A medieval superhuman thread

[Felix80]

OOC:

The premise here is that the mutant or metahuman gene arose in Eurania, a fictional equivalent to the middle ages in europe. In a time when the greatest warriors became kings of nations, men with superhuman powers became the greatest kings. Between the gifting of land to their children and the intermarriage of their daughters with their greatest knights and the intermarriage of nobility within a few generations superpowers became the mark of nobility.

Children often had the gift of one or other of their parents. Rarely they had an entirely different gift, and it was even rarer for a child to inheret both parent's gifts. If a child was born of a peasant and a noble they would often be born normal, which eliminated them from inhereting their parents land. Powers traditionally surface at some point in puberty, though there are tales of those who breakthrough early or late.

The kingdom of Alaria is one of the largest nations in Eurania, thanks to the military genius and the incredible power of the tyrannical King Urkorin. He ruled Alaria with an ironfist, crushing revolts and consolidating power in his younger days and expanding the kingdom in later days. Urkorin was a tyrant, taking what he wanted, fixing every noble's marriage, taking three wives for himself and taking any comely lass into his bed that he wanted, slaughtering his own illegitimate children so there would be no problems with ascension when he died.

The Urkorin family gift or ability was superstrength and invulnerability. King Urkorin was stronger then his father or his father's father. None of his legitimate children shared his powers, all of them taking after their mothers or developing new powers, which was not uncommon, but brought up questions of infidelity that may have been accurate but no one dared mention these rumors to the King. They rather liked having their heads attached to their bodies.

Twenty years ago, during a campaign, Urkorin was staying with the house of Thorral. He took Lord Thorral's youngest daughter, Quellia, to his bed everynight, leaving her when the campaign was over, giving Thorral additional lands as a payment for his daughter's service. An exceptionally skinny girl, she did not show at all until the child came. King Urkorin had no intention of taking another wife, and if he discovered the girl had bore him a son Urkorin would have the child slaughtered. Taking her son with her Quellia fled to the verdant valleys of Lord Chophol where she lived as a peasant and raised the child. Even in the house of Thorral only a handful of people knew what truly happened. Rumors arose that she ran away to marry a peasant or drowned.

Quellia Thorral had the traditional Thorral gift of rapid healing. Drowning was one of the few ways to a Lord or Lady Thorral could die. Their gift allowed them to live far longer then peasants or other nobles. Short of a beheading they would recover from the most severe wounds inflicted upon them on the battlefield.

The Chophol line had been mixed with the Yegg line by Urkorin early in his kingship. The traditional Chophol ability was control over plants, the traditional Yegg ability was control over the earth. Joined together the Chophol lands became the most fertile lands in Eurania, producing bumper crops beyond imagination. Urkorin was a heartless bastard , but he was a brilliant, heartless bastard.

Ten years ago Urkorin's eldest son died in battle. When Urkorin heard the news he had a heart attack and died on the spot. Without his eldest son the line of succession was unclear and a war of succession ensued. The house of Urkorin wiped itself out, fighting over the traditional Urkorin lands. The lands of Chophol were ravaged as well, for whoever controlled the breadbasket of Alaria held considerable power. The lords and ladies of Chophol were held under house arrest by various noble families, claiming to be protecting the Chophol but actually taking parts of the verdant Chophol lands as their own.

The story begins with the illegitimate son of Urkorin, the last of the Urkorin line who is unaware of his nobility. He has his father's strength and invulnerability, and unknown to him or anyone, his mother's healing. He has been taught to keep his powers a secret from his youth, before they even surfaced at puberty, Quellia fearing for his life as well as her own. That fear continues for even an invulnerable man must breathe and eat to continue living. Also, she does not know that poisins would be as useless on her son as they would be on her. He works as a lumberjack, enjoying the solace of the forest where he can exercise his great strength, felling giant trees with one mighty strike. He lives off the land, hunting for his food, utilizing skills he has learned from his mother.

One day he sees a throng of soldiers clad in armor chasing a lone maiden on horseback through a field and into his forest. She is the most beautiful woman the young man has ever seen. The soldiers fire an arrow into the horse's flank and force the woman to the ground. The young man can stand it no more and attacks, barrelling through the soldiers and absconding with the maiden.

The girl turns out to be a young lady from the house of Chophol. She had escaped from her captivity from the house of Thorral, who held her family captive as their claim to part of the lands of Chopol. She knows nothing of peasant life and does not consider it odd that the young man can read and write. Peasants developing a gift randomly is a rare circumstance, but not unheard of, and that is what she thinks is happening here. Usually the peasant would go through training to become one of his lord's knights. The Lady Chophol decides to seduce this superstrong boy and use him as her knight to restore her family's lands. Afterwards she begins to fall in love with the boy as she sees his nobility, selflessness and caring.

Anyway, that's the story I've got in my head. What I'm looking for is a girl to play the part of the Lady Chophol. She is young, 18-22, and ignorant of the life of peasants though well versed in the court life of Thorral. Her power should be fairly useless in combat, though it does not not need to be one of the traditional Yegg or Chophol gifts. Please Pm me your character and a first post, chronicling her escape and/or the chase before the boy interenes.

If you like what you've read and want to participate in some other way then feel free to PM me a storyline that would fit in with the story I've outlined so far.

Thanks in advance.

 

[Felix80]

The ax head was up over his right shoulder, one hand near the axehead, one hand near the other end of the handle. He was aimed up perfectly on the tree and swung the ax downward, bringing his hands together, imparting his strength to the tool.

Swoosh!

The ax blade went clear through the tree, cutting the trunk in half. The tree started to fall towards the young man who shifted the ax to his right hand, stepped up to the tree and pushed it the other way with his left hand. The tree weighed well over a thousand pounds and the young man pushed it over like a twig. The tree fell to the forest floor with a thud, shaking the ground for a moment but the young man ignored the shaking ground and lost no time. Immediately he was walking up the trunk, lopping off branches with one swing of his ax, trimming the trunk into one long pole. When he was finished he walked back to the center of the trunk, hefted it with one hand and carried the trunk out to the edge of the forest, not quite going into the meadow that lay beyond the veil of the woodline.

The young man stood at six feet tall, and was on the thin side of normal. He was dressed in a simple linen tunic and linen breeches, tied to his legs with twine and fastened with a simple leather belt. His feet were clad in poorly worked leather boots. He had long, curly blonde hair tied back in a pony tail at the base of his neck. His eyes were ice blue, almost silvery, with a warmth behind them which matched the gentle smile that could always be found on his face.

When he got to the edge of the forest he tossed his load on the large pile of trunk-poles he had already cut down that day. A crew of three peasants would need over an hour to fell a tree and prep it to be carried. It would take at least six men to move a tree trunk. On his own the young man had stacked over two dozen poles there by himself, not a bad morning's work. After lunch he would go see if Herr Wagner would lend him his cart and oxen so he could bring the trunk-poles into the village of Turkey Roost to sell. Tomorrow he would sell the brush and limbs he had collected. Right now he would eat.

There was a simple linen sack hung on a tree limb near the pile of trunk-poles. The young man took the bag down and opened it up as he sat. It was a simple lunch. A little venison jerky he'd hunted and salted himself. An eighth of a loaf of baked rye bread he'd bought at the village that had already gone hard. He had to cut that with the knife he kept on his belt. He had a few pears as well and an old wineskin he filled with water from the brook.

As the young man finished he retied the bag and slung it over the head of his ax. He propped the ax on his shoulder and walked out of the woods into the meadow. He was confronted with a vision of loveliness. It was a maiden, in a fine dress befitting royalty, on the back of a black gelding, riding the horse sidesaddle at an incredible rate. She was across the meadow from him, maybe 50 yards away.

The young man stared at her for a few, infinite moments. His reverie was broken by the loud shouts of men. The young man turned to the unwelcome noise and found a pack of armed and armored men on horseback. They were chasing the woman, there was no doubt of that. One of the men brought up a bow, arrow notched.

“No,” breathed the young man as he dropped his ax off his shoulder, swung it in a circle so the bag dropped off of it and it was back up over his right shoulder, his hand on the end of the handle. He lunged forward, throwing the ax in a perfect spiral, crossing the fifty yards between them with ease, the handle of the ax slamming into the soldier's armor, knocking the man from his horse, but not before the archer got off his shot. The young man looked toward the beautiful maiden. The back end of the arrow shaft protruded from the hind quarters of her horse. The black stallion bucked, tossing the maiden off before it continued to run, faster now, probably out of fear. It would slow to a limp soon.

The young man never gave it a thought, he started to run towards the maiden. In the back of his mind he knew he couldn't get to her before the soldiers did, but he had to try.

---------------------

OOC: Haven't decided on a name for the protaonist yet. Hence the overuse of pronouns.

 

[DarkEmpress]

Name: Lady Amber Chophol
Age: 19
Appearance: Sky-blue eyes, long dark raven-black hair, light complexion.

Amber was absently staring out of the small window that granted her little room a bit of light during the day. She was to be shipped off to Thorral tomorrow to be married to a man that she had met once … and from what she remembered, the prospect was rather grim.

She was thinking about her childhood. Everything was so different then. She had her parents and her older brother and allot of aunts and uncles and cousins … she could barely remember them.

Then one fateful day, King Urkorin died of a heart attack at the news of his oldest son’s demise and it submerged the Kingdom of Alaria into chaos. She still remembered the day the men came to forcefully remove them from their home, plundering and destroying everything that her family had held dear in this life. Amber was only nine years old.

Her father was mortally wounded but for the sake of her mother and herself, he fought bravely for three years, before he died. All that Amber could remember of her father was his tortured screams in the night as the pain wracked his body. Her mother didn’t die too long after that, mourning the death of her husband. Her brother, Michael had managed to escape during the siege on her family’s land and Amber had not seen him since. Her mother once told her that he lived in Yegg somewhere, but Amber had no idea where Yegg even was. It left Amber utterly alone at the tender age of 13.

Her life had changed from being a young lady in court to being a slave to her new master, the illustrious Lord Darius from Thorral who did not have a single morsel of compassion in his being. Amber’s powers started manifesting at the age of 14. Her captors were anticipating this, and were keeping close tabs on Amber to ascertain exactly what powers she would have. She still remembered her mother teaching her about the powers and explaining to her how to use it, as she was bound to have her mother’s power that controlled the vegetation, helping it grow and flourish within the fertile soils of Chophol.

Another power however manifested in the form of a control that Amber had on the weather, which greatly added to her power over plants. Unbeknownst to Amber, this was a very unique power that no other had, which made her invaluable to the Thorrals. A bizarre revelation occurred when they realised that Amber’s hold on the weather was linked to her emotional state. An entire crop failed due to a terrible drought when Amber was 14, and she was beaten savagely … while she cried the heavens darkened and rain fell from the sky, in tune with Amber’s tears.

This was perhaps the cruellest realisation, as Amber was subjected to horrific beatings when the land needed water. She quickly learnt how to control her power more efficiently, and was capable of summoning and stopping rain at a command to spare herself the torture. However, when Amber was furious the sky would normally darken, ominously summoning a disastrous storm that comprised of gale force winds, thunder and lightning that sowed destruction. Her captors quickly learnt not to anger her, rather keeping her in a state where Amber’s life was submissive and filled with fear for punishment.

Amber was a mere 16 years old when she was taken to the Fiefdom of Thorral. Lord Thorral had heard of her power and was quite interested in striking a match with his oldest son Tirus. He was a vicious man with cruel eyes that devoured every curve on Amber, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body. She was of course kept in seclusion, but the curious stares that she received did not escape Amber’s eyes. It was as if everyone knew who she was.

She was sent back to Chophol, with the reprieve of three years before she was to be returned to Thorral to be married to Tirus with the soul purpose of bearing his children that could wield her unique power.

~~~~***~~~~

Amber could not do it. She would rather die than be delivered to the hands of that monster. She waited until the change of guard at noon, and quickly slipped out of her room, unseen. She rushed to the stables and saddled up one of Lord Darius’ prize geldings, a pitch black purebred called ‘Zeus’, and sped off around the back of the manor. She was not sure where to go, but anywhere that was away from here would be better. She estimated around ten to fifteen minutes before they would realise that she was missing.

She sunk her heels deep into Zeus’ flanks and urged him to run fast, as his powerful legs effortlessly devoured the ground beneath Amber.

She was an hour away when she heard the first footfall of hooves behind her. Terror was screaming through her mind as she looked around and saw around 15 guards close on her heels. Amber’s glossy hair was blowing wildly behind her along with her light blue cape that was bellowing over Zeus’ flanks.

She reached a meadow and whispered “Go boy,” into Zeus’ ear as she tried to put as much distance between herself and the guards, who were being led by Darius himself. He would not be held accountable for losing Tirus’ bride-to-be.

Zeus suddenly bucked beneath Amber, sending her flying across his head and landing on the ground with a horrible muffled thud. Amber opened her eyes only to see Zeus heading straight for her. She quickly rolled out of his way and cried out in pain as her chest was burning. She must have cracked a rib.

The guards were at her side in no time. Darius jumped off his horse before it had even stopped, ruthlessly yanking Amber’s small and defenceless form from the floor. “You stupid wench!” he screamed at her through gritted teeth, as he landed a powerful backhand across Amber’s cheek, sending her sprawling back to the floor.

She hit her head on a rock that was covered in tall grass, opening up a gushing wound on the back of her head that was bleeding terribly. Darius was shocked, he did not mean to cause grievous bodily harm to her … Tirus would have his head for this.

Amber had screamed, but the sound was muffled as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, sending her world swirling into darkness.

 

[Felix80]

The armored man in the lead shouted something and two of the armored horsemen broke off and headed toward the young man. One man was brandishing a halberd, the other a lance. They both bore down on the young man, leaning forward in the saddle, aiming their polearms. The young man never faulted, running straight toward where the girl fell, not slowing for even a moment, almost as if the soldiers weren't there. The soldier with the lance pulled ahead, the tip of his lance aimed dead center at young man's chest. The soldier's grin was large, he was reveling in this easy kill. He came closer: fifteen feet, ten, five, then he made contact, perfectly placed at the boy's sternum.

The lance shattered, the metal tip bouncing off and went flying. The soldier fell from his horse. The young man didn't even flinch.

“Crap,” the soldier with the halberd said, jerking the reins of his horse. His horse reared and the halberd was brought off target as the soldier used it to balance. The young man ran past and grabbed the halberd that was in front of him, twisting it and sending the soldier arching up 30 feet through the air. The young man continued running, holding the halberd low in one hand, the seven foot pole parallel to the ground.

~~~~***~~~~

Darius Thorral ripped off his helmet and looked over the motionless body of Amber Chophol. Blood was still seeping from the wound in the back of her head. He gritted his teeth as he surveyed the damage. He knew nothing of medicine and wounds, the Thorral family ability was fast healing, Darius would have recovered from a wound like this in less then a moment.

“Medic!” Darius shouted.

Two of his men were already standing behind him at attention, waiting for the order to help. They'd seen the Lady Chophol fall from her horse and anticipated their need. The two men leapt into action, quickly assessing the situation.

“Get her ready to be returned to the manor,” Darius growled, “if she doesn't make it I'll flay you both alive and sew your scrotums together for my coin purse.”

The men nodded, neither reacting to their lord's threat. They were used to the invective of the Thorral family. They tended to the girl's head wound, it wasn't bad, just a flesh wound and probably a concussion from the impact. They wrapped it with linen bandages. Lord Darius was watching their every move until another of his soldiers tapped him on the shoulder.

“What?” demanded Darius. The soldier pointed into the air. Darius looked up and saw another of his soldiers flying through the air. “By the gods,” he murmured.

“It's a noble, sir,” the soldier said, now pointing to a peasant running towards him, halberd in hand. It was the same peasant who had tossed the ax at his best archer.

“I can see that, you dolt,” Darius seethed as he drew his sword and pointed it at the young man and yelled, “Attack!”

Darius watched as nine armored soldiers ran toward the young man. He needed to know what the young man could do. The boy raised the halberd above his head, held it in the middle and spun it around as he gave a shout. The first soldier approached and raised an ax above his head. The boy closed the distance between them. The soldier brought the ax down and it slammed into the boy's head, a perfect hit. The ax bounced off the boy, sending a vibration down the shaft.

“Impossible,” Darius spat. He shook his head in disbelief. “They're gone.”

The peasant grabbed the ax from the soldier and gave him a shove, sending the armored man flying ten feet and skidding another twenty across the grass. The peasant boy raised the ax and halberd in a combat stance and shouted, “The next one of you who gets in my way dies.”

“I will slaughter any of you who run!” Darius shouted from where he stood.

The lead soldier moved towards the peasant and boy knocked aside the man's mace with his halberd then took a step closer and hit the man's helmet with the flat of his ax, dropping the soldier to the ground. The other soldiers looked at each other. One of them chuckled and soon they broke into laughter and charged the peasant.

Darius shook his head. The boy should have killed the first one if he wanted the others to take him seriously.

The soldiers tackled the peasant and knocked him to the ground, dog piling on top of them. They were wiggling and trying to overwhelm him. It lasted for about two minutes before the men exploded into the air, all flying in different directions. The peasant got to his feet and picked up the ax. He locked his gaze with Darius.

The Thorral lord turned to his two medics. “Can she be moved?”

“Yes sir,” one of the medics said.

“Good, get her on a horse and get out of here,” Darius growled, “I'll hold this demon off.”

“Sir, she may not survive a horse ride,” the other medic, an older man, said, “we're going to need to carry her on a stretcher.” The first medic shot him a glare behind Darius' back, but said nothing.

“Then I'll just have to kill him,” Darius said, more to himself then the medics. He refastened his helmet, took a deep breath, raised his sword above his head and charged at the young man howling out a battlecry.

The peasant boy lifted his ax and threw it, sending another perfect spiral, the ax head slamming into Darius' chest, embedding itself through his armor in a spurt of blood and dropping the Thorral lord to the ground.

The peasant boy's jaw dropped. “Oh no.” He ran forward, reaching Darius in moments and bending down. He pulled the ax out and looked at the wound through the gaping hole in Darius' armor. “I think I killed him.”

Darius' gauntleted hand shot up and grabbed the peasant boy by the ear, pulling him to the ground as the boy gasped. In a flash he was atop the young man sitting on the boy's chest with the peasant's own knife less then an inch from the boy's eye. The peasant stared at the tip of the dagger, transfixed.

“What's your name boy?” Darius demanded, expecting the boy's eyes to track back and forth with the blade. Instead the peasant was looking at Darius' face and frowning.

“Taran,” the boy said in a slow, calm voice. Then he had the audacity to say, “You're bleeding on me sir, you're going to be dead in moments. I'm sorry I killed you.”

Darius laughed, a single, loud guffaw. “I am Darius Thorral! I've suffered far worse then this Taran, peasant!” The boys eyes went wide when Darius said his name. Darius grinned. “That's right Taran, you've attacked your rightful lord and master, and I have every right to shove this dagger in your eye and through to your brain. But I won't.” Darius tossed the knife aside. “You have fought well and you are obviously one of the gifted, noble by birth if not by blood. Swear your fealty to me and I will make you my knight. Serve me well and one day I may give you a fiefdom of your own.” He grinned at the boy. “What do you say?”

Taran grabbed Darius by the hole in his chest plate and rolled over so he was on top of Darius. He pushed Darius so he was embedded in the ground and then stood, picked up Darius' sword and drove it through the noble's abdomen and into the ground beneath him until the hilt touched armor. Taran wiped his hands together and shook his head.

“I say the next time you cross me I'll use your sword to cut off your head.”

Taran spit on him and then turned to walk toward the medics and the two girls. The younger medic was shaking where he stood but the older medic, who was still kneeling by the girl locked eyes with Taran and nodded slightly as the boy drew near. Taran returned the nod. “Is she okay?”

“Die scum!” the younger medic cried. Before he could draw his sword from its scabbard Taran had knocked him out with a swat to the helmet.

“No, she's not,” the older medic answered in a whisper. He was calm, as if everything he'd just seen was perfectly normal. “The head wound isn't deep, but you never know what repercussions a blow to the head can have. I'm not worried though. She's young, she's been through worse. The ribs are going to be troubling. She's bruising on the side here. I don't think it's broken but she'll have trouble moving for weeks if not months.”

Taran nodded. “What do we do?” he asked in the same low voice.

“You need to knock me out, like you did my nephew,” the old medic pointed his thumb at the young medic, “and then you need to get out of here. Unless you were smart enough to kill that vicious bastard?” The medic sounded almost hopeful.

“I will not kill Darius Thorral,” Taran said through gritted teeth.

The medic shook his head. “Your mercy will cost you in the long run. Can you ride?”

Taran shook his head. “Not well. I'm a woodsman.”

“Well Woodsman,” the medic whispered, “Shout 'give me the girl' nice and loud, swat me on the helmet nice and easy. Take the girl, ride out of here on a horse and leading another and head west or north. Stick to the woods. Stay away from villages and towns until you're out of Thorral land, unless she don't wake up in the next hour or two. Once you're out of Thorral land lay low and pray no one ever finds out who she is.”

Taran raised an eyebrow. “Who is she?”

“Her name is Amber, and if she don't remember more then that the better off you'll be.” the medic lifted the girl as he stood and handed her to Taran. “Go on now, do what you need to.”

“Give me the girl!” Taran shouted at the top of his lungs. “Thank you,” he whispered to the medic and then gave him a swat on the helmet. Whether he was unconscious or not the older medic fell to the ground.

In a few minutes the two of them were on the horse, a second horse being lead by its reins. In a few more they headed east, into the woods. Taran headed east for about ten minutes before he turned. Hopefully that would through them off enough to give them a decent lead. The sun was mostly overhead, but he kept it as much on his left as he could. He would head north and hope they didn't find him. Riding a horse is a skill, one Taran didn't have. They moved mostly at a trot, which was fine by him. It was faster then he could safely walk through the woods, which seemed good to him.

Taran did not consider that there were several soldiers that he had merely stunned. One of them would pull the sword from Darius' abdomen, that they would go to the mansion and it would be less then tow hours before they would get back to the meadow with a contingent of horsemen, dogs for tracking and one of Darius' cousins who brought with her a different gift.

 

[DarkEmpress]

Amber’s eyes fluttered open, she was slumped against something warm and she was being held in place with a vice-like grasp. She felt disorientated. A wave of pain crashed over her as she realised that her head was throbbing and every breath that she took hurt. She whimpered softly as the horse went through a dip, making her sway in front of Taran as another jolt of pain shot through her.

She carefully looked down to find a massive hand securely clasped around her waist. Whoever was sitting behind her on the horse must be huge. His entire hand spread across her waist making her look incredibly small. Her eyes instantly filled with fear.

She looked around surreptitiously trying not to alert him to the fact that she was awake. She noticed that they were barely walking at a trot, and that he had the reigns so slack and his posture was so slouched that the poor horse aimlessly walked in any direction it wanted. Whoever this was, obviously did not know the first thing about horse riding, donkey riding on the other hand ...

She carefully looked down again and noticed a small dagger that was peeking from one of the saddle bags. Amber closed her eyes and took a deep ragged breath. She quickly grabbed the dagger and jumped from the horse. They were going slow enough that she landed firmly on her feet, instantly collapsing in a bundle of pain as her chest contracted painfully around her. She cried out in pain as a ragged gasp pulled across her lips. She gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes tightly as she forced herself back onto her feet, standing defiantly with the dagger in front of her, her other arm wrapped around her chest trying to sooth the pain, staring Taran down.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” she warned, in the scariest voice that she could muster. “I warn you,” she said lunging in his direction, only to gasp again in pain. Tears were running down her cheeks, she was scared, she was in pain and her head was throbbing even worse now.

The sky suddenly started clouding over, blocking out the sun as small raindrops started falling from the sky. Amber subconsciously cursed at herself. The last thing she needed right now was to get wet. She firmly grasped a hold of her emotions and stopped herself from crying, rather focussing on the man that had climbed from the horse and was patiently eyeing her ... was that a smile on his face?

Amber was instantly furious. “Oh, so you think I am joking?!” she hissed. She had no idea what the hell she was saying, she would never hurt a fly. But she was quite frankly prepared to decorate this infuriating man’s face just to wipe that annoying little smile off his face. Her sky-blue eyes were smouldering at Taran, her raven black hair wildly strewn across her shoulders her light-blue cape falling around her, just revealing the small dagger and a peak at her matching dress.

“Don’t just stand there!” she yelled. “Say something!!” She was putting a great deal of faith in the little dagger, as she carefully let her eyes dart around trying to ascertain an escape route. She knew she wouldn’t get far, but she had to try. For all she knew he could be taking her back to ...

Her mind came up with a blank. Amber frowned. Take me where? She froze, completely forgetting about the man in front of her as she started firing basic questions at herself. What’s your name? ... Where are you from? ... How old are you? ... What day is it?

Blank ...

Amber’s blue eyes were suddenly filled with fear as she looked around her wildly. She didn’t even know where she was, she didn’t know this man as her eyes shot to Taran. He was quite tall and lean, with ice-blue eyes that were starting to look worried. He was dressed as a ... peasant, her mind provided the answer. She could tell that he was capable of being quite dangerous if he put his mind to it. His face did not seem familiar. Do I know him?

Another blank ...

She kept the dagger in front of her, just in case. But her body language changed from defensive to being completely disarmed. What am I going to do?

She cleared her throat, as she asked barely audibly, “Do you know ... who I am?”

 

[Felix80]

Taran had driven Herr Wagner's oxen team enough times to know how to get a horse to go in the general direction he wanted it to go. He figured he could get the horse to run faster if he gave it a swat on the ass, but with his cargo he didn't want to risk it.

"Who are you?" Taran asked himself as he looked down at his cargo, a young woman named Amber who didn't dress like a peasant. "Darius Thorral wants you, and that's not a good thing. But what does he want you for? Did you steal that horse you were riding?" Taran shook his head. "No, they don't send over a dozen soldiers after a horse thief. Well, maybe if it were a Lord Thoral's own prized horse, but then why would they shoot the horse? No, for whatever reason, Darius wanted you. Luckily I slowed him down for a good long while. It'll take three men to pull that pigsticker out of his belly. But why does he want you? The soldier told me you'd be better off if you didn't know who you were. Why?" Taran glanced down at Amber again. "Well, you're beautiful. And you're dressed in noble garb. Why would a noble girl be running from another noble? And why would it be better if you didn't know who you were?" Taran rode on for a few moments, pondering this question. His eyebrows shot up when he came to a realization. "It was an arranged marriage wasn't it? Nobility marries to better their station and to increase their power. I bet you fell in love with someone your father didn't approve of and you ran. I know all about that."

Taran chuckled to himself and after that they rode in the relative silence of the forest; birds chirping and the wind rustling leaves. They were familiar sounds and Taran found them comforting as they meandered northbound through the forest. He had just let the horse clear a dip when Amber jerked out of his grip. Taran pulled back gently on the reins and brought the horse to a halt. He heard her scream, turned and saw Amber slowly picking herself up. Taran couldn't help but smile when she brandished the knife at him. She might as well have been threatening a bear with a twig. She threatened him and lunged at him with the knife. Taran sighed and slowly got off the horse. He needed to stop her before she hurt herself. She held the dagger out at him at arm's length while threatening and cursing him. Arm's length was no place to hold a knife, how could you strike at someone if your arm was already at full length?

The girl was soaring through emotions like a bird in the sky. Taran waited a moment for her to calm down, he didn't want to manhandle her, not with her injured ribs. She finally did calm down, and seemed genuinely lost when she asked if he knew who she was.

Taran calmly said, "Amber. I'm Taran. We need-" Taran was torn. He flet like they should keep going but he also knew she was injured and may not be up for the ride. It had been nearly two hours and he hadn't seen any sign of pursuit. Taran shook his head. He needed to prioritize. "How does your head feel?"

 

[DarkEmpress]

Amber lowered the dagger slowly to her side, just staring into his steely blue eyes. “Amber ...” she echoed slowly. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to think really hard. It rang no bells. If anything it made her head ache even more.

She opened her eyes slowly and found Taran’s watchful eyes again. “Hi Taran,” she said softly. She was confused as to whether she should greet him as if she had never seen him before or whether she had known him before. Maybe she would hurt his feelings. “I don’t know if I know you,” she explained slowly as she extended her hand in a greeting, wincing again at the pain in the right side of her chest. “But, it is nice to meet you,” she said as her eyes shimmered into his with unshed tears.

“My head is aching,” she said, letting her hand trail along her head. She was absolutely surprised to find the linen bandages there. She wasn’t even aware that something was wrapped around her head. She let her fingers gingerly search to the base of her neck where the pain was throbbing. Comprehension dawned, she must have injured her head somehow – that would explain why it felt like it was about to explode.

Her legs were shaking, as the strain of standing started taking its toll. She slowly sunk down to the floor just sitting there expressionlessly. It hurt too much to think. Amber forced her body to relax, trying to take the strain off her ribcage that was hurting like hell. She breathed shallowly, to try and minimise the pain in her chest.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said softly. “Or at least, I think that is what is happening here,” she said as she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I am sorry I threatened you,” she said earnestly, taking in his form and the gentle look on his face. She instinctively knew she could trust him ... and for some reason he made her feel safe. Amber felt a dull ache in her heart, as if this was a feeling that she’s been longing for.

 

[Felix80]

Taran was glad when Amber lowered the dagger and he listened politle when she introduced herself. It was obvious she was experiencing some sort of memory loss. Despite what the old soldier said Taran hoped it was temporary. It would be horrible to go through life without knowing who you are.

When the girl collapsed he rushed to her, kneeling down on the ground next to her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. As Amber thanked him and apologized Taran lifted her chin to look at her face. The didn't know what he was looking for, but he didn't see anything wrong. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was warm, but not hot.

"Come on, let's get you laying down and get some food in you." Taran moved behind Amber, clearing away the underbrush with one sweep of his arm, then quickly picking the rocks out of the way. He lowered Amber onto her back and told her to relax and be comfortable. He moved to the horses to check their saddlebags. The only food he could find was some hard tac, a particularly durable kind of bread that was almost impossible to chew without water. He brought it over to Amber, along with his water bag and sat down next to her. Taran let her get a little food in her before he asked:

"Tell me Amber, does the name Darius Thorral mean anything to you?"

 

[DarkEmpress]

Taran was instantly at her side, his steel grey eyes roaming over her worriedly. He put a hand gently on her shoulder and tilted her head up to him, sending her hair past her shoulders and down her back as he inspected her, letting a hand drift to her forehead. It was such a sweet gesture, Amber let him do all of it while she kept her gaze riveted to his.

He moved behind her and was doing something; Amber did not turn to look for fear of aggravating her chest. His hands were gently on her shoulders again, lowering her gently to the floor so she lay on her back … quite comfortably actually. Taran stood up and walked away as Amber lay staring at the tree canopy above her, the sun sending little rays of light filtering through the gaps in the leaves. He returned with some Tac, which Amber ate a little of.

"Tell me Amber, does the name Darius Thorral mean anything to you?" he asked. Amber closed her eyes as she thought about the name.

Darius Thorral … Darius Thorral … Thorral, Thorral … Thorral!!

Amber’s eyes shot open, fear clearly etched in them as she moaned softly. Her entire body tensed up, her muscles contorting painfully around her bruised side. She closed her eyes tightly, as all the memories came crashing down … a single tear making its way across her cheek. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to shelter herself.

“Tirius Thorral …” she said instead, her voice filled with so much fear. “Darius … he is my lord and master,” Amber said, with a lifeless voice. It struck her suddenly that she did not actually know Taran … her brow furrowed into a frown as she looked at him again. His eyes were still incredibly gentle, with worry clouding them over. She pressed her lips together as she decided determinedly that he could not be part of Thorral’s guards, none of them would be worried about setting her down gently to rest, or give her something to eat … or touch her brow worriedly to see if she was alright … for a moment she just let her eyes stare into his in wonder. She could not remember the last time anyone did that.

“We have to go …” she breathed barely audibly, as she painfully tried to sit up. She collapsed back to the ground. Amber was trembling slightly as she brought her hands up to her face, pressing them tightly against her eyes … trying to stop the flood of tears. “I would rather die a thousand deaths than be at his mercy,” she said brokenly.

 

[Felix80]

When Amber blurted out Tirius' name Taran's eyes widened slightly and his gentle smile becoming a hard line. Darius was her lord and master? How was that possible if she was a noble? Maybe she wasn't a noblewoman, maybe servants in the Thorral houshehold all dressed in such finery.

A tear rolled down Amber's cheek as she crossed her arms in fright. Taran lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped away the tear then pushed her arms back to her sides, whispering, "Mind the rib Amber." She tried to lift herself then fell again and Taran couldn't help but smile. She was so very beautiful, and brave.

She started to cry and Taran whispered, "Shhh, no one will hurt you Amber. I'm here, I will protect you. Shhh." He pushed her hands away and lifted the hem of his linen tunic to dry her tears. He noticed the part he held was red with Darius' blood from the fight. Taran grabbed a cleean part of the hem and wiped her tears away.

"Amber, I need you to tell me whatever you can remember. Why are the Thorral's after you? Did you steal something? Do they want you," Taran paused for a half second, closing his eyes. He opened them and finished his question, "dead?"

 

[DarkEmpress]

Amber let out a ragged sigh as she closed her eyes. Where to begin? She opened her eyes slowly again, staring into Taran’s … desperation burning in them.

“I am Lady Amber Chophol,” she said, watching the surprise spread across his face. “My home and our land were invaded by the Thorral’s when I was nine years old. My father was grievously injured during the battle … he died three years later, my mother shortly after that …” She closed her eyes tightly.

As the tears rolled down her cheeks the sky started turning darker … banks of heavy clouds rolling in. “I have been a slave to Darius Thorral ever since … they use my power over the plants to tend to their lands … and if I fail there are always consequences.” Self-consciously she let her hands move around her wrists, where the scars served as constant reminders of the nights that she was bound and whipped … and left to cry.

The first drops started falling, as Amber cursed for the hundredth time her stupid power that had caused her so much pain. She didn’t want it.

“I am to be shipped off to the Fiefdom of Thorral tomorrow to be married to Tirius Thorral … for the soul purpose of acting as an incubator for his spawn …”

An anguished sob escaped Amber’s lips as a blinding bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. “They seem fascinated with my power over the weather,” she said brokenly, staring at the sky above her. “When I cry … it rains,” she explained softly, as the rain started falling gently around them. They were sheltered from the most of it under the tree canopy.

“You can not protect me Taran,” she said, looking in his eyes with fear. “They will kill you to get to me, and I can’t let them do that. We have to run,” she said desperately, her hands clasping around his as if she was almost pleading with him.

 

[Felix80]

Taran's eyes went wide when Amber identified herself; biting his bottom lip slightly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He took a deep breath, let it out and forced his easy smile back on his face. He nodded, acknowledging her words as she talked about the loss of her parents. His hand moved out involuntarily and caressed her shoulder, trying to comfort and assure her.

He closed his eyes as she talked about her involuntary service to the Thorral and their consequences. "The Thorral now have more to answer for," he murmured, almost too low for her to hear. He opened his eyes and matched her gaze, forcing a smile for her. The venom in her voice when she described her future as Tirius' latest bride shook him to the marrow of his bones, making Taran's eyes tear up and his body shudder. He took a shallow breath and held it until he stopped shivering, rubbing Amber's shoulder, trying to comfort her without crossing the line between peasant and noble.

At Amber's sob and the bolt of lightning Taran shot to his feet, twirling around. He realized what the sound was and knelt back down next to Amber. Then she made the most startling revelation of all. She had control over the weather. Taran's jaw dropped, though he recovered quickly.

She pulled his hands into her own and plead with him, pleading for him to save his own life. He almost laughed and shook his head. Taran pulled his left hand out of Amber's and wiped some of her tears away with his pointer finger. He locked eyes with her and held her gaze for a moment. When he spoke Taran's voice was low, lower then her's but he was deadly serious.

"Amber you need to make it rain. Not just rain, but storm, as hard and as wet as you can." He paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, gathering his thoughts. When he spoke this time Taran's voice was louder, a little louder then normal. "Water washes away scents, a hard rain will wash away our horse's tracks. Dogs use their noses to track and if our hoofprints are gone they'll never be able to follow us. If you make it storm hard enough we will be safe. Amber, you can save us."

"It's too late for that, Taran!" a deep, familiar voice called out.

Taran rose and turned slowly. Thirty men sat on horses a good hundred feet away (30 metres), spread out in a 270 degree arc, rain splashing down on their armor. There were dogs by the horse's feet, different breeds, different sizes, the only thing they all had in common was the snarl on their snout. Taran looked to the center of the group and there sat Darius Thorral, his helmet's visor up, grinning at Taran. Next to him sat a woman, a woman dressed in the finery of nobility. There were designs made of silverweave and goldweave embroidered into her clothes. Beating precious metals into wire and weaving them into your clothes was one of the signs of wealth in Eurania. The girl was not wearing jewelry beyond a few simple rings on her fingers. Her lack of jewelry, especially gemstones, implied that this was casual dress for her, something she threw on for an outing. If this was casual wear, what did she wear for a formal occaison?

Taran shook his head imperceptively, using the opportunity to scan the ground for rocks or something else he could throw. If he could take Darius out of the fight early then there was a chance he could get the others to scatter. There was nothing viable within his reach. Taran scanned the area around him. He could probably drop a tree easily enough, for whatever good it would do him. The rain was turning the forest floor to mud. Perhaps there was something Taran could use in the treachery of his footings?

"You've got a new breastplate Darius," Taran called across the forest, stalling for time. "Did your companions see what I did to the last one?" He pulled on his tunic, showing it off. "Do they know this is your blood on my tunic?"

Darius laughed. "Yes, they saw what you did. They saw what you did to my men, or rather, what you didn't do. For all your strength, Peasant, you are a coward! My men, my same men, are here!"

Laughter broke out among Darius' troops, a deep guttural laugh that cut Taran to the bone. He took a deep breath, turning to look at the wounded girl behind him. He glared back at Darius, a fire in his eyes. "Do your men know what they're chasing? A noble of the house of Chophol, a Lady that you have beaten and abused for half her life. Do you men know what kind of scum you serve?"

Instead of revulsion and disgust that any moral man would feel, the soldiers broke into laughter again, Darius joining them. When the laughter died down Darius spoke again. "These are my men Taran. And I open my offer to you again. Give me the girl, swear fealty to me and I will make you my knight. Your praises will be sung across Eurania for the deeds..."

"I will never serve you or your family of vipers!" Taran cut off Darius with a shout. "I will show the other nobles how Thorral has treated the house of Chophol! The High Council will be called, your family condemned, and all of Alaria will stand against you!"

Silence rang out across the forest for a moment. The rain pounded down and the dogs snarled, but Darius' lack of response was deafening. Until he started laughing, followed by his men. Taran seethed until Darius quieted his men and responded. "You are remarkably well informed for a peasant, Boy, but there is much you need to know. There is no High Council, there is no King and without one there will soon be no Alaria. Thorral will soon be her own nation and I am giving you one last chance to join me," he paused, just for a second, "or you will die."

Taran didn't wait any longer, he launched himself forward, toward a tree about six or seven inches in diameter. He could knock that tree down then toss it into Darius. Thee Thorral Lord could heal himself, but he would never be able to get out from under a thousand pounds of wood.

If he had reached the tree. Taran had a bad footing, falling flat on his face instead of leaping through the air, his forward momentum sending his sliding across the forest floor, coating him in mud and brush.

Things were about to go from bad to worse.

 

[DarkEmpress]

Amber’s entire body tensed up the moment she heard Darius’ voice. Her eyes shot to Taran … she feared for his life. There were thirty of them … a single man stood no chance against them.

Amber’s fear doubled once her eyes riveted on Lady Valaria Thorral, dressed in an exquisite deep red dress and cape with intricate gold weave embroidery embossed on her clothing. She was Darius’ cousin, a product of a marriage that King Urkorin himself had organised between Lord Thorral’s brother and the eldest daughter of Lord Malnor. The Malnor family has a very unique sonic talent that utilises a low frequency sound wave to throw a person off balance, a sonic boom that can disorientate individuals within its range and a subliminal vocal hypnosis that is only effective in a non-combat situation.

Amber slowly raised herself from the ground as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Taran was bravely trying to convince Darius’ followers that they should fear him. Amber’s brow furrowed into a frown as she looked at Taran’s tunic for the first time. He managed to draw blood from Darius?

His attempts were met with laughter.

Taran turned and let his eyes roam over Amber’s frail body, as she stood behind him. Amber wanted to stop him … she wouldn’t let him sacrifice his life for her. She heard Taran once again try and appeal to Darius’ followers of the heinous acts that had been committed against Amber. She closed her eyes as his words rang out in the woods … and were met with laughter once again. Many of these men that surrounded them were her tormentors. They all got a thrill out of seeing who could hurt her the most.

Fury started building in Amber. For all the years of torment … and suffering … and pain. For her parents that were ripped out of her life … for a life that she never had. The life that she had to witness them living in luxury … feeding off of her ability … using her! For her brother that she probably wouldn’t know if she saw him now … for the Chophol family that has been torn apart … and scattered to the corners of Eurania.

Amber’s eyes were turning a molten black colour, as pitch black clouds started rolling in across the mountains … blocking out the sun … plunging everything into darkness as multiple streaks of lightning started lighting up the sky in the distance. The wind slowly picking up.

Amber watched in horror as Taran tried to move forward, only to have his feet slip on the muddy soil beneath him … sending him plummeting to the floor. Her eyes looked around wildly, noting the smug look on Darius’ face … making his eyes glint with a tinge of evil menace. Looking around, she saw the same look reflected in all his followers.

Amber suddenly remembered the small dagger that was still firmly clasped in her hand … she had forgotten about it. Looking at the dagger for a moment, she closed her violet blue eyes, determination setting into her body language as she opened her eyes.

“Tear him limb from limb,” Darius snarled with his sword pointing at Taran.

“STOP!” Amber screamed, as she stepped forward. Her eyes were nearly black with rage, as all the members of the party suddenly noted the extreme change in weather for the first time. They all knew exactly what happens when Amber loses her temper.

Darius’ eyes shot to her, and his entire demeanour changed from that of a heartless killer to that of an experienced seducer as he tried to ply Amber into submission. “Now, now, Amber. Why don’t you take a deep breath my dear, and calm a bit down. You wouldn’t want to hurt Taran as a result of one of your storms … now would you?” he asked in the voice of an evil serpent, closing in on his helpless prey.

Amber raised the dagger in her hand and pointed it to her heart. “If you harm a hair on his head Darius, I swear to god I will kill myself,” Amber spat at him as the wind flayed her hair about her face, making her look extremely dangerous … the determination in her eyes unmistakable. She would not surrender to them … she had done it enough times in her life. She was not going back … and if death was the only way to free herself from a life of hell … then so be it.

“You have single-handedly made absolutely sure … that there is nothing in Eurania worth living for,” Amber hissed at him, as she sunk the blade a few millimetres into her own flesh … letting a trickle of crimson liquid stain across her dress. “I have fantasised about this for YEARS!” Amber screamed at him.

“I fucking DARE you!!”

 

[Felix80]

While Amber distracted them Taran found his footing and lifted himself up to his hands and knees. That's when Darius called for him to be torn limb from limb. Taran coudn't help but smile. "Let them try," he murmured, his eyes scanning the ground for a weapon. His focus was still on taking out Darius, and while he was maybe fifteen feet closer he was way out of melee range. Taran needed something to throw. Of course, if the idiots were stupid enough to get within his grip he could just throw one of their horses at Darius.

The men edged their mounts toward Taran. The peasant boy readied himself, rolling his neck slightly.

"STOP!"

Taran looked over his shoulder at Amber's voice and saw her standing. He shook his head and turned back to face his assailants. To his surprize they had stopped as well and were scanning the sky. It was already raining, but now Amber had blocked out the sun. Darius started talking to her and that was when Taran sptted it.

It was just a small stone, not quite two inches in diameter, and sitting maybe two feet away. All eyes were on Amber, no one was looking at him. Taran stretched his arm out and picked the rock up. He stood, getting a bead on Darius as he approached, the lady at his side. As he closed the Thorral lord spoke to Amber. Taran was about ready to throw when he heard Amber say, “If you harm a hair on his head Darius, I swear to god I will kill myself."

Taran riveted around. His world stopped turning as Amber put the dagger to her breast. Amber continued speaking, but it was lost to Taran, as he watched the blade press in, staining her blue dress. Taran heard his voice shout out, "Amber, no!" before he even realized he was speaking.

Behind Taran, Darius turned toward Lady Valaria and nodded as he walked his horse behind hers. The Thorral Lady smiled a wicked smile, took a deep breath and opened her mouth. Silenced bellowed forth, followed by the howling of the dogs. Her voice's frequency was well below human hearing range, but affected the inner ear, throwing anyone who heard it off balance.

Taran's hands flew out as he tried to steady himself, the rock rocketing off, making a clean hole through a tree over 50 feet away. Steadying himself worked for less then a quarter second and Taran dropped, slamming hard into the ground, covering himself in mud as up and down lost all meaning. He flailed around uselessly on the ground as he tried to make sense of the world. He worked his mouth open and closed, reflexiely trying to get his jaw to make his ears pop; succeeding in filling his mouth with mud and grass.

 

[DarkEmpress]

She heard Taran shout "Amber, no!"

For a moment her eyes left Darius’ and she focussed her blue depths on him, the defeat clearly written in them. There was no way that Taran could save them both. She could not just stand there and watch them strike him down … she could not let herself be captured either. It was inevitable.

Amber’s eyes filled with tears as she tightened her grip on the dagger. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Taran brokenly. He was a mere peasant, a man with a beautiful heart with soft and caring eyes. His first mistake was to try and help her … and that mistake would cost him his life.

Valaria took a breath of air as Amber started pressing the dagger into her flesh, a cry of pain echoing through the forest. Amber could feel her sense of balance being shattered by Valaria’s subsonic screech as she fell to the ground, the dagger slipping from her hand before it reached its mark.

Amber lay helpless on the floor, the world spinning nauseatingly around her as tears streaked across her cheeks. It’s over … tomorrow I become Mrs Tirius Thorral.

The little sliver of hope that Amber had left in her heart … died.

 

[Felix80]

The sound didn't hurt, not in the conventional sense, but Taran had lost all semblance of balance. He'd swallowed a good amount of mud before he rolled over onto his back. It wasn't a gentle roll, more of a jerking sprawl, but he'd gotten his face out of the mud, which was all Taran could hope for in that moment. Now he wouldn't drown.

“Enough Valaria, it will take time for them to recover enough to ride, no need to make their ears bleed,” Darius said as he turned his horse back toward her. The ornately dressed noble woman closed her mouth and the sound no one could hear came to an end.

Taran felt it almost immediately. His body ceased writhing as gravity came back into focus. He lay there considering the situation as rain poured down on him filtered through the treetops. Darius, dangerous and ruthless as he could be, was no longer the main threat. He'd need to take out the Malnor first. His great-grandfather had warned him about that family, but he hadn't said they'd aligned with the Thorrals. He needed to hit her with something; throw something at her because he couldn't cross the distance between them faster then she could scream him down.

“Thank you cousin,” Darius said as he rode past her, approaching Taran. He turned his horse sideways and leaned over his saddle to look Taran in the eye. “Well peasant, you're not unstoppable after all. You may still be useful. Swear fealty to me Taran, and I'll give you the girl. That's what you want isn't it? Tirius won't be happy, but there are other nobles. Perhaps we can broker an alliance with the Fire Lords, mutually beneficial, but ultimately up to my father. The head viper in your parlance.”

Taran didn't answer. He coughed a few times, spitting out mud as he rolled over and got his feet under him in an unsteady crouching position.

“Kneeling already Taran? Excellent,” Darius said with a bit of laughter leaking through into his voice.

Taran stood, slipping a hand under the ribcage of Darius' horse. He lifted the animal easily, Darius flailing his arms as he rolled off the animal. Valaria's eyes went wide as Taran launched the horse at her. She didn't have time to scream before the two animals collided.

Taran ignored her for a moment, crossing to Darius, grabbing him by the belt and drawing the Thorral's sword. As Taran crossed to a nearby tree he lifted Darius up so the man's shins were at Taran's eye level. He pulled the sword back, making sure the flat of the blade was parallel to the ground, and rammed it into Darius' abdomen until once again the hilt touched armor. He didn't stop there this time. Taran bent the handle of the sword up, locking the noble into place. Then he stepped behind the tree and bent up the business end of the sword, completely trapping Darius off the ground.

Turning from the tree Taran surveyed the situation. Amber was still on the ground, the soldiers were still holding tight. The horse he'd thrown into Valaria got onto it's feet with a kick, revealing the well dressed woman lying on the ground with some red staining part of the dress. Before he got a good look Darius shouted for his men to attack Taran. Taran turned, grabbed the trunk of the tree Darius was pinned to and lifted, uprooting the tree easily. With a grunt he spun and tossed the tree into the air like a hammer throw. It went flying over the treetops and then down out of sight.

For a long moment no one said anything. Valaria moaned. A moment later a soldier sighed and said, “He'll have our heads if anything happens to Lady Valaria. We better get her back to the manor.”

“He'll have our heads if we don't come back with the girl,” another soldier said, indicating Amber.

“You want her, you fight the peasant,” a different soldier said, dismounting and crossing to the Lady Valaria. The voice was muffled by the helmet, but Taran was fairly sure it was the older medic from the field.

Taran crossed to Amber, kneeling down to check on her. “Are you alright Amber?”