Illarion.org

Awakening to the slight sound of Baileys breathing Farel opened his eyes and looked to the ceiling above, the pain in his chest a constant reminder of why he was here. Who would have thought he a man whose idea of fighting was hurling an empty bottle towards ones enemy and then running would have got himself into such a predicament. Closeing his eyes he could still see the scene,,,

He looked to his three companions and a smile crossed the strangely clad mans lips. Pendar or Pends as he liked to call him, the troubled young man and the captain of this towns guard also his best friend stood furthest from him, the mans finely crafted armour and easy stance showed him to be a bladesman of some experience. Beside Pendar stood another of his companions, a strange man indeed. Berenger, the silent companion of the group and also the most deadly. A man of few words and the patience of a saint, the only clue as to show the man was a warrior of some reknown were the finely crafted blades at his side, and the carm demenour which he held, how Berenger and Farel had become friends is a mystery to most, and admitedly a mystery to Farel himself, but the silent mans company allways brought a smile to the younger mans lips. And by his side the lady Bailey, his fellow guard and the one who he enjoyed to torment the most, Her serious attitude and unwavering bravery were the perfect tool for the young Farel to clutch onto for his ill humoured pranks. But hidden behind the words which the pair shared was friendship well masked, and hidden from most to see, unless observed closely.

And of course there was Farel himself, his smile showing as allways, and his stance unlike the others relaxed and unanxious. The young man wore armour which was ill fitting, his helm tilted to oneside upon his head. Unlike the rest of his comrades the young man wasnt known for his prowess with a blade, or his diplomatic abilities. But more for enjoying a drink, and the company of the fairer sex. Many had asked him why he was a guard, and more importantly how he had got into the guard, his answer was allways the same, a simple shrug and a mischievous smile.

Opening his eyes once more Farel looks to the lady laying beside him, a smiling touching his lips. A dear friend indeed. He would have done the same again..

Flame,, Farel pulled Bailey back from the enraged beast as it blew forth creating an inferno where she once stood...
Panic, villagers fleeing as the gargantuan beast threw back the warriors of the town with ease..
Pendar standing resolute a gigantic axe held between his hands, the blade hammering time and again into the beasts flanks, but each time getting reflected by its scales.
Berenger, the greatsword which marked the man of whom he was fending of the creatures claws...
Bailey, the hope of this fight, a blade of shimmering blue clutched in her hand advancing towards the beast, seeking the right time to impale the dragon with this enchanted blade..
Berenger staggered back as the flame seared the mans armour, and the creatures claws struck out hitting the female guard, and she went sprawling. Hand to her cut flanks the blade falls from her grasp to land upon the ground..
Taking a deep breath Farel threw his axe to the ground and took up the blade, its strangle light glimmering upon his ill fitting helm, and then he was back in the fray, his last thought of when he leaped upon the beasts back..

The pain in his chest flared once more and Farel reached for the bottle beside the bed, just to find he had allready finished the wine. With a sigh he placed the empty bottle back to the ground and looked to Bailey. How did he feel about this lady... He did not know. All he did know is he would do what he had done again.. Life and death meant nothing. But to be alone in either is to be damned.

Jeremy stood outside the Seahorse for the second time in only a few minutes. He cursed himself again for not being there when his friends were in trouble. A few minutes earlier he had paused on this spot, wondering wether to enter the Inn. Knowing friends were badly hurt inside, feeling guilty for not being there to help. He was no fighter and would probably have been killed in the fighting, but that would be preferable to how he felt now.
He turned and headed to the shop, passing the tavern where he had drunk wine and chatted to Bailey the night before. He felt another pang of guilt at the memory. A feeling which was rapidly turning to anger.
He entered the shop, ignoring all who were there. He donned his armour and grabbed his staff. His emotions were in turmoil. Guilt, anger, frustration, all tied together with a feeling of utter uselessness. The familiar weight of his battle staff seemed to act as a focus for his emotions.
He turned and brought the staff down on a table with an almighty crack.
Liles, who had just opened his depot jumped at the sound.
"Something wrong?" he asked as Jeremy headed for the door.
Jeremy just said "no" as he walked out. Explaining would hurt too much and take too long. He headed straight to the ruins and the mummies lair.
The tidal wave of emotions washed over him as he walked, each step intensified his anger, deepened his frustration and boiled over into rage. He charged into the mummies lair. A few hours later he emerged, exhausted and covered head to toe in blood and gore.

After putting it off for a while, Callith returned to keep his promise to work with Bailey, after giving her some food he carried her out to the lake, he examined her back, carfully he pushed some slipped vertibrae back into place.

After some more tests, he finally took her into the water and helped wash herself, before returning her to the inn.

Afterwards Callith went to his own room and sighed.

"I'm sorry Bailey, I did all I could" He whispers to himself, and then thinks about the bath and grins, "Woderful skin though, and perfect everywhere else. Still, I wonder where she got those scars."

Jeremy paused in his work in the Willowbrook Forest. His brow furrowed slightly in a frown. He had found himself thinking of Bailey. This struck him as odd. He barely knew the young guard, only having really spoken to her once. And that on the night before she had been hurt in the fighting with the dragons. Jeremy felt slightly uneasy.
'I hope she is alright', he thought. 'She seems such a nice girl. Far too young to be so sad.'
He remembered their talk and how she had seemed a little happier for the company.
'I hope she is not alone now. I expect the other guards will be driving her crazy. Fussing around her. Still, at least she will know they care about her. Maybe she will remember our talk and that will help her through this. I wonder if Shand could help....'
He went back to work. Trying to finish up as quickly as he could.
'I will look in on her when I get to Trolls Bane. See how she is.'

Turning about on his bed Farel opened his eyes looking to the ceiling above.

Bored, so bored,,

The thoughts ran through the mans mind, and then turned back to Culandria, a smile touching his lips. But then his mind went back to the matter at hand, boredom. Even his game of dodge the druid was getting stale, the task getting easier by the day as he got to learn the healers routines.

The wound upon his chest was healing, no thanks to Farels activities of refusing to stay in the bed set to him, but this diddnt matter. He was healing, and each day he spent within the sea horse brought him closer to good health, day my agonisingly boring day. Pulling the sheets from him Farel sat up with a grimace.

Damn but it still hurt.. What to do,,

Blinking to adjust his eyes Farel made his way down the carpeted stairs to Baileys room.