The Ambush
- Thread starter Arius
- Start date
queen-mab
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2001
- Posts
- 176
Princess Skye
Princess Skye’s room in the eastern tower was crowded with women, all of them clucking and murmuring amongst themselves as they helped to fill the open coffer which stood at the foot of her narrow bed. Gowns of silk and samite, cloaks trimmed with vair and miniver, shoes laced and shoes buckled were heaped in multi-coloured splendour all around. Chief amongst them, marshalling her handmaids like a batallion of soldiers, was old Dame Honeyfair, the Princess Skye’s nurse.
“Mind you wear the thick woolen stockings, my chick – autumn sunlight gives little heat, and you know how easily you take cold!” Briskly she bundled the scratchy knitted tubes into Skye’s hands, and looped a pair of undyed garters over them.
“These look more like bandages than stockings,” Skye whispered under her breath, making a wry face. “And these garters would better serve as a tourniquet for some poor wounded knight.” How she longed for a pair of scarlet silk garters like the ones the court ladies wore! How she had sighed to see such garters given as tokens to lovelorn knights who fought in the tournaments to gain a lady's favour!
Dame Honeyfair regarded her sharply, the starched white wimple flying like the wings of a goose as she turned round to face her royal nurseling. Sometimes Skye was almost certain that the old woman could read her thoughts. “You must bind your breasts tightly, my girl, lest you appear wanton. Over the summer you have bloomed and blossomed like a fat guinea fowl.”
Princess Skye blinked. A fat guinea fowl indeed. More like a long-limbed and snowy breasted swan, with a waist that could be spanned by a knight’s reaching fingers – if ever a knight were to be allowed to come so close to her.
“The scarlet kirtle I will allow you to wear on the journey, as it is made of warm wool,” Dame Honeyfair decided. She had never even paused for breath yet, or so it seemed to Skye.
The dress in question was cut in the newest fashion, skimming close to the body and flaring out into a sweeping skirt. Skye and her ladies had sewn it over the past winter, and it was tighter now than it had been when it was first made. Wearing it, Skye always felt a strange kind of power that welled up from the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling of being somehow more alive...more herself. Maybe it was because this was the first truly grown-up gown she had ever possessed. It made her feel that one day...maybe sooner than she or anyone else guessed...she would suddenly be a Lady whom men turned to look upon.
She could remember the way that men had always stopped to look at her mother the Queen, in those days before the fever took her life. Queen Amelie had been a woman that a man would die for...or kill for. Never, no matter how many times she was told that she had her mother’s face, could Skye imagine herself having that kind of effect on anyone. Amidst the gilded, gemmed and glittering ladies of her father’s court, Skye was used to walking unnoticed. At banquets she was seated with the children still. At night she slept in a room with her old nurse. It seemed as if she would never grow up.
Once, of course, when she had been swimming in the lake, singing blithely and completely oblivious to the fact that she was not alone, she had pulled herself out of the water and suddenly felt eyes upon her. It was Simon, her attendant and sometimes bodyguard. Even as surprised and embarrassed as she was to be caught bathing, she had noticed the strange way that he looked at her. The way his eyes had lingered...and travelled...and traced over every inch of her naked flesh. His dark, fleshy mouth had been slightly open...he had looked almost as though he were tasting her with his eyes. Not that Simon was a man, of course. But...still. There were times when remembering this incident made a warm flush spread over her face. There was something more to it than she could explain to herself.
Dame Honeyfair’s strident voice called the princess back to the present with a jolt. “And here is a nice heavy surcoat to wear over the kirtle – a good stout one I made for you myself.” She held up the surcoat with a gleam in her sharp old eyes. It was heavy, shapeless, and so deeply furred that it looked like the pelt of a bear. No one seeing Skye in a garment like that would even know she was female...probably what the old woman had in mind.
“ Keep the hood of your cloak pulled well down around your face, my lamb. It will keep the sun from making you freckle any more than you already have...and it will also keep lascivious men from gaping at you when you stop for meat.”
Princess Skye sighed and glanced at her reflection in the polished silver mirror which had once belonged to her mother. Her long red hair, freshly washed and hanging loose around her shoulders to dry, extended past her knees. Her eyes were tawny and gold-flecked, like the bottom of a streambed when sunshine sparkles upon it. Her skin, delicately freckled despite the numerous buttermilk washes and crushed strawberry lotions Dame Honeyfair inflicted upon her daily, was white as moonlight. All in all, she thought as she regarded herself critically (since Dame Honeyfair had turned her back for the nonce) it was not a bad picture she presented. The little gap between her front teeth was the only true flaw she could see (besides the freckles) but she had a way of smiling with her lips demurely pressed together...a smile at once merry and slightly wry.
The plump, firm hand of the nurse suddenly pulled the mirror away. Skye looked up questioningly just as a long, slender case was pushed into her hand. She opened it, and found inside a needle-sharp, tapering blade – the misericord with which imperiled ladies defended their honour as a last resort.
“Keep this always to hand,” Dame Honeyfair said, and her faithful old face suddenly seemed almost fierce. “Better to die a martyr’s death, my Princess, than to see your maiden’s flesh defiled.”
Skye swallowed hard and nodded.
Princess Skye’s room in the eastern tower was crowded with women, all of them clucking and murmuring amongst themselves as they helped to fill the open coffer which stood at the foot of her narrow bed. Gowns of silk and samite, cloaks trimmed with vair and miniver, shoes laced and shoes buckled were heaped in multi-coloured splendour all around. Chief amongst them, marshalling her handmaids like a batallion of soldiers, was old Dame Honeyfair, the Princess Skye’s nurse.
“Mind you wear the thick woolen stockings, my chick – autumn sunlight gives little heat, and you know how easily you take cold!” Briskly she bundled the scratchy knitted tubes into Skye’s hands, and looped a pair of undyed garters over them.
“These look more like bandages than stockings,” Skye whispered under her breath, making a wry face. “And these garters would better serve as a tourniquet for some poor wounded knight.” How she longed for a pair of scarlet silk garters like the ones the court ladies wore! How she had sighed to see such garters given as tokens to lovelorn knights who fought in the tournaments to gain a lady's favour!
Dame Honeyfair regarded her sharply, the starched white wimple flying like the wings of a goose as she turned round to face her royal nurseling. Sometimes Skye was almost certain that the old woman could read her thoughts. “You must bind your breasts tightly, my girl, lest you appear wanton. Over the summer you have bloomed and blossomed like a fat guinea fowl.”
Princess Skye blinked. A fat guinea fowl indeed. More like a long-limbed and snowy breasted swan, with a waist that could be spanned by a knight’s reaching fingers – if ever a knight were to be allowed to come so close to her.
“The scarlet kirtle I will allow you to wear on the journey, as it is made of warm wool,” Dame Honeyfair decided. She had never even paused for breath yet, or so it seemed to Skye.
The dress in question was cut in the newest fashion, skimming close to the body and flaring out into a sweeping skirt. Skye and her ladies had sewn it over the past winter, and it was tighter now than it had been when it was first made. Wearing it, Skye always felt a strange kind of power that welled up from the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling of being somehow more alive...more herself. Maybe it was because this was the first truly grown-up gown she had ever possessed. It made her feel that one day...maybe sooner than she or anyone else guessed...she would suddenly be a Lady whom men turned to look upon.
She could remember the way that men had always stopped to look at her mother the Queen, in those days before the fever took her life. Queen Amelie had been a woman that a man would die for...or kill for. Never, no matter how many times she was told that she had her mother’s face, could Skye imagine herself having that kind of effect on anyone. Amidst the gilded, gemmed and glittering ladies of her father’s court, Skye was used to walking unnoticed. At banquets she was seated with the children still. At night she slept in a room with her old nurse. It seemed as if she would never grow up.
Once, of course, when she had been swimming in the lake, singing blithely and completely oblivious to the fact that she was not alone, she had pulled herself out of the water and suddenly felt eyes upon her. It was Simon, her attendant and sometimes bodyguard. Even as surprised and embarrassed as she was to be caught bathing, she had noticed the strange way that he looked at her. The way his eyes had lingered...and travelled...and traced over every inch of her naked flesh. His dark, fleshy mouth had been slightly open...he had looked almost as though he were tasting her with his eyes. Not that Simon was a man, of course. But...still. There were times when remembering this incident made a warm flush spread over her face. There was something more to it than she could explain to herself.
Dame Honeyfair’s strident voice called the princess back to the present with a jolt. “And here is a nice heavy surcoat to wear over the kirtle – a good stout one I made for you myself.” She held up the surcoat with a gleam in her sharp old eyes. It was heavy, shapeless, and so deeply furred that it looked like the pelt of a bear. No one seeing Skye in a garment like that would even know she was female...probably what the old woman had in mind.
“ Keep the hood of your cloak pulled well down around your face, my lamb. It will keep the sun from making you freckle any more than you already have...and it will also keep lascivious men from gaping at you when you stop for meat.”
Princess Skye sighed and glanced at her reflection in the polished silver mirror which had once belonged to her mother. Her long red hair, freshly washed and hanging loose around her shoulders to dry, extended past her knees. Her eyes were tawny and gold-flecked, like the bottom of a streambed when sunshine sparkles upon it. Her skin, delicately freckled despite the numerous buttermilk washes and crushed strawberry lotions Dame Honeyfair inflicted upon her daily, was white as moonlight. All in all, she thought as she regarded herself critically (since Dame Honeyfair had turned her back for the nonce) it was not a bad picture she presented. The little gap between her front teeth was the only true flaw she could see (besides the freckles) but she had a way of smiling with her lips demurely pressed together...a smile at once merry and slightly wry.
The plump, firm hand of the nurse suddenly pulled the mirror away. Skye looked up questioningly just as a long, slender case was pushed into her hand. She opened it, and found inside a needle-sharp, tapering blade – the misericord with which imperiled ladies defended their honour as a last resort.
“Keep this always to hand,” Dame Honeyfair said, and her faithful old face suddenly seemed almost fierce. “Better to die a martyr’s death, my Princess, than to see your maiden’s flesh defiled.”
Skye swallowed hard and nodded.
Last edited:
queen-mab
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2001
- Posts
- 176
OOC: Greetings 
I just wanted to say how truly talented the rest of you are. I have sincerely enjoyed reading the postings leading up to this point, and I hope I can make an enjoyable addition to the story. Earlier today, Arius asked me to please get the Princess Skye out of the palace and on her way, so I hope you will excuse me for making two posts in a row.
Princess Skye
Some hours later, swaddled in surcoat, mantle, veil (and those thoroughly obnoxious woolen stockings, which made her legs itch terribly) Skye at last stood outside the castle, watching as the final preparations were made for her departure.
After extensive deliberation, her father had decided that a royal carriage would draw attention to itself and invite the ignoble attentions of ruffians on the road. Though Simon had protested vehemently that he would lay down his life in defense of his Princess, the King had only replied tartly that two dead corpses were rarely better than one. As an alternative to the carriage, a bulky "char" -- hardly more than a cart outfitted with curtains -- had been recruited into service. It was long enough for the Princess to recline in, even with Simon and the baggage piled at one end. (Strange and sad that she could not help thinking of Simon as simply part and parcel of the goods she had to lug with her from place to place. An encumbrance.)
There he was now, looking, as always, impeccable. His clothing was always of the smartest cut and most extravagant materials. She guessed it must be his Eastern blood. He was also inclined to use rather too much perfume, and she feared she would have a piercing headache by the time they reached their first rest stop.
Oh well. She ought to have a little more charity for him. He was loyal as a dog, after all. And he had so little joy of life. What a barbaric history he must have had...to be mutilated as he was...forever a freak and an outcast.
He hurried to offer her his arm and helped her to mount up into the char. The drapes were pulled back, and she saw for the first time the "nest" she would occupy on the long road to her uncle's castle. The finest rugs had been spread thickly over the floor, and heaped with silk cushions for her comfort. In a corner was a basket of light provisions and wine. Someone -- no doubt Dame HoneyFair -- had stowed a second pair of the hated woolen stockings "in case of wet weather" -- Skye could hear the oft-repeated words in her mind.
Soon she was settled, her knees tucked up under her chin, and her long mantle arranged decorously around her. She opened the tiny window in the side of the char and peered out, the autumn wind reaching inside to whip her veil away from her face so that she had to put up a hand to keep it from being disarranged entirely. Dame Honeyfair was just coming out of the kitchen garden with a brace of coneys in a cage. "For her Highness' supper," she said, and handed it up to Simon, who looked at the two long-eared faces in dismay. Skye laughed softly and ducked her head to hide her mirth. Poor Simon! He never looked at ease amongst the ordinary scenes of life. She wondered, not for the first time, what his history truly was.
Now Dame Honeyfair was weeping loudly in farewell, mopping at her ruddy cheeks with a kerchief and sobbing out final imprecations about which herbs were best for queasiness and which for rumbling guts....
The driver, with a long-suffering look, commanded the team of horses into leisurely action. The char lurched and began to move slowly through the courtyard, approaching the gates and the open portcullis.
Skye leaned as far as she dared out the window and saw her father the King standing at the top of the stairs. He pressed his hand to his mouth and then lifted it upwards in a gesture of farewell. For a moment their eyes met across the distance, and Skye thought to herself, Please...please...let us live to meet again.
OOC I would love to hear from Simon now. I have certainly disparaged his noble character enough.
I just wanted to say how truly talented the rest of you are. I have sincerely enjoyed reading the postings leading up to this point, and I hope I can make an enjoyable addition to the story. Earlier today, Arius asked me to please get the Princess Skye out of the palace and on her way, so I hope you will excuse me for making two posts in a row.Princess Skye
Some hours later, swaddled in surcoat, mantle, veil (and those thoroughly obnoxious woolen stockings, which made her legs itch terribly) Skye at last stood outside the castle, watching as the final preparations were made for her departure.
After extensive deliberation, her father had decided that a royal carriage would draw attention to itself and invite the ignoble attentions of ruffians on the road. Though Simon had protested vehemently that he would lay down his life in defense of his Princess, the King had only replied tartly that two dead corpses were rarely better than one. As an alternative to the carriage, a bulky "char" -- hardly more than a cart outfitted with curtains -- had been recruited into service. It was long enough for the Princess to recline in, even with Simon and the baggage piled at one end. (Strange and sad that she could not help thinking of Simon as simply part and parcel of the goods she had to lug with her from place to place. An encumbrance.)
There he was now, looking, as always, impeccable. His clothing was always of the smartest cut and most extravagant materials. She guessed it must be his Eastern blood. He was also inclined to use rather too much perfume, and she feared she would have a piercing headache by the time they reached their first rest stop.
Oh well. She ought to have a little more charity for him. He was loyal as a dog, after all. And he had so little joy of life. What a barbaric history he must have had...to be mutilated as he was...forever a freak and an outcast.
He hurried to offer her his arm and helped her to mount up into the char. The drapes were pulled back, and she saw for the first time the "nest" she would occupy on the long road to her uncle's castle. The finest rugs had been spread thickly over the floor, and heaped with silk cushions for her comfort. In a corner was a basket of light provisions and wine. Someone -- no doubt Dame HoneyFair -- had stowed a second pair of the hated woolen stockings "in case of wet weather" -- Skye could hear the oft-repeated words in her mind.
Soon she was settled, her knees tucked up under her chin, and her long mantle arranged decorously around her. She opened the tiny window in the side of the char and peered out, the autumn wind reaching inside to whip her veil away from her face so that she had to put up a hand to keep it from being disarranged entirely. Dame Honeyfair was just coming out of the kitchen garden with a brace of coneys in a cage. "For her Highness' supper," she said, and handed it up to Simon, who looked at the two long-eared faces in dismay. Skye laughed softly and ducked her head to hide her mirth. Poor Simon! He never looked at ease amongst the ordinary scenes of life. She wondered, not for the first time, what his history truly was.
Now Dame Honeyfair was weeping loudly in farewell, mopping at her ruddy cheeks with a kerchief and sobbing out final imprecations about which herbs were best for queasiness and which for rumbling guts....
The driver, with a long-suffering look, commanded the team of horses into leisurely action. The char lurched and began to move slowly through the courtyard, approaching the gates and the open portcullis.
Skye leaned as far as she dared out the window and saw her father the King standing at the top of the stairs. He pressed his hand to his mouth and then lifted it upwards in a gesture of farewell. For a moment their eyes met across the distance, and Skye thought to herself, Please...please...let us live to meet again.
OOC I would love to hear from Simon now. I have certainly disparaged his noble character enough.
Last edited:
William's Conversation with Darius
As Darius awakes, William approaches him to discreetly relay the vision he had in his dream last night:
"Darius, my friend, I must confess to you a revelation which came to me last night in a dream. I fear that the Princess's servents might have been instructed to kill her if an attack were to occur on her transport. I ask of you to let myself, and Alex rush into the battle after the archers open fire, and capture the Princess. If her servents put up resistance, we will dispatch them. However, if they do not, we will try to capture them as well as the Princess. I feel Alex should be by my side if her loyalties are to be questioned, I would rather her disobediance be focused upon me, than upon you, friend. It would be a grave loss to have staged this masterful ambush only to have the Princess executed by one of her servents. We must get to them and rush them away from the battle before any harm can be inflicted upon her."
As Darius awakes, William approaches him to discreetly relay the vision he had in his dream last night:
"Darius, my friend, I must confess to you a revelation which came to me last night in a dream. I fear that the Princess's servents might have been instructed to kill her if an attack were to occur on her transport. I ask of you to let myself, and Alex rush into the battle after the archers open fire, and capture the Princess. If her servents put up resistance, we will dispatch them. However, if they do not, we will try to capture them as well as the Princess. I feel Alex should be by my side if her loyalties are to be questioned, I would rather her disobediance be focused upon me, than upon you, friend. It would be a grave loss to have staged this masterful ambush only to have the Princess executed by one of her servents. We must get to them and rush them away from the battle before any harm can be inflicted upon her."
Darius
OOC: Mab did also omit the fact that there are 2 supply wagons and four guards. This is for the bandit's information
IC: Darius donned his cloak over his black tunic as the day began. He reached down to take hold of his sheathed short sword as the hushed voice was heard. "Lord Darius, I must speak to you." William's voice entered the tent.
Darius looked up "Enter my friend and speak your piece." Darius sat within his chair at his desk listening to William's vision. Darius grinned. "My friend, your insight has always amazed me. I do of course take note of your concerns and visions." Darius rose and began to stride slowly about the tent, his hands behind his back as he spoke. "I however have not survived on visions and omens, merely fact. If the King wished the death of his daughter surely she would not have been permitted to leave the castle. I have watched Brenias and his daughter my friend, with the eyes of a tactician. His love for her eminates from deep within this is true. However he would not allow anything to befall his daughter without vengence." Darius took in hand his stilletto turning it slowly in his hand. "Toran is a mighty kingdom my friend, although the Ruler is aged, I doubt not that he would send death squads to eradicate every bandit within the realm if he was to find her dead."
Darius turned to look toward William "As for Alex, I would advise you to leave her be. She is here for the job and the wealth, you have been with us since she first arrived and well know the seriousness she views her tasks with. Each time we have had her in our service she has not failed, nor have you my friend." Darius places his hand on William's shoulder "I need you both to cooperate with me. If we follow the plan. we will come out of this with gold and more for the ransom. Darius took a step back, buckling his short sword to his hip. I must go and speak with Alex before I depart, the Princess has set out upon the road. Position your archers as we agreed. Do nae think that I take your suggestion as a lesser to my own but I feel that this is the best strategy for this situation and ask that you trust in my judgment."
Darius turned toward the entrance of the tent and began to walk toward Alex's tent. As he crossed to the center of the camp Darius bellowed. "All you dredges, meet within the center of the camp. William has your orders. Follow them and you will have riches, do not and I will slit your throats myself!" Turning on heel Darius arrives at Alex's tent...the flaps open and no one within. Growling to himself he turned to look about for her, catching glimpse of a silhouette against the morning sun perched upon a rock. Walking quickly toward the rock he stops at the base of it, looking up to Alex's slender and alluring figure. "May I have a moment to speak with you Alex?" Darius's voice is weakened as the sound is caught within his throat as the beauty of the mercenary takes hold of his senses. He clears his throat and maintains a strong stance as he awaits reply.
OOC: Mab did also omit the fact that there are 2 supply wagons and four guards. This is for the bandit's information
IC: Darius donned his cloak over his black tunic as the day began. He reached down to take hold of his sheathed short sword as the hushed voice was heard. "Lord Darius, I must speak to you." William's voice entered the tent.
Darius looked up "Enter my friend and speak your piece." Darius sat within his chair at his desk listening to William's vision. Darius grinned. "My friend, your insight has always amazed me. I do of course take note of your concerns and visions." Darius rose and began to stride slowly about the tent, his hands behind his back as he spoke. "I however have not survived on visions and omens, merely fact. If the King wished the death of his daughter surely she would not have been permitted to leave the castle. I have watched Brenias and his daughter my friend, with the eyes of a tactician. His love for her eminates from deep within this is true. However he would not allow anything to befall his daughter without vengence." Darius took in hand his stilletto turning it slowly in his hand. "Toran is a mighty kingdom my friend, although the Ruler is aged, I doubt not that he would send death squads to eradicate every bandit within the realm if he was to find her dead."
Darius turned to look toward William "As for Alex, I would advise you to leave her be. She is here for the job and the wealth, you have been with us since she first arrived and well know the seriousness she views her tasks with. Each time we have had her in our service she has not failed, nor have you my friend." Darius places his hand on William's shoulder "I need you both to cooperate with me. If we follow the plan. we will come out of this with gold and more for the ransom. Darius took a step back, buckling his short sword to his hip. I must go and speak with Alex before I depart, the Princess has set out upon the road. Position your archers as we agreed. Do nae think that I take your suggestion as a lesser to my own but I feel that this is the best strategy for this situation and ask that you trust in my judgment."
Darius turned toward the entrance of the tent and began to walk toward Alex's tent. As he crossed to the center of the camp Darius bellowed. "All you dredges, meet within the center of the camp. William has your orders. Follow them and you will have riches, do not and I will slit your throats myself!" Turning on heel Darius arrives at Alex's tent...the flaps open and no one within. Growling to himself he turned to look about for her, catching glimpse of a silhouette against the morning sun perched upon a rock. Walking quickly toward the rock he stops at the base of it, looking up to Alex's slender and alluring figure. "May I have a moment to speak with you Alex?" Darius's voice is weakened as the sound is caught within his throat as the beauty of the mercenary takes hold of his senses. He clears his throat and maintains a strong stance as he awaits reply.
Alex
Alex made no attempt to hide the fact that she was watching the conversation between Darius and William through the partially opened tent flap. Her eyes narrowed as she watched them gesture towards her tent several times. They should know by now that she was not foolish enough to blackmail or even think of betraying the group. A lone woman like herself, no matter how skilled she may be, could ill afford such a risk.
She tossed the apple core over her shoulder and tucked her knife away in one of her numerous hidden pockets. Her eyes darkened to a deep indigo color as she watched Darius approach her rock. Even after his request, she remained perched on the boulder as she met his gaze unwaveringly before finally hopping off to land lightly on the ground.
She was a tiny thing, looking even smaller and more delicate when standing next to someone so large. She lifted her chin proudly as she faced him, one slender hand resting lightly on the hilt of her short sword. “What is it that you wish to speak with me?” her voice had a soft musical quality to it and if one listened carefully, a unique accent could be detected.
Alex made no attempt to hide the fact that she was watching the conversation between Darius and William through the partially opened tent flap. Her eyes narrowed as she watched them gesture towards her tent several times. They should know by now that she was not foolish enough to blackmail or even think of betraying the group. A lone woman like herself, no matter how skilled she may be, could ill afford such a risk.
She tossed the apple core over her shoulder and tucked her knife away in one of her numerous hidden pockets. Her eyes darkened to a deep indigo color as she watched Darius approach her rock. Even after his request, she remained perched on the boulder as she met his gaze unwaveringly before finally hopping off to land lightly on the ground.
She was a tiny thing, looking even smaller and more delicate when standing next to someone so large. She lifted her chin proudly as she faced him, one slender hand resting lightly on the hilt of her short sword. “What is it that you wish to speak with me?” her voice had a soft musical quality to it and if one listened carefully, a unique accent could be detected.
Last edited:
Darius
Darius looked quickly over Alex, his eyes taking a sip of her seductive form, quickly taking into realization his action he locked himself with her eyes. "The Princess has departed from the castle. It is time we moved into position. I need not tell you what you already know Alex. Though I know it has little meaning to you, I have no reason to doubt your loyalty to the task or to the mission as to your loyalty to the band...well this is inconsequential." Darius paused for a moment, looking about for a moment to ensure their privacy . "Though you and William are both best at what you do. I have noted some tension between the two of you." Darius strayed his eyes to her hand resting upon her sleeping blade. "We must work together. If we fail we shall be dead or hunted. If we can avoid this I am sure you can agree it would be best." Darius turned and began to walk away. Stopping a few steps away he turned back to her, his voice quieter though maintaining the same depth."Perhaps after the ambush, you would join me for a glass of wine within my tent? It is your option of course, but you would do me a great honor." Darius stood silent for a moment then giving her a curt bow, he turned quickly, his cape dancing behind him as he began to return to the assembled brigands within the center of the camp.
Darius looked quickly over Alex, his eyes taking a sip of her seductive form, quickly taking into realization his action he locked himself with her eyes. "The Princess has departed from the castle. It is time we moved into position. I need not tell you what you already know Alex. Though I know it has little meaning to you, I have no reason to doubt your loyalty to the task or to the mission as to your loyalty to the band...well this is inconsequential." Darius paused for a moment, looking about for a moment to ensure their privacy . "Though you and William are both best at what you do. I have noted some tension between the two of you." Darius strayed his eyes to her hand resting upon her sleeping blade. "We must work together. If we fail we shall be dead or hunted. If we can avoid this I am sure you can agree it would be best." Darius turned and began to walk away. Stopping a few steps away he turned back to her, his voice quieter though maintaining the same depth."Perhaps after the ambush, you would join me for a glass of wine within my tent? It is your option of course, but you would do me a great honor." Darius stood silent for a moment then giving her a curt bow, he turned quickly, his cape dancing behind him as he began to return to the assembled brigands within the center of the camp.
queen-mab
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2001
- Posts
- 176
Princess Skye
Within the jolting char, Skye looked across at Simon and rolled her eyes. Luckily he did not see her. As usual, he had his nose buried in a book. She could not quite make out what it was that he was reading, but he certainly was concentrating.
She sighed and shifted position, trying for the sixth or seventh time in as many minutes to arrange the cushions behind her back so that she would not feel the hard sides of the char bruising her spine with every bump in the road. As usual, her actions were futile. She made a little sound of protest as a particularly large bump made her head fly back against the wall of the char.
Finally Simon looked up. Skye turned her head away and pretended to be busying herself with the contents of the provisions basket. She was not sure why she felt she could not return his gaze. After all, Simon was like a second nursemaid to her. He had been with her for ages, always fussing, always watching. In many ways he was just a younger, darker, slightly huskier-voiced version of Dame Honeyfair. It was not as though he were a man.
Her woollen stockings itched abominably. The heavy fur surcoat was making her sweat. With a muffled growl of irritation, Skye suddenly unhooked her long mantle and began pulling at the surcoat in good earnest. She did not care that she actually heard a few careful stitches snap as she yanked her head through the tight neckline opening. Of course her veil tumbled free of its pins and had to be newly arranged, but that was a small price to pay for being cool again.
"Dame Honeyfair must have been a royal torturer before she became a royal nurse," the Princess grumbled, her hands held high above her head, pinning her veil. Her small, but sweetly rounded breasts peeped out from her kirtle as she closed her eyes and smiled at the blissful coolness of the autumn air. Against the tight scarlet wool, the little nubbins of her nipples had hardened like stones, awakened into a strangely disturbing awareness by the kiss of the keen forest breeze.
Skye settled back against her cushions, and discreetly shook herself, both hands pulling at the too-tight bodice of her scarlet
gown so that it once more covered the swell of her breasts completely. She dared to raise a guilty glance to Simon, but saw to her relief that he did not seem to have ever looked up from his book. Why would he, after all? A man in his condition could hardly have more interest in women than fish had interest in boats.
A sly look came over the Princess's face. Taking advantage of the eunuch's complete abstraction, she began stealthily to reach her hands up beneath the hem of her skirt. Ahhh...there it was. Hateful, hateful knots! In a trice she had the first garter untied, and the first horrid woollen stocking pulled off. The second followed only a few heartbeats later. Mutinously, she threw the lot out the window of the char, smiling with satisfaction as she saw them land in a ditch. She stretched her long legs out luxuriously for a moment, and wriggled her toes against the soft lynx-skin rug.
When she raised her head again, she saw, to her consternation, the dark eyes of Simon riveted upon her from the other side of the char.
Within the jolting char, Skye looked across at Simon and rolled her eyes. Luckily he did not see her. As usual, he had his nose buried in a book. She could not quite make out what it was that he was reading, but he certainly was concentrating.
She sighed and shifted position, trying for the sixth or seventh time in as many minutes to arrange the cushions behind her back so that she would not feel the hard sides of the char bruising her spine with every bump in the road. As usual, her actions were futile. She made a little sound of protest as a particularly large bump made her head fly back against the wall of the char.
Finally Simon looked up. Skye turned her head away and pretended to be busying herself with the contents of the provisions basket. She was not sure why she felt she could not return his gaze. After all, Simon was like a second nursemaid to her. He had been with her for ages, always fussing, always watching. In many ways he was just a younger, darker, slightly huskier-voiced version of Dame Honeyfair. It was not as though he were a man.
Her woollen stockings itched abominably. The heavy fur surcoat was making her sweat. With a muffled growl of irritation, Skye suddenly unhooked her long mantle and began pulling at the surcoat in good earnest. She did not care that she actually heard a few careful stitches snap as she yanked her head through the tight neckline opening. Of course her veil tumbled free of its pins and had to be newly arranged, but that was a small price to pay for being cool again.
"Dame Honeyfair must have been a royal torturer before she became a royal nurse," the Princess grumbled, her hands held high above her head, pinning her veil. Her small, but sweetly rounded breasts peeped out from her kirtle as she closed her eyes and smiled at the blissful coolness of the autumn air. Against the tight scarlet wool, the little nubbins of her nipples had hardened like stones, awakened into a strangely disturbing awareness by the kiss of the keen forest breeze.
Skye settled back against her cushions, and discreetly shook herself, both hands pulling at the too-tight bodice of her scarlet
gown so that it once more covered the swell of her breasts completely. She dared to raise a guilty glance to Simon, but saw to her relief that he did not seem to have ever looked up from his book. Why would he, after all? A man in his condition could hardly have more interest in women than fish had interest in boats.
A sly look came over the Princess's face. Taking advantage of the eunuch's complete abstraction, she began stealthily to reach her hands up beneath the hem of her skirt. Ahhh...there it was. Hateful, hateful knots! In a trice she had the first garter untied, and the first horrid woollen stocking pulled off. The second followed only a few heartbeats later. Mutinously, she threw the lot out the window of the char, smiling with satisfaction as she saw them land in a ditch. She stretched her long legs out luxuriously for a moment, and wriggled her toes against the soft lynx-skin rug.
When she raised her head again, she saw, to her consternation, the dark eyes of Simon riveted upon her from the other side of the char.
Alex
Alex’s eyes hardened like sparkling amethysts at Darius’ words as she bit out her words slowly and carefully, “I work alone, depending on no one.”
There was a reason why she never stayed too long with one group or became too attached to one person. The painful memories of her past surfaced like a roaring dragon in her mind. For an instance the sadness, grief, and agony of what she survived so long ago, could be seen in her expressive eyes before she looked away towards the sun.
“Have no fear, sir, though William and I have our differences we are both professionals. However, do inform your second that it would more prudent to keep his own eyes on his back rather then on me.”
Her face remained expressionless as she listened to his offer before he bowed to leave. His manners were not what she expected. In fact, his mannerisms were quite refined for an outlaw. She crossed her arms as she watched him walk confidently toward his group.
A small smile touched her lips as she considered his invitation. It was a tempting offer, to be able to sit and converse with an intelligent and charismatic man. She had been living and wandering alone for so long that she could not recall the last civilized conversation she had.
She shook her head to disperse the silly thoughts and sighed. After the success of the ambush, it was more likely the Princess would be the one sharing Darius’ company and most likely his tent. She had seen his eyes when he laid out the plans. Though money and riches were the goal, the Princess herself was the ultimate prize.
Alex headed towards the gathering bandits. She reminded herself that she was here for the gold and nothing more. She savored the warm feeling Darius’ invitation gave her for a moment longer before throwing it aside.
She gave no more thought to the invitation and chided herself for momentarily feeling happy. The offer was simply words of courtesy nothing more. Then why did she feel such a sense of disappointment?
By the time Alex had joined the gathering, her steely exterior was in place with a renewed sense of determination. After the success of the ambush, she would be leaving. Though fleeting, the few emotions she just felt were ones she had long ago buried and thought were extinguished. To have them surface now was rather disconcerting and a warning that it was time to move.
Alex’s eyes hardened like sparkling amethysts at Darius’ words as she bit out her words slowly and carefully, “I work alone, depending on no one.”
There was a reason why she never stayed too long with one group or became too attached to one person. The painful memories of her past surfaced like a roaring dragon in her mind. For an instance the sadness, grief, and agony of what she survived so long ago, could be seen in her expressive eyes before she looked away towards the sun.
“Have no fear, sir, though William and I have our differences we are both professionals. However, do inform your second that it would more prudent to keep his own eyes on his back rather then on me.”
Her face remained expressionless as she listened to his offer before he bowed to leave. His manners were not what she expected. In fact, his mannerisms were quite refined for an outlaw. She crossed her arms as she watched him walk confidently toward his group.
A small smile touched her lips as she considered his invitation. It was a tempting offer, to be able to sit and converse with an intelligent and charismatic man. She had been living and wandering alone for so long that she could not recall the last civilized conversation she had.
She shook her head to disperse the silly thoughts and sighed. After the success of the ambush, it was more likely the Princess would be the one sharing Darius’ company and most likely his tent. She had seen his eyes when he laid out the plans. Though money and riches were the goal, the Princess herself was the ultimate prize.
Alex headed towards the gathering bandits. She reminded herself that she was here for the gold and nothing more. She savored the warm feeling Darius’ invitation gave her for a moment longer before throwing it aside.
She gave no more thought to the invitation and chided herself for momentarily feeling happy. The offer was simply words of courtesy nothing more. Then why did she feel such a sense of disappointment?
By the time Alex had joined the gathering, her steely exterior was in place with a renewed sense of determination. After the success of the ambush, she would be leaving. Though fleeting, the few emotions she just felt were ones she had long ago buried and thought were extinguished. To have them surface now was rather disconcerting and a warning that it was time to move.
HippieChick
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2001
- Posts
- 142
Simon
There were days that Simon regretted "becoming" a eunuch. When Skye was younger, it did not trouble him so much. There were few women that he had to deal with on a regular basis, and Dame Honeyfair was more mother than she was mistress. But Princess Skye had quickly grown into her own womanhood. She was still young, but at the sight of her body, he was almost betrayed by his own. He had since fitted his undergarments with a special belt to hide his secret. It came in handy with more and more frequency as the princess began to wear more revealing clothing.
She thought he was reading his book, his legs crossed and his back held straight. This was only partially true. Every time she scratched at her stocking-clad legs, it caught his attention. And when the surcoat came off, he wouldn't have been able to tell you what book it was that he was reading. By the time her head was visible again, his eyes were back on his book. But her breasts were still visible in his head.
And now she was removing the stockings! Did she know that he could see her drawers from here? The thought probably never crossed her mind. It was as though she was performing for him right here in the cart, only she hadn't the slightest idea what she was up to.
This time, Princess Skye turned her eyes back to me a moment earlier than Simon had expected. Immediately he allowed his expression to become one of slight dissapproval. "You shouldn't have thrown them out of the cart. You never know when you might need them again."
Simon had never been strict with her; that wasn't his job. Dame Honeyfair took care of that. In the past, he had kept silent over rules broken by the girl on many occasions. Her trust was more important to him than discipline. Simon would rather she did something dangerous with him to watch her than have her go alone. She knew his admonitions were only half-hearted, but there was something else in that look. Did she have some inkling of what he felt?
Simon loved Princess Skye. There was no doubt about that in anyone's mind. The point of contention in Simon's mind was with regards to the shape and form of that love. He would gladly have given his life for her, but the King had made it quite clear that in such a situation, she would probably need his continued protection more than his corpse. The thought was morbid, but Simon frequently worried about the girl's safety.
That dress was quite distracting to him. He wondered how she'd convinced Dame Honeyfair to allow her out of the castle in such an outfit. Simon attempted to concentrate on the page in front of him. The letters appeared as they did to him years ago, nothing more than lines and dots scribbled in random order.
There were days that Simon regretted "becoming" a eunuch. When Skye was younger, it did not trouble him so much. There were few women that he had to deal with on a regular basis, and Dame Honeyfair was more mother than she was mistress. But Princess Skye had quickly grown into her own womanhood. She was still young, but at the sight of her body, he was almost betrayed by his own. He had since fitted his undergarments with a special belt to hide his secret. It came in handy with more and more frequency as the princess began to wear more revealing clothing.
She thought he was reading his book, his legs crossed and his back held straight. This was only partially true. Every time she scratched at her stocking-clad legs, it caught his attention. And when the surcoat came off, he wouldn't have been able to tell you what book it was that he was reading. By the time her head was visible again, his eyes were back on his book. But her breasts were still visible in his head.
And now she was removing the stockings! Did she know that he could see her drawers from here? The thought probably never crossed her mind. It was as though she was performing for him right here in the cart, only she hadn't the slightest idea what she was up to.
This time, Princess Skye turned her eyes back to me a moment earlier than Simon had expected. Immediately he allowed his expression to become one of slight dissapproval. "You shouldn't have thrown them out of the cart. You never know when you might need them again."
Simon had never been strict with her; that wasn't his job. Dame Honeyfair took care of that. In the past, he had kept silent over rules broken by the girl on many occasions. Her trust was more important to him than discipline. Simon would rather she did something dangerous with him to watch her than have her go alone. She knew his admonitions were only half-hearted, but there was something else in that look. Did she have some inkling of what he felt?
Simon loved Princess Skye. There was no doubt about that in anyone's mind. The point of contention in Simon's mind was with regards to the shape and form of that love. He would gladly have given his life for her, but the King had made it quite clear that in such a situation, she would probably need his continued protection more than his corpse. The thought was morbid, but Simon frequently worried about the girl's safety.
That dress was quite distracting to him. He wondered how she'd convinced Dame Honeyfair to allow her out of the castle in such an outfit. Simon attempted to concentrate on the page in front of him. The letters appeared as they did to him years ago, nothing more than lines and dots scribbled in random order.
Darius
Darius stood before the rag-tag group of thieves. There were 10 in all, excluding himself, Alex and William. Unkempt, ambitious and gruff men, but all unwavering loyal to him. The five before Darius were William's archers. Behind that the remaining five raiders wore long blades at their sides. "The Princess is upon the road, all of you have your orders; archers will ride with William, the rest of you will ride with me and Alex." Darius walked slowly across surveying the group. his features stern as his grey eyes met no one. "Remember my warning, if any of you but William touch the Princess I will kill you myself. Darius reaches into his pocket pulling out a wrapped object. tossing it to William. "That will take care of our lass, it is steeped in mandrake and opium, make sure that you dampen it with hot water first, Will." Darius nods to him. "The logs are placed near the roadside. Alex will cut the ropes when it is time. No one moves before the signal. Alex, and you three will help dispatch the guards. Grenock and Verkas, you two will handle the supply wagons. I will take the reins of the Char." Darius whistled as his black steed appeared from the drinking hole behind the tents. Quickly mounting he continued "We head south into the woods, we will camp tonight and reach EmberFall by tomorrow eve. There, we will divvy the gold." Darius drew his emerald hilted short sword raising above his head "Forward! Move out!" pointing the blade forward he kicked his heels into the horse and galloped into the forest, fading into the morning mist.
Darius stood before the rag-tag group of thieves. There were 10 in all, excluding himself, Alex and William. Unkempt, ambitious and gruff men, but all unwavering loyal to him. The five before Darius were William's archers. Behind that the remaining five raiders wore long blades at their sides. "The Princess is upon the road, all of you have your orders; archers will ride with William, the rest of you will ride with me and Alex." Darius walked slowly across surveying the group. his features stern as his grey eyes met no one. "Remember my warning, if any of you but William touch the Princess I will kill you myself. Darius reaches into his pocket pulling out a wrapped object. tossing it to William. "That will take care of our lass, it is steeped in mandrake and opium, make sure that you dampen it with hot water first, Will." Darius nods to him. "The logs are placed near the roadside. Alex will cut the ropes when it is time. No one moves before the signal. Alex, and you three will help dispatch the guards. Grenock and Verkas, you two will handle the supply wagons. I will take the reins of the Char." Darius whistled as his black steed appeared from the drinking hole behind the tents. Quickly mounting he continued "We head south into the woods, we will camp tonight and reach EmberFall by tomorrow eve. There, we will divvy the gold." Darius drew his emerald hilted short sword raising above his head "Forward! Move out!" pointing the blade forward he kicked his heels into the horse and galloped into the forest, fading into the morning mist.
queen-mab
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2001
- Posts
- 176
Princess Skye
Sighing with boredom as the char lumbered slowly through interminable ranks of trees, Princess Skye leaned over and started to rifle aimlessly through the provisions basket. She helped herself to a ripe red apple, and polished it briskly against the wool of her gown. She raised the fruit to her lips and looked across at Simon. As usual, he was immersed in his book. Poor man! Well, such unfortunate creatures had to find what paltry pleasures they could, she told herself. It could not be easy to consort with either men or women, feeling always somehow...at a loss.
"Simon," she began softly, and paused while she waited for him to look up at her. He did so, but did not close his book, she noticed. Clearly he had no desire to be interrupted. But now her curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
"Simon...there is something I have always wanted to ask you."
That expression he wore...at once both stern and somehow gentle...it was oddly appealing, she found herself thinking suddenly. He was not a bad looking man. In fact, he was almost handsome...in a dark and foreign sort of way. His mouth looked..well...juicy...fleshy like a plum...and promising sweetness in the taste. The princess blushed darkly and chided herself for having such a lively imagination.
"You know I will answer any question, my Princess," he said in that overly obsequious way that she assumed was also part of his Eastern heritage. One could imagine him speaking that way to some fierce vizir in a desert tent.
"Then...what I wanted to know was..." She paused, and the apple slipped from her fingers to land in her lap, just at the juncture of her thighs.
The sudden flash of his eyes was most disconcerting.
"I wanted to ask you, Simon...how did you lose your manhood?"
Sighing with boredom as the char lumbered slowly through interminable ranks of trees, Princess Skye leaned over and started to rifle aimlessly through the provisions basket. She helped herself to a ripe red apple, and polished it briskly against the wool of her gown. She raised the fruit to her lips and looked across at Simon. As usual, he was immersed in his book. Poor man! Well, such unfortunate creatures had to find what paltry pleasures they could, she told herself. It could not be easy to consort with either men or women, feeling always somehow...at a loss.
"Simon," she began softly, and paused while she waited for him to look up at her. He did so, but did not close his book, she noticed. Clearly he had no desire to be interrupted. But now her curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
"Simon...there is something I have always wanted to ask you."
That expression he wore...at once both stern and somehow gentle...it was oddly appealing, she found herself thinking suddenly. He was not a bad looking man. In fact, he was almost handsome...in a dark and foreign sort of way. His mouth looked..well...juicy...fleshy like a plum...and promising sweetness in the taste. The princess blushed darkly and chided herself for having such a lively imagination.
"You know I will answer any question, my Princess," he said in that overly obsequious way that she assumed was also part of his Eastern heritage. One could imagine him speaking that way to some fierce vizir in a desert tent.
"Then...what I wanted to know was..." She paused, and the apple slipped from her fingers to land in her lap, just at the juncture of her thighs.
The sudden flash of his eyes was most disconcerting.
"I wanted to ask you, Simon...how did you lose your manhood?"
Preparing...
Arriving just a short distance from the bend of the road Darius dismounts. Lightly pulling the horse by the reins, he directs through the underbrush to a small glade. Climbing a nearby tree, Darius moves carefully from branch to branch until he reaches a large log suspending by three thongs of thick leather. the last strap rose to the trunk of the tree next to him, held firm by a iron spike set within it., taking a piece of ribbon from a hip pouch, he tied it around the strap, its creamy orange color marking well the spot of which Alex was to hit when the time was right. About him he heard soft voices as the archers moved into their places. The rustling of bushes indicating to him the remaining bandits were settling in place. He slipped down from the branch swinging slightly as he descended landing quietly he swiftly moved across the road, gripped the tree and rose into the branches to mark the other. Through the limbs of the tree he watched Alex moving deftly below, he sighed softly to himself. "What was I expecting? For her to accept my offer. Surely she must think that I am lusting after the princess, but I have never had need of royalty..." Darius spoke to himself as he completed the task. Once the ribbon was secure, he lowered himself from the branches, crawling back into the underbrush, unsheathing his stiletto and sword, crossing them before his face, his ambitious eyes of smoke watched carefully his muscles tensed, gripping the hilts of his blades tighter. All fell still and quiet. Darius turned his head to look toward a nearby branch, seeing William kneeling, awaiting the char and heralding the ambush. "Sometimes Darius, I even amaze myself." the bandit leader said to himself with a silent and twisted laugh."
Arriving just a short distance from the bend of the road Darius dismounts. Lightly pulling the horse by the reins, he directs through the underbrush to a small glade. Climbing a nearby tree, Darius moves carefully from branch to branch until he reaches a large log suspending by three thongs of thick leather. the last strap rose to the trunk of the tree next to him, held firm by a iron spike set within it., taking a piece of ribbon from a hip pouch, he tied it around the strap, its creamy orange color marking well the spot of which Alex was to hit when the time was right. About him he heard soft voices as the archers moved into their places. The rustling of bushes indicating to him the remaining bandits were settling in place. He slipped down from the branch swinging slightly as he descended landing quietly he swiftly moved across the road, gripped the tree and rose into the branches to mark the other. Through the limbs of the tree he watched Alex moving deftly below, he sighed softly to himself. "What was I expecting? For her to accept my offer. Surely she must think that I am lusting after the princess, but I have never had need of royalty..." Darius spoke to himself as he completed the task. Once the ribbon was secure, he lowered himself from the branches, crawling back into the underbrush, unsheathing his stiletto and sword, crossing them before his face, his ambitious eyes of smoke watched carefully his muscles tensed, gripping the hilts of his blades tighter. All fell still and quiet. Darius turned his head to look toward a nearby branch, seeing William kneeling, awaiting the char and heralding the ambush. "Sometimes Darius, I even amaze myself." the bandit leader said to himself with a silent and twisted laugh."
Alex
The sun spilled through the canopy of the forest in liquid beams of light. A playful breeze danced through the treetops tossing leaves here and there. Another puff of wind skimmed over the surface of the road scattering a multitude of leaves in shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown. For all intent and purposes, it was a picture of peace. But for the small entourage rumbling through, the scene would soon change drastically.
Alex was perched on a branch a little further down from the hidden bandits. She blended effortlessly into the shadows as she watched the procession pass below her. The soft orange targets were clearly visible, easy targets. She held ready two wickedly sharp knives in her hands. She looked to Darius’ hiding spot and waited for his signal...
The sun spilled through the canopy of the forest in liquid beams of light. A playful breeze danced through the treetops tossing leaves here and there. Another puff of wind skimmed over the surface of the road scattering a multitude of leaves in shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown. For all intent and purposes, it was a picture of peace. But for the small entourage rumbling through, the scene would soon change drastically.
Alex was perched on a branch a little further down from the hidden bandits. She blended effortlessly into the shadows as she watched the procession pass below her. The soft orange targets were clearly visible, easy targets. She held ready two wickedly sharp knives in her hands. She looked to Darius’ hiding spot and waited for his signal...
Absent Friends
OOC: Well, I was hoping we would hear from William or HippieChick before this attack, however we shall have to hear from them in retrospect. I shall not have access to a computer this weekend so we will try to get in as much as we can today. And besides that, I am getting quite itchy under these leaves
IC: The thundering of the char and its entourage shattered the tranquility of the forest roadside, within the shadows, Darius Hawker narrowed his eyes. Closer and Closer the vehicle drew, Darius could now see it amidst the rising dust risen from the hooves of the guards and the supply wagons behind.
His hand tightened over the hilt of his short sword, turning the blade subtly reflecting a shine of the afternoon sun to the eyes of William. His first in command tapped the foot of the archer next to him, with this the ambush began.
The scream of the hollow-headed arrows echoed through the forest, as the guards horses reared back in alarm, Darius grinned as the sound of two knives whistled through the trees, "Perfect as always Alex.." The abrupt snap of the leather thong was quieted by the loud voices of the confused guards. Darius leapt from his place, the front guard's horse still bucking from the arrows high whistle, extending his arm he struck the man across the jointed neck above his half-plated suit of armor. the force sending him backwards off the horse. Darius did not see, only heard the sound of distress from the other guard opposite him as Alex launched her assault, joining this was the sweet groaning of the released logs accompanied by the agonizing screams of the back guards as the massive objects slammed into their chests. a small rustling and then silence as the remaining bandits dismissed life from the fallen and broken men.
The man before Darius rose from the ground, drawing his long sword, the look of fire within his eyes as he attempted a vicious slash toward Darius, crossing his stiletto over his short sword the clash of steel was heard as blade struck blade. Twisting the two blades skillfully he disarmed the sword from the weakened and off balance opponent, spinning his stiletto in one hand and pivoting his body, his two blades pierced into the guard's throat, the man collapsed into his own lifeblood. This task complete he noted William, his arms extended through the window of the char struggling with something within for a short time, and then, turning to Darius he nodded indicating the task is complete. The sound of another man collapsing caught Darius' attention as Alex; a deadly form of grace and beauty even within the dark and vile scene of battle stood over her lifeless victim.
A loud voice of protest and struggle was heard from within the char...Darius inclined his head. "A man-servant? I was not aware the princess had a man servant as well?" Darius shook his head as he unbuckled a weighted sheathed dagger from his boot. Walking toward the scene of the disturbance he barked out orders; "Remove the armor and throw it in the wagons, roll the bodies into the underbrush, I want nothing remaining to be seen! the last we need is that bastard Brenias' death squads following us!" Moving around the char, Darius found two of his bandits attempting to secure a man of eastern descent as William was binding the hands of a gentle and elegent lady. Her raiments made clear to Darius who she was. "Excellent, a fine job William. Now what shall I do about you?" Darius' eyes steamed of annoyance as his eyes met with the man, tapping the thick hilted dagger in his hand...
OOC: Well, I was hoping we would hear from William or HippieChick before this attack, however we shall have to hear from them in retrospect. I shall not have access to a computer this weekend so we will try to get in as much as we can today. And besides that, I am getting quite itchy under these leaves
IC: The thundering of the char and its entourage shattered the tranquility of the forest roadside, within the shadows, Darius Hawker narrowed his eyes. Closer and Closer the vehicle drew, Darius could now see it amidst the rising dust risen from the hooves of the guards and the supply wagons behind.
His hand tightened over the hilt of his short sword, turning the blade subtly reflecting a shine of the afternoon sun to the eyes of William. His first in command tapped the foot of the archer next to him, with this the ambush began.
The scream of the hollow-headed arrows echoed through the forest, as the guards horses reared back in alarm, Darius grinned as the sound of two knives whistled through the trees, "Perfect as always Alex.." The abrupt snap of the leather thong was quieted by the loud voices of the confused guards. Darius leapt from his place, the front guard's horse still bucking from the arrows high whistle, extending his arm he struck the man across the jointed neck above his half-plated suit of armor. the force sending him backwards off the horse. Darius did not see, only heard the sound of distress from the other guard opposite him as Alex launched her assault, joining this was the sweet groaning of the released logs accompanied by the agonizing screams of the back guards as the massive objects slammed into their chests. a small rustling and then silence as the remaining bandits dismissed life from the fallen and broken men.
The man before Darius rose from the ground, drawing his long sword, the look of fire within his eyes as he attempted a vicious slash toward Darius, crossing his stiletto over his short sword the clash of steel was heard as blade struck blade. Twisting the two blades skillfully he disarmed the sword from the weakened and off balance opponent, spinning his stiletto in one hand and pivoting his body, his two blades pierced into the guard's throat, the man collapsed into his own lifeblood. This task complete he noted William, his arms extended through the window of the char struggling with something within for a short time, and then, turning to Darius he nodded indicating the task is complete. The sound of another man collapsing caught Darius' attention as Alex; a deadly form of grace and beauty even within the dark and vile scene of battle stood over her lifeless victim.
A loud voice of protest and struggle was heard from within the char...Darius inclined his head. "A man-servant? I was not aware the princess had a man servant as well?" Darius shook his head as he unbuckled a weighted sheathed dagger from his boot. Walking toward the scene of the disturbance he barked out orders; "Remove the armor and throw it in the wagons, roll the bodies into the underbrush, I want nothing remaining to be seen! the last we need is that bastard Brenias' death squads following us!" Moving around the char, Darius found two of his bandits attempting to secure a man of eastern descent as William was binding the hands of a gentle and elegent lady. Her raiments made clear to Darius who she was. "Excellent, a fine job William. Now what shall I do about you?" Darius' eyes steamed of annoyance as his eyes met with the man, tapping the thick hilted dagger in his hand...
Last edited:
Alex
Alex went to retrieve her knives while the other bandits hid the bodies. It was a smooth operation as usual. She had to admit, Darius was good, very good. She bent over to tuck a dagger back into her boot and gasped at the sharp pain that shot through her body. She touched her side gingerly and felt warm blood seeping from beneath her tunic.
She sighed and grimaced at herself. The fallen guard had indeed managed to nick her slightly. It was her own fault actually. She was still shaken from the warm feeling Darius had caused from his invitation. Well, this will serve as a reminder for her the next time she felt like that. Or better yet, she had best make sure those feelings remained buried forever.
Before joining the others, Alex willed herself to look calm and composed. She carefully tucked her cap under her belt and over the seeping bloodstain, covering it from sight. The injury was not very serious; she would take care of it when they camped for the night.
The evidence of the ambush was gone by the time Alex returned to the road. She mounted her horse gracefully, ignoring the pain. However, she did flinch slightly and only one person saw the quick flicker of pain that flashed across her face.
Alex went to retrieve her knives while the other bandits hid the bodies. It was a smooth operation as usual. She had to admit, Darius was good, very good. She bent over to tuck a dagger back into her boot and gasped at the sharp pain that shot through her body. She touched her side gingerly and felt warm blood seeping from beneath her tunic.
She sighed and grimaced at herself. The fallen guard had indeed managed to nick her slightly. It was her own fault actually. She was still shaken from the warm feeling Darius had caused from his invitation. Well, this will serve as a reminder for her the next time she felt like that. Or better yet, she had best make sure those feelings remained buried forever.
Before joining the others, Alex willed herself to look calm and composed. She carefully tucked her cap under her belt and over the seeping bloodstain, covering it from sight. The injury was not very serious; she would take care of it when they camped for the night.
The evidence of the ambush was gone by the time Alex returned to the road. She mounted her horse gracefully, ignoring the pain. However, she did flinch slightly and only one person saw the quick flicker of pain that flashed across her face.
HippieChick
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2001
- Posts
- 142
Simon
He was surprised at her question, but it was not one he hadn't answered for others in the past. "It was at a very young age. It was neccessary to work in the Sultan's harem."
This didn't seem to satisfy her curiosity. "Do you regret it?"
Now this was more difficult to answer. He thought about it a moment and then smiled. "No. My position in the harem did indeed cause me trouble, but if I had not chosen that road, I would not be here today to protect and serve you, my lady."
At this, she blushed, perhaps a bit more than he had expected.
The conversation was cut short by the whirring sound of many arrows flying through the air. By the time he got to the little window of the cart, one of the guards had been taken out already. Simon reached into his single bag and pulled out a small club. A great rumbling sound coud be both heard and felt as he crawled over to position himself between the doorway and Princess Skye. Suddenly the horses stopped and the cart came to a shuddering halt, throwing Simon to the ground on the wrong side of the cart, a large chest tipping on top of him. The door busted open and a tough-looking bandit climbed in and removed a kicking and screaming Princess Skye.
No. Not like this. Screaming, Simon threw the chest off of him and ran towards the door. Another bandit with a sword appeared at the door, but Simon's foot connected with the man's face before he was even seen. The bandit fell to the ground outside the cart. Enraged, Simon quickly followed him, gladly stepping on the bandit's unconscious body. It wasn't until he saw two more of the ruffians in front of him that he realized he had lost his club.
The two looked like low-level hired swords. He could take them. There was one to his front on the left, and one on the right. Closing his eyes to prepare himself, he took a deep breath. The sound of a steps forward from both his right and left signalled that like any good bandits, they were going to try to strike him before he was ready. When Simon's eyes opened, he had already begun moving. Using his loose clothing to his advantage, he moved towards the attacker on the right, pulling his robe out to hide his body and taking the thrust into the fabric, but not his skin. He spun about the bandit, ripping the entangled sword out of his grasp. Simon pulled the sword three and quickly slit the man's throat. By the time the other attacker had figured out what had happened, the point of Simon's sword was at his neck.
This was the first point at which Simon had time to examine his surroundings, and the first time at which he realized how ridiculously outnumbered he was. All the guards were dead, and they had Skye, still kicking and squirming. It was a simple matter to see who the leader was. He was the one that Skye had been brought to.
Thoughts of the King's advice fluttered through his head. Still holding the bandit he hadn't killed at bay, he spoke, his voice booming through the forest. "The King will pay whatever ransom you ask, but I have one small request of you. I can kill a fair number of you before you can take me out. So I request that I be allowed to stay with the Princess in order to assure that no harm befalls her before she is returned to her family. If you refuse, many more of you shall die, beginning with this man right here." He leaned the point of the blade into the frightened bandit's neck. "Do we have a deal?"
He was surprised at her question, but it was not one he hadn't answered for others in the past. "It was at a very young age. It was neccessary to work in the Sultan's harem."
This didn't seem to satisfy her curiosity. "Do you regret it?"
Now this was more difficult to answer. He thought about it a moment and then smiled. "No. My position in the harem did indeed cause me trouble, but if I had not chosen that road, I would not be here today to protect and serve you, my lady."
At this, she blushed, perhaps a bit more than he had expected.
The conversation was cut short by the whirring sound of many arrows flying through the air. By the time he got to the little window of the cart, one of the guards had been taken out already. Simon reached into his single bag and pulled out a small club. A great rumbling sound coud be both heard and felt as he crawled over to position himself between the doorway and Princess Skye. Suddenly the horses stopped and the cart came to a shuddering halt, throwing Simon to the ground on the wrong side of the cart, a large chest tipping on top of him. The door busted open and a tough-looking bandit climbed in and removed a kicking and screaming Princess Skye.
No. Not like this. Screaming, Simon threw the chest off of him and ran towards the door. Another bandit with a sword appeared at the door, but Simon's foot connected with the man's face before he was even seen. The bandit fell to the ground outside the cart. Enraged, Simon quickly followed him, gladly stepping on the bandit's unconscious body. It wasn't until he saw two more of the ruffians in front of him that he realized he had lost his club.
The two looked like low-level hired swords. He could take them. There was one to his front on the left, and one on the right. Closing his eyes to prepare himself, he took a deep breath. The sound of a steps forward from both his right and left signalled that like any good bandits, they were going to try to strike him before he was ready. When Simon's eyes opened, he had already begun moving. Using his loose clothing to his advantage, he moved towards the attacker on the right, pulling his robe out to hide his body and taking the thrust into the fabric, but not his skin. He spun about the bandit, ripping the entangled sword out of his grasp. Simon pulled the sword three and quickly slit the man's throat. By the time the other attacker had figured out what had happened, the point of Simon's sword was at his neck.
This was the first point at which Simon had time to examine his surroundings, and the first time at which he realized how ridiculously outnumbered he was. All the guards were dead, and they had Skye, still kicking and squirming. It was a simple matter to see who the leader was. He was the one that Skye had been brought to.
Thoughts of the King's advice fluttered through his head. Still holding the bandit he hadn't killed at bay, he spoke, his voice booming through the forest. "The King will pay whatever ransom you ask, but I have one small request of you. I can kill a fair number of you before you can take me out. So I request that I be allowed to stay with the Princess in order to assure that no harm befalls her before she is returned to her family. If you refuse, many more of you shall die, beginning with this man right here." He leaned the point of the blade into the frightened bandit's neck. "Do we have a deal?"
HippieChick
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2001
- Posts
- 142
OOC: Pardon my brief absence. I probably won't be able to post more than once a day from now on considering that the semester is starting and I have both classes to take and classes to teach.
OOC: Not a problem Hippiechick, but Skye is unconscious. (read post about William applying the cloth to Skye's face) As for the your retaliation, well, that is to be expected.
IC: Darius inclined his head for a moment as the man began to bellow. "Somehow, I do not see you in the position for negotiation. Before you would complete running through that worthless excuse for a thief you would be filled with the iron heads of arrows from my men within the trees. Allow yourself to be binded without resistance and no harm shall come to either of you. The Princess was never meant to be harmed, you however are an oversight that if becomes overly troublesome I will have no choice but to dispose of. You have spirit, this I compliment you for, but I think you would be of no use to Lady Skye dead, now would you? I ask for the last time..Drop your blade sir..." Darius' eyes were of steel as glared at the man, his gaze not once flinching as he stood before him. The man within Simon's grasp looked to the left and the right undecided as to how he would react to the blade ominously close to his throat. Seeing Simon unmoving, Darius raises his hand, the sound of arrows being nocked is heard. "I lower my hand and you die. drop your weapon and I will retract my hand and they will lower their bows." Mocking Simon, Darius curled a dark smile "So, do we have a deal?"
IC: Darius inclined his head for a moment as the man began to bellow. "Somehow, I do not see you in the position for negotiation. Before you would complete running through that worthless excuse for a thief you would be filled with the iron heads of arrows from my men within the trees. Allow yourself to be binded without resistance and no harm shall come to either of you. The Princess was never meant to be harmed, you however are an oversight that if becomes overly troublesome I will have no choice but to dispose of. You have spirit, this I compliment you for, but I think you would be of no use to Lady Skye dead, now would you? I ask for the last time..Drop your blade sir..." Darius' eyes were of steel as glared at the man, his gaze not once flinching as he stood before him. The man within Simon's grasp looked to the left and the right undecided as to how he would react to the blade ominously close to his throat. Seeing Simon unmoving, Darius raises his hand, the sound of arrows being nocked is heard. "I lower my hand and you die. drop your weapon and I will retract my hand and they will lower their bows." Mocking Simon, Darius curled a dark smile "So, do we have a deal?"
Last edited:
HippieChick
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2001
- Posts
- 142
Simon
Simon had been hoping that the bandits would value their own lives and might be willing to bargain for something so paltry as his staying with the princess. He hadn't counted on archers. This was clearly a very well-thought out procedure. Their leader knew what he was doing.
"Very well. I have no intention of dying today, nor of killing anyone. I maintain my request that I be allowed to stay with the princess, but I understand that you must keep me bound." He stepped away from the nervous man and put down the sword.
Simon walked towards their leader and offered his wrists for binding.
Simon had been hoping that the bandits would value their own lives and might be willing to bargain for something so paltry as his staying with the princess. He hadn't counted on archers. This was clearly a very well-thought out procedure. Their leader knew what he was doing.
"Very well. I have no intention of dying today, nor of killing anyone. I maintain my request that I be allowed to stay with the princess, but I understand that you must keep me bound." He stepped away from the nervous man and put down the sword.
Simon walked towards their leader and offered his wrists for binding.
William
OOC: Sorry for my abscence, I have been working overtime, and the Code Red 2 virus completely shut down my home network for all of yesterday and most of today, I just got it back up a couple hours ago. I will post tonight after I have a chance to catch up on my reading of the new posts.
OOC: Sorry for my abscence, I have been working overtime, and the Code Red 2 virus completely shut down my home network for all of yesterday and most of today, I just got it back up a couple hours ago. I will post tonight after I have a chance to catch up on my reading of the new posts.
As his archers dropped the gaurds, William rushed to the vehicle in which the Princess rode. Throwing the door open, he saw only the Princess. Surely she cannot be alone; he assumed there was another servent close by, probably male and very skilled in hand to hand combat. William pressed the special cloth against the Princess's nose, and picked her up out of the vehicle. She kicked and tried to beat William against his head for only a few seconds, before the mixture took effect on her. Once it entered her blood stream, his task was as challenging as carrying a sack of corn meal. He heard what he thought was her male servent running up behind him. The other bandits would take care of him soon enough.
William cleared the site of the ambush and rushed the Princess back to their camp, and into Darius' tent as instructed. There he tied her wrists together loosely, and her ankles as well. William was to wait here for the others to come back, if they were not back by dusk, he was to take the Princess to a special hideout near a river. Only himself and Darius had ever been to this place, the others only knew it by a map, and some did not even know of this place at all. William guessed he had been waiting for a couple hours. Not unusual, as Darius and the others would have to dispose of the dead bodies and clean the mess up, as to not alert any scouts who might come looking for the Princess.
William took some bread out of Darius' rucksack. He was very hungry, and he was sure Darius would not mind his little snack.
Not long after he had begun snacking, the Princess began to wake from her involuntary nap. At first she struggled against the ropes around her ankles and wrists, then realized it was to no avail, and ceased.
"Who are you?" She asked William
"I am one of a few who controls your destiny, m'lady." He said, making a motion to his sword.
"Relax, and you shall not be harmed. Resist, and your stay will not be pleasurable."
William motioned toward the bread and water:
"Would you care for some food, water?"
"Yes, I certainly would." She said.
William tore off a small piece of bread and inserted it into her mouth, she bit his finger savagely.
"AYE!!!! Damnit! You noble folk always bite the hand that feeds you." He screamed at her. He thought he heard her giggle at that.
"Here I am," he continued, in an enraged voice, unknowingly gripping his sword with a battle grip, "looking out for your welfare by trying to feed you and give you a bit of water, and you have the NERVE to bloody damn near bite my finger off!!" The Princess was scared now, and he could see it. She started to apologize to him when he heard the others coming through the woods.
William cleared the site of the ambush and rushed the Princess back to their camp, and into Darius' tent as instructed. There he tied her wrists together loosely, and her ankles as well. William was to wait here for the others to come back, if they were not back by dusk, he was to take the Princess to a special hideout near a river. Only himself and Darius had ever been to this place, the others only knew it by a map, and some did not even know of this place at all. William guessed he had been waiting for a couple hours. Not unusual, as Darius and the others would have to dispose of the dead bodies and clean the mess up, as to not alert any scouts who might come looking for the Princess.
William took some bread out of Darius' rucksack. He was very hungry, and he was sure Darius would not mind his little snack.
Not long after he had begun snacking, the Princess began to wake from her involuntary nap. At first she struggled against the ropes around her ankles and wrists, then realized it was to no avail, and ceased.
"Who are you?" She asked William
"I am one of a few who controls your destiny, m'lady." He said, making a motion to his sword.
"Relax, and you shall not be harmed. Resist, and your stay will not be pleasurable."
William motioned toward the bread and water:
"Would you care for some food, water?"
"Yes, I certainly would." She said.
William tore off a small piece of bread and inserted it into her mouth, she bit his finger savagely.
"AYE!!!! Damnit! You noble folk always bite the hand that feeds you." He screamed at her. He thought he heard her giggle at that.
"Here I am," he continued, in an enraged voice, unknowingly gripping his sword with a battle grip, "looking out for your welfare by trying to feed you and give you a bit of water, and you have the NERVE to bloody damn near bite my finger off!!" The Princess was scared now, and he could see it. She started to apologize to him when he heard the others coming through the woods.
queen-mab
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2001
- Posts
- 176
Princess Skye
She had been listening to Simon's voice. The timbre of it...the strangely soothing resonance. Unthinking, she had shut her eyes to bathe in its cadence as she would bathe in a river of strangely warm and perfumed water...an unnatural spring...mellifluous and dark in the heart of a secret wood. Such a stirring voice. Such silken music...so low...so achingly fine...so deep...
So deep?!
Her eyes darted open, and fixed upon his handsome, familiar face. Unformed but insistent thoughts raced through her mind. He had just told her...it had always been understood...
So deep...
And then the acrid stench of onions and unwashed bodies...the clash of steel and the sickening thud of human flesh hitting the forest floor. The crack of bone...the howl of arrows.
The Princess Skye spared one alarmed glance at Simon, and then raised herself to look out of the window of the char.
And then the unknown man was there...the scarred, sweat-streaked face pressed close to hers for only an instant before the calloused hand was shoved into her face, the sponge pressed savagely against her nose and mouth.
All of her instincts were to fight. The sickening aroma of the sponge dulled her wits, but her hands flailed and her nails raked across the face of the man who was attempting to pull her free of the char. She tried to brace herself against the wooden walls...to hold her arms out straight across the narrow windowframe.
Simon's voice was in her ears, no honeyed and seductive song now...his roar was of outrage...his reactions the primal reflexes of a warrior. Dimly, somewhere in her mind, she felt a ripple of surprise, as though Simon were not who she had always thought him to be.
And then the darkness closed over her head like the waters of a deep and suffocating sea.
She knew no more. Her last thought though...and this she would always remember...had been of grateful love.
For Simon.
She had been listening to Simon's voice. The timbre of it...the strangely soothing resonance. Unthinking, she had shut her eyes to bathe in its cadence as she would bathe in a river of strangely warm and perfumed water...an unnatural spring...mellifluous and dark in the heart of a secret wood. Such a stirring voice. Such silken music...so low...so achingly fine...so deep...
So deep?!
Her eyes darted open, and fixed upon his handsome, familiar face. Unformed but insistent thoughts raced through her mind. He had just told her...it had always been understood...
So deep...
And then the acrid stench of onions and unwashed bodies...the clash of steel and the sickening thud of human flesh hitting the forest floor. The crack of bone...the howl of arrows.
The Princess Skye spared one alarmed glance at Simon, and then raised herself to look out of the window of the char.
And then the unknown man was there...the scarred, sweat-streaked face pressed close to hers for only an instant before the calloused hand was shoved into her face, the sponge pressed savagely against her nose and mouth.
All of her instincts were to fight. The sickening aroma of the sponge dulled her wits, but her hands flailed and her nails raked across the face of the man who was attempting to pull her free of the char. She tried to brace herself against the wooden walls...to hold her arms out straight across the narrow windowframe.
Simon's voice was in her ears, no honeyed and seductive song now...his roar was of outrage...his reactions the primal reflexes of a warrior. Dimly, somewhere in her mind, she felt a ripple of surprise, as though Simon were not who she had always thought him to be.
And then the darkness closed over her head like the waters of a deep and suffocating sea.
She knew no more. Her last thought though...and this she would always remember...had been of grateful love.
For Simon.
