One Little Promise [closed]

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Ayla
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One Little Promise [closed]

Post by Ayla »

(( If you're involved, and you know who you are, you're welcome to post any particular response to the general situation here. ))

- - - - -

She stood braced against the battlements of the tower, her eyes closed as she remained faced north. A cool, sharp breeze that hinted to the coming winter months whipped around her, dragging back copper brown hair from the thin face and the blood red cloak from her silhouetted frame. Midnight was a good guess of the time, by the light of the moon directly overhead. Unsurprising, she had slipped into a restless habit of wandering during all hours of the night, having been stirred from her sleep by dreams and fears.

A low sigh escaped her thinly-pursed lips as Kaelyn opened brown eyes to stare off over the sparcely-covered stretch between her post upon the northern tower and the bridge that spanned the river back in the distance. What could only be pent-up frustration burned behind the look in her eyes as she gazed over the land, her shoulders rolled up tensely. This land, she despised at the moment. Shaking her head in equal irritation, she suddenly dropped her eyes down to the battlement with a bitter glare. Her lips parted, soft words escaping them in a tone laced with uncertain anguish. "Just like that..."

Sneering darkly to herself, she drew her teeth down upon her bottom lip, biting it roughly to restrain a frustrated shout that would only draw attention to where she so casually hid away. No, there's no way that it would be over just like that, she caught herself thinking. He's comparing me to... Her. Shaking her head abruptly to block out the other thoughts threatening to overcome her, Kaelyn spun on the balls of her feet and began silently lurking along the edge of the low wall, her fingernails scraping against each block of stone she passed.

Back and forth her bare feet tread, tracing a pattern along the rough floor of the tower before she caught herself in an abrupt stop. Facing east now, she stared to the smaller river that wound past the house in the mountains through a crevice in the rock walls. Her chin lifted as a dark shadow passed over her face. Lifting a hand, Kaelyn roughly placed its palm against the new, rough tribal mark that ran just above her left breast. She could feel her quickened breath, her heart racing beneath the hot palm and deep black ink. A lifeless chuckle slipped past her full lips then as she spoke aloud to the sky and air around her. "How I forgave him so easily..." It was her fault though, she mused shortly. Suddenly allowing a near feral growl to rip from her throat, she stepped forward against the wall and at last let free the sharp yell, listening to its echo. "What are you waiting for, little bitch of a damsel? For him to grow bored of me again? Fine..." The words passed her lips in a biting hiss, contradicting to the yell prior. She could feel hateful, burning tears against her eyes as she blinked them away. Giving a too-gentle laugh, she straightened again, lulling her head aside.

So much as lay a hand on him again..., she thought hesitantly before finishing off the musing aloud. "... It'll be the death of you. This much, I promise." Dropping her chin to glance down once more, Kaelyn passively drew a tiny black-hilted dagger from the leather strap bound securely against her wrist. Letting a finger toy along the flat of the cold steel, she twitched her hand and grimaced as the edge bit lightly into her palm. Staring to the beads of deep crimson blood that slid from the shallow cut, she let another sweet smile cross her lips. The dagger vanished back to its strap as Kaelyn curled the hand closed tightly, letting the crimson blood fall against the stone wall she stood over. "This, I make an oath to. May my blood boil otherwise." Flinging her hand aside suddenly, her head fell back as a sudden look of absolute pleasure raced over her face.

Inhaling deeply, Kaelyn lingered in the exhilarated stance for a moment longer before her next words came in a near breathed whisper. "I must thank you, Lady Ashayen. You've brought me back... Tenfold and more, love. May you enjoy the sweet consequences of your choice."
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Gregory Hardcast
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Post by Gregory Hardcast »

The hammer slammed down onto the lump of hot iron, over and over, again and again, sending tiny sparks of debris onto the man's bare chest and face. He had been working at the anvil all day. Every muscle in his back ached so much he felt like they were on fire, and his arms had turned to lifeless sticks, mechanical tools which swung round and round like the sun. He wasnt making anything. He was simply trying not to think, because when greg thought he felt pain. No, not pain.. torture. He was in love with two women, and his heart felt like it would be torn in two whichever path he chose. And he had chosen his path, and his heart had been torn, the image of ashayen's look of disgust at his words sunk deep into his mind.

So he hammered away at the lump of iron all day, his mind not processing his actions, simply concentrating on the swinging motion of the hammer.
CRACK.

The head of the hammer snapped off, spinning away from the anvil and clattering onto the stone floor. Another clatter sounded as the broken tool dropped from his sweaty, red raw hand, before the smith's tired legs took a step backwards and he sat slumped against the workshop wall, his right hand moving feverishly over the tortured muscles in his back and neck, his eyes closing shut. His mind began to think.

In his mind's eye he saw ashayen, wine bottle in hand sneering at him from across the table, her beautiful eyes shining with pain and contempt. Then the words of her brother filtered through.
'You want to help her? Hang yourself.'

The albarian opened his eyes, and wiped a blackened forearm across his face, wiping away sweat from his stinging eyes and breathing in sharply.

'I've made my choice. I will feel pain one way or the other, but i wont go back on my choice a second time.' The words sounded hollow in the small workshop, and he suddenly felt scared. He didnt even know whether he believed himself anymore.
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Post by Ashayen »

The sky was dark blue with the moon so bright and round, standing high in the center of the midnight sky in a dominant position. Not a single cloud was breaking the bright light in this autumn-like night as the perfect moon shone down on the mountain spur where this lost figure sat in the middle of a drawn pentagram. The bare arms wrapped around the knees which were drawn up and pressed against her chest, her small dainty and nearly white fingers clenched firmly around the neck of a bottle of wine, holding it in an almost deperately grip as the pale blue eyes stared lifelessly at the altar right in front of her. A bittersweet smell was lingering in the air, created by different herbs which were piled up in several small bowls around the altar and herself, once the herbs were burning in their bowls as she tried to gather her strength back with the help of a special ritual but now the mere smoke of the unused tools were crawling up into the sky as she failed. Ashayen couldn't concentrate, her mind always dived back to Gregory with the cause that her scarred heart convulsed in pain.
She sighed softly and grimaced as she swallowed the cold red liquid down her throat, the taste already made her sick in her belly and even though she promised to stop hiding behind the bottle, she sat now there doing the completely opposite.
Her wine-stained lips parted as a bitter chuckle blew past her lips, a gleam of bitter agony flashed her eyes as she muttered
"Hahaha, look...i'm already in the grip of Cherga's hands and i do not even care...what for!? My life is already ended with or without him."

She could have made Gregory her own with a simple spell, giving him the strength and clear mind to let him make his decision as he sent her the dove, affirming that he loves her but now since she knew that he even loves two women, she couldn't help but to feel absolutely disappointment...no, it was supreme contempt what she felt. He knew that her husband fooled her once in the exactly same way and now he dares to bring doom over her 'again'?
Ashayen shook her head and lowered her eyes from the altar, snorting quietly before she began to blink heavily, feeling how the hot tears of bitter agony tried to find their way running down her cheeks. She was splitted into two, feeling nothing more than wrath that he dragged her into problems which she probably had to pay with her life and that he was unable to decide what he actually wants, and that was definitely not having two women but on the other hand she felt just miserable that the sweet sin she had tasted slipped away from her more and more, everything just because of that woman. She couldn't think straight anymore, though some days ago she was sure that she decided right, blocking every word he was telling her but now she started to struggle with herself again.

She murmured as she straightened her legs and slumped backwards to lay on the rough and hard ground, her fingers not loosening the tight grip around the neck of the bottle as her dull eyes stared skywards, lips moving as she spoke a torn whisper under a deep sigh.
"Uuh, that all makes me dizzy like the wine but it's time to make a decision and you're not worth the trouble Gregory, aren't you?"
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

"So, Kaelyn. I've been hearing all kinds of things.."

She ignored the mild irritation that seemed to burn beneath her skin at the very sight of the overly-proper, groomed man that sat before her, wine in hand. The likes of this noble and others similar to him were always a source of utmost annoyance. So predictable, so bland to her. A smirk caught her lips, tugging them up wryly.

"I'm sure you have, seems my name enjoys getting dragged about."

Indifference. Of course he didn't give a damn about her response.

"Yes, sadly not everything has been.. pleasing for my ears."

This conversation with the man was quickly getting boring. Leaning back casually, she returned the banter until her momentary companion at last got to the point. His words that slid so smoothly over her sent a hot fire burning in her belly. Rage, without a doubt, though her amused features did not betray it for now.

"I know the source of this conflict between you two, and rest assured that anything you do to her, I shall have done tenfold on you.. and on Mister Hardcast. This, as you watch him go to hell in the most slow and excruciating manner I can come up with, you will be following him immediately afterwards."

Oh, how he dared to challenge her to this little game she controlled. Leaning her head aside slowly, she took his attempt at threats fully as the heat continued to run up her spine wave after wave. At that point, she leaned forward slowly to speak.

"You ask to start a petty war of cat and mouse with a person you not only underestimate, but know nothing about. If you wish to keep your delicate damsel safe, you had best protect her... With your life and more. Your words of torture and demise -do- not frighten me. I know how you noblemen play your games already."

She had no intent to harm the "damsel" in mind, for now. Lest she do something a bit unpleasing of course. Casually, the conversation continued with a bitter undertone of distaste. Already, a hatred had begun to burst between her and the slick nobleman that dared seek her company for such words. He believed he set the rules to this game, too. Very well, rules always were fun to break. Grinning crudely as the man at last left her to herself in the crumbled tavern, she left him with a kind word.

"Farewell, Mister Cromwell. Hope to see you around."

- - - - - - -

She watched silently as he pulled a piece of parchment forward and began scrawling across it. Her body still trembled mildly as she sat curled upon the grass. A low voice was all she could seem to manage, questioning the antics of the man at her side.

"What... Are you doing now...?"

"Fulfilling a promise."

A promise to me or her , she could not help thinking half-bitterly. Giving a low grumble deep in her throat, she rolled up onto her knees as her eyes slid over Gregory.

"And what promise is that..?"

"The promise to marry you. I sent a letter to Father Thyme."

- - - - - - -

Perhaps I should just let it go now.

Once more she found herself leaning against the low battlement of the northern tower, staring off to the thin river that coursed around the walls of Troll's Bane. Her head was held low as the cool winds swept around, tugging at a few coppery locks that fell over her bare shoulders. A tremble raced along her spine, visibly shaking her torso for a moment as her eyes drifted up through the mild fog. Anger did not crease the thin, bronzed face this time. Instead, it was a thoughtful look that governed the woman's face as she stared past the house in the distance. Her hands clasped about the edge of the stone block she leaned on, fingernails scraping lightly over the rough surface.

Why risk it..? His life for my sadistic pleasure of seeing her defeated fully.

Grimacing openly, the woman pressed herself from the stone and turned about, wandering aimlessly about the top of the tower. Never would she admit to how that nobleman's words had in fact gotten to her. But then, that may have very well been the singlemost thing that kept her from the vengeful thoughts that would fill her mind the nights she was not in her blueblood's arms. Gregory was one weakness she wasn't about to risk, no matter the reward. Letting a low sigh escape her now parted lips, the woman gazed off to the east once more, the sun peeking out between the rugged rocks of the mountains. A hand snaked up, combing roughly through her nearly-black hair. He still had the wedding in mind, and the words that had been spoken slowly in her ears still rang fresh.

"I love you so damn much, it hurts..."

Drawing her teeth down so roughly upon her bottom lip that she tasted blood, the woman let her hand fall slowly down her side. She knew without a doubt that his words spoke true for her as well. So true that she could feel her heart almost twist in double as her eyes drifted over the distant house. Huffing a silly strand of hair from her eyes, she at last spoke aloud though only the sky itself was around to hear.

"Fine, woman. He asked, for now I obey. Free yourself from this mess rather than turning it around on yourself, Ashayen... I'll only hold back for so long if you remain this budding threat."

Her eyes turned up to the sky at that point, almost as if she felt she were being watched. A low, rugged laugh came from her at that point before her shoulders fell and she turned to the ladder that led down. That was all the satisfaction she could muster for tonight. And the frustration it equally brought upon the desert woman resulted in only one thought as her bare feet hit the stone below.

I need a smoke...
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

Chilled to the bone was a lacking way to describe this sensation. Bitter and vile was a lacking way to describe the taste upon her lips. Numb... No, even numb lacked to fulfill the void that rippled from chest outward. With every dull thud of the woman's heart, she felt another sickening wave of sheer hatred, to herself if no one else, burn through her very veins. No, it was not because she was betrayed, left to wither away in her own despair. Not this time. This time it had been her to betray. To betray herself, her comrades, the very man that had so rigidly possessed her emotionally and more. For what? An hour's time of flesh against flesh, writhing in the darkness to sheer lust.

Filthy hypocrite. The two words rang through Kaelyn's mind on repeat, circling over and over. She could feel the bitterness that coated her mouth growing ever worse as she crouched before the river. Her reflection wavered, showing her blank yet searing eyes. Eyes framed by careless streaks of deep crimson where she had ran her sliced hand over her face and tasted the metallic tinge of blood on lips. Her jaws clenched visibly, contorting the dried blood that stroked down her face. A reckless gleam touched her brown eyes as she stared down to the reflection, ignorant of the cold blast of air that lifted the coppery hair from her neck and face. She looked... Feral. Truly wild. And something deep down in the pit of her strangled heart lit like a burning fire. She liked it.

Closing her eyes at last against the cold wind that forced a tremble from her lightly-clad body, the woman rose to hot tears glistening over her cheeks from eyes she though she had cried out enough. Her body twisted with a newfound smoothness, that of a predator as she let a cold smile touch her lips. Then her head lulled back much as it had two nights before, save the body against hers and the sweat-slicked skin. The smile broke as her lips parted, seeming to revel in the self-anguish that burned through her. Images seemed to flash before her as her arms opened to the biting flurries of snow that the winds brought with them.

Of the night she released the elf from his bonds before the sleeping bodies of guards, of the gasps that broke forward unrestrained as the hour passed. Of her standing before the elfess, begging relentlessly. "It meant nothing!", she had said over and over. And indeed it had. Empty lust, that's all it was.

Of the man sneering to her, shoving her away with the biting words that left her heart in stone. "At least I wasn't after just some cheap sex, you slut." But how those words had burned into her flesh, leaving a mark that would last an eternity. Even as the man broke down and took her into his grasp, they seared, causing a hot fire to run down her throat and through her every curve. No, she would never lay a hand upon the foolish man that spoke them. After all, it had been more than expected. Sins of the flesh and all. But she would not stand idly by and let herself be pushed to the shadows for what she had done. No, Kaelyn could see it as clear as if the subliminal ropes strained just before her bloodied hands. Something, anything... Had to give.

Otherwise, her emotions and mind, like the rope being tugged by two unforgiving forces, would snap. And she knew as well as she knew the bitter taste in her mouth that the result would be Hell's fury. It was a promise she silently made unto herself as she stood before the river, her blank eyes turning toward the west with a deadly glare.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

She had almost been lost, that night.

"Fight for what you love!". The cold words were hissed in an indifferent mutter as she stood before Phoenix, her arms outstretched wide. Her heart brutally pounded against her chest, aching with the frantic thrill she felt ripping through her body. Anxiety, anguish, even a little fear was beginning to settle in the pit of her stomach as she bore herself to the elfess, whose face was twisted in pure rage. Her eyes glittered with barely-contained rage as Phoenix lunged forward, snatching her by the throat and driving her into the ground. It all became a blur at that point, the elfess straddling her body, the trembles that began running up her spine and outward along her body.

She could feel her breath growing all the more reckless as Phoenix knelt over her, cold steel flicking into the elfess' hand and dropping to rest upon Kaelyn's fluttering chest. Her pretty face had already been shoved against a tree, her left cheek bearing cuts and scrapes to prove. The edge of the blade, as it bore a slow and shallow line down between her breasts, was nothing. The woman almost arched into the blade, satisfaction of the raw and bleeding wound glinting in her eyes. She dared to press the elfess, to nudge and bite at the elven pride she bore. A sneer upon her lips preceded the softly hissed words that slipped along her tongue to the elfess."Go on then, elfess... Stain this street with my blood!" That's when the bloodlust sparked in the elven eyes that glared so coldly down to her.

Kaelyn's back arched, her lips breaking into a silent cry as Phoenix bore down, wrenching a dagger through her left shoulder not once, but twice, ripping into the bruised skin. Crimson flashed before the woman's eyes, the bitter smell of salt and rust tinging her nostrils and causing her throat to tighten. Yet she could, no.. would do nothing to stop the elfess. She deserved it, after all. Steal the honey, suffer the sting. Deftly, the words swam before her eyes as black seemed to pop against her peripheral vision. Before she could so much as decently gasp, Kaelyn found her back arching yet again, a blood-curdling scream breaking free of her throat as the elfess plunged a dagger into her right palm, shattering bones in the process. And again, it was repeated as Phoenix carelessly drove a second dagger into the desert woman's left hand, leaving her with her arms lodged to the ground and spread wide.

The elfess had had enough, surely. Or so Kaelyn found herself hoping against hope as she lay spread and pinned by steel to the ground. Her eyes stared unseeingly to the sky, silent sobs wrecking her body as blood pooled around her. She could feel the hot, slick moisture of blood running down her chest and shoulder as her every muscle quivered. The elfess, how kind of her, had bent down slowly, shoving a third dagger along Kaelyn's neck. In its place, the woman was left with a strained neck, bearing a rigidly cut "P" across the curve of her slender throat.

Gods above, the pain seared through her every curve. Kaelyn felt ready to snap at that point, pinned and helpless, delirious even. She couldn't think clearly at this point. But of course, Phoenix was not finished. Barely was she able to draw a scream from Kaelyn as she finished the crucifiction with two blades, one to either thigh. The blood that ran all along the woman's bruised and shattered body left her skin cold as it ran over her. Trembling and jerking uncontrollably, Kaelyn could feel the fluttering of her heart and knew what it meant. No, she would not let it end tonight, not on this note. Her eyes continued to stare blankly forward, lifeless now as the elfess hissed. "Thank you, desert brat. For bringing me back. Enjoy your night.." And then she was gone, leaving Kaelyn in a lifeless, fading state.

It was only moments afterward that Amaria approached, though the desert woman was none the wiser to her presence. She dropped unconscious, barely alive and barely breathing. Her body seemed to be swimming to her, floating even as her heart stuttered against her chest. Then Fayne and others arrived, their voices deaf to Kaelyn. Long moments passed as the sword through one side was dragged out to free the leg it shoved through. And then... Everything went black.

Empty.

Kaelyn's heart stuttered to a stop and her breath stilled as her head lulled aside. Her eyes, lifeless to the world, stared unknowingly upon Fayne as the woman continued fruitlessly working upon Kaelyn. Her hands slammed against Kaelyn's unmoving chest, sending jolts of magic rippling through the listless woman. Long moments passed and again, Fayne shoved hot magic through Kaelyn's every nerve. Unresponsive. Until at last, a fluttering was felt and the desert woman dared to take one empty, shuddering breath. Her heart beat again, barely. It was at that point, after the blades were removed, that Kaelyn was lifted and taken away.

Once tended to in the hospital, the woman was taken upstairs, laid along a fresh bed. Her heart, weak but painstakingly fighting to beat more solidly, continued to flutter against her chest. Her mind, unconcious to the world, swam instead before a strange wake of scenes. They meant nothing to her, shrouded faces that surrounded her in a circle. They spoke in tongues, a gentle chant in a voice that rang both male and female, uncomfortable yet calming all in the same. Then they began to fade away from her vision, leaving her in silent - albeit alive - darkness.

Too bad, desert child. We do not want you just yet.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

The nights were getting so much colder already, especially in the desert where the winds blew unhindered. The sharp smell of oncoming snow burned into her nostrils, sending shivers up her spine and over her arms. The only comfort she had was the thin, blood red cloak that settled about her thin body, hiding the many tattoos and scars, throwing her face into a deep shadow. But she didn't feel the cold anyway. Her body was numb, yet again. A sensation she had grown far too familiar with in the past months, months she couldn't always coherently recall.

Dejection and anguish were growing far too familiar for her as well. Those two emotions battled over the woman's bronzed face, which was twisted down into a vile grimace as she sat before the slow-moving oasis in the desert. Sand settled beneath her and her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms curled around them tightly. She gave the appearance of a woman trying to physically hold herself together. Her eyes were narrowed against the brutal winds that came from the west, rolling over her body and tugging the hood from her head, sending her coppery hair flying behind her. Her body gave to a vicious tremble, but it was not for the cold.

- - - - - -

"Now I'm just curious. What'd they look like?"

That had been the question asked, as her sister Kahli settled before her. The younger woman had mentioned seeing a couple arguing, a lone beggar staring dejectedly at them that she had eventually loaned a few coppers to. Kaelyn found herself curious of course. Wondering just who might have been arguing.

"Let's see.. The woman had dark hair, weird vial around her neck. The man arguing with her, I didn't get a good look at. Beggar was blonde, blue eyes."

Blonde, blue eyes. It was an instant image that scattered itself over Kaelyn's thoughts. Gregory standing aside passively as Ashayen spoke to Edward. Kahli had mentioned how they looked noble, how they smelled of the 'higher-ups'. Kaelyn's suspicion that always blackened her heart, it made it come too easily. Frozen atop the rock she had sat upon, she had stuttered suddenly.

"The beggar.. Blonde, blue eyes.. Was his hair kind of.. Long but sorta rough cut?"

Kaelyn motioned idly around her head, her mind more or less blank. Her heart sank into her stomach as Kahli scoffed and agreed, carelessly mentioning how he was just another jilted fool. Right.. Fool. Gods damned fool. Her fool. It made her sick at the thought.

"I don't... Think that was just.. A beggar you saw.. I think.. He was Albarian."

"I'd bet she turned him down, he looked so downfallen...what..?! I gave an Albarian copper?! Damn!"

Kahli's scathing, shocked reply was expected, but Kaelyn felt numb to the core. Her sister didn't get what she was saying, what was so significant about the whole ordeal. Shaking her head slowly, Kaelyn's words came forward sharply, sending the point home.

" NO, Kal... I think.. It was MY Albarian."

Gregory. Her Albarian. The bastard.


- - - - - -

Kaelyn blinked blearily against the images of her discussion with her sister that had taken place not half an hour earlier. The numbness that had rippled down her body from Kahli's first words still lingered, subduing a burning in the pit of her stomach. She had sat like a statue since Kahli had walked off, curled up with her back to the swaying palm tree as the winds smashed against her. Not a tear had been cried since the words she had spoken before. Closing her eyes slowly, Kaelyn heard the words echo into her thoughts, digging like hot knives into her heart.

- - - - - -

Her breath wouldn't come to her for some reason. It was like someone had an iron grip around her chest, forcing her from breathing as she stood, frozen. Sand scattered around her from where she had just moments ago viciously kicked it into the air.

"Kae.. CUT him from your life before he hurts you more!"

Cut him from her life. After all she had done, sacrificed. He had left his mark, not just physically but emotionally as well. Could she just cut him away, heal the wounds and move on? She doubted that. No, the bastard Albarian had laid claim for too long. And Kaelyn knew it too well.

"I can't..."

She couldn't. She couldn't merely cut him off and go on with her life. She was too weak. . . Too weak. No. Abruptly, Kaelyn shook that idea from her head and bitterness flooded her mouth, her throat. Her body. Gods be damned if she were too weak. Something had to give. Kahli echoed her thoughts.

"I know... Still, Kaelyn. Something has to give, painful or not."

Something has to give. Again, Kaelyn saw it before her. The metaphorical ropes, stretched taut by two forces pulling either which way. But this time, they were beginning to fray. Small fibers were snapping, wearing away. Something was giving. Fine.

"If... If he does not explain himself. If this happens again. Fine. Strings.. Will be cut.


- - - - - -

Strings would be cut. Kaelyn had at that moment promised herself. She could still see the frayed ropes before her, an echoed and repeated image in her mind as it flashed from scene to scene in remembrance. Curling in on herself slowly, Kaelyn twisted one hand over the opposing wrist as she trembled viciously again. Her head fell gradually, resting it against her knees at last as the winds continued. How fitting, that flurries of snow would find her so completely numb and frozen. It was too fitting, too right. It made her laugh. And the sound that slipped by Kaelyn's numb and chapped lips was strangled. The laugh of a person being torn in two, a person in pain.

Breathing in deeply, Kaelyn found another image flooding her too active mind. She swayed slowly, the laugh cutting off bitterly as the voice of the man echoed almost audibly around her. Then her shoulders hitched up, pulling her into something almost like a fetal position. She was losing control, damn it. And she had realized long before Kahli had ever mentioned what she had seen.

- - - - - -

She watched silently as Drathe slumped to the ground in a crouch, his broad hands fumbling about the blades of dry, dead grass. He tore one blade up between both hands, tugging and messing with the fragile piece of foliage as he spoke up.

"Ay, I've got two questions for you... Then I think I'm going to take my leave and get some sleep."

Two questions. Harmless enough, right? Shifting her weight, Kaelyn idly folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head curiously as she allowed him with a casual "Very well." Her eyes drifted along Drathe, studying his forever-masked face with frustrated curiosity as he chose the first question to ask. As he spoke, his eyes never left the tormented blade of grass between his fingers.

"Does Phoenix want to kill you...?"

This caught her off guard. Was her crucified torturing just a prerequisite to the wanted final results? Or had Phoenix had her fill of bloodlust with Kaelyn's near death? She didn't know what the elfess had planned, and she voiced as much, her eyes drifting to Drathe's hands as she spoke slowly.

"I.. Don't know. Perhaps... Or perhaps she had her taste of revenge."

Drathe had managed to tear the piece of grass in his possession at that point. She had watched as his hands, seemingly almost nervous to her, ripped the blade in half as he tugged from either direction. It had torn all too easily, already half dead from the cold of the coming winter. His voice was soft as he moved into the second question.

"...I don't want you to leave this place. Are you really going to marry that guy... What's his name... Gregory?"

Again, Kaelyn found herself knocked off-centered by the question he asked. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Drathe held the two pieces of the single blade he had torn before him, apparently studying them from what she could tell. It vaguely reminded her of something she had mused over not long ago, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But her mind centered on his question. Was she really going to marry Gregory? What with the strains between them of late... Kaelyn gave a quiet inward sigh as she regrettably spoke up.

"I don't... Know that either, to be honest. I don't... At this moment.. Know where the two of us stand.. I've done some nasty damage to the man. Unintentionally, but nonetheless.. He's been.. Y'know.. Distant and such."

Kaelyn hurriedly waved off the question, a constriction in her chest as she spoke to the man of it. Then another thought broke through her frantic regret of her chosen words. Why did he care? Blinking away her momentary confusion, Kaelyn abruptly dropped her hand and curled her arms about her. Drathe was grinning when she looked back to him, that same boyish smile that always warned her of trouble. Something he could never escape for long. Furrowing her brows, she chose to turn the question around on him.

"Why the sudden curiosity of my possible betrothal?"

That boyish grin, despite how much Kaelyn knew the secrets behind it, never failed to make her smile as well. Asking the question lightly, the woman leaned her head aside as he took the time to reply. She watched silently, thoughtfully as his eyes drifted first toward the river near them, then back to her. The pieces of grass he had pulled up were rolled into tiny balls as he flashed another grin and flicked them at her.

"Ain't that what friends are for? Asking things they probably shouldn't. Besides, if you do... I hope it's the right choice. Hope it makes you happy. Night, Trouble."


- - - - - -

The right choice. For the agony that ran through Kaelyn's veins at this very moment, she highly doubted that it was the right choice. But she still felt obliged, if anything, to approach Gregory. To have him explain. Perhaps Kahli's description just matched another man with blonde hair and blue eyes that would be begging a black-haired woman. Perhaps she was merely jumping to conclusions. Perhaps.

Or perhaps she was just being desperate to touch on an explanation apart from the obvious. Groaning, Kaelyn lifted her head away from her now trembling knees and stared off toward the desert's oasis. She could see the moonlight reflecting off the various scorpions that skittered through the sand on the far side, briefly amusing herself with the idea of laying amongst them. How nice it would be to let their venom run through her and at last just get the torture over with. Kahli would hate her for all eternity...

Sighing gently to herself, Kaelyn shoved herself up tenderly from the ground. A choked, pained sound escaped her lips as she rose up through the wind that was now carrying brief flurries over the sand. Drathe's words had left more of an impact than they had when he had said them. To be happy was the whole point of this. She was not happy. Gregory, so it seemed, was not happy. Bitter bile touched Kaelyn's lips as she turned away toward the town of Varshikar, moving forward slowly through the cold. Perhaps it was time to just let the ropes snap, like the blade of grass had between the man's hands...
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »


"I'm sorry... I just don't feel anything anymore."

She had seen that very conclusion from the moment her lips broke away from his in the too-soft, too-careful kiss. She had seen it in his dull eyes, in the blank expression of his face. And simultaneously, they had both realized the only choice they had left anymore. But as the blonde-haired Albarian breathed the very words that threatened to completely unwind the last threads of her fragile hold on sanity, she knew that nothing could be done to stop it. There it was again. The numbness of a broken heart.

She could feel the thickness in her throat and the burning of tears brimming against her eyes. But Kaelyn fought them. She would not cry for this man again, so she silently promised herself as she stood before him. She would not cry for him again. Her voice wavered nonetheless, and she did not dare look up at him.

"Very well... Then. Consider this it..."

Kaelyn would never see the tears that found the man's cheeks at that point, as she refused to look at him. It was the one relief she found as she frantically tried to hold herself together, keeping the tears at bay. She couldn't look at him just yet, even as his voice met her ears almost frantically, casting more verbal daggers to her heart that ripped her bit by bit.

"I can stay with you anyway. I don't care about myself.. I don't want you unhappy."

Let him stay with her anyway, after all of this. After he admitted that he felt nothing? Kaelyn found herself tempted to take this offer, to cling to his side and never let go. Had she been any other woman, perhaps that's what she would have done. Perhaps she would have lived life at his side, a false smile on her lips, having to see the deadened indifference on his face day by day. The very thought made Kaelyn's already tattered heart writhe and twist in on itself. To hold a person down like that was torture.

Taking a shuddering breath, feeling the air burn down her throat, Kaelyn silently steeled herself. Her body trembled subtly before she turned her eyes up to Gregory's face. She stared to his expression, not completely understanding what she saw in his face for once. Her heart raced, thudding in her ears and making every inch of herself ache in a way that was hardly pleasant. Yet her face settled into a calm mask, albeit a fragile one, her voice the same as she muttered up to him.

"I will not hold you back. I will not keep you tied down. No matter what it does to me..."

Even if it were to tear me apart bit by bit in this excrutiating pain, her mind dully echoed. Kaelyn could feel the numbness overtaking her now, causing her hands to tremble slightly. She could hardly focus on Gregory's words, already having half a mind to ignore him and give to the strange sensation rippling down her body. She heard him speak of loving her, then of his plans to leave the island. Yes, that was it. She would leave. She would run until her lungs gave out, wherever it was that her legs would take her. As long as it was far, far away from Gobaith, from Albar. From him. Her voice broke forward blatantly then, speaking without her full knowledge of doing so.

"I don't guarantee you ever seeing me again, Gregory..."

- - - - - -

Kaelyn stepped forward silently through the slush of partially-melted snow, ignorant to the crunch of twigs and dead leaves beneath her thin boots. Her every step was one made thoughtlessly, no care given to staying quiet or being graceful as she uncharacteristically stumbled about the trees. She couldn't be far from the harbor now, right? Just a few more steps, she could already smell the salt of the ocean.

Her face was still just as blank and lifeless as it had been when Gregory had turned and moved off. Just as stoic and indifferent as she had slammed her hand into Kahli's throat only to jump the table as her only means of escape. She wasn't thinking, she wasn't really even seeing. Muscle memory, she idly supposed, was all that drew her through the trees and toward the few salt-stained buildings before the docks. As her boots touched down on the firm planks of the docks, Kaelyn came to a stop. Her eyes roamed over the various trade boats swaying with the ocean current, listening for a long moment to the thud of wood against wood, the creak of slick ropes. Most of the boats were tied up for the night, save one at the end. She could hear the echo of voices and the splash of ropes being dragged up. Their accents had to be Gynkese. Perfect.

Stepping slowly down the docks to the boat at the end, Kaelyn turned her indifferent eyes to the crew. One of the men stopped as he noticed her blatant stare, a broad grin cutting across his too-full lips. In an instant, he had slid down the ropes with a light "thunk" onto the dock right before her. Kaelyn blinked once before her chin fell and she reached to the purse of coins at one hip.

"How c'n I help ya, lass?"

Such a typical drawl to his voice, it almost sounded faked. Shifting through the purse, her slender hand dragged out a fistful of silvers as she spoke flatly.

"Take me as far as you're going, wherever you're going. I'll pay whatever's needed."

The man blinked once before a greedy hand darted out to take the coins. However, he seemed to hesitate, playing the silver coins over in his broad grasp as he spoke.

" Headed out ta Gynk. Sure ya can h-..."

He stopped dead in his sentence then as Kaelyn rolled her eyes slowly up his chest then to his face. Her lifeless eyes had transformed, holding a blatant, dangerous glower in them. The man flashed her a grin, his eyes flicking to the various tattoos over her face as if just noticing them. He gave a nervous chuckle before pocketting the coins and turning to the rope ladder with a shrug.

"What'm I sayin'..? Welc'me aboard, lassy."

Kaelyn silently followed him up the rope, carelessly swinging herself over onto the deck of the boat. She listened idly as he rambled about how the last "berth in the cabin" could be hers. Tracing the man's steps down below the deck and to the room he mentioned, the woman only idly nodded her head as she entered and shut the door behind her. She made her way over to the small bed, sitting down on it with one leg folded beneath her. The light deerskin bag she had carried with her was slung forward into her lap at this point, her hands tugging it open.

The lulling rock of the boat from side to side made Kaelyn cringe as she rummaged through the bag, pulling a few various things out. Three days of sickness were ahead of her, she could feel it already. Damn i-... The thought was stalled before it could be completed, the woman blinking down slowly as her fingers snaked through a tiny chain. Furrowing her brows, Kaelyn tugged on the tentatively-crafted chain to reveal steel shaped in the claw of a panther or bear perhaps. Above the flat, broad end of the claw rested a large, bold ruby which the thin chain looped through at the very top. Only then did she manage the faintest of smiles.

How could she have forgotten?

Sidling over to the small desk in the room, Kaelyn rummaged around until quill, parchment and ink were discovered. Sitting down before the desk with a deep sigh, the woman settled the necklace to the side as she began scratching over the parchment, writing away before securing the necklace in the parchment and sealing it off.

Dear Drathe,

Forgive me a thousand times over for not coming around on your
birthday, after what I promised. Here's the gift I intended to send y....
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

[ Yes, slight time-skipping here. I got impatient. And be warned that the second scene starts out rather 'suggestive'. ^_^ Enjoy ]

- - - - - -

Over a week had passed already. Nine days ago, the ship she had boarded that horrid night had docked on the shores of Gynk, after having navigated the islands that scattered out through the ocean. And every night since then had been the same for Kaelyn. She had let herself slip into a mundane cycle. Wake up in the lonely room of the inn she stayed at, roam the likes of the Gynkese city throughout the day, come back to the nearby tavern at night. Her eyes did not linger on the men that made passes at her, they did not linger on the women with their scathing remarks of the 'desert trash' wandering about. The words they said did not go unnoticed, though Kaelyn found herself amused at their tantrums. It was funny, how the women of this place were so quick to judge when everyone knew even the Gynk nobility were scum in the eyes of the rest of the mainland.

The sun had set a good hour back when Kaelyn finally wound her way down the muggy road to the tavern she had frequented through the past days. As the door swung open, with its usual gust of stale sibanac and alcohol forcing its way to her nostrils, Kaelyn stepped in to the usual cheer of drunken men. They were all the same, every one of them. Crude, vile, some of them violent. They proved this as this hand or that snatched out to pinch the woman from behind or grasp her arm, trying to get some sort of reaction from her. But Kaelyn was ignorant, if anything. She gave no harsh reaction as she once would have to the hands that reached to her, merely escaping the grasps and moving away. Her face was smooth, statuesque in its emotionlessly blank appearance. She didn't care for the men. She had no interest. At all.

Sliding down into the chair settled to the back of the tavern, Kaelyn turned her back to the wall. Her eyes drifted up indifferently to the crowd in the tavern, watching them as they interacted. The barmaid, as she wound through the men with order after order, merely flashed a look to the tattooed woman in the corner. She had long given up asking Kaelyn if she wanted anything. The desert woman never replied, never spoke. Nine endless days of her appearance and not once had Kaelyn spoken a word to the group. And this unusual display seemed to draw more attention to her than she was really hoping for. Night after night, one senseless drunk or another would approach, attempting to 'make conversation'. Night after night, they failed. And for all Kaelyn knew, that's how it would remain until she got bored of the place.

She would have never expected the reaction that raced through her this night. The sound of a horse's hooves on the old cobblestoned path outside the tavern was barely audible to Kaelyn amongst the rumble of chatter in the building. But she heard it nonetheless, something different from the usual. Her eyes lifted slowly from beneath the blood red hood settled over her face, turning to the door expectantly. Not half a minute had passed before a tall, well-dressed and composed man ducked through the tavern's door and entered. He received the same crude greeting as Kaelyn did, save the catcalls and pinching. But the voices of the men wavered, as if in awe that they had been blessed with the presence of this noble figure. Kaelyn's head tilted ever so slightly as she watched the man step forward in his stoic manner, his back turned to her as he took a seat on one of the stools near the bar. She stared to the back of the man's head, idly taking note of his jet black hair that fell just past his collar. A good five minutes may have passed before the man shifted, gazing over his shoulder to meet her stare. He would look away, then back again, as if checking to see if her gaze ever wavered. And it didn't.

Something about the man touched her memory, as if he were in some form or fashion familiar to her. It was irritating, how she could not lay a finger on who he reminded her of, or why he did so. A hand came up slowly to drag the hood of her cloak away, letting her fingers play along her coppery hair as she watched the man look away again, muttering to the barmaid. Then both pairs of eyes flashed over the man's shoulder to Kaelyn, and she felt a slow grin slip past her lips. It was at that moment, her eyes catching the curiosity burning in the nobleman's gaze, that his face wavered in her mind. Abruptly, she caught the imagination of a blonde-haired nobleman sitting before her, casually arrogant with a smirk on his lips. Albarian. Perhaps that's what he would have looked like if ever he had obliged to her many teasings of dying his hair black. Kaelyn couldn't help the silent scoff as her eyes lingered on the black-haired nobleman that stared at her with that same burning curiosity. For being such supposedly intelligent people, they never knew who to stay away from, did they?

Kaelyn's chin lifted subtly as the man finally seemed to find the nerve to rise to his feet. He arrogantly brushed a broad hand down the too-nice tunic, one of countless things that made him stand out amongst the rubble of men here. She leaned back casually into the old chair she sat in, her eyes flickering with a disinterested expression as he strode forward and placed a gloved hand along the back of the chair opposite her, flashing her a grin that would have charmed any other woman. Then he spoke, his voice smooth and rich in a way that made her cringe.

"Greetings, m'lady. Would you mind a bit of company in this dank place?"

He was trying to talk her over, now wasn't he? How disgustingly cute. Kaelyn found herself musing over his question for a long moment even as a single hand flicked up to motion to the chair he leaned against, inviting him to the seat. She was not sure she was in the mind to deal with a womanizing nobleman tonight, especially one that looked so sickeningly familiar that it hurt. But then again, she recalled how she spent every night alone in the inn. Curled against the small bed that smelled of salt and dust, barely holding herself together. She never cried, no, but she had felt the torture of the nonexistant tears over and over, until she dropped into a numb unconsciousness. As her eyes distractedly drifted to the man's face, hearing his words but never really listening, Kaelyn felt a sudden brutal urge run through her, her mind snapping to the idea. She didn't want to be alone again tonight. And the way this man looked at her, as if she were a child's new toy, alerted her to the perfect opportunity of abusing her freedom a bit.

- - - - - -

Not two hours later, she found herself tucked away into the inn's room she had rented once more. The black-haired nobleman had taken every bit of bait she threw to him, ignorant to the envious stares of the drunkards about as Kaelyn finally spoke. He was beyond mere excitement by the time she casually led him out of the tavern through the back door and guided him down the tiny path to the inn's doors. His hands had roamed over her constantly as she stepped before him, tugging the door of the inn room open and stepping into the darkness. And she had not even found herself the chance for a moment's silence before her back was pressed into the bed and a shadow fell over her, shifting her to his command.

Kaelyn was careless in her actions as she twisted and moved in the darkness, ignorant to the sound of cloth material rustling as it was dropped to the floor below. Her mind was elsewhere as hot palms pressed against her sides and pulled her up from the bed. It was numbing, this entire experience, rather than pleasurable as it should have been. She didn't have the heart for this man's desires. And she had realized all too late. Too late, for the black-haired nobleman was determined to finish off what she had started. As Kaelyn pressed a hand to the man's bare chest in an attempt to pull away, his hands clamped down against her hips with bruising force. She tried again, twisting against his hold. No luck. Her indifferent mood changed with a snap then, anger scorching through her body.

The woman settled back at that point, a thin smirk on her lips as she silently obliged to the stranger's demands. Her eyes clouded over in a strange daze, one hand fumbling over the leather straps at her wrists that neither of them had thought to remove. That's when she felt the cold metal between the straps, a tiny but sharp dagger she had forgotten was there. Her fingers played idly with the metal and leather for but a few seconds, only to have the blade drop down into her grasp. Her body still rocked slowly, though her mind was long lost to the man's doings. She inhaled at this point and leaned over the man, her back arching against his hold. She ignored his ragged breathing as she drew down, her lips hovering above his as they pulled up into a dangerous smile. Then her hand snapped forward and across the man's throat before he even realized the threat. He didn't have the time to utter so much as a strangled gasp, his head lulling back and his body suddenly writhing in agony. Kaelyn's small hand that was free of the dagger came forward, sliding sensuously over the man's mouth, holding him in place as crimson blood ran along his skin. She stilled atop the man, watching him silently as his skin gradually grew more and more pale. At last, the man dropped still, his eyes rolled up and his form lifeless. Kaelyn exhaled slowly as she removed her hand from his mouth and bent down, pressing her lips against the blood that coated his neck. Then she rocked forward, placing a second kiss upon the man's forehead, leaving an imprinted mark of her lips in his own blood. Without a word, she rocked back and swung one leg to the side, rising from the lifeless body.

It did not take the woman long to slide back into her thin clothes, throwing her bloodred cloak about her shoulders. In silence, she slid out of the room and down the inn's corridor, casually walking back into the night. Her steps led her around to the front of the tavern, where her eyes caught sight of the now dead nobleman's horse. He was a massive blood bay stallion, a horse of the desert from his lithe frame and dished head. And he stood by calmly, clad in black leather as he shook his head slightly, the pitch black mane flinging up in the motion. Kaelyn stood silently, staring to the creature for a long moment, her eyes on the stallion's head. There was a deception in his dark eyes, a feral edge to the calm exterior. He was gorgeous. Striding forward quickly, Kaelyn snatched a hand out to jerk the leather reins free from the post he was tied to. The horse skittered back a few steps, a loud snort coming from him at her brash actions. The woman ignored the horse's antics, however, swinging herself around to his side. Her hands snatched to either end of the black leather saddle, kicking herself up onto the horse as he lurched aside, swinging his hindquarters beneath her. Pulling the leather reins to the right, Kaelyn guided the stallion to the direction of the road before she leaned forward, her heels suddenly digging into the blood bay's flanks. As the stallion lurched forward in a surge of power, throwing himself into a gallop, Kaelyn leaned over his withers and curled her hands into his black mane as it whipped into her face.

The stallion's long strides took the woman through the streets of the Gynk city with impeccable ease as she let herself drift to either side each time the horse turned this corner or that. Her bootless heels continued digging into the stallion's flanks, asking for more speed over and over as her bloodred cloak billowed out behind her. Her hood was knocked back from the wind that whipped around her from the stallion's racing gallop, sending her coppery hair back in a maddened tug. Her eyes turned up to stare over the stallion's head, watching the road break open to uninhabited swamplands. Then with a checking look to the empty sky above, a thin smile touched the woman's lips. They were headed north, as fast as the beast could take her.

And as she rode on, she could still taste the metallic flavor of blood against her lips. The emotion it left behind was thrilling, far more than it ever should have been.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

The morning after the streets had rang with the racing sound of a horse's hooves, each reverbrated and hollow sound taking the red-cloaked desert woman further and further from the scene of her heinous crime, started out silent. Nothing stirred the quiet town during the early hours apart from the dull drip of slushy water here and there. No one would have been aware of the crime that lay wasting away in one of the back rooms of the inn south of town. Until a frightened scream broke forward from the lips of a young maid, who crashed against the room's door in a frenzied panic. Others within the inn quickly gathered around the young woman, hand catching her as she fell to her knees on the floor. As she stuttered out the sight of the lifeless body splayed out over the bed, which was dyed crimson, two men stepped forward through the frantic group that had gathered. They exchanged glances before the older man silently stepped to the room, whose door had been slammed open against the wall. He moved through the dark room, his eyes roaming over the frozen expression of the dead nobleman, the look in them bearing a cold glint.

As the man stepped back out of the room, closing the door behind him out of sheer courtesy to the group gathered in the corridor, he moved silently toward the second man that had earlier accompanied him. Tugging his gloves off slowly, he dropped his voice low to murmur blandly.

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about Lord Alerend shirking his duties anymore. Finally found himself a snake. The bastard's dead, bled out."

The younger man grimaced as his eyes drifted aside to the group of inn-goers, watching as they gathered about the terrorized maid girl and attempted to soothe her panicked mind. He lifted a hand, tugging at the braid in his beard before stepping forward, clearing his throat soundly. Lifting his dark brows, he waited tolerantly until the crowd came around, numerous eyes turning to him. Shifting his weight to the side, he lifted his chin and spoke clearly, a demand in his voice.

"I need to know if any of you had seen who could have done this to Lord Alerend. Maybe you saw him come in with a companion?"

The ten or so people murmured amongst themselves for a long moment, confusion and fear flicking over face after face. The young, poised man waited silently for them to decide whatever they may, only to give a wry smile as the head of the inn stepped forward. She was a grey-haired woman, a mean look in her eyes despite the simpering smile on her lips. As she spoke thickly, her hands waved here and there anxiously.

"Th' Lord, sire.. I seen him come in late last night from th' tavern. Clingin' all over that desert bitch tha's been plaguin' the city for over a week now. Sh' had.. Weird tattooes on her face, now. Big crescent on her.. Her righ' cheek, b'lieve."

The young man stared down imperiously to the grey-haired woman, nodding once as he listened to her unintelligent speech. At the description, a brow arched on his face. He hesitated openly before lifting his gloved hand in a dismissive wave. Turning back to the older man, who had listened just as attentively to the inn-woman's words, his thin smile fell abruptly. They both had heard the rumors of a particular escapee from the Albarian prisons up north. And from the description that the old woman had just given, said escapee was on the move again.

- - - - - -

Three days of hard riding to the northeast from the Gynk town was all that Kaelyn really could remember. She had set off at a flat-out gallop through the town, her body completely numb from the actions she had just done. It hadn't taken long before the stallion she was astride burst out of the surrounding swamplands of Gynk, picking up speed as his hooves found solid ground. The woman had remained leaned over the horse's neck, her shoulders rolling with each forward lunge the beast took, listening to the snorts from his flared nostrils as he galloped on. They had ridden throughout the night, not slowing until the sun was well risen from the flat horizon to the east. Even then, Kaelyn continued pressing the creature on, guiding him away from the road and into the rugged stretches of land. The woman only stopped when the horse's flanks were coated with slick, white sweat that streaked down his legs and fetlocks.

It had been much the same through the days. The woman pressed onward, slowly widening the gap between herself and whatever following force that the Gynk town might have sent after her once the body of the nobleman was discovered. She and the horse might have stopped three times at most each dawning, only for the sake of rest and food, which was scavenged as there were no small towns in the line she was taking.

The sun had risen probably an hour or two back, the third sunrise she had seen since she had fled from the town back in Gynk. It was getting cold, moreso with each mile that passed beneath the stallion's hooves. Kaelyn had been half bent over the horse's neck, her shoulders trembling slightly as she kept the blood red cloak wrapped tightly over her small frame. Her brows were furrowed deeply in thought, her eyes dropped down past the stallion's left shoulder to stare at the rocky ground that clattered beneath his black hooves. They were entering mountainous terrain, obvious from the rocks that crunched under the horse's weight and the small peaks of stone just ahead of her. She had been trying to imagine some map of the mainlands, to get some sort of guess to where she was. Swaying slightly as the stallion lurched up onto a rocky incline, the woman frowned deeply. They had to be close to Khenserra, since it was the Khenserra mountain range that could be the first encountered after Gynk. From there, she should be able to catch a ship that would take her back up around to Koldamar, right? Mitsobar was only a few days from there. A faint smirk touched the woman's lips, breaking the concentrated stare to the ground. Perhaps she'd give a visit to her Crescent clan.

Kaelyn was abruptly jarred from her thoughts as the stallion snorted loudly, his weight almost buckling. With a grimace, she shifted a hand back to the end of the saddle, rocking her weight to balance the large horse as he quickly regained his footing on the steep incline. Breathing slowly, she lifted her eyes up to get an idea of where they were. The stallion was taking her straight up over a near invisible path, through the low mountains. Drawing the horse to a stop, Kaelyn twisted around to look back from where she had come. Miles of flat land stretched out before her, appearing completely deserted. Sighing softly, she turned back ahead, nudging the horse with her bare heels before clicking her tongue. Slowly, the stallion picked his way up the trail of rocks, zig-zagging from left to right.

- - - - - -

It took a good hour or so for the woman and stallion to work up the face of the short mountain range, taking the path that led low between the peaks of rock. As the land flattened out for half a mile or so, Kaelyn drew the horse up to a halt. Silence was all that met her ears, apart from the snorted, cloudy breathing of the horse below her. Furrowing her brows once more, she tilted her chin back and exhaled slowly. Her breath fogged up, billowing out in a visible gust that sent a tremble down her spine. It was getting cold, and fast too. Urging the stallion on after the brief hesitation, she guided him toward the steep drop back down the far side of the mountain. Bringing him right along the edge of the rock face, she turned him sideways and drew him to a halt, her eyes falling down to the valley below.

The city of Khenserra spread out along a stretch of land, already bustling with activity as the sun crept up to its high point in the sky. A few miles outside the eastern edge of the town, Kaelyn could glimpse the ocean that rolled forward sluggishly in the cold atmosphere. She stared out toward the sliver of water she could see, her lips parted as her breath drifted forward in the tiny clouds. With a blink, she glanced back down to the city, her body shifting as the stallion anxiously swayed his weight to the right. Small pebbles broke loose from the edge of the rock face, scattering themselves down the stone as they fell. With a low chuckle, the woman shook her head then tugged on the reins, turning the stallion about to the near invisible path that led down the far side of the wall once more, leaning back slowly in the saddle to balance herself out, moving with the horse as he began the decent.

- - - - - -

It was about a mile outside the gates of Khenserra that Kaelyn drew the blood red stallion to a stop once more. She gazed ahead, knowing the town was just before her. Then slowly, she rocked forward in the saddle and swung her right leg over. Soundlessly, she dropped down off the back of the horse, stretching for a moment. Her hands reached down, fumbling with the leather buckles of the black saddle as the stallion dropped his head to the ground, snuffling almost disdainfully at the dry grass. Uncaring to the beast's antics, Kaelyn lifted the leather saddle off the stallion's back and flung it aside to the ground, where it landed with a thud. The blanket beneath the saddle followed soon thereafter before Kaelyn stepped tentatively to the horse's head.

The woman lifted a hand up to stroke over the dished nose of the stallion, smiling vaguely before her hands came up to the buckles of the bridle. Silently, she worked the bridle off of the stallion and tossed it along with the saddle. Her eyes drifted to the beast's own, staring at him for a long moment before she spoke in a soft voice.

"We're done here, za'karid. Cannot risk someone recognizing you."

Then she stepped back, flinging her arms up with a maddened shout. The stallion startled, flinging his head up with a snort before he wheeled around, lurching forward to the open lands. It was almost too easy, as if the beast whom she had just called brother had sensed her meaning. He took off, without once hesitating. Grinning wryly, Kaelyn stepped over to the pile of cloth and leather, kneeling down before it. Within minutes, she had struck a spark to the cloth, settling the pile aflame. Rising to her full height, the woman stared for a long time into the vivid orange of the smoldering flames, watching as they shifted with the breezes coming off the ocean. Then she bowed her head, sighing heavily as her hands lifted the blood red hood of her cloak up over her coppery hair. Turning away from the fire, the woman silently set off on foot toward the gates of Khenserra, her strides slow but determined.

Her mind wandered as she strode forward calmly, careless of the wind that swept forward from the east. Her eyes were cold and blank as she stared forward, her arms swaying with her steps. She was imagining the sight of the nobleman from the few nights back, how his body writhed in pain as she slit his throat and carelessly watched him bleed to his death. Something itched against her palm as she cleared the distance to the gates of Khenserra. Perhaps this town would have a little inn or tavern as well. Perhaps this town would have a nobleman or two that would entertain her insatiable need for a little dangerous fun.

Perhaps she'd leave her mark here like she had back in Gynk. The though amused her, leaving at least one nobleman of each town she visited dead in a pool of his own blood. What sheer insane bloodlust would do to some people. Yes, perhaps she would indeed repeat the game all over again.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »


"First Lord Alerend.. Now Lord Barton and Count Harcourt. Two in one city and no one's been able to lay a hand on this bitch. I heard that her head is wanted by the Albarians too, for some murder."

The young man spoke quietly as he took a seat at the round table in the back of the tavern. His pale eyes narrowed against the smokey haze, a frustrated suspicion glinting over the bland brown hue. In one black-gloved hand was a tattered piece of parchment, a formal handwriting scrawled over the top as he tugged the folds open. Rocking forward, he pulled himself up to the table with the accompanied sound of the chair scraping over wooden flooring. A puff of thick pipe smoke wafted forward to his face, causing him to peer up into the weathered features of his accomplice. The grey-haired man grunted once, clamping his teeth down on the worn pipe and extending a hand out for the tattered parchment. He settled back into the chair as the young man handed it over obligingly, his beady black eyes flicking over the writing. When he spoke, it was in a gruff voice.

"Albar, eh? She's the supposed murderer of Andrew Hardcast, I see. Aye, they had her jailed and set for execution before the woman up and escaped. Hadn't been heard of or seen since, up until now. And it all ties together, as well. Do you recognize these surnames, Mortagne?"

The old man set the pipe down, a bushy and grey brow lifting as his eyes turned to his younger counterpart. The young man hesitated openly, glancing aside in thought before blinking in mild surprise. He bit down on his lip in order to stop a gasp of realization. Rocking forward, the young man wound his hands together atop the table, his voice a mere hiss as he replied to the elder man.

"They... Every one of them is Albarian or tied to Albar through influence... This woman is after Albar blood, isn't she? But why would she have any reason to be? What's her motive?"

The grey-haired man again grunted, nodding his head once in agreeance to Mortagne's words. He dropped his black eyes back to the weathered parchment, rubbing a thumb over the textured paper in thought. Then he spoke carefully, each word thought out ahead of his saying it.

"Rumor has it she's from the desert tribe that calls themselves Yr'zana. Very well known through Yr-Yzech and half feared by Albar nobles simply because many of them have been targetted by the tribe's assassins. That may be all it is, inbred hostility. But the care she's taking in choosing these targets... I highly doubt that's all it is. There's something more fuelling this. What it is, I do not know."

The young man leaned back, his eyes drifting to a barmaid that flitted from one table to the next. He couldn't help but chuckle at the nervous expression on the girl's face, an aftermath of the events that had taken place in Khenserra. After a moment of listening to the elder man's words, he gave a nod and lifted a hand to motion to the barmaid. His eyes lingered on the girl as she straightened and glanced to the table, only to nod quickly and finish handing out the order she now carried. Silence lingered between the two men before the younger of the two turned back, a hand lifted to adjust his coat. His voice was edged with sarcasm as he spoke, a smirk tugging arrogantly at his lips.

"Perhaps her unfaithful lover was Albarian and she's killing out of maddened heartache..."

A synchronized chuckle came from both of the men as the young barmaid at last managed stepping over to them. She smiled hesitantly, glancing between them as she approached just in time to hear the older man grumble "Don't be ridiculous, now."

- - - - - -

A grimace shadowed the woman's face completely as she leaned over the edge of the boat, her hands clamping about the rungs of the wooden rail. She breathed in deeply, only to nearly wretch again at the smell of salt and the distinct roll of the ship as a wave broke across its bow. A low groan slipped past her lips as coppery curls of hair drifted with the breeze coming off the water. Sea sickness had always gotten the better of her.

Kaelyn ran her tongue over her teeth in obvious disgust, only to spit loudly down to the water on the other edge of the boat. She took another slow breath before shoving herself away from the low rail. Her hands came up to her hair, tugging at them almost maddeningly as she stepped back along the dock. As she moved across, the woman could feel the stares of the various pirate men working over the sails of the ship. They were not lusty, hungry gazes on her either. They were suspicious. Kaelyn had felt the suspicion in every pair of cutthroat eyes that landed on her from the night she had practically thrown money to the captain for passage. It was driving the woman to her wit's end, bit by bit.

Coming to an abrupt stop in her slow pacings along the deck of the boat, Kaelyn spun about to stare up into the riggings of the ship. Her eyes locked on one particular man, who had been staring down at her while working an intricate knot into the rope at his hands. His face twisted into a startled expression as their gazes met, only for him to swiftly peer down to the rope in his grasp with renewed and adamant interest. A scoffing chuckle drifted from Kaelyn's lips before she turned and moved to the descent of stairs leading down into the belly of the ship. She shook her head once, a quiet curse following the chuckle as she ducked down and moved toward the various sleeping cabins.

She was only a few doors from the cabin she had been assigned when muffled voices captured her interest. Drawing to a quick halt, Kaelyn drifted aside to stand near one window-less door. A hand extended out to settle on the mildewed and moist wood, her head tilting aside to better grasp the words drifting through.

"Y'saw that woman that forced herself aboard! Th' ink on 'er face... It's obvious who sh' is, Perry! You been hearin' the rumors, juss like I have."

A crooked, dangerous smile found Kaelyn's lips at this point, her ears only picking up a deep and uncoherent reply from the captain of the ship. Her bottom lip slid between her teeth as she nibbled on it idly, refraining from chuckling at the higher, excitable voice she could understand. A thud echoed up to her, a fist being slammed into a table.

"C'mon, Perry! She's gots gold out for 'er head! We could hit the riches with thi' bitch! All's ya gotta do is wait 'til we hit Koldamar wharf, tie 'er up and give 'er to the Albars."

Give her to the Albarians. Shaking her head once more, Kaelyn let her hand slide down from the door. She took a slow breath, only to proceed on to her own cabin. Quietly shoving through the door and letting it close behind her, Kaelyn moved to the small bed. She sat down on it, her eyes roaming about the cramped area before she merely fell back amongst the woven blankets. Her eyes fell closed, a wicked grin on her face.

They would be after her, when they hit the Koldamar wharf in five days. Add that to the Albarians that had been after her for months now, the Gynk fools that had followed her after Alerend's death and any other random person chasing her and it made quite a crowd. A tremble drifted up Kaelyn's spine as she turned over with her back to the cabin wall. If anything, it was slowly becoming an addicting game of cat and mouse. At least it keeps my mind distracted, she idly mused as she silently drifted into a light doze.
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Gregory Hardcast
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Post by Gregory Hardcast »

The castle of the late Andrew Hardcast looked pretty in winter. Its high, decorated stone walls surrounding the grounds and the keep were snow-tipped, with a cold wind ruffling the flags perched either sides of the outer gate. Engraved on the huge oaken gateway with steel-rimmed sides were various images of the family's past glory, with the words 'In us do we trust' elegantly carved beneath. It was a picturesque scene, little noise or visible evidence of much activity, save for the occasional calling of birds, and the sounds coming from the gatehouse just beyond the oak doors, where the crackling of a fire competed against the silent winter cold.

Jack Rivers was an old man, and had given most of his years to the service of the Hardcasts. He was a senior member of the household, but his lowly position as gatekeeper had deprived him any chance for much advancement, so he’d simply learnt to accept his position in life and keep himself to himself. Jack’s facial features were characterised by many large, red boils dotted around it, an unlucky predicament which had deprived him of ever finding a wife. Being unmarried however had its benefits. He had no person to worry for but himself and the castle gates, and the gates themselves rarely saw action these years.

Ever since the old Hardcast had been murdered several years back, and his younger son had taken up the mantle, life seemed to have stalled. The poor lad had little idea of politics or current affairs, leaving most business issues to his mother, and Captain Blackwater, leader of the small Albarian force which remained in the Hardcast family’s service. In the old days of course, things had been completely different. Castle Hardcast was one of the social centres of Albarian society’s upper echelons, not to mention serving as a Duke Andrew Hardcast’s military base. There had been a constant stream of visitors arriving daily; it had been a time of action, exciting even for a lowly gatekeeper.

Jack took out a skewer, spearing a small pork sausage and holding it over his fire, pressing his other hand, gloved with the fingertips poking forth over the flame’s warmth. After another minute of the fire’s crackling, the old gatekeeper pulled the sausage away, sniffed it before raising it to his mouth. He was just about to take a bite when the unmistakeable sound of a fist hammering on the gate cut him off. His first reaction was surprise, then irritation at being interrupted during his meal. Poking his head out the window, Jack gave a shout.


‘Give me a minute aye? Stop yer hammering, I just sat down to break me fast!’

He pulled his head back inside with a grumble, before the knocker returned his shout, with added interest.

‘By the Gods Rivers! If you do not desist from stuffing your face and open the damn gate right now, I will personally hang you from my own gatehouse!’

The old man’s lower draw dropped. The voice, unless his brains had been addled by age (a possibility, he supposed) belonged to his master of more than 3 years ago; the late Duke Andrew Hardcast. His face paling, Jack managed to poke his head out once more and stammer.

‘S..sir?’

‘Must I walk you through the entire process little man? I am tired, and getting colder every moment you continue to prattle. Open the BLOODY GATE!’

The colour draining from his face, Jack Rivers pulled himself together, hobbling round to hurriedly pull on his coat and step outside of his gate-house. Moving as quickly as his old body would allow, he began turning the winching mechanism, allowing the gates to gradually creak open, a drop of sweat appearing on his forehead despite the cold.

Through the gates strode a man. He was dressed in a long, expensive coat of some exotic type of greyish fur, his hands thickly gloved, and his boots high and leather-made. His hair hung across his shoulders and over his ears, white-gold and silky smooth, framing his handsome, moderately tanned face, with a disdainful mouth and sparkling, deep blue eyes. A small, hunched man followed behind him with a sack probably containing the man’s belongings, scurrying after his master who strode purposefully past the dumbfounded gatekeeper. Shoving the man aside and lifting his chin, one eyebrow arching as he observed his ancestral home, Gregory Hardcast spoke in a deliberate, amused tone.


‘It seems age has dulled your wits, Master Rivers. A pity, I recalled you most capable during my youth. I hope you will serve me better than you apparently serve my little brother.’

The hunched servant grinned impishly at rivers, standing just behind his master and breathing raggedly. Jack shook his head, thoughts of how, and why slowly filtering through his brain. Gregory on the other hand, took a moment to breath in the air, before he walked towards Hardcast Keep with a light-hearted chuckle. Home, sweet home.
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Larien.
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Location: USA

Post by Larien. »

((kind of a collaboration type thing, permission to post from po dante))

He stood still, leaning back against the wall of the gate as he waited. He didn’t need to collect his things, his back was as bare as the day he had arrived, only now he left with his left arm hung in a sling. He waited for her, his icy blue eyes glancing up from time to time to look to the sky, his usual careless gaze replaced by one of cunning inspection – the look of a tracker already on his features. He looked to the woman as she approached, nodding wordlessly as he moved from the wall, his steps light on the cobblestone pathway as he moves forward – knowing that her footsteps would be close behind.
It was a long walk to the harbour, his eyes kept flicking to the sky, as though they were racing against some unseen enemy. His pace was quick, slowing only as he came in sight of the harbour, exhaling faintly with relief as his eyes moved over a familiar ship – seen only that morning.


The bag was light on her shoulder, carrying only a few rolls and some coins, it had taken her less than a minute to grab what she needed. The desert woman followed the man silently, her mind racing with troubled thoughts. They had to find her...before she slipped up. She couldn't..wouldn't...let her sister be jailed again, even if she had to fight an entire army. Dark eyes, black as night, focused blankly on the ground as they hurried along, only lifting when they reached the harbor and the man before her spoke up. Kahli pulled the hood of her cloak up over her thick, pitch black hair, her hand sliding down the tattoo on the side of her face before dropping back to her side. She studied the ship in a calculating manner, her gaze sliding over every man visible boldly, sizing up which could prove troublesome.

The men working the ship were ruffians, liquor heavy on their breath as they spoke, each grinning as though they knew some deep secret about everyone they met.

“ ‘Ey Blade! Back so soon, ‘ey?”

Dante let a gruff grin pull onto his lips as he raised his right hand in greeting, chuckling lowly as he waved over the man who seemed to be the Captain. The Captain looked to the man with a broad smile, his eyes shifting to the woman, his smile faltering slightly before looking back, his foot propped up on the ship’s side as he leans forward, calling down.

“We not give you enough of the firewater, mate?”

Dante waved his hand in the air, chuckling aloud as he looked up, “Aye…aye…listen, I need a favor…can we board, Rob?”

His question was answered quickly as a ladder was dropped from the deck, allowing them to forego to loading dock. He glanced back at the woman, his expression dropping to suddenly become serious as he reaches forward to grasp the rope ladder, nodding firmly, “Come on Kahli…”


The desert woman nods silently at his words and climbs easily up the ladder behind him, dropping to the deck and taking a slow look around. The smell of fish, liquor, and unwashed men assaulted her nose as her dark eyes slid over the deck. A tall, greasy looking man gave a leering grin, his eyes roaming over her unashamedly as he nudged the man beside him and laughed out a few crude words, gesturing towards her. With a nearly silent chuckle, Kahli slips a hand to the small of her back, searching for the comforting feel of the dagger hidden there, her fingers playing over the smooth, familiar hilt. The dagger had seen much blood, and likely wouldn't mind getting another taste should the men get any unsavory ideas. Ignoring the men then, her head tilts as she listens absently to Dante's conversation with the Captain, almost holding her breath. She didn't care what she had to do, this ship was taking them to Gynk, regardless of what the Captain decides.

The Captain squints a narrowed gaze to Kahli, his hand moving up to slide over his bushy mustache, speaking grudgingly with a curt nod, "Alri', Blade. S'long as there'll be no problems with that 'un there." He points a thick finger at Kahli as he speaks and she meets his stare evenly, her dark eyes glinting with a steely resolve as she speaks up, her heavy accent slicing through the air, "You've heard rumors of a desert woman slitting a few noble throats, eh? Know where she was last seen?" A few coins exchange hands and the Captain turns to bark orders to his men before he turns his beedy eyes back to her, the ship giving a lurch as they finally set sail. A gruff, "Khenserra" was all she got from him before he shuffled away. The Captain was uneasy, the piercing eyes of the woman worried him, along with the strange tattoos on her cheek and wrist, he could almost swear he'd seen them before...

Kahli moves to the side, dropping her bag at her feet as she leans out over the edge of the ship, the wind pulling off her hood and whipping her long hair around her face. The crew moves around her as if she doesn't exist, other than a few jabs and lusty grins from the more bold..and foolish...among them. The salt water sprays up in a mist as the ship cuts through the water, the air filled with the shouting of men and flapping of sails as they steer a course towards Gynk. Khenserra...last seen in Khenserra. How many had Kaelyn killed by now? She reaches out a hand to Dante, drawing him close around her and leaning back against his chest as she mutters a few quiet words, "Khenserra, dove. We'll have to move fast to catch her."
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Larien.
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Location: USA

Post by Larien. »

Dante grunts as his boot hits the familiar dock of Gynk, a vague grin over his lips as he looks around the harbor of the city, his hand reaching behind him to help the woman down to the dock, his eyes reluctantly moving from the landscape. He looks up to the bow of the ship, a hand lifting stiffly to his forehead in a salute, winking shortly to the Captain as he moves forward, barrels of liquor moving behind them in a shuffle. He looks down at the woman, pausing to speak lowly into her ear, his icy blue eyes shining. “I think Rob is glad to be rid of ye’…” He glances up for a moment before looking back down, his gaze suddenly one of a serious nature, “Where do you think she would’ve stopped by…?”

Kahli glances up at him with eyes full of turbulent emotions, her jaw set firmly as she waves a hand ahead of them, "We'll ask around in these taverns..then head for Khenserra." Her steps are sure as she strides forward, her cloak billowing behind her. Heading for the nearest tavern and shoving open the door, she winds her way through the tables of blubbering, drunken men to the bar. The dingy room resonated with loud, rough laughter, but it fell on deaf ears, the woman being focused on the barkeep as she slams her hand onto the dirty bar. The barkeep looked to her dismissively, his hands busy filling a beer mug for an eager customer. Kahli takes a deep breath, her hands clenching into fists as she struggles to keep calm, knowing flying into a tantrum wouldn't help get the answers she sought. She keeps an even stare on the barkeep as she signals to him again, leaning back to mutter to Dante, "She's probably been to every damn one of these taverns, you know. This is pointless, we should just head to Khenserra."

Dante sighs, moving a hand to the crook of the woman’s neck as he takes a step forward, leaning his forearm on the bar to speak lowly into her ear, “Let me handle this, lass.” He looks up, a devilish grin forming on his lips as he looks to the barkeep – pounding his fist onto the table top as he yells, “ ‘Ey! Don’t you in Gynk know how to serve a drink or two?” The barkeep looks up, a deep chuckle coming from him as he grins slowly, “I know what you want.” He winks, reaching under the bar, quickly producing a bottle of a reddish liquor – pouring two glasses full of the liquor. “Concoction number…12 isn’t it?” The barkeep grins, sliding the glasses down as he winks knowingly to the man. Dante catches the glasses, passing one over to Kahli as he raises the other to his lips, hissing in deeply as he grunts, “Aye…and a good one it is…look, lad – know where I can get two horses cheap?” The barkeep shakes his head slowly, leaning against the bar as he gives a wink, “Trying to avoid Claire – eh? Aye I don’t think she’ll be keen on seeing you…look….go to the back…” He leans in, his voice in a near whisper as he speaks to the two, “There should be two horses tied to an oak…I know the owner…He’ll be so drunk by the end of the night he won’t even notice.” The barkeeps eyes flick to a plump red-faced man with a goblet of mead in hand. Dante’s eyes follow his, quickly flicking back with a wink, “Thanks, lad, I appreciate it…” He reaches a hand forward, clapping the barkeep on the shoulder with a wink as he drains his drink, grunting as he slams the glass down on the table top.

For once the desert woman ignores the liquor set in front of her, choosing instead to stride quickly to the door. The street in front of the tavern is nearly deserted, only a few drunken bums staggering by. Kahli slips silently around the corner of the building, glancing over her shoulder once to make sure Dante is following. Two horses stand tied to a tree, as promised, each with a hind leg cocked in a relaxed stance. The horses were of obvious good blood, a thick, dapple grey gelding and a shining black mare. Four finely shaped ears swivel around as she approaches, her hands immeadiately setting to work uncinching the heavy saddle of the pitch black mare, hefting it from her back and tossing it behind the tree. The mare snorts quietly, her hind legs dancing as the woman slips back around to untie the reins from the tree, running her hands along the mare's neck as she whispers a few nearly silent words to the animal. The horse's legs are long, her barrel deep and her chest strong, a creature made for running. Her delicate face and high set tail speaking of her good desert bloodline. Kahli makes a quick leap onto the mares strong back, her hands wrapping around the reins and into the animals thick mane as she digs her bare heels into her side, pointing the mare to the northeast. With a lunge, the mare bursts into a gallop, the lithe form of the desert woman crouched close against her neck, the dapple gray pounding along in her wake.
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Ayla
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Location: North Carolina

Post by Ayla »

Dusk had settled about an hour back, causing the ocean water to turn a horrid pitch black as it swayed against the side of the cargo ship. The air was thick with cold, crisp moisture, stagnant with sea salt as the winds were not blowing at all. Above head, the sails were completely still apart from the meager flutter here and there. For any pirate or sailor, it was a bad omen. The usual calm before the storm. To the man standing at the bow of the old cargo ship, it was nothing more than an annoying hindrance. They were losing time and distance behind the pirate ship that had set off from Khenserra's docks a matter of days back. With each hour passed, it was just more and more distance their quarry got between them.

Glaring down at the rolling black waves, the young Mortagne gave a short scoffing hiss and shoved up from the railing of the boat. A gloved hand scrubbed through his hair in his irritation as he strode toward the stairs leading below-deck. In an instant, he was at the door of one large room below, shouldering past it and striding over the slightly rocking floor toward his grey-haired counterpart that was standing over a large desk. As he drew even with the table, he curled a broad hand and slammed it against the thick wood with a loud thud. The elder man sighed and lifted his beady eyes indignantly at the interruption, a clear question in his look at the young man's action. With a grunt, Mortagne shifted and spoke up. "Has word been sent up north of the woman? Gods help us if she escapes now because of the damned winds."

The older man straightened with pursed lips, a severe look on his rugged face. Rolling his shoulders back, he turned casually and stepped around the table to one of the many cabinets in the large room. With a rattle, he drew out a carefully sealed glass of deep red liquid, which he uncorked and followed with two iron goblets. As he poured the ruddy liquid, he spoke calmly over his shoulder. "Messages all out along the coast, by hawk, dove and horseback. Salkamar is on alert, warning are being taken to Albar... Specifically the Hardcast stronghold. That kid that took Andrew's place will be hard-pressed for safety otherwise."

Silently, he recorked the strange liquid and replaced it in the lockers. With a smooth turn accompanied by a chuckle, he carried the two iron goblets with him, handing one over to his younger companion. With a lazy wink, he lifted the goblet in his own hand up in a sort of toast. "Relax. No matter where that woman goes, she's got hounds not far after her." Mortagne stared disdainfully down to the goblet he had been given, his nose wrinkled in a clear expression of his distaste. With an annoyed click of his tongue, he shook his head and tossed the liquid back, savoring the burn against his throat.

- - - - - -

Both moons were high center in the dark sky when the large boat moored at last into Koldamar's wharfs. The trip had taken nearly twice as long as it should have, for lack of winds that was abnormal for the cold months. It had left Kaelyn impatient beyond measure, knowing that every time they were slowed, someone was gaining ground on her. To be completely honest, she had more or less forgotten the threat of the very crew she boarded with, who had seemed to be getting just as restless as she with the passing days. She had other things to do than worry about than a few vagabond pirates.

It was when she felt the ship slow considerably, along with a cry on the deck above that they were mooring in, that Kaelyn dragged herself up from the ruddy bed that had become all too familiar to her. In curiosity, the woman had quietly slipped out past the door of her berth and had padded barefoot down the corridor that led to the stairs up on deck. Grasping the railing near the stairs, she shoved herself up and into the cold night air, trembling suddenly at the chill. With a sharp breath out, Kaelyn strode out to the bow of the ship, ignorant of the lurid stares she got from a few of the ship's members that were bringing in the sails. Her hands extended to curl about the low wooden rails of the bow's edge as she turned her face to the wind, her eyes landing on the port city spreading out below the moon's light. Lanterns still flickered in many of the windows, giving Koldamar a strange and eerie glow. Then her eyes fell to the wharf they were drawing up against, measuring the distance it would take to jump off the ship, her lips pursed into a thin line.

One of the pirates paused in his work, his glaring eyes lingering on the woman at the head of the boat. He watched as her head turned down in a blatant, judging look to the dock boards below, causing his brows to furrow. Shifting from the ropes he was rolling up, a hand lifted in a quick signal to another man, a burlier one. The larger man flashed a look up to the Captain, who silently nodded. Throughout the wordless conversation, the other pirates who had taken notice began to leer and smirk as they went about their duties, heads slightly cocked toward the woman who was already planning her escape.

Kaelyn had made a fatal error. In the month or more that she had been on this ship, she had grown careless of the company of all the men aboard. She had forgotten the talk she had overheard the first day on board, the captain being convinced to corral her in and sell her off to the Albarians. A fatal error, for she was now completely oblivious to what was passing between the pirate men in the form of silent conversation as she planned her best move of action to get through Koldamar. Her eyes flicked back up to the sprawling city ahead, leaving her blind to the two figures approaching silently on either side of her, their steps well timed with the crash of small waves against the rocking bow of the ship. She wouldn't have been immediately aware of them at all. That is, until two massive hands suddenly clamped down on her biceps with bruising pain, suddenly wrenching her aside.

A hiss of instant pain followed a surprised yelp as Kaelyn found herself spun around then suddenly crashing full-force onto the deck of the ship. She recoiled instinctively, her bruised body tensing as a foot slammed out against the man. It connected to rock-hard and muscled thigh, the burly man merely grunting as another figure knelt beside her now immobilized body. Kaelyn writhed, feeling the bruises already spreading over her knees and sides where she had been shoved down, nearly breathless from the impact. She snarled, her lips curling from her teeth in a vicious expression as the growl transformed into a maddened screech. She twisted her body to the left against the pirate's vice-like grip on her arms, looking for any sort of give when she abruptly found a rolled and dirty cloth suddenly flung in front of her before it jerked back against her mouth, effectively choking back her scream. Kaelyn's eyes went wide at this point, as it sunk in that she was trapped. The cloth tightened mercilessly around the back of her head, pulling hair as it was tied off in a rough and almost strangling knot. The woman coughed bitterly against the vile taste of the cloth in her mouth, causing involuntary tears to well up in her vivid and angry eyes. She writhed again, only to be knocked off balance as her shoulders were wrenched up behind her, straining the muscles painfully. Her head lowered in a muffled gasp, hair falling into her face as her wrists were pinned together. Coarse rope flung around the thin wrists, cinching down on the bronzed skin as the two men chuckled coyly about how easy the task had been. In an instant, as fast as the entire ordeal had taken place, Kaelyn was hefted up to her feet again. Her head tossed back in an almost indignant manner as the smaller of the two men stepped forward with a light tut of his tongue. The large man kept a hold of the rope that tied about her wrist, hovering over her like a foreboding shadow. With a strangled snarl, Kaelyn jerked back against the cold and bony hand that clasped her chin, her widened eyes locking on the man as he nearly cooed the words he spoke. "My, my... Shame 't is, ta tie such a pretty li'l thing up like that. An' we don't even get a taste, yeah. Ah well... Them Albars will love you, li'l flower, now won't they?"

Kaelyn made a decision right then and there that if she ever saw that bastard again, it would be his blood staining the ground. She conveyed as much when she lunged toward him, only to have her arms be snapped back by the solid rope around her wrists. The large man that held her gave a booming, vile laugh before he jerked back against the rope, effectively forcing Kaelyn to stumble back toward the stairs that led below-deck. Once below, she was haphazardly thrown into a dimly lit room and led over to one of the many support beams throughout each room. Carelessly, the large man shoved her down to the ground before proceeding to tie off the excess rope from her wrists about the beam, securing her there. Kaelyn pulled one knee up, turning her livid stare onto the large man as he worked. Her body trembled and ached, but she gave no fight for now. Instead, her unwavering gaze followed the man's back as he stepped around and out of the door, leaving her in pitch black silence with only the mildewed scent of the rag at her mouth to accompany her.

- - - - - -

Not another person came near the room she was tied in for hours. As the night passed, Kaelyn sat silently at attention against the moist floor of the room, ignoring the spreading of the bruises over her skin. Her eyes remained unwaveringly on the door that led into the room, merely waiting for when she would undoubtedly be dragged to the deck and tossed off to the first Albarian figure found. Only once did she look away, twisting her head around to stare over her shoulder to the porthole on the far side of the room. She could see the grey-yellow of dawn glinting off the distant waves, which told her that it was only a matter of hours. Sure enough, around noon a new figure strode forward and shoved the door open. The austere and stern set of his face as he stepped around and smoothly jerked the rope untied from the beam told Kaelyn that she was in the company of the ship's captain. With a low grumble, Kaelyn rocked with the pull of the captain, lurching to her feet in quiet obedience before she was led out and up the ship's stairs.

As they emerged on deck, the woman had to blink away spots of black as her eyes adjusted to the bright sun. Again, she shuddered against the cold air before her narrowed eyes turned to the catwalk she was being led to. Not far off, the clattering and shouting of many voices echoed up from the trade yards that accompanied every large wharf. Her sore body tensed slowly as she was led down the angled ramp, her chin lifting arrogantly despite the fact that she was tied and being shoved around. It was a silent walk that Kaelyn and the captain made down the length of the docks and toward the bustling activity of merchants and civilians. With every step, Kaelyn felt a coldness prickle down her spine, something she hadn't truly felt in years. Fear. Her narrowed eyes flashed left then right, then back again as they swept over every body she passed. She was searching for any sign of her doom. The arms of Albar, on one person was all that the Captain needed to send the woman off to her fate deeper in the mainlands. Gritting her teeth down on the cloth that strangled her voice, Kaelyn shifted her hands against the rope that held tight about her wrists. She had absolutely no way of escape...

But as the captain made a round with her through the flurry of activity, Kaelyn's dread began to gradually subside. Amongst the countless figures around her, there did not seem to be a single Albarian soldier or civilian at that in Koldamar's trade market today. The captain was growing agitated, the muscles along his jaws snapping visibly with his frustration. With a maddened jerk, the man spun Kaelyn around and began shoving people aside as he strode back toward the direction of the docks. It was about halfway through the mass of people when the captain suddenly found a fat but strong hand snapping out across his chest, causing him to draw to an immediate halt. Tightening his hold on the rope that kept Kaelyn at his side, the man turned to stare at the figure that had stopped him. With a glare on her own face, Kaelyn shifted aside to get a peek of the broad man who strode forward casually. He was a man with a large belly on him, dressed in the finest of clothes that would make Albar's lords jealous. Rings of all fashions glittered over his fat fingers and at his side, a young boy with a leather collar at his throat stood by, laden with various parcels of the day's shopping. Kaelyn gazed silently to the boy and to the collar at the kid's throat. Her shoulders tensed visibly as it all connected. The fat, flashy man that had stopped the captain was a slave owner. And the way his beady brown eyes slid over Kaelyn's bruised but otherwise proud frame was a dead giveaway to his reasons of interference.

"Well well, it's been a while since we last spoke, Perry my friend. I did not realize you were back in the slave business. What have you here?" Perry's eyes narrowed slowly though he said nothing, vague curiosity belying his otherwise stern expression. He stood aside, hand firm on the rope at Kaelyn's wrists as the fat man strode forward and lifted a jeweled hand up to the woman's chin. He turned her head from side to side, examining the tattoos marking her face with amused recognition. Unbothered by them, he moved his pudgy hand up to snag a lock of her wavy hair, stroking over it slowly. Kaelyn's body was rigid now, her lip curled up in an unseen sneer as she barely restrained the urge to shove her knee to the large man's groin. As the man drew back, he waved to the young boy who hurried over silently and set a heavy purse in the wide hand. "Desert blood, feisty as anything else but endlessly easy on the eyes. Eight gold coins for her, Perry. She'd be a delectable addition amongst my household." Perry's face shifted in a brief look of conflict as he remained silent, considering the offer as the large man gave a simpering grin. Kaelyn remained stiff where she stood, her eyes locked on the fat man now as her shoulders hunched defensively.

At last, the captain gave and nodded gruffly, extending his empty hand. With a contented chortle, the large man made a show of passing the gold coins over to the captain, letting the coins clink together loudly as they exchanged palms. Then the fat man reached out to take the rope at Kaelyn's back. In an instant, Perry handed the rope over and turned, disappearing amongst the throngs of other people. Happily, the large man stepped around Kaelyn, turning her to face him once more as he waved one hand to the young boy a second time. The boy paused, reaching amongst one of the many bags he toted before he dragged out a thick leather strip with three smaller ties on each end. A second collar, which the boy quietly handed up to the large man. Almost immediately, Kaelyn twisted a shoulder in to slam against the man as he reached around to wrap the collar about her thin neck. He grunted, quickly grasping the collar as he hooked the arm around Kaelyn's own, stopping her action. In a snap, the large man released his hold on the rope at her wrist, raising the empty palm up to slap forcibly over the woman's face with strength enough to jerk her head aside. A strangled gasp came from Kaelyn instinctively before she jerked her head back to glare bitterly at the man, who merely smiled sweetly as he took the chance to wrap the leather about her throat. "Now, now, you woman... You belong to me and I will be damned if you behave like the heathen you are. Do not dare try your little tricks on me, I have broken many a desert woman to my liking and you are no different." He jerked the ties of the collar at that point, pulling it just tight enough to be irritating around Kaelyn's neck. She stood silently now, her dark eyes smoldering in the silence.

- - - - - -

"Yes, yes. We will be headed to Falmarha right this moment, you'll have your wares within the month." The voice in front of Kaelyn spoke arrogantly, a voice that had been chafing her for the past two hours at which she had been quietly paraded around the merchant ports. The glower had never left her face as she had been pulled up to the side of a horse that had taken the burden the young boy had been carrying. Her wrists were now in front of her, having been briefly untied in the presence of armed guards then readjusted. The excess rope was knotted around a horn of the horse's unique saddle, securing her to the beast's side. Ahead of the horse was another, larger stallion that bore the entire weight of the fat man that had become the bane of her existence. They had been standing idly at the edges of the activity for half an hour now as the man contentedly conversed with another burly figure.

At last, however, the fat man astride the muddy sorrel gelding seemed weary of the casual talk. He lifted a fat hand in an indifferent salute, bidding his companion farewell. With a shift on the saddle which sent the gelding settling a hoof to the side to keep himself straight, the man gathered up the reins and clicked his tongue. He tossed a casual look over his shoulder to the woman who stood too silently beside the younger parcel-laden colt, even though she had been mercifully freed of the mildewed rag at her mouth. A smug glint lit in his eyes as he turned ahead with a nod and nudged the gelding forward. Kaelyn had been purposely silent, her eyes distant as she stood beside the young horse. Her arms jerked forward as the horse moved to follow the sorrel gelding, forcing her along at his side. To the fat man, she appeared subdued and listless, which was precisely what had caused the smug look on his face. Kaelyn was lost in thought though as she strode forward, matching her pace to the beast she was tied to. It would be a long many days from Koldamar to Falmarha at this pace, but it was no bother to the woman. She would patiently bide her time and, if things worked out as she hoped, she'd never set foot in the city bordering Salkamar. The fat man that 'owned' her was ignorant despite his earlier threats. Surely... There would be at least one chance for her to escape this damned life he seemed intent to have her in.
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Larien.
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Post by Larien. »

The horses were dripping with sweat by the time they stopped, Dante swung his leg over the side, dropping to the ground with a low grunt, the bandanna holding his hair back was as soaked as the coat of the gelding. He ran his hand over the short fur of the animal, his eyes were a icy blue, the horse shifting, seeming unsettled by he touch of his hand. He grins widely, standing in front of the animal, pulling at the side of its bit to look it square in the eye. He gives an uncharacteristically gentle smile, even as the horse pulls back against his hold. He releases his hold, allowing the animal to move over to a small pool of water, a roguish grin moving back to his lips as he looks to the woman, his figure partly in shadows – the setting sun to his back.
“I suspect we’ll get there by tomorrow mid-day…I have a friend or two there, one of them is bound to have seen her.” He moves over to the water, pulling off his leather tunic, the chain-mail following suit as he tosses the two the side. He grunts, kneeling down, leaning his head forward into the water, tossing his head back to let the water splash over his back, giving the horses a bit of a start at his sudden movement. He grins, standing as he pulls a hand back through his hair, taking the bandanna along with it, wringing it to free it of the water.


Kahli had remained mounted on the mare as they pulled up and he dismounted, her dark eyes staring ahead unblinkingly. As the mare shies, hopping to the side, she looks to him, startled out of her thoughts. The desert woman lifts a bronzed arm to shield her eyes from the setting sun as her lips twist into a dim, lazy grin, merely giving a silent nod to his words and swinging her leather clad leg over the mare, dropping lightly to the ground. Reins in hand, she leads the mare forward towards the water, letting her take only a few small sips before handing the reins to Dante and kneeling by the water herself, cupping the cool liquid in her hands and washing away the dust from her face and neck.

“Best tie these two up before I scare them away.” He chuckles lowly, taking the reins of both, leading them over to a tree, looping the reins over a low-lying branch, allowing them enough room to reach the water. He moves back to the water hole his eyes moving back to the woman as he gathers his tunic and chain-mail, shoving both into a bag on the gelding’s saddle. He turns to her, his arm draping over the saddle as he gives a low chuckle.

Kahli straightens slowly and turns to him with another dim grin, her mood subdued though her dark eyes can't help but travel over him appreciatively for a moment. She raises her hands to lift her thick hair from the nape of her neck as the sun sinks lower, every passing minute her sister traveling further from her reach. An irritated sigh forces its way from her throat as she strides over to a nearby tree, tugging off her cloak and sinking to the ground. Although a rest was necessary, for the horses, mostly, the time lost grated at her nerves. Pressing her back against the tree, the woman closes her eyes for a brief moment before giving a low chuckle and shaking her head, opening her eyes to look over the man slowly. What was it about this man that made such thoughts swirl in her head when she had more important things to worry about? She pats the ground beside her with a slow smile, resigning herself to the break and deciding to at least make the best of an irritating situation. One hand moves around to unfasten her leather bodice while the other crooks a finger to him, a devilish grin playing over her lips.

He takes a step forward, his arm falling from the saddle as he continues to move forward, his eyes moving to lock on hers with a roguish grin, flashing to a deep blue as he kneels over her, his wet hair falling over his eyes. An arm moves around her waist, pulling her towards him as his lips slip over hers, his mouth moving roughly against hers. He grunts as he feels her hands moves over his bare chest, a deep chuckle in his throat as his hand moves to grip a root of the tree. He glances up at the tree, pulling back a bit before he looks back to her with raised brows, a roguish grin on his lips.

The desert woman pulls him to her without another word, losing herself in his touch, letting his body erase her troubled thoughts, if only for a short time. The rustle of clothing being tossed aside whispered quietly in the stillness of the night, the low snuffling of the horses muffling any quiet whispers and soft moans made in the depths of their passion as they writhed together in the soft grass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly an hour later, Kahli swung up onto the mare once more, her coppery skin still faintly flushed as she slants a tired smile to the man, digging her heels into the mare and pointing her once more to the northeast, calling over her shoulder, "Time to move, lover."

Dante grunts as he pulls himself up on the gelding, his hand running over the dapple grey’s coat as he settles, groggily running a hand over the side of his face, running his palm over his stubbled chin. He gives a low grunt in reply, leaning over the gelding as it takes off after the other.

The mare moves into an easy canter, her strides eating up the ground as they moved steadily towards the town, the stars bright overhead. For hour after hour they rode on silently, the good blood of the horses showing itself with the relentless pace as they wound through the mountains. Finally, in the distance, Khenserra could be seen, dappled by the shadows of the early sunrise.

As they near the city the pair slows, the hooves of the horses seeming to echo in Dante’s ears as they come across more familiar paths. He pulls back on the reins of the gelding, halting it’s movement as he looks to the woman as though waiting for her to do the same before he dismounts, swinging his leg over and dropping onto the ground with a thud. He tugs on the reins of the gelding, pulling him after him as they move into the streets of the town. He moves over to the woman, his eyes a turmoil of grey and blue as he looks down at her, speaking lowly, his voice ragged from exhaustion. “We need to find a lad named Marcus…We fought for a mercenary band together. Last I heard he lives here now…He’s an Albarian – I’m sure he caught wind of Kaelyn if she did pass through.”

The woman drops wearily to the ground, the sweat slicked mare stepping along behind her as she follows him through the town. Her every step made her muscles scream in protest, she walked only to save the little mare that was more exhausted than she. "Marcus, eh? Any idea where we can find him?" They silently passed merchants and hookers, drunks and gamblers before finally reaching the stables and handing over a few coppers and the horses' reins to the stable boy. With a quiet whisper and one last pat on the tired mare's neck, Kahli turns and looks out over the city, her face dirty and trail worn. "Taverns? Brothel? If he's Albarian, he's in either of those places." The woman's nose scrunches up in disgust, spitting out the word "Albarian" as her hand travels up to slide along the long scar on her upper arm, her teeth gritting together for a moment. All this..mess..caused by an Albarian. Kahli's thoughts drifted off, her mind turning over ideas of how to end Gregory's pathetic life in the slowest, most painful way. Visibly shaking herself from her deliciously violent ideas, she lifts her dark eyes to Dante, raising a questioning brow.

He grunts, raising his hand to the back of his head, running it over his hair roughly. “Mm…Marcus was never one for whores…Taverns I suppose.” He pauses, looking over the nearby buildings before raising an arm to point, his feet moving in the direction of the building. He pauses before entering, looking to the woman, his brow furrowed before he swings the door open. His eyes scan over the scattered groups, muffled voices surrounding them in the dark room, light from the door moving through the musky air – a few were unconscious, slumped in their chairs, beer mugs still in hand. He looks over the room, looking over the couples and small groups, his eyes pausing on a head of light blond hair.

He chuckles merely at the sight, a faint grin moving onto his lips as he takes a step forward, grabbing for the woman’s wrist as he moves through the crowd, stopping before the man, his expression hardening as he releases the woman’s wrist, folding his arms over his chest, “Gods be damned…if it isn’t the bastard who tried to kill me.” The blond head turns up, his laughing grin fading as he sees Dante, slowly rising from his seat. His face is what one might expect of an Albarian, though several small scars can be found across his face, the skin rather tan for his kind. He speaks in a pristine accent, looking Dante over in a disgusted manner. “What do you want you piece of shit? Not had enough the last time we met, eh…? Been put out by your dear old Mum again?” Dante’s eyes flash to black as he reaches up, pushing the man back, nearly knocking him over the table. The Albarian stands, a slow grin coming onto his face – Dante’s own face mirroring his as the two begin to laugh, their hands clasping between them briefly. “Where have you been, eh Don?” He laughs gaily, the mans pure blue eyes looking to Kahli, briefly scanning over her before looking back to the man with a wink. “Can’t expect me to be around all the time Marc…listen…I need some information – going on a bit of a hunt ye might say.”


The desert woman's fists clench into fists behind her back, her chest rising with forced, even breaths as her inky eyes settle unnervingly onto the Albarian. Her hand had automatically gone to the dagger at the small of her back upon hearing the terse words, gripping the hilt tightly before uncurling her fingers from it almost grudgingly, as if eager for an excuse to spill this man's blood, to stain his pale hair crimson. Help from an Albarian was hard to swallow, even when necessary to find her sister.

The man known as Marcus pauses, glancing around him before he looks to those at his table with a short nod, moving to an abandoned booth, motioning for the two to sit. He speaks in a rather hushed voice, a grin remaining on his lips, “Back in the business are you, Don? I thought you gave up bounty hunting.” Dante pauses for a moment before grinning slowly, “Not a business one gives up…listen…there’s this lass – a desert woman, been killing some very important Albarians…some eh…people aren’t too happy about that if you know what I mean…has two markings on her face.” He glances over at Kahli shortly before looking to Marcus, the grin gone from the man’s face as he moves to reply. “Aye…aye I’ve heard of her…” His eyes shift to the woman again, as though suddenly uncomfortable in her presence, “You want to know where she went…? I heard word that she boarded a ship heading to the north…Koldamar or Mitsobar…either way she’s not here…thank the Gods.”

A faint smirk pulled at Kahli's lip then, noticing the man's uncomfortable stare and thoroughly enjoying his squirming. She speaks in a lazy tone, her accent purposefully heavier than normal, "Aye, you'd best thank the gods she's not near you." Her lips twist into a devious grin as a long, copper finger taps at the tattoo on her right cheek and she slides from the booth, her eyes moving to Dante with an almost amused glint.

Dante looks to his side hesitantly, quickly rising, his arm moving around the woman’s waist as though in a hope to restrain her, “Thanks lad…before I leave…I need to talk to you about something else…” He glances to the woman again before looking back to Marcus as he nods, “Sure, anything, Don. I’ll be around. You should be able to find me.” He winks as he speaks the words, giving a low laugh before it once again becomes halted as his eyes move to the woman.

Kahli slips from Dante's arm with an eerie chuckle, nodding faintly as she winds her way back through the room and out the door. Taking a deep breath, she leans back against the rough stones of the front of the tavern, her dark eyes shifting over the bustling streets in a blank stare. Best not to be near such a blondie, she thought, it'd only get her into trouble, and trouble they didn't need. Soon enough she would watch the crimson flow over an Albarian's neck...and the eagerness of that desire almost scared her.
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Larien.
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Post by Larien. »

He watched the woman leave the tavern, his brows bent in a furrow before he looks back to the Albarian man with the easiest smile he can manage. “Don’t mind her, lad.” He winks, reaching over to clap the man on the shoulder with a deep laugh. Marcus looks to him hesitantly, “Odd company you choose…but I expect she’s a whirlwind in bed eh?” The man gives a rough wink, chuckling as he seems to relax, the air of jesting and alcohol surrounding him. Dante nods faintly, his chuckle deep as he pulls his hand off the man’s shoulder, “Aye, well…Marcus, you still up for giving an old friend a favor?”
Marcus gives a heavy shrug, his grin easy as he leans back in his seat. “Sure, mate, what is it?” Dante grins, making a gesture towards his back, “Another eh…addition to the collection, mh?” Marcus’s brows raise as his lips form a bright grin, “Always willing to help with that, mate, what’ll it be this time?” Dante laughs, ignoring the question and instead snapping his head towards the back room, “Got the equipment in there?” He grins as Marcus nods and moves to stand, “Always have to work out of the tavern, eh?” He chuckles, patting Marcus on the back as the man moves to lead, Dante’s steps close behind him.


The woman leaning against the outside of the dingy, stone tavern seems as still as a statue, only her dark eyes flicking up and down the street. One may notice the tensing of her body and the almost cruel tilt to her lips as her gaze locks onto a man picking his way through the dusty street, his blond hair brushing the collar of his snowy white shirt. As his bluer than blue eyes raise, locking with the darkness of the desert woman's eyes, her expression slips into a well rehearsed, seductive stare, a lusty twist to her smile. The Albarian's eyes light up in recognition of the promise of her gaze, his own lips lifting into a cocky smirk as he swaggers to her side and props his forearm on the wall above her, his chin tucking as he drops a few hushed words her way. Kahli tilts her head up to him as he whispers, only the hand opposite him clenching into a fist as his hand drops to rest on her bottom, giving a possessive squeeze to the firm flesh beneath his hand. She gives an almost imperceptible nod, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lower lip as she pushes from the wall, casting a sultry smile over her shoulder to the man and gesturing for him to follow.

Behind the tavern was deserted, seen in a quick glance from the desert woman and bringing a wicked smile to her lips before she turns, grasping the wrist of the Albarian and roughly pushing him against the wall. Her eyes still holding the promise of a time he wouldn't soon forget, she presses her body to him, ignoring his exploring, possessive hands roaming over her. Kahli arches her back, her hands moving up to run through her thick hair and, unseen by the Albarian, sliding a tiny dagger from between her shoulder blades. The heated man's heavy breathing cuts through the rough laughter from inside the tavern, his hands making short work of his own clothing then moving to tug urgently at hers. Kahli leans into him again, tilting her chin up to allow his lips to ravish hers, the hand concealing the tiny blade creeping up his chest as her other slips up to tangle in his hair. The desert woman's lips curl into a wicked smile against his then, her hand tightening in his hair and yanking his head back, the steel in her other hand flashing forward and slitting his pale throat, the crimson blood gushing out as she takes a step back from him. Her hand moves to slide over his mouth, muffling any groans or strangled cries coming from his stained lips as his knees buckle and he slumps to the ground. The desert woman straightens, casting a quick glance around as she kneels, wiping her blade clean on the grass before sliding it away. Leaving the naked, bloodstained Albarian where he lays, she slips back around the tavern, once again taking her post against the wall, calmly waiting for Dante.


Marcus lifts his hand, tossing the needle held in his fingers aside into a basket of others like it. He tilts his head, looking over Dante’s arm before giving a firm nod, “One of my best works.” He winks, chuckling lowly, “So what’s this one for? That woman out there?” Dante chuckles, taking a piece of white fabric from the table beside his chair. He drapes it over his left upper arm, gesturing for Marcus to tie it. “Mind your own business, huh?” Marcus shakes his head, his hands quickly moving to tie the band. Dante rises, pulling his leather tunic over his head, glancing to his arm for a moment before he moves to the door. “Good luck to ye, mate…” He moves out of the door, Marcus’s words calling after him, “Be careful when you find that desert woman, Don – she’s dangerous.”
Dante shakes his head at the words, muttering something as he moves out of the tavern, giving a short nod to the bar keep before swinging the door open. His gaze moves around before landing on the woman, a brow raising as he moves towards her, his shoulder slumping against the wall. “You haven’t been here the whole time have you?”


Kahli's head turns towards him at his words, a lopsided grin playing over her lips, "Sure, standing here like a good little girl." A smear of bright red blood covers the thumb of one hand, unnoticed by the woman, and she lifts the hand to rake back through her hair, pressing forward from the wall. She cocks a hip to the side, her dark eyes traveling over him before settling onto his face, her hand dropping to her hip as she moves her gaze from him to the street. The streets bustle with early morning activity around them, and the desert woman leans in closer, dropping her voice without waiting for a reply, "Let's get out of here, aye?"

Dante grins slowly as he pushes himself off the wall, his hand moving to trail around her waist, pulling her towards him as he moves in the direction of the stables wordlessly. They walk through the streets, weaving through groups of ordinary folk, their minds busied with easier matters. He calls out for the stable boy as they reach the stable doors, tossing the kid a few coins before he reaches out for the reins of two horses, looking almost fondly to the gelding. The animal looks back at him with untrusting eyes, shifting uneasily as he takes the reins, but following obediently out of some fear. He looks into his bag as he hesitates, calling again for the stable boy, “Know where I can find a map of the coast, lad?” The boy looked around, his gaze falling on a piece of parchment pinned to the stable wall hesitantly, as though he wished not to mention it. Dante smiled, quickly following his gaze without question. He moved over to the wall wordlessly, reaching into his bag to produce a dagger, his arm raising to slash at the corners of the parchment to let it fall down to be caught by his hand. The stable boy opened his mouth to give protest, but looked to the man, thinking better of his actions. “Thanks, lad.” He winked, tossing another coin in the boy’s direction before walking out of the stables, towards the edge of town. He looked down to the woman at his side with a faint grin, “Alright, lass…To Salkamar..”

The reins of the black mare felt smooth in her hands as Kahli flips them over the mare's head, vaulting easily onto her smooth back. The desert woman shifts her seat upon the creature, gripping firmly with her legs and wrapping her fingers around the reins. With a clucking of her tongue and a gentle squeeze of her legs, Kahli moves the mare out into an easy trot, glancing over her shoulder to Dante as he clambers aboard the sturdy grey gelding and follows suit. She gives a slow grin, digging in her heels and letting out a wild yell as the mare bursts into a breathtaking gallop, her mane streaming back and enveloping the small, bronzed woman seated lightly on her back. Kahli lets the mare run for a moment, leaving the grey as though he stands still, before sitting up on the mare and pulling firmly on the reins, letting the mare settle into her easy, ground eating canter. The grey snorts and blows as they catch up to the pair, an almost peaceful look on Kahli's face as she flashes a toothy grin to Dante then settles her eyes forward. The sun continues its slow journey overhead as they move along, the hooves of the horses echoing in the air as they make their way towards Salkamar.
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Ayla
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Post by Ayla »

Snap... Crash

Her eyes narrowed sharply at the sound of a large limb breaking off overhead, only to shatter through an array of smaller twigs and branches before smashing into the ground. It was the fourth time it had happened in the week they had trudged through the light forest that covered the ground between Koldamar and Falmarha. They had gone rather far inland, avoiding roads at all costs as they walked mile after mile. Inland meant forests and trees, hindrances to a clear and quick break. Inland meant foreign grounds. Drawing closer, ever closer to the very place she did not want to be. Salkamar itself was too close to Albar for comfort. Her mind sifted over these thoughts almost frantically as she strode along beside the young colt she was tied to, ignorant to the dried blood along her wrists from the raw chafing of the too-tight ropes about her wrists.

Kaelyn's eyes moved around the area in a haze, lost deep in thought. In an hour, the sun would be below the horizon. She gave it fifteen minutes before the mass of a man on the sorrel gelding ahead drew the small group to a stop for the night. He seemed to dread traveling in the dark, what with his latest prize moving so silently through the entire traveling. The woman blinked once as she came back to her surroundings, dropping her attention down to the rope wound about the strange horn of the colt's laden saddle. Her tongue ran slowly over her bottom lip as she tilted her head, casually staring to the rope as she shifted it slightly along a catch in the leather. A few more tiny fibers snagged and tore loose, causing a thin smirk to settle on her lips. She had worked tirelessly at the little tear in the rope for the past week, the entire reason for the raw chafing and bleeding along her wrists. The large man had failed to notice, paying her absolutely no heed apart from the occasional chiding and pinching, which she blatantly tossed aside.

The large gelding ahead suddenly snorted, his head shaking down and sending his mane scattering before the man jerked roughly against the reins. The gelding's head snapped up, buckling back a step as he drew to a stop. The young colt at her side crowhopped mildly, jerking her along with him in a manner that caused a soft curse to slip past her lips. It was always the same jarring stop, one that caused her teeth to grit. She could still feel the bruises over her left foot from where the clumsy colt had trod on it a few days back. This time, her shoulders simply got tugged as the colt rocked aside and dropped his head quickly. A creak of leather broke through the snorting of the two beasts as the large man dragged his right leg over and clambered down to the ground. Without hesitation, the young boy with a collar that matched the one around her throat strode forward, a large roll of material cradled in his thin arms. Kaelyn swayed with the nervous shifting of the colt, watching silently as the boy went about what had become habit for the traveling trio.

The boy hurried about as the fat man turned to the saddle pack slung across the gelding's hindquarters. He drew out a thick bottle of vivid orange liquid, lazily watching as the boy set up some sort of crude tent, ducking underneath the material to straighten out a bedroll. The shadows around them had begun to grow long as the sun slid down to the western horizon. It took about ten minutes for the boy to set the one-person campsite up, his movements practiced and agile as he worked under the beady black glare of the nobleman. Kaelyn's own eyes locked on the fat man, watching as he lifted the bottle to his lips for a hearty gulp. Her hands twisted back and forth slowly against the horn of the saddle, each motion tearing a few more tiny fibers, a few at a time. She narrowed her eyes mildly against the burning and stinging sensation around her wrists, ignorant of the slick wet sensation of blood beading along the rope. No, instead her attention remained on the fat man, watching as he grunted and meandered toward the pitched tent and heavily fell down into the bedroll.

- - - - - -

Six hours might have passed. Seven hours even, she wasn't particularly certain. Her wrists and hands had become numb by now as she leaned heavily against the colt at her side, her breathing timed with the beast's. Her head was slumped forward, leaned against the cool leather beneath her right arm as she gritted her teeth roughly to keep herself silent. The skin along her wrists was tearing more and more, just as the fibers she had worked endlessly since the large man had settled down. His snoring, loud and raucus was all that broke the silence apart from the occasional snorted breath of the two horses. It had an annoying but monotonous affect on her, lulling her into an indescribable and relaxed state as she worked her wrists around the rough edge of the strange horn despite the pain that caused her fingers to tremble. It was beginning to feel hopeless though, her wrists becoming too raw to bear the pain. Not to mention that the blood had traveled down her arm by now, an all-too-vivid sign to the man should he wake up and merely look at her tomorrow. A sign of her attempt, a sign to change the rope and start the process all over on raw skin.

Snap.

A gasp suddenly broke past Kaelyn's lips as fresh air hit the bleeding and raw skin of her wrists. Her head snapped up, tears brimming against her eyes as she shakily stared to the rope that had suddenly snapped free as the last of the fibers gave to the rough catch. Stained crimson all the way around, the rope slid away to leave her wrists independent of one another. Blinking quickly against the pain and tears, Kaelyn hurriedly flashed a look around her. The man was still asleep in his tent and the boy was curled up beside it underneath a thin blanket. Resisting the sudden longing to let her knees buckle, Kaelyn slowly lifted her aching wrists up from around the saddle horn. Her hands shook violently as she stared to them, vague surprise on her shadowed face.

Gently, she rolled each wrist experimentally. They were stiff, painful from being held so long in one position. But they worked, even if it hurt enough to cause her stomach to roll. She continued blinking quickly, her mind scattered for a moment as her face twisted in conflict. Then slowly rationality began to return to her as she dropped her hands to her side and turned her attention to the laden bags along the young colt's back. Her lips pursed before she extended out one hand to the colt's shoulder, speaking softly as her hand slid up and along the bags searchingly. The colt rolled his eyes back, gazing along his side to her warily as she shifted back away from his shoulder.

Her fingers trailed tentatively along the various parcels and bags, every now and then shifting in a way that caused her to wince in pain. She was about to shift and step to the colt's other side when she froze, her brows snapping up. Sudden victory burned in her dark eyes then as her fingers tenderly curled around cold metal, drawing out a lavishly jewel-encrusted sheath. Biting down on her bottom lip, she gently brought the sheath down and curled her hand about the dagger's hilt. With a soft scrape, it slid out of the scabbard, causing her to hesitate and flash a look over her shoulder to the tent. Undisturbed, the young boy remained asleep at his master's tent. With a grin, she turned back to the blade as she slipped the sheath into the colt's laden bags once more, shifting the dagger around in her grasp.

Then at last she turned on slightly wearly legs, slowly striding forward to the tent. It was as her foot snapped a small twig that the young boy at last stirred, lifting his head and almost startling at the sight of Kaelyn free of her binds. His eyes widened and he was visibly on the verge of screaming when Kaelyn turned her dark eyes on him and flicked the dagger up in warning. Fear washed over his face as he suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth. With a smirk, Kaelyn winked and stepped past him, ducking down through the slit opening of the makeshift tent to the large figure snoring loudly.

Slowly, Kaelyn shifted around the man's large figure. He rolled over onto his back with a rather vile grunt, his cheeks quivering with a snore. With a grimace, Kaelyn froze before she shook her head and stepped up. Slowly, she stepped one leg over to the man's far side, only to ease down and straddle herself across his large belly. He grunted and snorted, stirring against the light weight. Kaelyn tilted her head aside, forcing a grin on her face before she extended her empty hand out slowly to stroke beneath the man's large jowls. As he shifted and blinked his bleary eyes, her grin broadened in a venomous sneer as she bent over him and muttered softly. "Mh, hello there dear master. I have a little message for you. See, you picked the wrong desert vixen for your humble abode, sweetheart. I'm the last woman you will ever... Attempt to tame." She hissed the last words viciously then, causing him to snap to attention. In an instant, the man grunted loudly and shifted up, attempting to lift his massive body up. Moving suddenly to prevent him the chance to escape, Kaelyn's hand with the long dagger flashed up then slammed back down abruptly before her. The loud crack of bone and accompanied strangled yell of the man shattered through the night as the dagger slid down through his chest, with force enough to fracture a rib as it punctured through straight to the brute's heart. His eyes grew wide as he gasped and strangled, blood bubbling up around the blade. As his body tensed and shifted, Kaelyn rose gradually with an expressionless face, only to grin sweetly and lift her hand in a mocking salute before she slid back out of the tent.

Silently, Kaelyn stepped away from the tent and past the young boy, who sat in quiet horror beside the tent as sounds of his owner dying echoed in her quake. She stepped up to the large sorrel gelding, who skittered around her nervously after having been spooked by the yell from the tent. With a grin, she reached forward to the similar strange horn at his saddle, flinging the rope wrapped around it away. The young colt behind the gelding shifted as his tether was loosened as well, stepping back quickly with a snort as the rop slung down to the ground. Ignoring the pain still burning around her wrists, Kaelyn slung herself up atop the nervous gelding and reined him around to face the young boy by the tent. She backed the gelding up a few steps as he paced nervously beneath her, his ears flicking back then forth again. "If I were you, boy, I'd catch that colt before he gets too far and continue on to Salkamar. That collar? Get rid of it. You're free now, dear."

Then Kaelyn turned her eyes around the surroundings, ignorant of her own collar as she grimaced at the trees all around them. She growled softly then jerked to the left on the gelding's reins. With a short shout, her heels dug into the beast's sides, angling him through the trees at a careful canter, letting him weave as he chose through the trees. Her teeth gritted as she curled her stiff fingers around the leather of the reins, keeping her hands awkwardly back from the gelding's neck. The lash of the course mane stung her wrists, causing her to ride at a much less streamlined manner than she would have. Silently, she cursed her luck as she kicked the gelding on.

- - - - - -

It had to be well past mid day. It had been another endless number of hours weaving in and out of the trees. She had slowed the gelding to a walk after about an hour's race through the darkness, letting him go as he will as she slumped along his smooth back and closed her eyes. For hours now, she had wavered between sleep and awareness, shifting occasionally with the turn of the gelding here and there. Her hands had wound through his ruddy brown mane, keeping herself secure on his back as she dozed. Now, as the sun burned against her shoulders with the renewed heat of spring, she yawned and pressed herself up from the beast's neck. The yawn was followed by a soft sigh as she gathered the reins up and drew the gelding to a stop. They had come to the crest of a hill, bare of trees for once and allowing her a view of the surrounding miles of land. It was as she lounged against the beast's back that her eyes narrowed mildly to the stretch of land off to her right. Sunlight glinted off of something reflective miles off, something that seemed to be moving.

With a blink, Kaelyn stared to the reflective light for a long minute, confusion shadowing her face. It was only after that moment's pause that her heart suddenly stalled, only to pick up double time as a cold chill snaked down her spine in blatant realization. Salkamar's Knights. They were headed right in the direction of the tent that now held the fourth lifeless body she had left in her wake. With a grimace, Kaelyn straightened and gathered up the reins tightly in her hands, wincing for the countless time as she bent over the gelding's withers and once more dug her heels into his flanks, startling him out of his casual meandering as he suddenly shook his head and drove forward into a full out gallop.

She was driving the gelding sharply down a road that they had burst onto, her weight rocking to the left as he snorted and took a turn in the road that her eyes caught a second sight she had not noticed before. The gelding continued stretching out in a flat gallop as Kaelyn's dark eyes locked on two figures moving almost just as quickly down the road. Abruptly, the woman straightened and snapped her shoulders back, her heels rocking forward as she jerked back on the reins with force. The gelding, suddenly blocked, swung his head up as his hindquarters rolled beneath him, bringing his hocks down in a sliding stop that stirred dust up around them. The horse recovered quickly as Kaelyn pulled him around in a full circle, causing him to grow nervous as her eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun toward the two figures.

It wasn't until the two horses pounding down the road were almost too close for comfort that recognition again flicked over Kaelyn's face. This time, her eyes widened in a look of confused irritation, sudden uncertainty displaying itself in her actions as she twitched the reins nervously in her hands, causing the gelding to pace excitably beneath her. Then a low growl slid from Kaelyn's throat as she came to a conclusion, wheeling the sorrel gelding back around toward the grey and black beasts moving in sync down the broad road. Another short yell echoed out of her as she urged him into a quick canter, closing the distance off between the three figures.

It was not long before they were within hearing distance. Kaelyn rose partially out of her saddle, her raw wrists down near the sorrel beast's neck as she guided him around to circle around the other two. Livid rage had built up in her with each long stride cleared between them, a rage tangible in her voice as she at last spoke up edgily, her eyes narrowed. "Kahli Ianale, I told you not to follow, damn it! I'm going to kill you, the moment your back is turned, you damned woman!"
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Ayla
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Joined: Sun Dec 24, 2006 6:05 pm
Location: North Carolina

Post by Ayla »

They rode along steadily, making their way across the coast, each day bringing them closer to their goal. Dante looked over the familiar territory, his eyes an icy blue hue, the grin on his lips one of peace as he sat atop the sturdy dapple grey gelding, his form slightly bent over to move with the animal. Each day on the coast seemed to grow warmer; the band at his brow was constantly dampened by sweat, the once grey material now seeming to take on a black tone. After several days of travel they veered from their course, moving into denser woodlands, the mountains ahead looming closer as they rode. On the morning of the seventh day they reached Sevenhill, stopping there only briefly for provisions before mounting the horses again, a mere couple of hours after their arrival. They had no time to spare if what Dante assumed was true.

The hours perched on the mare's strong back wore at Kahli's already thin patience. She followed along silently most of the way, only occasionally dropping a few terse words to the man then apologizing in her own way when they were able to stop for more than a few minutes. Her face a perpetually dusty color now, she longed for a bath and a soft spot of grass. She tugged lightly on the mare's reins as Dante stops, the black pausing in her steps willingly. The desert woman drops the reins and stretches her arms over her head, twisting her torso to relieve the kinks in her back before turning her eyes to Dante, again picking up the reins of the mare, waiting.

Dante sat, bent over the gelding, studying the parchment that lay on his lap, his right leg bent over the saddle, his elbow resting on his knee. His chest is bare, his skin tanned slightly more, the skin on his neck and back baring a slight pink tint. He still wore the band around his upper arm, tied tight over the muscle. He runs a hand through his hair, seeming deep in thought, his hand dropping to the parchment, a finger tracing along trails through the two mountains which had taken shape before them. He looked up, the woman’s eyes were on him, as though in wait of his decision. His hands moved to roll the parchment, his head dropping in a slow nod as his leg swung over. The horse squirmed as he pulled back on the reins, giving a sharp kick to the gelding’s soft flesh, causing the animal to lurch back for a moment, giving a whinny as it sprung forward, leading their way towards Salkamar.

- - - - - -

His eyes were dark as they scanned the area, moving slowly through the trees, the only sound was that of their horses hooves clip-clopping on the soft ground. He looked above the line of the trees, his brow furrowed in concentration. A faint grin pulled at his lips as he looked to the east, his eye catching the faintest of movements. His grin grew as the movement gave way to a faint stream of leaves and dust, which rolled through the trees. He looked to Kahli, his hand motioning in the direction of the third rider who, though still a good distance away, could be faintly seen moving through the trees. He dug his heels into the weary gelding beneath him, moving through the trees with quick precision.

Kahli's eyes lock onto the figure seated atop the sorrel gelding, her lips twisting into a triumphant grin that she tosses towards Dante as she digs her heels into the mare, urging her into a burst of speed. The faint trail through the trees a blur as they skim along, recognition floods her features and Kahli pulls the black to a skittering stop as she nears the sorrel, her legs dropping forward to keep her balance on the mare's back. The inky mare dances nervously beneath the desert woman as the sorrel circles them, her nostrils flared and her neck arched proudly. The woman's dark eyes glint almost with amusement at her sister's harsh words. "Kahli Ianale, I told you not to follow, damn it! I'm going to kill you, the moment your back is turned, you damned woman!" A gentle hand on the mare's silky neck calms her nervous prancing, the desert woman twisting towards her sister and flashing a toothy grin, "Since when have I obeyed your orders, brat?"

As the sorrel gelding carried her down the slight road that broke through the trees, she had risen completely out of the saddle. Only her knees guided the beast as her face drew down into a livid expression of both anger and absolute annoyance. The gelding slowed to a quick and choppy trot as Kaelyn approached the two, his ears plastered back against his broad head as he siphoned off the anger rolling through his rider. Kaelyn pushed the beast around the mare and grey gelding twice as her eyes flicked once over Dante before locking directly on her younger sister. "Since when have I obeyed your orders, brat?" came the reply to her blatant questioning. Kaelyn barked a sharp laugh in response as she shifted her weight, bringing the sorrel gelding around to the side of the black mare. Then she shifted again, violently swinging the sorrel gelding's hindquarters into the shoulder of the mare as she spoke in a venomous return. "I'll make you gods-damned listen this time, bitch. What the hellsbriar are you two doing?!" The gelding snorted nervously, his head swinging down then back up as his hindquarters again jostled the small mare. Then he lurched forward again as Kaelyn kept her vivid eyes on her sister, urging him back into a nervous pace around the two. Once, her eyes flicked away toward the distant forest, almost nervously before turning back to the two, a brow arrogantly cocked up.

The mare laid her ears back on her head, snaking out her neck with teeth bared at the gelding, her hindquarters jerking into an annoyed crowhop at the jostling. Kahli kept her seat calmly, reaching out a foot to shove into the offending creature, her eyes still locked on her sister as she tilted her head, listening silently to the harsh words before retorting sharply, "Surely you're not so ignorant, Kae. I've come to stop this idiotic, suicidal path you're on. For once in your gods damned life, you're listening to me and doing what I say, even if I have to hogtie you to that horse and drag you back with me." A stubborn lifting of her chin accompanied her words, her nearly black eyes holding a determined desperation on her sisters face. With a quick tug of the reins, she nudges the mare forwards to come alongside the gelding and then tugs her to a halt. Kahli runs a hand back through her hair, a quick irritated sigh blowing past her chapped lips, "Let's go back, Kae. Let it go."

"I'm not letting shit go... Nor am I returning to that Gods-damned place. They're all eventually going to get smart." Kaelyn's words growled softly as she guided the sorrel gelding past the black mare with her knees, her hands resting sorely against the beast's neck. The rawness about her wrists had yet to heal over, blood beading against the red skin as she moved the gelding around. Her brows furrowed sharply in her annoyance as her eyes lingered on her sister blatantly. In the distance, the barely audible clinking of far-off metal clad bodies could be heard, which caused Kaelyn's face to contort even more severely. She fell silent for a moment, never looking away from Kahli as she continued working the gelding around the two others in her nervousness. Then an abrupt growl slid past her lips as she gathered the reins in her hands again and swung the gelding around to the road once more. Before her heels dug into the flanks of the sorrel beast, she spoke sharply over her shoulder to the two. "Listen... I'm not going back... But Gods have mercy, we have to get out of here. I have Salks after me right as we speak and it won't be pretty if they catch up." A pleading look overtook the anger on her face as she glanced to Kahli and Dante once more before a quick shout burst from her lips and she kicked the gelding into a sharp canter down the road.

- - - - - -

She was beginning to regularly lose track of time, after months of traveling the way she had. She couldn't remember how long the trio had been going, stopping only when absolutely necessary. All she knew was that as the sun rose for the countless time before her, salt was in the air. They were close to a harbor. As the smell of the salt stung her nose, Kaelyn slowed the sorrel gelding down to a meandering walk as her chin lifted. A conflicted look had become almost permanent on her features as she led the way mindlessly as far as she could from the borders of Salkamar. It wasn't until the sorrel gelding lurched up a small hill, bringing into sight a small and discreet port stretched along the ocean that Kaelyn drew the horse to a stop. Her shoulders fell slowly as she gave no attention to the black and grey horses coming up at her sides. Silence stretched between her for a long moment before she at last gave a soft and defeated sigh. "You know what... Fine. We'll return... But Gods help you both if I run into.. Him there. Dante... You have any friends here that won't lock me up and throw me to the Albarian dogs...?" She muttered mildly, shifting her eyes warily to the man as one scabbed wrist came up, her fingers sliding along the leather collar at her throat that she had not thought to remove.

He drew the grey dapple gelding around, the reins gripped in one precise hand as he maneuvered the horse forward, stopping before the two women. The grey gelding shifted it’s hooves on the ground, bringing him to an angle. His eyes shifted their gaze, the dark blue orbs taking in their surroundings before looking back to the woman, “Plenty, lass…many men in these parts owe me a thing or two…” He shifted on the back of the gelding, lifting himself slowly off the saddle only to drop back down with a grunt, his feet restless in the stirrups. His voice acquired a gruff quality, a deep chuckle in his throat as he added, “Long as you don’t kill them…”

He shook his head as his eyes moved back to the land, his free hand moving over his sun-baked bare skin, pausing momentarily to tug on the rag around his arm from discomfort, the once white material now brown with sweat and wear. He drew the hand back through his hair, pulling the damp locks from his face, his demeanor returning to that of a serious nature as he looked back to the two. “Well lasses…back to that island, eh?” His gaze turns to the landscape again, his gaze one of longing, his brow creased in momentary doubt – the orbs of his eyes clouded in grey-blue turmoil. “Aye…” He mutters under his breath as his face wheels towards the faint breeze from the sea, breathing in the salty air as a lazy grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, a grunt escaping his throat as his heels dig into the side of the gelding, sending the animal towards the shore.

A dry chuckle slipped from Kaelyn's words as she heard the man's reply. Idly, she shook her head before clicking her tongue and urging the sorrel gelding forward. Only minutes brought the three astride the horses up near the wharfs where various small, unmarked ships sat moored against the docks. In silence, the woman slung her right leg over the back of the sorrel gelding before she dropped to the ground. As she stepped before Dante and Kahli, the gelding's reins in hand, she carelessly handed the black leather over to the first person she saw. The young girl blinked and stared to the horse in open-mouthed surprise as the three figures moved on to the decks. Not long after, a small cargo ship pulled out from the wharfs and set sail to the east, distancing gradually from the shores of the mainlands. Silently standing at the stern of the ship, Kaelyn lifted her chin to the breeze as her fingers played along the leather collar about her neck once more. Her eyes were narrowed in silent thought, lips pursed into a thin line as she stood and watched the shoreline gradually grow smaller. A ripple of cold nerves spiraled down her spine then before she turned away and stepped toward the lower deck in silence. They were headed back to Gobaith, for the third time in her case. It made her beyond a little sick to the stomach.
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