Tavern by the Creek (The Curses) Part III

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Even with his eyes attuned only to movement the brightness of the runes marking her body is striking. She shouts in her tongue and power erupts from her hand, but he feels only the wind and the pressing of her body against him. She presses her face against his neck and his arms tighten their embrace of her. They hang still for a moment suspended over the water, the wind itself bearing the touch of his life to her. “Sof’ya,” he whispers and the name suffuses itself into the movement of the air around her, speaking again and again with each of the diverse currents of air that move against her body, “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im.” Again he presses her tightly against himself and, exhaling strongly, moves with her to the clearing, the force of the winds around them scattering the wolves. Their feet touch the soft grass and he is spent, but he will not release his embrace of her just yet.

ooc: KayLisa will have noted that life left his body while the axes were not in his possession. [Even the Devouring Wind does not know about this.]

[Neb]

The doors of the crypt swung inwards at Neb's touch, raising a cloud of dust. He looked inside, and saw a row of sarcophagi along each wall of a long hall with a descending staircase at the end. Nothing out of the ordinary. The psionic walked inside, raising a cloud of dust with each step, senses intent in everything around him.

Neb was momentarily surprised at how calmly he was going about this, he had acted almost sanely for a while now, he had achieved clarity in the depths of madness it seemed. He shrugged at this, no matter, what mattered now was doing his master's bidding.

Neb had gotten half-way past the sarcophagi and to the stairs when he heard a creak behind him, then a slam, the crypt doors had closed. Everything was dark, he had forgotten to bring a torch! The psionic cursed his own foolishness when he heard more creaks, heard movement, he almost panicked, almost gibbered with fear.

He would be slaughtered in the darkness, defenseless and blind..... NEVER! Neb drew his blade and spoke it's name, the runes flared into life. The psionic smiled and looked around, the sarcophagi had opened and the occupants had left. Only a quick duck and roll allowed Neb to avoid a greatsword that was swung towards his head.

He backed up against a wall next to the crypt doors and did a quick count, 16 of them, 16 large skeletons each armed with a greatsword, this was bad. This was VERY bad. No chance to retreat though, so he might as well fight. Shouting out a random chaotic battlecry Neb charged forwards and sent the head of the first one flying with a slash from his sword.

[TAOWolf]

She feels his arms around her, and can smell him, but cannot feel his spirit, and panics at first............ As she calms though, she realizes that he is there, and his spirit is on the wind carrying them...

She hears the name he gave her float around her with the wind, and she grabs him tighter, the power surging through her sending tingles through him.... She vaguely notices the wolves scattering the clearing, and quickly sends calming messages to them...

She thinks to herself, "I must teach him the ways of the wolves, and teach them part of his ways, or at least the different ways power runs through him...."

As their feet touch the ground, she collapses into his embrace, unwilling to let go just yet, and seeks his lips, knowing she can tell him later of what she is sure has happened within her......

[Cyril Darkcloud]

He returns her kiss, and, feeling the collapse of her body against his, shifts his arms that he might support her. Holding her against him with his right arm, he runs his left hand along the side of her face allowing his touch to linger at the place curve where her cheek and neck meet. With his remaining strength he lifts her and moves to her bedroll where he gently settles her. Seeing the cuts on her arms and legs he exhales sharply. “Sof’ya,” he says, “that was foolish, very foolish.” He closes her lips with his own and then, finding her hands, repeats himself, “Yes, foolish indeed. And I love you all the more for it.” She begins to move and he stills her, “Lie still for now and allow me to see to you.”

[TAOWolf]

She starts to sit up, but falls back, content in letting him see to her, although her hands keep wandering from his, to softly run down his body, and she smiles....
"You can tend to these wounds later, I have a deep wound that needs healed". She sighs, and clasps his face in her torn hands, drawing his face close to hers......

[Cyril Darkcloud]

He bends down to her and as he does so his arms move underneath her back and he slowly lifts her that she might sit up against him. Without speaking, he removes the wooden ring from his right hand and places it over one of her fingers. He kisses her lightly upon the forehead and, resting a hand against her cheek, waits for her to speak.

ooc: The regeneration effect from the ring should restore her to full health by morning.

[ 03-29-2002, 04:15 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[TAOWolf]

She stares wordlessly at the ring, and turns her face into his hand, sighing........."I am not going to ask what you were doing, or why you screamed......" She smiles slightly wincing at the cuts as they start to sting. "Well, maybe I do need to take care of these cuts, and yes it may very well have been foolish, but you would've done no less" she stares him in the eyes, trying to look stern, and not quite succeding.....

She glances over his shoulder at the wolves, who just now are coming back into view, hackles raised. The Alpha female glares at Cyril, then her eyes soften, and she sits. Now understanding what the wind was, and nods to the others who immediately lay around the clearing in a protective circle.....

The young pup sneaks up on the two of them, and she laughs at Cyril's exclamation as Grounder bites at his finger.......

OOC: she is acting this way, because she does not remember cursing the wind.

[ 03-29-2002, 09:48 AM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

He smiles at her attempted sternness, but remains silent, allowing her space to speak, and continues tending to her hands. He pays no attention to the wolves only to be reminded of their presence by the pup’s biting at his fingers. “The warrior returns,” he laughs as he lifts the young wolf and places it gently down an arm’s length away. “Not now,” he whispers, just managing a gentle firmness to his tone. After he has cleaned and dressed her hands his eyes find hers and he smiles, “We shall have to teach you how to climb, then, if you are to be so foolish as me.” Again he falls silent opening space for her speaking and begins to clean and dress the cuts upon her legs. He is thankful that these slow movements of tending to her cuts allow him to mask the extent of his own loss of energy. He finishes and sitting beside her wraps an arm around her shoulders. He kisses her lightly on the top of her head and turning her face that he might see her eyes simply asks, “What is this other wound?”

ooc: TAO -- Have a great weekend and a happy Easter.

[TAOWolf]

She sighs, and looks briefly at Grounder, who is pouting nearby, eyeing Cyril's shirt tail. She looks back at him, "It is nothing, only time will heal that wound" She reaches out drawing runes in the ground mindlessly...........

She notices now how drained he is, and pulls his ring off her finger, and grabs his hand, slipping it back on his own finger, not accepting no as an answer. "I do not need this, it is only scrapes and cuts, and my pride was the only thing seriously wounded..." She frowns, "I know how to climb perfectly, I was just.... just.... OH....scared for you I suppose, and wasn't thinking."

Really seeing how tired he is, she gives him a distraction, and something to think about....

She smacks the ground with the flat of her ha
nd over the runes she drew. As she brings her hand up, a flame dances on the ground above the runes, and a small breeze playfully blows the flame back and forth in a tiny dance of oneness....

She smiles and points to it, "That is you and I, my dear WindBringer............. that is you and I" She pats his cheek and stands, grimacing at sore muscles and gets a cup of tea, adding some willowbark to it, and makes a horrid face as she drinks it....."BAH! Nasty stuff, but it works.." Seeing the expression on his face to her grimace, she almost spits it back out, laughing........

[ 03-31-2002, 04:10 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

He laughs, his exhaustion broken a moment by her sudden good humor. The laughter and the relief are only for a moment, however, and he rises slowly to his feet. The sound of her cries still rings within his ears and even this weakness in his limbs speaks of his rapid movement to break her fall. “I am no child to be so easily put off,” he smiles and grasps her hand in his own. Peeling back the dressing and exposing the deep cuts on her hand, he speaks quietly, “These are no mere scrapes, woman.” He waits for her to look at the cuts before replacing the dressing. Gently he touches her cheek and turns her face near his that he might again feel her breath. His voice, still low, takes on a building firmness, “And there is more than a simple cup of wine upon your breath. No, KayLisa, you were troubled well before my own cry broke the afternoon’s stillness, so troubled you nearly lost your life .....” The look of resignation she wore as she fell rises in his thoughts and he moves quickly away from her, his control slipping.

“Have you been denied death so long that you will so easily surrender to its call? Know this, then,” his voice rises and the air gusts around him, “I will not surrender you so easily into any arms other than my own, be they those of death or those of destiny.” His body shakes, longing to burst from its exhaustion into stormy movement, but he remains standing before this one whom he will not lose. “No, woman,” his voice grows quiet once more, “I will not lose the second half of my heart.” He moves slowly toward her one more, stepping behind her and wrapping his tired arms around her. Turning her toward the tiny dance of flame and wind – All of the spontaneity of flame alive in wind – his own thoughts of the morning strike him once more. “Sof’ya,” he whispers and his breath moves to the dance and mingles with the tiny wind, “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im.” The flame grows suddenly larger and brighter, warming in turn the breeze and lending new vigor to its movements. The smile returns to his face and the mutually embracing movements of wind and flame leave the localizing runes and sweep through the clearing, provoking a startled response from Grounder. He holds her without speaking until flame and wind bear one another back to the runes she has traced in the earth. “Nothing moves with the freedom of wind,” he whispers over her, “nor, does anything dance with the beauty of flame.”

Releasing his embrace he moves to face her. He raises his burned fingers to the place on his forehead which bears the outsider mark and touches it. His touch moves from the rune to her lips, “Unseal them, woman, and speak to me.”

[ 04-01-2002, 11:12 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]