<font color=cadetblue> Rehan was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He remained silent as Esaha tried to comfort him, only to break down in front of him from her own painful memories. The sight of his blood on her cheeks was too much for him, causing him to lean in and wipe away the blood and tears with his sleeve. He gave her shoulder an awkward pat, unsure of what to say.

Night approached as they made it back to the city. Rehan watched Lord Gerald's daughter with slight amusement as heads quickly turned in the other direction at her glances. She was certainly nothing like any noblewoman he had ever met before which intrigued him. He took note that she still kept her name to herself as they reached the manor, and then was gone after commanding Esaha and himself to be taken care of.

A middle-aged man greeted them with a neutral expression. Rehan noticed the servant paled when he saw the younger man's torn and bloody shirt. <font color=silver> "Thi... This way please."</font> Quickly composing himself, the servant ushered the two down a hallway. <font color=silver>"Here is your room, miss."</font> Opening the door for Esaha, he was about to tell her to go in when he looked at Rehan in horror. <font color=silver>"Sir! Your wounds are bleeding!"</font> Pain flared across Rehan's chest drawing his gaze downward. The slashes were beginning to reopen, and with it a steady steam of warm blood. Damnit... No wonder the Captain doesn't like magic... He started to sway and had to put a hand against the wall for support. <font color=silver>"Hurry sir, I must take you to the infirmary quickly."</font> Gripping Rehan's arm, the servant looked at Esaha and offered an apology for leaving her there as he rushed the younger man down the hallway.

An elderly man sat behind a desk flipping through a stack of papers. He looked up startled as the door burst opened, revealing a panic stricken servant and a wounded young man. <font color=brick> "Hurry! Help him over to that cot over there."</font> Rehan winced as he slowly sat down, the pain and blood loss weakening him. <font color=brick> "What happened to you boy?"</font> Keeping the remains of his shirt pressed against wounds, he watched the old man make his way to a cabinet which he began to rummage through. "A large black bear." The older man chuckled softly as he laid his equipment down on a small wooden table. <font color=brick> "That must have been one angry bear. Here, bite down on this."</font> Rehan looked at the small piece of wood. Cloth was wrapped around it, and he didn't want to entertain the thought of why he would need it.

Grabbing a white cloth, the healer started to saturate it with the liquid from a small bottle. <font color=brick> "This is going to burn, so I suggest you make good use of that wood."</font> Rehan's teeth sunk into it as he grimaced at the pain. <font color=brick> "You should be thankful of whoever used that spell on you. If they hadn't you would have died from blood loss before making it back here."</font> He continued to dab the cloth against the wounds until he was satisfied with the sterilizing. <font color=brick> "Keep biting on that, I need to stitch up your wounds and I'm afraid this is going to hurt more than the alcohol."</font> Rehan eyed the needle and thread warily, gripping onto the edge of the cot.

By the time the healer had finished, Rehan was very pale and had almost split the wooden piece inside his mouth into two. <font color=brick> "There now, that wasn't so bad was it?"</font> The young man glared at the healer, receiving another chuckle in return. <font color=brick> "You'll sleep here tonight, and try not to move too much. Those wounds need to seal up properly and I don't want the bandages falling off.</font> The soldier wondered how he was supposed to sleep like this, but in spite of himself soon started to doze off, worn out from all that had happened.</font>

[ 07-25-2006, 11:16 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=limegreen>The servant had left hurriedly, not explaining anything about how things happened in the house. Unsure of what she was supposed to do, Esaha cautiously stepped inside the room which had been said to be hers.

Esaha hadn't seen such a richly furnished room since she was four years old and her mother had taken her to a dinner organised by a rich friend of her father's. Like always, her father had been absorbed by his experiments and had not gone along.

It had all changed the day her mother had fallen ill. It was the day which had changed her father. He had spent each day with his wife until she peacefully passed away, and afterwards devoted his life to his daughter.

Esaha lied down on the soft bed, grief threatening to overwhelm her yet again. As the exhaustion of the last few days finally caught up with her, the tears came again, and despite the early hour, Esaha softly cried herself to sleep.</font>

<font color=cadetblue> Rehan woke up groggily, forgetting for a moment where he was. Sitting up gingerly, he looked around the room to see he was alone, and that it was early in the morning. Everyone must be asleep still. Swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, he stared at the floor for several minutes, his breathing labored from the sharp pain. After a while he felt well enough to stand up and noticed a simple white shirt folded on the table next to him. Assuming it was meant for him, he slowly put it on, careful to not disturb the bandages wrapped around him. Rehan knew it was better for him to stay in bed, but he was fully awake now and had no intention of staying cooped up.

Leaving the infirmary, he tried to remember where the bedrooms were located. He was concerned about Esaha. She had saved him, and he could vividly remember his blood across her cheeks as she tried to wipe away her tears.

The manor was quiet except for an occasional servant passing him by. Rehan had to stop one of them to ask about the guest bedrooms, and was directed down another hallway. He stood of in front of Easha's door a few minutes later. I wonder if I should wake her so early? She's probably sleeping and I'm sure she needs the rest. Unsure of what to do, he continued to stand there debating on a course of action. Giving into his concern, Rehan knocked on her door.</font>

[ 07-25-2006, 11:15 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=limegreen>Luckily for Esaha, her sleep was without dreams, for in her current state, dreams would have more likely been nightmares. When the knocking on the door woke her up, for a moment she was still under the impression that she was waking up after a short nap inside the cabin in the forest and the knocking was her father chopping wood, but as she slowly woke up harsh reality intruded.

Esaha tried smoothing the creases in her shirt, as she made her way to the door in the lowly lit room. Some of the dawn sunlight was filtering through the thick curtains, but it wasn't enough to light the room to more than the semi-darkness it was in.

She gently opened the door, peering out into the brightly lit corridor, her still sleepy eyes blinking in the sudden light. Once she recognised the figure standing outside she asked in a somewhat sleepy voice, "How's your chest?"</font>

<font color=cadetblue> He felt bad when he saw that he did indeed wake her up. "I'm doing ok now. Their healer stitched me up last night." He looked somewhat embarrassed at mentioning his injuries. No one had ever cared enough to ask before.

"Sorry for waking you. I wanted to check on you since I was rushed off last night." Rehan needed to do something with his hands, and he opted to clasp them behind his back, causing him to wince at the small strain.</font>

<font color=limegreen>"I actually fell asleep quite fast after that." Esaha left out the part of her crying herself to sleep. She didn't want to give the impression of being someone who cried all the time. And I'm not! It's just father's passing which has put me into this state.

"I guess if I find something to keep my mind from thinking too much about my father then I should be all right." She forced a small smile, which she hoped didn't look too fake.

"I know we didn't really have the time to get properly acquainted and besides your name I don't really know much about you, so if you like we could have a short walk and talk at the same time, I noticed some nice gardens while looking out of my window last night."</font>

<font color=cadetblue> Rehan nodded in agreement as the pair made their way down the corridor. "I'm from a mercenary company a good distance away from here. The Captain would be furious if he knew what I had been up to on this mission so far." He grinned a little at the thought, and then further explained at her questioning glance. "As you're probably aware of now, the forest is filled with beasts that kill on command of their mistress. Lord Gerald asked me to help rid them of their problem, but as you can see I have yet to complete that." Unknown to the young man was that her father was linked to the forest, and his attempts to keep her mind away from her father thus failed miserably.

He fell silent as they made their way outside into the gardens. The sky was painted in shades of orange and red, casting a soft glow onto everything it touched. They walked past a small pool of water, which appeared to contain liquid bronze from the morning reflection. He stopped then to look at her. The gentle sunlight brought out small highlights in her dark hair, and the soft morning glow appeared to warm her face, yet she now looked troubled. "I apologize if I said anything that upset you." Various possibilities made themselves present as Rehan thought on what he had said wrong.</font>

<font color=limegreen>"I think I owe you an explanation, Rehan." Esaha sat down on a bench next to the fountain.

"My father, in his glory days was a mage reknowned for his expertise in crafting enchanted items. He spent most of his time holed up in his laboratory, leaving it rarely even to eat. But when my mother fell ill and subsequently died, it change him. He abandoned his experiments and spent as much time as he could with her, until her last breath. I myself do not remember much of my mother, for I was but four years old when she left us."

"After my mother died, my father devoted most of his attention to my upbringing, but some long standing problems caught up to him, and when I was eight years old, we had to leave the family home. A few months later, just as I reached my ninth birthday, we settled down in a small cabin in the middle of the forest you just mentioned. At that time the mistress of the woods was not so unwelcoming to outsiders, and after my father saved one of her beasts, allowed us to stay in the forest until the end of my father's days."

She paused, the memories threatening to well up again, but she managed to push them back.

"My father, sensing his end last morning, performed one last bit of magic and with that sensed you in the forest. Given the changes in the behaviour of the mistress in the years since we settled down, he thought it best that I leave the forest, and sent me to find you, thinking that you were my best chance at getting out alive."

She didn't voice the thought she just had that the irony of the situation was that in the end it was her who saved Rehan, and not the other way round.

"So that, in a nutshell is how you found me where you did."

She glanced at Rehan, wondering what he thought about her, now that he knew much more.</font>

<font color=silver>So... they reside in the safety of this foolish lord. The thought snatched a smile from her curled lips as she turned around and cast a disdainful look at the fatigued warrior sprawled upon the ground.

<font color=springgreen>"Your offspring has returned home."</font> If pity welled in her heart for him, it was completely absent in the tone of her voice. <font color=springgreen>"So has your so-called champion..."</font> Halting, she smirked as he weakly lifted his head, helplessness evident in his wretched eyes. <font color=springgreen>"It seems that age has not taught you wisdom."</font>

She was so wrong. He gritted his teeth, wincing slightly as the wounds born from the numerous attacks a couple of hours ago continued to sting him, as did her taunts. He had stayed away all this while, for this single reason - he knew her power, knew that it was unnecessary folly to venture into her territory. But for Robyn, he would never have stepped into this forest.

Robyn was safe. The thought gave him feeble hope, however. She was safe, for the moment. There was no guarantee that his precious daughter would remain unharmed, as long this menacing creature - for he could not tell from her motions whether she was fully human - survived.

<font color=beige>"What... do you want?"</font> The words came out in a croak, from his parched throat and trembling heart. How could he save her and his wife from senseless murder?

<font color=springgreen>"You have sent enough pests to hound and waylay all that live in this forest, for long enough."</font> The guttural tone was grating on his nerves. <font color=springgreen>"As you value that chit of a girl of yours, I treasure this realm and my friends who dwell in it."</font> She bent down so that their eyes met at a level stare. <font color=springgreen>"It is only fair that she suffers the extent of humiliation and torment that we have had to endure, with your interference."</font>

He shuddered, remembering the occasions she alluded to. True, a number of the mercenaries he had hired to assasinate this terror had been slain in their attempts to take her life. But several of the beasts had been slaughtered in return and if one matched life for life... he could not bear to think further. Almost grovelling, he prostrated before her. <font color=beige>"Please... anything but my family. They... they know nothing of this."</font>

What pathetic lies men could tell, when they cared for their loved ones. She felt a shaft plunge into her guts as she witnessed this display of concern. <font color=springgreen>"It cannot be done..."</font> It was a compensation, watching his dismay. <font color=springgreen>"... except..."</font>

<font color=beige>"Except what?"</font> He cried, tears openly welling in his eyes. <font color=beige>"I beg you... please, have a heart! I pray!"</font>

Beg? Pray? Such concepts had been alien to her since that fateful day, and the wave of anger that plummeted hard against her back nearly choked her. <font color=springgreen>"I have no heart."</font> The ice in her voice countered the heat gathering within her breast.<font color=springgreen>"It died many decades ago."</font>

Be that as it may, another thought struck her as she took in his wild-eyed pleas. I wonder how much he will take, to save her puny life... Yes, it would be interesting. Better still, he had to be taught a lesson in humility, and death was... too good for him.

Crossing over to Tatyana, she whispered into her ears: <font color=springgreen>"Cripple him."</font> Then, seating herself upon the bench, she watched the torture scene before, a look of detachment on her wrinkled face...</font>

<font color=peru>The hours of this night crept mercilessly as she struggled to stay awake, her eyelids almost blotting out the sight of her mother's restless sleep. Oh, Father... please come back safe. It wrenched her heart even at this exhausted state that somewhere out there, out in the forest, he was risking his life trying to rescue her. Returning her attention to her mother, she could only emit a regretful sigh, her tear-stained cheeks already dry from the passing of these agonising hours.

Had it not been for her mother's hysterical pleas, she would have flown to find her hero, her beloved father whom she had taken for granted all these years. This hero was now in real danger of being mauled to death by the hostile beings that roamed the forest so ferociously, and the memory of Rehan's injuries could only add fuel to the burning shame that swept across her body. Please Father... hear me, hear my prayer. I am safe... come back... She continued to clasp her fingers fervently, her head bowed even as it occasionally threatened to nod into slumberland.

<font color=orchid>"My lady."</font> It was a hushed whisper, but it rang clearly against her eardrums and she glanced up to catch the steward's ashen face. <font color=orchid>"His Lordship is back..."</font> But his faltering voice gave no comfort, and the hue of his face was ugly to behold. Where? She mouthed the words, motioning that on no accounts was her mother to be awakened. In return, he gestured for her to come towards the opened door and follow him quickly to where Lord Gerald now lay...

As she brisk-walked along the corridors, she hissed her instructions that the two guests for the night should not be drawn into this family affair on any account. This was almost all that she could do when both head and heart were pounding desperately, and when the delay in seeing him only added to her grievance.

It was then that she heard his muffled groans and knowing how he usually laughed off his injuries, she could guess at the severity of his wounds. Another swing round the corner and she was into the room, her dear father was back at last! He was...

Gasping, she half-swooned at the grotesque sight before her and had to be held for support. Where was the paragon of virtue and masculinity? Where were the chiselled features that had so distinguished him from the other Lords and whom even her suitors were no match against? Where was the pillar of strength that all had come to depend upon?

Biting her lips, she could barely stifle the shrieks that hammered against her blood-stained teeth. She closed her eyes, but the damage had been done; this picture of her father was forever imprinted in her memory, and the knowledge that she was responsible for his plight tore her insides out. Crumbling to her feet, she clenched her fists; she fought against the battering screams; she felt the guilt-laden blades driving themselves into her heart till it seemed as if the blood she tasted was due to this injury solely. Blinded by tears, she brushed them away with the back of her fists, refusing to face him until she was in a better state to do so.

But he must not know... must not know her grief. He loved her too much, and her sorrow would deteriorate his health. He had to recover quickly, with happy spirits. How could he do so, without seeing the horror and misery of his wife and daughter?

In those minutes that ticked by, Robyn experienced a different sensation from any that she had ever undergone since her childhood. It was a volatile cocktail of weariness, self-directed fury, compassion, worry, remorse, helplessness and the desire to be useful. As she knelt on the floor momentarily, realisation hit her.

She had finally grown up.

And growing up meant taking constructive steps to remedy the situation, rather than moping over past blunders and waiting for others to clean up the messes she had created.

Hurriedly then, she got up, wiped her eyes again and issued her firm orders for his lordship to be cared for by the best physicians in this western wing of the castle, where nobody had lived for the past two generations. And if her mother ever asked about her husband, she was to be told that he had returned safely home but had immediately taken off thereafter to settle an urgent business.

When these instructions had finally been dealt with and were out of the way, she walked over to the ruins of the man before her, willing herself to smile.

<font color=salmon>"Welcome back, Father."</font> Was her attempt at a sheepish grin successful? It would be a miracle, when she could taste salt and moisture. <font color=salmon>"We're both safe at last."</font> Behind the bandages, she thought she could see a slight nod of his neck. <font color=salmon>"You're be well in no time, Father. You'll see."</font> Sniffing, she continued hurriedly. <font color=salmon>"Now all you need to do is lie down and rest. Don't move, and don't talk."</font> Another nod, which brought another stubborn tear running down her cheek. <font color=salmon>"Let me serve you for once, Father."</font>

Then, as if both of them had reached the limits of endurance, they closed their eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep, Robyn's golden hair spraying against Lord Gerald's heaving chest.</font>

OOC>>>Sorry for my delay. I have had too many things to do these days with in-laws living in the house and last night I was sick from some leftovers I had for lunch. Mistral, I like what you've done with Lord Gerald...it was better drama than I could have come up with, and I had my ideas...but I like yours better. If I can manage it, I'll get Raymond active here. If you still want me to, I'll play Gerald too.

<font color=cadetblue> Rehan sat next to her as he mulled over what she had told him. The mistress would probably have a death wish for Esaha now as well after she saved him. "I'm grateful your father sent you to find me. I can only imagine what it is the mistress would have to done to me, and to you as well if you were caught alone."

"I know what it feels like to lose your parents. I used to live on a farm when I was younger. My mother died a long time ago, and my father probably 5 years ago now from a fire." He placed his hand on her forearm and tried to comfort her for the loss of her father. The two sat like that for a while, watching the sun finish its crawl into the sky and the burst of energy in the garden come alive. Rehan stood up then wincing from his wounds. Extending his hand to her, he offered to help her off the bench. "We should go back inside." A small grin started to play across his features. "That healer will probably have my head for getting out of bed without his permission."</font>

[ 07-25-2006, 11:14 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

OOC: Sorry to hear that you've been tied up, Larry. I was struggling to keep the timing on both sides in sync, so I decided to post ahead... thanks for being so accepting about my proposal [img]smile.gif[/img]

And yes, now that he's safely away, you can just give the occasional post about him. Raymond can come in anytime, too. I've missed reading your posts here ;)

<font color=darkkhaki>"You're 30 coins short Markam." Cold blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. A middle aged man fidgeted with his hands as he started to crack under the merciless gaze. <font color=silver>"I'll get the rest to you after you finish the job. I swear, Altair!"</font> The man was shoved up against a wall with a knife at his throat. A small bead of blood began to form as the metal bit into skin. "You better, or else I'd hate to see what would happen to your precious wife." Slumping down the wall, the man watched the hired thief walk away.

Altair Swizec was an enigma. He was born into a noble family located in the far east, and had a bright future set before him. The young man was his father's only heir, granting him a wealthy inheritance, and marriage into the influential Jasper family. At the young age of 12, Altair ran away from home. The politics of nobility and lack of control he had in his own life drove him away from all that he knew.

Growing up on the streets of various cities proved to be a hard life, but he was free. Free to make his own choices, free to do whatever he wanted, and free to construct his own path. Thievery entered his life as a way to feed himself at first, but soon turned into a profession. Through determination and trial, the young boy managed to become an apprentice to a local legend. Berad was a master thief, and very rarely would botch a job. Altair would often be beaten due to not meeting up to Berad's outrageous expectations. The lad learned quickly though, and through the years proved to be exceptional at thievery.

Berad never returned home one night. Altair usually never kept track, but it had been days and word around the city was that old Berad had finally been caught. Keeping to the shadows, the young man made his way to where the gallows were located. Sure enough, Berad stood there with a noose already around his neck. Common sense was lost at the thought of losing his mentor, and Altair started to shove his way through the crowd. Too many people stood in his way and not enough time. The floor was dropped out beneath Berad, and the old man kept his eyes locked on Altair until the rope strangled the life out him. Guards had been called for the disruption, leaving Altair with the only option to run.

Emotions threatened to overwhelm the young man as he dodged his way through market stalls and citizens, feeling the burning anger build up inside of him. Berad was the only thing he had for family, and was practically a father to him. Emotions make you weak. They tear down your defenses and leave you vulnerable. The second you hesitate because of it is when you lose. His mentor's words rang through out his mind, forcing the young man to lock his feelings away as he escaped the city.

Several years had passed by, and now he stood at the city of Alesbridge. A disgruntled citizen had just hired him to break into Lord Gerald's manor for an artifact. Apparently the Lord had many artifacts from his adventuring days, and Altair thought of the possibilities of pocketing a few during his job. Restrained chaos gripped the city of Alesbridge, which worked in his favor. He could care less about some dumb monster off in the woods, but the aftereffects of it aided his plan. Turning to make sure Markam had left, the young man silently made his way to the manor.

It was early morning and he doubted very few people would be awake at this hour. Finding a decently concealed area, he made himself comfortable and got ready to wait the day out. He would take note of any guards, when they traded shifts, and other small facts of interest. Supposedly Lord Gerald was suffering from an injury as well, which added even more to the chaos. Altair knew this would be a simple task to complete. As if in disagreement, a chill breeze made its way across the city, gently blowing the thief's tied back black hair.</font>

[ 07-27-2006, 02:19 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=limegreen>Esaha took the offered hand, and taking care not to put too much weight on it, gently stood up.

"You seem to be in much better shape to me than yesterday. I shouldn't think the healer would be too angered. Besides the fresh air and nice weather can only speed your recovery."

Such beautiful sunrises had been a rarity in the forest, and she savoured the moment for a few more seconds before following Rehan back inside.

"Have you got any plans for today?" she asked once inside the ground level hall.</font>

<font color=cadetblue> Rehan nodded as he lead the way back to where the infirmary was located. "After I check in with the healer I was planning to go to the library." The soldier hoped he would be able to find any information on the surrounding forest. He knew why people were being killed, but he wanted to know what started all of it. Why was there a mysterious old woman in the heart of this forest, and how did she command such an army of exotic animals? Rehan was hoping any information he could find in the ancient tomes would shed some light.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> The thief watched with interest as two young figures entered the manor. They both appeared to be only a few years younger than him, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Altair knew who the blond haired man was. I see Gerald has enlisted the help of Rehan. A smirk crept its way onto his face. "This will be even more fun than I thought." he whispered at the joy of robbing a place right under Rehan's nose. Altair never thought highly of hero's, much less ones younger than himself.</font>

<font color=peru>Very likely, it was her youth that helped Robyn face the next morning with some semblance of purpose and hope despite the heavy heart she carried as she climbed out of bed.

What had seemed settled the previous night now paled in comparison with the many other tasks that had to be implemented. First, there was a question of addressing public fear over the latest wrath of the forest. Second, how she would have to break the news to her mother eventually, for the truth could not be withheld for too long. Then there was the matter of dealing with Rehan and Esaha; they must keep the matter to themselves at all costs. Running the entire household in the event that her mother collapsed from grief was another matter she could not overlook. And the city's safety, not to mention this castle's defences against both foreign and internal invaders... this mental checklist was a painful reminder of all the issues that her father had had to grapple with, in his prime.

It was now left to her, Robyn of Mehlingard, to steer this burdened fleet through the crisis that surrounded her life and city. Now was the time to prove her claims of being a worthy member of the clan.

Her green eyes brightened by exertion, she hurriedly made her way out of the bedroom, remembering to lock it securely after herself.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> Several hours had passed. Several uneventful hours... Altair thought sourly. The thief wasn't sure what he was hoping for. Maybe a distressed guard, or some sense of panic overtaking their defenses. This wasn't the case though to his dismay. What is keeping things from unraveling? From his contacts, he knew of Gerald, who was currently wounded, his wife who Altair seriously doubted was holding up well, and then his young daughter. He contemplated the possible ransom money he could get from kidnapping her.

Stretching, he left his perch and went in search of food. Avoiding the main taverns, he went down alleyways that lead to a small building. Smoke hung heavily in the room and conversations were held in harsh whispers. Suspicious stares took in the young man as he made his way to the bar counter. "I need ale and whatever food you're serving today." The large bald bartender grunted in response as he lazily prepared the meal.

Altair sat with his shoulders hunched as he began to write on parchment. He wrote in detail what his surveying had gained so far, which was pathetically small. Drumming his fingers on the counter, he started to formulate a plan on how to break in. Before long a sketch on the manor had been constructed with possible entries and exits. His thoughts were disrupted as the bartender roughly sat the stew and ale next to him. Folding the parchment away, he smiled to himself, pleased with his plan that he would execute tonight. The bartender eyed the thief warily, noticing the cold smile.</font>

<font color=thistle><font color=powderblue>"Hear ye! Hear ye!"</font> Clear and loud was the call of the Captain of the Guards as he gazed upon the gathering below the tower. Worried faces they wore, half wondering whether they were happy to answer the sharp bugle bursts that had interrupted the humdrum of city life that morning. Mothers held their children's hands tightly, eager lads looked up with shining eyes, cryptic merchants "harrumphed" amongst themselves, old men shook their heads and sighed, young maidens darted daring glances at eligible young men... it seemed as if all of Alesbridge had turned up to hear Lord Mehlingard's orders.

They were to be sorely disappointed.

<font color=powderblue>"His Lordship has urgent matters to attend, and has left the rule of Alesbridge to Lady Robyn."</font> Almost immediately, the buzz below erupted, but for the Captain's stentorian voice which scattered it, that he might continue with his speech. <font color=powderblue>"Her Ladyship will now address you."</font>

Quick as lightning, he stepped aside and Robyn forward, disallowing the noise to regroup. <font color=white>"My dear friends of Alesbridge, I bid you good morning."</font> At this, a few cheers rang out, particularly from a few enamoured lads. <font color=white>"My father has kept our city safe all these years, and I trust that you will not forget that in a hurry."</font> Stern was her voice, but not threatening; she knew that a slow, measured tone would add years of maturity to her appearance, which she had already taken pains to address. <font color=white>"As you all know, Rehan arrived two evenings ago to help us fight our enemy in the forest."</font> The cheers grew as the crowd warmed up to this lady who had to bear her father's burden. <font color=white>"Rehan and I were in the forest yesterday, and surveyed the territory that our enemy roams about. We have both returned alive."</font>

There were gasps all around, very audible, and she took a deep breath before going on. <font color=white>"This is no simple enemy that we face, my friends. And your safety remains my greatest priority."</font> Her eyes were pleading, and she bent forward, her hands pressing on the verandah. <font color=white>"The fact that I have returned, shows that this creature does not slay mindlessly. She attacks only when she is threatened, or when she sees her beloved forest tarnished."</font> What were they thinking? Why was there a complete gulf of silence? <font color=white>"I have thought about the future of our city, over the past hours, and my conclusion is this."</font> Another pause. <font color=white>"We leave the forest alone."</font>

<font color=lime>"Leave the forest alone? You've got to be joking!"</font>
<font color=cyan>"What about my loved ones? Did they die for nothing?"</font>
<font color=violet>"This is what happens when an ignorant though well-meaning lass takes over the helm of things!"</font>
<font color=cornflowerblue>"You have no real power! We want another stand-in!"</font>
<font color=gold>"But she's right, isn't she? Leastways, she's returned alive!"</font>
<font color=silver>"What about my business? I need wood!!"</font>
<font color=magenta>"It makes sense that you're left alone if you leave others alone..."</font>
<font color=teal>"The city isn't safe anymore, we must flee!"</font>
<font color=pink>"What does she know about handling administrative matters? Why should we listen to her?</font>
<font color=yellow>"Give her a chance! We were young once, as well!"</font>
<font color=lightsalmon>"How do you know things will be better if you leave? There is no such guarantee in life."</font>

She stood there, willing herself to face the confused crowd. I have to convince them. Taking a deep breath, she waited some more. Give me strength and courage, Father. And if I am not too greedy... some luck, too. But almost immediately, she flushed, remembering her responsibility for his current plight. It was not fair to ask more of him at a time like this.

Clearing her throat, she cried out. <font color=white>"I cannot chain you to Alesbridge, my friends! But please remember this: wherever you choose to be - here, or elsewhere - I, Robyn of Mehlingard, will remain in Alesbridge! And my decision will still be the same: to leave the forest alone, at least until we can find a better way of dealing with the enemy."</font> As the bickerings and mutterings dispersed, the faces looked amongst themselves, quite speechless. <font color=white>"I will be here, to face the consequences of this decision. And those who believe in me, are more than welcome to stay with me in our lovely city."</font>

<font color=seagreen>"But what about our businesses?"</font>
<font color=hotpink>"We will incur higher transport costs to avoid the forest!"</font>

Her eyes glistened with empathy. <font color=white>"I may not be personally involved in the day-to-day running of your businesses, but I can imagine your difficulties."</font> There were grudging nods to her reply. <font color=white>"Today, I am setting up an office at the bottom of this tower where you may approach the clerk with your specific concerns and problems. We will look into these, one by one. That is a promise."</font>

She had said enough, and it was time for the citizens to make their decision. Wearily, she made her last statement:

<font color=white>"I am with you, my friends."</font> She almost choked on the next words.

<font color=white>"Are you with me?"</font>

There was an awful pause of silence, before the crowd burst out into a chorus of whistles, cheers and "I suppose so"'s.

Stepping back, Robyn wiped away the tears that had relentlessly fought their way to her eyes.</font>

<font color=indianred><font color=plum>"What do you mean that his Lordship has gone away on urgent business?"</font> Yasmine's eyes narrowed as she perceived the elusiveness of the steward's glance.

<font color=chartreuse>"It is just as I have said, my Lady."</font> The steward bowed respectfully, grateful for yet another opportunity to escape her accusing glares. <font color=chartreuse>"His Lordship came back with Lady Robyn late last night when you had fallen asleep waiting for him. Her Ladyship had suffered flesh wounds while his Lordship barely had a scratch."</font> It was a wonder that he could keep his voice steady at such a blatant lie, and the old steward's heart bled at the irony of his words. <font color=chartreuse>"His Lordship saw some letters on the desk of his study, read them and took off before I could even start to advise him against it."</font> He looked up, lest she find his avoidance the key to his deception.

<font color=plum>"There were no letters yesterday."</font> Yasmine continued to gaze upon the steward's face which seemed a little flushed. <font color=plum>"And you know that he always comes to me, the moment he reaches home. He has never failed to do that, since the day we wed."</font> You are wily, Edward, for some reason. Why, I intend to find out, even if it kills me.

<font color=chartreuse>"I am aware of that, my Lady."</font> Edward replied humbly, his hands clasped. <font color=chartreuse>"His Lordship's devotion to you is legendary."</font> The compliment was throwing her offguard, thank goodness. <font color=chartreuse>"So I am even more firmly convinced that nothing but the most critical of matters could have drawn him away at such short and unheard-of notice."</font> Was it the temperature of the room that was rising? His collar was biting against his neck.

<font color=plum>"But what about the letters?"</font> Yasmine persisted, instinct telling her that Edward today was not his usual self. <font color=plum>"I saw no letters even last evening, and I was in his study all the while."</font>

<font color=chartreuse>"There was a late post, my Lady."</font> He muttered, trying not to cringe at her sharpness. Lady Robyn had certainly inherited her mother's traits to a tee.

<font color=plum>"How dare you lie to me, Edward?!"</font> Eyes flashing, Yasmine stormed towards him, her voice rising. <font color=plum>"How dare you tell untruths to a mistress you have sworn allegiance to!"</font>

<font color=chartreuse>"My Lady, I..."</font>

<font color=white>"Ah, there you are, Edward!"</font> To his immense relief, the door swung open and in strode his saviour. <font color=white>"There are guests out there who need attending to. I cannot think of anyone better to deal with them as they deserve."</font> Without waiting for a reply, Robyn hustled the steward out of the room.

<font color=plum>"What is all this about, Robyn? Why has your father disappeared so mysteriously and left you to take charge of his matters? Why are you not in the least worried?"</font> Despite the battering questions, Robyn took comfort on one point; her nerves were holding up sufficiently.

<font color=white>"I'm not in the least worried, Mama, because I know he is safe."</font> That much was the truth, anyway. <font color=white>"Before Papa left, I cajolled him into letting me have a run of the city while he is away - and that will not be so long, that I send the city into its ruins."</font> Throwing her arms around her mother, she hugged her snugly. <font color=white>"You worry too much, Mama."</font> With good reason. Releasing her embrace, she faced her mother as calmly as she could.

<font color=white>"Trust me, Mama. I have grown up."</font>

Yasmine watched her daughter, and looked towards the corridor where Edward had hurried down. Whatever secret these two were hiding, now was not the right time to probe. Another time, then. Nodding abstractly, she raised her hand and touched her daughter's cheek.

<font color=plum>"Who else can I trust but you, my darling?"</font> And it was true. She never knew how these words plunged into her daughter's heart. All she knew was that as she trudged along the cold marble corridor, the same words echoed in her mind.

Another time... another time...</font>

[ 07-28-2006, 09:26 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkkhaki> Altair was impressed at the speech Robyn gave. Why someone such as her was willing to take up the ruling of the city was beyond him. She was Alesbridge's guiding light for now, and he wondered what would happen if that light was stolen. Watching her walk away, he took in every detail of her. The color of her hair and eyes, they way she moved when she walked, and any other physical trait he felt was important to remember. He found it interesting her hands showed the signs of calluses from weapons. She wasn't someone to take lightly he decided.

Back at his perch, Altair continued to watch the guard shifts until nighttime approached. Slinking to the ground below, he quietly made his way to the back of the manor. Stone inlaying the building stuck out enough for him to grasp and start to climb. Minutes ticked by as he tried to continue his way up while being as quiet as possible and not falling to his death. Halfway up, the stone he had just recently grasped started to crumble. Cursing to himself, he foolishly lunged upward to grab onto the next stone. Altair hung there as his feet were thrashing about, trying to find a solid surface since the stone below had crumbled.

There was a window next to him with a ledge he could attempt for, but he knew it lead to a bedroom from his earlier observations. Altair wanted to climb higher and enter through the upper floors, but realized it was either enter through this window or fall to his death. Scowling to himself, he pushed himself off the stone and gripped onto the ledge. Pulling himself up, he peered through the window and noticed no one was inside, which he found odd at this hour. Reaching inside one of his various pouches, he pulled out a small lock pick and knife. With enough leverage from the knife and the pick to work on the lock, Altair managed to open the window. Closing it behind him, he quickly scanned the bedroom. The room was richly furnished and he vaguely wondered if this was Robyn's.

Opening a drawer, he began to look for any valuables or items of importance. His search didn't last for long when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Swiftly shutting the drawer, Altair used the windowsill to jump up to the ceiling rafters. Hidden in the shadows and holding his breath, he wondered if the owner of the room was turning in for the night or if it was simply a servant passing by.</font>

<font color=thistle>It had been a long day, indeed, one which tested her to her limits and from which she emerged if not a victor, at least not a loser.

Apart from her mother's interrogation, which had given no small amount of discomfort, the rest of the day had passed quite smoothly. Her intentions, she had clearly conveyed to Rehan and Esaha and whether they had chosen to leave or stay on their own accord, she would find out by the morrow. There was enough to think and worry about, without considering how their adventure would turn out...

As she swung round the corner and walked towards the northern wing of the manor, she stiffened.

Was it her imagination, or had she heard the sound of a drawer being shoved hastily into a dresser?

Swiftly, she drew her longsword and turned the doorknob with her free hand, making sure that not a single sound emitted from the manoeuvre. In she crept into the guest bedroom, her well-trained eyes scanning the dark surroundings (for the moon was lazy tonight and chose to hide behind the comfort of drifting clouds).

Step by step, she moved towards the dresser, her ears and eyes straining as hard as they could.

One adventure after another in the space of a day... when would she ever get some rest?</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> Pressing himself tightly against the wall, he watched Robyn below scanning her room. Damnit Altair, you're getting sloppy. Blue eyes silently watched for several moments. He hadn't been hired to kill her, and her death would gain him nothing.

Her sword was proof enough that she was no lofty noblewoman. Altair wondered briefly on how much of a challenge she would be to overtake. He couldn't deny the thought of kidnapping her was tempting. The furnishings in her room were evidence enough on the possible wealth the manor held. She was his prey he decided. He would capture her at the right moment, but for now, he continued his game of leaving her in doubt of if someone actually had been in her room.</font>

<font color=thistle>Her forehead creased as she completed the search, and a frown appeared on her lips. Without some light, it was impossible to trace footsteps or examine closer any signs of disturbances. In the meantime... if the prowler were still around, she, Robyn Mehlingard would be incapacitated.

In her earlier years, she would have squealed with delight at this prospect. But now, with the burden of Alesbridge and her father weighing heavily against her shoulders and conscience, this moment was decidedly distasteful.

Inhaling deeply, she made her way towards the window, her left hand continuing to hold the hilt tightly while her right hand reached out for each of the two window-bars in turn, seeking to shut the windows firmly.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> A grin was forming in the darkness as the thief silently pulled out a knife. Her back was turned to him now and one of her hands was occupied. Jumping from the rafters, he landed behind her with a soft thud. She had managed to turn around in time as he held his knife up to her throat and gripped her left wrist tightly.

"I would suggest you stay quiet and not move."

Their faces were mere inches apart now as he studied her. The thief was alert for any sign of agreement to what he asked or attempts to fight back. Once his mind was set on a course of action he stuck with it. He would take Robyn whether she went willingly or not.</font>

<font color=thistle>You utter moron! Her eyes blazed in the darkness, more at herself than the intruder who had bested her. If only she had looked up, instead of around... he had his weaknesses, as he had demonstrated earlier, and she could only be passive at the moment to look for further signs of these.

Blinking her agreement, she let herself go limp so that his grip would not hurt her so and perhaps her weight would burden him if he intended to haul her away.

The most important thing, of course, is to stay calm. The thought alone pervaded her mind. And so, one by one - Alesbridge, her father, her mother - emptied themselves and she focused on the present crisis.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> Removing her sword, he pressed her up against the window so he could pull a thin black rope out of a pouch. Altair quickly tied her wrists together behind her back and gagged her with a cloth. It was apparent she was going to be acting difficult and force him to carry her out.

Peering out into the hallway proved to be in his favor. Silence greeted him and he sighed in relief. Holding Robyn tightly to him so she wouldn't fall, he began the long trek out of the manor.

Occasionally they would pass a guard or a late night servant. Altair would have to quickly enter another room or hide behind a various decoration or suit of armor. Timing the run down the stairs was the worst of it. He would sit at the top and watch carefully to make sure they wouldn't run into any late night strollers. By the time they made it to ground level his shoulder was beginning to turn numb. They had no time for him to switch the shoulder he was carrying her with though. Two minutes earlier had almost led to a nasty run in with a guard. Only the shadows of the manor saved Altair from detection.

The inside structure of the manor caused faint flashbacks of his own past inside one to emerge. He was never allowed to play with the other children of the city, and would often be out in the garden to get away from the cold confinement. His parents couldn't stop their son from becoming friends with the servant’s children though, and they would often take him through their own entries and exits. One in particular was a young girl whose father was the gardener of the manor. Altair and his friend would always sneak off through the gardener's door to play in the gardens that existed on the other side.

I wonder if you have such a door? He directed his thoughts at Robyn. The young woman appeared furious and he couldn't blame her. Her father was badly injured, she was now forced to run the city on her own, and now a thief was abducting her. Altair simply shook his head, feeling glad he would never have to deal with any of that. He left the life of nobility a long time ago.

Ignoring the rest of his memories, he made his way down a side hallway that led to the gardens. He was thankful he took the time to survey the area this morning now. The fact windows along the hallway showed the garden helped as well. Seconds later he came to a door that he assumed the gardener was acquainted with. Making sure the hallway was still clear; he sat Robyn down against the door.

Rolling his shoulder proved to help some of the tension and soreness he was feeling, but he opted for carrying her the rest of the way in a different fashion. Lifting her back up, he held her as a young groom would for his bride. The irony of it all made him grin. Here he was, holding this young woman tightly to him in such a way that if circumstances were different would look romantic.

The garden was quickly covered and they soon left the area of the manor. Altair was feeling quite proud of himself that he managed to successfully kidnap Robyn. Lowering her down against a tree, he removed the cloth from her mouth but left the ropes where they were.

"I apologize that I stole you away from your home. I'm in need of money and I'm sure your family will pay a great deal for your safe return."

You wouldn't need money if you stayed with your family. You could be living the high life right now. Altair ignored the small voice and sat down across from Robyn so he could watch her. She was entangled in nobility, and yet had her own sense of freedom. His curiosity spiked up as he wondered about her.</font>

<font color=thistle>What she would have most liked to do, of course, was to spit at that hateful face of his. Not that she could see it in the dimness, of course, but one just generally had to aim in the right direction for that sort of thing.

But of course, she could not. Not only due to her upbringing, but also because she could not tell whether this was a psychopath who might completely change his mind about the money if she pushed him too far. The family wealth matters little to me. For she would gladly have traded her privileged life for a simple one where she could indulge in the sort of adventures bards sang so beautifully about. Yet... he must not get to Mama... she must not locate Papa, not in his present state.

Squinting at the faceless figure ahead of her, she pronounced her next words deliberately.

"Why are you talking to me right now, if all you want is for my family to pay your ransom?" Incredulity was creeping into her voice, against her will. "Or are you expecting me to go back there and raid the manor for you?" Which sounded even more ridiculous.

Despite her circumstances, she could not help wondering if this was his first attempt at kidnapping and whether he knew exactly what he wanted at this moment.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> Altair remained calm as he listened to her ranting. Once she was finished he stood up and moved right in front of her, gripping her face with one hand. The moonlight finally revealed his face to her as he leaned in. "You should take care of what you say to me. I believe you're in no position to throw your weight around."

Replacing the cloth in her mouth, Altair lifted her back up and continued his way through the forest. He shrugged off the stories of some monster being in these woods, and used the scare it gave the people to his advantage. No one would come charging through here to look for her. He could feel Robyn grown tense against him once she realized where she was.

"Don't tell me you believe in ghost stories too?" He said quietly at feeling her distress. Then again, he remembered her speech and how her and Rehan went through the forest. They had returned alive though. Whatever was out here, if there even was anything couldn't be all that bad.

Altair soon found out how very wrong he was.

Yellow eyes followed the young pair as they made their way deeper into the forest. Foolish humans, they never learned to stay away from their mistress's woods.

A low growl could be heard behind Altair. The thief stiffened at the noise. A muffled scream could be heard from Robyn. She was slung over his shoulder and saw whatever it was behind him. Damn, maybe I should have listened to her... Holding on tightly to Robyn, the thief ran through the forest as fast as he could. The weight of her slowed him down, and he seriously wondered why he didn't just throw her to the beast as a distraction. Oddly enough he felt a certain responsibility for the young woman. She was his captive and he felt he had to protect her until his ransom was completed.

The beast was gaining on him in the darkness. It roared in fury at the intruders, wanting to tear them apart. The thief was not aware of the root in his path up ahead. Branches clasped the moonlight to themselves, leaving very little to the ground below. An unnatural grin appeared on the tiger's face as he watched the man trip on the root and crash to the ground. He was unable to regain his balance due to the young woman he carried.

Altair only had time to roll over as the tiger pounced on him. The weight of the beast knocked the breath out of him and left him gasping for air. Get your weapon, Altair! Don't let this overgrown cat kill you... What would Berad say? Using his left arm as a shield against the claws, he grasped the dagger at his belt and plunged it into the tiger's side. Roaring in pain, it clawed at the man's arm even more, feeling the warm blood as cloth and leather were stripped away. Grimacing in pain, he pulled out another dagger from his belt and thrust it into the animal's neck.

Backing away, the tiger shifted targets and went for the female lying on ground. She was bound and it knew would make a much easier target. Not her... You're not taking her... Gritting his teeth and staggering up; he quickly pulled out two throwing knives from his boots. He threw it at the tiger and watched in satisfaction as it buried itself into the beast's shoulder. Growling, it turned away from Robyn and charged at Altair. Determined to rip him into pieces. "Damn beast..." He said quietly as he threw his last throwing knife. The blade sunk into the animal's eye and left a sickening crunch. Crashing to the ground, the tiger looked at Altair pitifully as it died. Removing his weapons from the animal, he wiped it clean on the fur and put them back on his belt and inside his boots.

Clutching his arm to his chest, he made his way over to Robyn. She appeared to be ok, but extremely shaken up. Without a word he wrapped his uninjured arm around her and helped her to her feet. He hoped she would be more cooperative now and walk.</font>

[ 07-29-2006, 05:15 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=thistle>Her head was racing against her heart, what with the life-threatening encounter just a few split seconds ago. Why had he saved her, though? Puzzlement ate at her as she took the opportunity to scrutinise his appearance. A pair of lively blue eyes, wisps of black hair framing his oval face and a mouth which could not decide whether to smile or not (and even then, the smile would have been unnatural). Hints of a beard and mustache upon the face which showed an awkward expression. A bushy pony tail peeked out from his neck, due to the shorter length of his hair. As she drew her head back slightly and her eyes roamed over the human canvass before her, she hazarded that he was in his early twenties.

Of course, the next logical step would be make some form of judgement on this oddball. After all, it was not everyday that a kidnapper would endanger his life to rescue his hostage. What could he possibly have hoped to gain from this? Perhaps he's not so bad as he appears. But almost simultaneously, another thought stained her impression of him.

Does he expect a greater reward for this?

She did not want to believe this second option, but it was a possibility she could not deny. Shelving it for now, she got to her feet.

"Where are you headed?" Suspicion and awareness of the danger before them kept her mentally alert now, with only remnants of discomposure lingering upon her dirt-streaked face.

"If we hang around here any longer, we're dead."</font>

[ 07-29-2006, 07:33 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkkhaki> "You'll find out." His breathing was rough as they made their way through the forest. He cursed himself that he couldn't be quieter, but the gashes in his forearm burned with pain.

To be honest with himself, he wasn't sure what was on the other side of the forest. He wasn't well acquainted with the area and he had originally planned to camp out in the woods. The scare of a monster would keep guards away, but now that the stories proved to be true... Altair shook his head at his stupidity.

Much to his relief they had only entered a small part of the woody area. He didn't want to think about crossing the central forest. Moonlight greeted them as the entrance appeared just ahead.

Savage roars filled the forest as the other beasts learned of the tiger's death. Swiftly pulling a knife from his belt, he cut the rope around her wrists and gripped her arm. "Run as hard as you can." With that said he pulled her along with him and ran. The welcoming scenery on the other side of the forest was all Altair could see. He refused to become another victim to this cursed forest.

Paws crunching twigs and leaves could be heard behind them. It sounded as if an army of beasts were after the two. Ignoring his advice, Altair looked behind him and saw 5 large cats after them. A mix of panthers, tigers, and lions quickly caught up. Gripping Robyn's shirt, he leapt forward out of the forest as a hill on the other side came into view. The pair roughly rolled down the hill together as he continued to hold onto her shirt with his good hand.

The thief let go of her once they reached the bottom of the grassy dune. He lay there breathing heavily and clutching his arm. Despite all of it he couldn't help but grin. He knew Berad would have been proud.</font>

<font color=thistle>Panting, she eased her upper torso up, stretching her shoulders and gently pounding her nape. By a stroke of good luck, she was quite unharmed other than for a few scratches.

Glancing at her kidnapper, she discovered that he was certainly in a worse shape than herself. Serves him right! She scrambled to her feet. Now's your best chance to go, Robyn! Yes, it would perfect to take off now, when he was at his vulnerable state. All that he had suffered, was due to his stupidity and his ill intentions towards her.

And yet, her feet stubbornly rooted themselves to the ground as she eyed his wounds. You can't overlook the fact that he saved you. She clenched her fists, looking down at her toes. You wouldn't have needed saving if he hadn't threatened your life, tossed you over like a meatloaf and dragged you here. The seconds seemed like hours as she contemplated her courses of action.

At length, she stepped forward. You won't owe him anything, after this. Closing her eyes, she murmured the incantations of a cure wounds spell and rested her hand on his arm.</font>

<font color=silver>Time and again, she had believed. Trusted those false humans that they would keep to their side of the bargain. Relented when she should not have, not when her own experiences had taught her to be ruthless as a matter of survival.

This was her weakness. The youthful soldier had discovered it, she was sure, and he had spread the word that she was a pushover. That was why every now and then, at this moment it was another lad and Gerald's daughter, people continued to infiltrate the forest at will and disturbed the peace.

They had to be taught a lesson. Yes, it could not go on indefinitely like this, and she must rectify the errors of her ways. That was why she had sent her five favourite felines to avenge their brother's death. Silly the humans were; they did not realise that animals had as much feelings as you and I, and their codes of conduct stricter than ours. They would have no mercy where she did; she could rely on them to deliver swift justice where she wavered.

<font color=mediumspringgreen>"Is it done?"</font> A brooding rage kept her voice trembling and low, as she eyed her messenger intently. Then she threw back her head and roared her wrath as she heard the response.

Escaped! They had managed to avert their demise by seconds, simply by rolling out of the confines of the forest. Her shoulders shook and she gripped her staff for support as she paced around the room.

So... they want to test my patience, again. The air was stifling with the waves of fury she radiated. So... Gerald does not heed my act of mercy. It would be so easy now, to release her friends upon Alesbridge, what with his precious gem of a daughter out of reach and command. It would be a lesson not only to Alesbridge, but to the whole world, not to take the forest for granted.

It was justified.

Exhaling slowly, she stepped out of the forest and raised her scaly hands, calling out in a tongue that only her allies could comprehend:

<font color=mediumspringgreen>"Awaken, my friends!"</font> It had been a long time that she made an impassioned speech, and that novelty alone drew her audience rapidly. <font color=mediumspringgreen>"Attack Alesbridge right now!"</font> She could feel their temperatures rising; she also knew that the moment they had been waiting for had come. <font color=mediumspringgreen>"Kill all at sight!"</font> A thunderous symphony of animal cries arose.

<font color=mediumspringgreen>"Above all..."</font> Her eyes were alight with venom. <font color=mediumspringgreen>"Have no mercy."</font>

Her friends needed no repeat of her invitation. Watching them take off, she turned to her trusted companion.

<font color=mediumspringgreen>"Come now, Rake. We have some unfinished business to settle, too."</font> Together, they made their way out of their sanctuary and towards the hilly area just outside the reach of the forest.</font>

[ 07-29-2006, 09:08 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkkhaki> Altair watched her in surprised as she cured his wounded arm. He half expected her to run away and leave him there bleeding. She does have every right to do so. Eyeing his arm warily, as if not believing she really did cure it, he sat up to look at her.

The moonlight softly highlighted her blond hair, and he wondered what she would have been like if they met under different circumstances. Standing up, he brushed the dirt off himself and left to look for firewood. He trusted her not to run away, especially since the forest extended a long way across the path back to Alesbridge.

Several minutes later he returned with an arm full of wood and went about making a small fire. Sitting close to the warmth of the flames, he motioned for her to join him. Altair didn't enjoy not knowing what it was he would do next. Being a thief always had its unexpected moments, but now the pair was completely cut off from Alesbridge, unless they dared to venture back into the forest.

Pulling out a small pouch, he handed her some dry meat wordlessly and then helped himself to some. The silence was heavy between the two, and he couldn't deny she had captivated his interests. Not only was she a usual noblewoman, she had opted to heal his injuries after what he had done. He vaguely wondered if he had met her before when they were children, back when nobility across the land would meet his father for treaties and trade goods. Leaving the question unvoiced, he tossed the remains of his meal into the fire and laid back in the grass, his gaze taking in the scattered stars.</font>

<font color=thistle>She chewed the meat gingerly, more to satisfy her hunger pangs than to really savour its taste. The whole setting tonight seemed eerie, and even the flames of the little fire could not warm the blood that flowed beneath her chilly skin. Facing a taciturn and enigmatic kidnapper she had just healed did not help to resolve the complexity of the situation and in desperation, she turned to memories for comfort...

<font color=royalblue>It was one of those delightful parties she had been taken to, month after month after month. Papa had so many friends, and all of them lived either in grand mansions or beautifully furnished palaces. So often he had pinched her cheek and winked at her, saying <font color=gold>"You'll always live in one of these, Robyn. Either with Papa or your husband."</font> And she had blushed and pouted to hide her embarassment. <font color=violet>"I'm not getting married, Papa, so you can just stop that!"</font> What she loved best were his bear hugs afterwards, and how he'd swing her into the air amid Mama's protests...

This particular day was no different. Like the brash scion she was, she had dashed off the moment the adults began talking - and what strange words and phrases they used, none of them interesting in the least! - and ignored the shocked gasps and amused giggles around her. For she had sported a movement in that direction; the movement of one who was not an adult, and who would therefore provide greater amusement than any of them.

She was not disappointed in her expectations. The boy, who appeared sullen and ill at ease initially, had tried to shoo her away. But she was a fighter, and she clung to him, throwing a barrage of inquisitive questions and accusing tears, all of which wore him down eventually. Sitting obediently on the ground, she listened to his tales with rapture. What sparkling blue eyes he had! They were almost as mesmerising as the stories, and she clapped her hands joyously each time he completed one. She liked everything about him, down to his black hair which was so glossy that it seemed wasted on a boy.

<font color=violet>"Another story, Altair! Another story!"</font> And long after, this name would stick in her memory. <font color=violet>"How funny and brave your stories are! I want another one!"</font> She tugged at his velvet shirt which seemed to sit uncomfortably upon him. <font color=violet>"Would you be a story teller if you weren't in this family, Altair? You're really good!"</font>

She would not remember his response in the years to come. Perhaps the memory of an eight-year-old could not be depended upon to retain much of what it flittingly stored there. She only remembered those amazing blue eyes, black hair and the somewhat pale skin of his... and of course, their little secret...</font>

Subconsciously, she had reached into her unbuttoned collar and drawn out a silver chain bearing a curious-looking pendant. The chain itself was still shining, as she had polished it diligently every month since the day it was bestowed upon her. The pendant comprised a thin band of circle in the backdrop, and upon it lay the crescent moon, the fiery sun and a single perfect star. That was what Altair had given her on the first day of their acquaintance. Had he kept what she had given him? Did he ever think of her? Was he even alive in the first place?

Fingering it, Robyn's eyes grew wistful as she roamed the following years in search of their subsequent playtimes. There had been a number at one point, all of them enjoyable, until the visits stopped. On hindsight, she wondered if it had been because the Mehlingard wealth had proven to be too little for the Swizec family. For her heart had quite broken when she heard that Altair was to be married to Vivian Jasper upon his coming of age...

What did it all matter? Altair had gone missing about eight years ago, and in her moments of bitterness, she consoled herself that this was the price his father had to pay for all his political manoeuvres. She, herself, was just another pawn, of course. Or had almost been. Her father had tried hard to keep her to his side as much as possible - and this reminder drove a wedge into her heart now - but her mother was obsessed with keeping the family honour and wealth. One day, she might end up despising herself the way she sneered at Lord Swizec...

Why are you even thinking of this, at a time like this? Shaking herself back into reality, she flushed as she caught her kidnapper's expression and hurriedly tucked the necklace back into safety. She had only regained her composure when she nearly started at a realisation.

This kidnapper had blue eyes and black hair too.</font>

[ 07-29-2006, 10:18 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkkhaki> That necklace... Altair was taken back when he saw it. How does she have that? Could it really be her? He watched her intently for several minutes. The thief began studying her face in the firelight and he actually looked at her this time. Before it had only been simply to use for his capture of her. Blueprints for a plan he wanted to execute. Now though, that he took in her green eyes and blond hair, and the surprised look on her face, he wondered if this really was the Robyn from his past.

How could it not be? How many noblewomen have her physical traits along with your necklace? Altair had never expected to see her again. He assumed she would already be married to some rich Lord and have forgotten him completely. It was apparent that wasn't the case when he noticed how polished the necklace was.

Reaching inside his shirt, he pulled out a similar pendant. The chain was gold and looped through an unraveled scroll. Written upon the small scroll was a story the pair had come up with together. At the very bottom was their names signing their claim to the story. He held it out for her to see, and quietly watched her, feeling at a loss for words.</font>

<font color=thistle>As she dared another glance at the kidnapper, she spotted his hand movement and felt her heartbeat quickening as he produced the very token she had just moments ago been pondering about.

Blue eyes... black hair... and the scroll. She grabbed at it, her eyes transfixed upon the words which unlocked the gate of further memories. It couldn't be... here was her name, and Altair's! It was so unbelievable, but there it was.

Altair was back.

The Altair she had adored all these years.

He looked worn, furtive, uncertain.

And he had just kidnapped her.

Staring at him at last, she remained open-mouthed for a while before sanity demanded that she do something, instead of gaping at him.

Giving in to her impulse, she burst out, half-laughing, half-crying, "Where the devil have you been?" Beating her clenched fists against his chest, she demanded. "And is this how you treat an old friend? By kidnapping her?!"

Caught up in the confusion of her emotions, she could only continue to rain blows upon him, releasing her pent-up feelings.</font>

<font color=darkkhaki> He endured her blows until she started to wear herself out. Reaching forward, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. Altair tried to grasp at something to say for the situation, but everything slipped through his fingers but for two words. "I'm sorry." He whispered to her as he rested his head against her shoulder. Thoughts whirled through his mind on the murders and crimes he had committed... all in the name of the freedom he wanted so badly. Now that he had that freedom, he wasn't sure if it had all been worth it.

Never had he thought of such a thing before, but now that Robyn was here with him, here inside his embrace once again, he suddenly started to feel guilty. He couldn't lie to himself and say being a thief wasn't exciting and the embodiment of what he had wanted. A thief is his own master, he answers to no one and does as he pleases.

Had he failed her all these years? Would it have been better if he took her with him when he ran away? Altair knew it wouldn't have. He didn't want her to know what it felt like to never know when your next meal would come, or not have anywhere to sleep but in a dirty alley, or constantly be alert for death. It was better that you stayed where you were. He decided silently.

The irony of the situation struck Altair as the thought entered his mind. He had kidnapped her! Took her away from her home, tied and gagged her, and brought her through that cursed forest. He failed her so horribly that Altair wouldn't be surprised at all if she wanted nothing more to do with him. Yet, if he hadn't of ran away, he would have already been married to someone from the Jasper family. His father was a forceful man, and Altair had no say in the situation. If he was to marry, it would be someone he loved, not something his family decided for him.

He wondered if lady luck was laughing at him. Within his arms was the only girl he ever had feelings for.</font>

[ 07-30-2006, 12:23 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=thistle>From the tightness of his embrace, she drew consolation that the years of longing and regret she had spent had not been totally worthless. From those two words, she sensed that he had a lifetime's worth of experiences compacted into those years and there was no way he could even begin to describe them; certainly not at a time like this. From the sound of his breathing and his pulpitating heartbeat, she guessed at his own uncertainty and perhaps, reciprocating joy.

For a moment, she was contented to be enveloped in his arms, so welcome they were after all she had undergone in the last few days. It's as if he has never gone... No, that was too blatant a lie. The world had changed, and the people living in it, even if they did not intend to, would have evolved to meet that change. The thought brought her to her senses and reluctantly, she lifted her head and gazed into his eyes.

"We've so much to catch up on, Altair. I hardly know where we should begin." Her green eyes glittered, reflecting the prancing flames of the campfire.

Did she dare to ask? Did she want to know the answer?

"I... I just want to know what you intend to do with me now." Slowly disengaging her arms, she looked at him in partial wariness, while delirium continued to hover at the back of her mind.</font>

[ 07-30-2006, 01:28 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=darkkhaki> Regret reflected from his eyes as he watched her. "What I intend to do is bring you back to Alesbridge." He never should have accepted the job to rob Lord Gerald's manor. If this young woman had been anyone but Robyn you know you wouldn't be saying this right now. Altair couldn't hide from his conscience.

"It seems I placed you in even more danger I'm afraid. Unless we plan to walk around the forest which could take over a day, our only other option is to go back the way we came." He knew it was foolish to enter the forest again, and had no plans in doing so. He refused to put Robyn into further danger.

A thought suddenly came to him as he watched the light of the fire caress her features. "Why don't you come with me? You know as well as I do what the pains of nobility can be." Even as the words left his mouth he knew they would be turned down. How could he ask her to leave with him? He knew her father was injured, and Alesbridge needed her. It would be selfish to expect her to leave all of that to come with him. His... profession was not a safe course of action, and he realized he didn't want Robyn to be caught up in the evils of the world.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked that." Altair wasn't sure what to do. Robyn's world of nobility was no longer something he was a part of. He doubted Lord Gerald would ever accept him into his manor, especially if he found out about the attempted robbery and abduction of his daughter. Frowning, his gaze shifted to the ground.</font>