it seemed.
It was night, days later.
The mug left his lips falling to the ground to hit stone. He didn't care, he was done with it all. Ferrik didn't even know where they were, some sheltered farmers home outside the war zone. With the occupants long gone hey had plundered the place, gathering supplies. While Ferrik drank.
Vaguely he was aware of walking around the sleeping forms of his companions, to stare at the sleeping woman. Ferrik shook her awake and commander her in a low voice, "come with me, Ebb."
They walked outside to the barn, Ferrik staggering on drunk legs as well as limping. He lent on a pillar rubbing his forehead, thinking with eyes closed. "What is this for?" Ebb asked irritably. Perhaps he had been standing there for some time.
"Yes, I wonder that myself," Ferrik replied sharply. "I look at them, the three that remain.... and look back to what we were..."
"To a time of indecision and guilt."
"If is better then having nothing! What was a little guilt, compared to being a dead man? I don't think he'll leave me to work against his empire long. Should have just continued on with Harwick." He mumbled, "better then being caught up in some Angel ploy..."
She struck him in the stomach bowling him over. Ebb stared down at him, "so you know."
"What other thing can come in and read myself and others so well.." He laughed from the earth staring up at her. Ebb watched him, grim faced. "Lead me down a path of death."
She opened her mouth, but Ferrik interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Ask the question, I know you've been waiting."
Ebb glared down at him, she kicked him in the side. "Everyone else thinks she is dead, you and I know different. Where is the wine sellers wife?"
Ferrik laughed.
"You don't know." He smiled, "you don't know, because she isn't one of yours is she? You need me to tell you. But I won't. I won't."
"I'll die before I tell you."
Extraordinaire.
06-25-2012, 03:37 PM
In the early hours of morning, Peter woke suddenly, it wasn't like the previous times where he came to half in delusions. With clarity his eyes stared at the cloud filled sky, though his strength had not fully regained he knew he could act.
While others slept, he rose. Peter looked over the survivors sadly, knowing of the losses to the group and feeling those in his heart. But he couldn't think too long on it, with the pain was lurking beneath his thoughts, there was something he needed to do. Even if all thought them dead, he would find his family.
Somewhere along the journey he had lost all his weapons, he'd defend himself somehow he reasoned. Whatever meagre possessions he had left he collected and departed the camp, heading back toward the town.
Celeste didn't wake for many hours after the battle and it took even longer for her to pick herself up. Having missed the climax of the event, she started to crawl around, feeling her way around the corpse-laid battle field for some sense of familiarity. The first friend she found was Bren, who with a shudder, she quickly let go of. Thinking back to his position during the fight, she was able to chart out where the bodies of the other's should lay. Lifting weakly to a crouch, she immediately spotted the demon king, as another rush of confusion swarmed her; Robin was nowhere to be found and she could only guess where he could be.
So that was it. They'd won, partially. The king shriek had fallen, she only assumed Robin's wife had passed, and found no other traces from the others in their quest.
Celeste herself transitioned from hobbling to crawling, sorely nursing her ruined ankle. She was unsure of where to go, of how to get up and move on after the past few events, or the ones to come. Of course the initial buds of hope were trampled when she realize that the hunt wasn't over. The hunt was never over, a vow she's come quite accustomed to in her old business.
She found herself in front of the partial remains of a bakery's window. The smell of burning bread and mildew were stronger than ever, but she stood there, trying to hold her gaze steady on her reflection. She looked on the verge of tears, as if the greying eyes were trapped at the brink of silence. She held the useless dagger in hand, giving herself a long look before continuing.
Pathetic.
It wasn't until she began to slice away at the first few strands of hair, until she could really feel her face moisten, her stomach burning more room for the anxiety to build up. She had no more than a few inches left when she was done, the unevenness from the dull blade exemplified by the wettened hair.
One of her false lenses had already torn, creating a streak of the natural grey from beneath the light brown. She rubbed her eyes for a moment until each irritated lens fell out and were discarded slowly. Head still clouded and ablur, she crawled a few feet back to the scene and maintained her position on the ground, camouflaging with the dead. It seemed strange when she said it, her voice clear despite her dazed mind. It sounded so outrageous that it seemed silly when she addressed the man, but she was also filled with a childish happiness.
"Peter."
Despite the potential danger he'd made it through the town unharmed, seeing no one but for a few scavengers. Seems like the attackers had left during the night, or were perhaps just waiting out the morning. His home was on the other side of town, and crossing through was the quickest way to get there.
He was shocked to here his name called, a voice he hadn't thought to hear again. "Celeste?" He questioned, scanning the field of bodies. He spied a person still moving and rushed to her side, despite having cut hair and her eyes... it was her. "Celeste.... the others said you had died. I'm glad they were wrong, you are injured..."
"Here," he offered his hand to help her up, "we should get out of here quick, I don't think it is safe here.
"I can't," she said light heartedly, laughing at how simple it sounded.
Nonetheless, she took advantage of her help and hoisted herself up, cautiously glancing around her. The dark sky and smoke proved enough of a cover, but also had her paranoia whacking out at every shadowed figure.
"They're coming for me," she sighed, shaking her head at him. She couldn't tell if his return was more naive or admirable. He'd admitted to her before the fight that his family was done in, though, so she couldn't imagine why he would return. Was Robin still alive?
"Who is?" Peter asked softly, she seemed on edge. Even more then he was inside the now dangerous town. "I know a safe place," he said, urging her to come with him.
"It's not far, just outside town. We can rest there for a little bit," he explained. Going home, but for a different reason. He had only wanted confirmation that they were gone. But now, he may have a reason to open his father's old storage room up. "If need be, we can fight from there."
"You'll see," she shook her head in disappointment. If they didn't get to you first, then the paranoia would set you off. She was the first to know the mind tricks they played on people; she'd encouraged it first hand!
"I don't know," she hesitated, sounding more unsure of herself than the decision.
"I mean I don't understand," she explained uncomfortably, the full-force f the trauma hitting her.
"Why would you want to help me? Why are you being so nice?" she asked suspiciously, cautious of him being so involved. She dislodged the broken vile from before, the poison long drained from it, and dropped it beside the hand of one of the unrecognizable bodies, before following him to safety.
"Aren't we friends? Didn't you say we should stick together before. I'm not going to leave you here to die," he gave her a worried look.
It took them some time to reach the farm, neither of them being in their strongest. Hindered by Celeste's ankle and his own body which had begun to ache, Peter was breathing heavily by then. The sight of his former home burnt to the ground almost broke his resolve. He desperately wanted to rush and search the rubble for anything and anyone.
But he resisted and lead her to a tree some distance away from the main home; there he pushed aside dirt and fallen leaves to reveal a hidden door. After heaving up the heavy wooden block, he descended into his father's weapon room. Where on the walls rested bows and blades of all sorts.
Celeste followed him with wariness, feeling herself float beside him in numb contentment. She didn't speak when they reached the remnants of his home and couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't taken refuge in the weapons room.
"Are you hurt?" she asked after a few moments of observing the jewel's that gleamed from wall-to-wall. She was sure she'd never seen such a collection, but her mind was also starting to go fuzzy. Details were gradually lost and memories were becoming vague, such as the name of the town, or the face of her assigner.
"Where will you go after this?" she asked, her voice more strained than before.
There was a small place on the wall, where a weapon was missing. The old axe he took to the hill, now lost forever. "Not hurt, just getting tired." He muttered. He lifted a heavy axe from a shelf, clearly a better weapon.
"I'm going south to the mountains," he said leaning against the wall, "tomorrow that is, unless you wish to leave now. I mean... Something is wrong, Celeste.... you sound like you are struggling. It isn't those people after you is it?"
"There's just nothing left to me," she sighed and after a moment of thought added, "and there won't be anything left when they find me."
"Let's just try to rest," she smiled weakly, settling herself near the door.
"Oh," he muttered sitting down beside his new axe. All it seemed like he could do was wait and help her when the time came.
Celeste quickly fell into a hallucination-induced sleep, although sleep itself came at intervals. She woke up several times from whatever ledge the nightmare would leave her on, shivering to the extent of convulsions and crammed uncomfortably against the wall.
It wasn't until mid morning until she woke from something apart her own mind, to what sounded like a clawing against the side of the wall. Although the back of her mind told her that it was a charred branch scraping against the side of the wall, she jumped at the opportunity and silently wandered out of the weapon's shelter, into the dull blue of the upcoming new day.
Her ruined ankle seemed to be of little concern, as she tried to walk as normally as she could, despite the pain that one could only assume from its awkward position. The sun had just peaked above the hills, seering through the smoke of the pro-battle scene, when her surroundings became familiar once again. She stood in the midst of the wasteland for an uncounted time, minutes that easily could have been hours, without the slightest flick of movement.
"It was all in my head," she thought to herself and a moment later, she whispered it under her breath. Of course her assigner wouldn't send out to fetch her, it seemed so clear now! He had a great disliking in demons of all sorts, but the Shriek's had left their own impression on him. She'd be assumed dead the moment their King was mentioned, or at the least when he got a peek of the mess it had left behind. And if she had lived, then he would leave her unacknowledged, out of embarrassment for his doubt.
Melting back into reality, she turned to retrace her steps to Peter, when she was met face to face with an old aquantince. She hadn't made eye contact for a moment when the man's sword gutted her and held. Leaving the sword in tact to the dead body, he wiped his hands on his trousers and continued to clear the rubble from a nearby entrance. He did, after all, still hold the responsibility of being the town's jeweler and intended to do so, from every day fourth.
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