Leafblade & Freelight: The Barracks

[mistral4543]

"I've never been so tired in all my life!" A young girl about fifteen years of age panted as she entered the laundry room carrying a basketful of filthy clothes. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of caked mud and dried blood, she nearly retched "A good thing this sort of thing doesn't happen often, eh, Martha?"

The woman she was addressing turned around and shot her a toothy grin. "Had enough of it already, Betsy?" She shook her head in mock disapproval. "You haven't seen the worst yet, believe me, but this is close enough, I'll concede." Then returning to the basin of rinsed shirts before her, she rubbed them vigorously.

"They do say that our Lordship fought valiantly during the battle. He hardly earned a scratch!" Betsy prattled on, dumping the basket onto the ground with relief and pouring a bucket of soapy water into a fresh tub. "Pity, though, about that wife of his, although..." The tone of her voice had gone sly.

"Ho ho! Our dear Betsy sets her cap on none other than his Lordship then!" Martha burst into a bout of raucous laughter. "Get nothing but the best, eh?" The laundry room rang with tired laughter while Betsy stuck her tongue out her senior. "Mind you, we're an open-minded lot here, we are. But take care that your daydreams go no further than this room... yer'll only invite jeers if news travels beyond here!"

Pouting, Betsy continued to scrub the clothes. "When will all these folks be gone, anyway? It's not just tonnes of clothes here, but the bedsheets, pillow-cases... everything!" She threw her hands up in despair, sending a spray of soapsuds flying about to her fellow colleagues' alarm. "His Lordship's too kind, that's what's the problem! Whoever heard of soldiers bursting into the kitchen, milling around the corridors and flinging themselves onto the beds as if the place belonged to them? It ain't right..."

"It's alright as long as Lord Gerald says so, and you'd do well to remember that, Betsy Bryan." Martha was suddenly serious. "We work here for a living, and if he deems fit to bring in lepers - not that I mean any comparison here, it's good enough for us!" Caught up now by some inspiration, she added passionately. "His Lordship's enlightened, that's what! And a more compassionate ruler we'll never find. So it's an honour to work belongside him, see?" Her eyes were shining.

"As for your complaints, you lazy lout..." Her bantering tone unruffled much of Betsy's chagrin, "They'll clear out as soon as they can. They wouldn't want to catch you on your moods, girl." Reaching out to pat the girl's shoulders, she chuckled as Betsy made a face at her.

[mistral4543]

Tucked away in an obstrusive corner of the east wing, two men - one in his late twenties, and the other in his early twenties - were preparing to call it a day.

"What do you think of that pretty young girl, Bernard? You know, the one who saved his Lordship's life."

"Ah, you noticed her as well." Bernard shot his friend a competitive smile. "A born charmer, Edgar, A born charmer." Taking out his pipe, he began to smoke keenly, as if the cloud puffs he produced could reconjure the image of she whom they were speaking of.

"Her name's Esaha, did you know that?" Yet the boast turned sour as Edgar seemed to regret this revelation. Hurrying on, he continued. "Has she left the compound already? I didn't see her this afternoon and evening."

Bernard's eyebrows arched as a lazy smile crept upon his lips. "You can't be everywhere at the same time, now, can you?" The smile widened into a grin. "I saw her."

"You saw her?!" Edgar practically yelled, then cupped his mouth at his indiscretion. A paused ensued. "Well?! Where is she?? Where did she go and is she coming back?"

Bernard fended off the persistent questions with a non-committal shrug of the shoulders. "How should I know? I only directed her to the bath..." Here, he could not help but smirk at the envious "O" forming on Edgar's mouth. "It's nothing raunchy, you pervert!" Picking up a shoe, he flung it at his junior. "In fact, she badly needed one... and knew it." His nose wrinkled at a recent memory. "Anyway, she also asked for directions to any person in town who knew the magical arts." He shrugged again. "I've no idea whether she eventually headed there and where she is now."

"It's seldom that we get visitors here." Edgar's eyes were still glazed. "It's harder work than usual, to be sure, but I don't mind it, not when they're as attractive as she is." He ducked as another shoe came flying at him. "Hey, stop that!" He glared at his friend. "For a person of eight-and-twenty, your behaviour is incredibly childish!"

Bernard ignored the taunt, tucking himself into bed. "This is the last time I'm warning you, Edgar. We work here. We don't get paid to hover around young ladies, trying to make eyes at them." He yawned in an exaggerated way, showing his disinterest in continuing the discourse. "There are enough tasks awaiting us tomorrow. Get some rest."

[mistral4543]

"How many wounded do you think we've helped today?" Christopher glanced at his companion as they strolled out to the gardens. Above, the silver moon beamed upon them, thanking them for the relief that they and their team of dedicated healers had brought to the casualties of the battle.

"Close to a thousand, at least." Marian replied, her lips twitching. "You must be exhausted. I hardly saw you rest." The scent of the flowers was pure bliss, after a full day of inhaling sweaty bodies, infested wounds and raw blood. "That's why we have shifts, Christopher. You are no human with godly powers. Like the rest of us, you need a break."

A chortle emerged from Christopher's weary lips. "I would gladly welcome rest, if I did not have this constant worry that we are shorthanded, and any delay puts the lives of these brave heroes at risk." His steps were slow, and the walk was altogether pleasant now that no dark thoughts were clouding their heads. "Many have lost their lives, and those who survived must have been given a chance to stay, by the gods they worship." His eyes glistened as he tilted his head to look at the moon. "It was in our power to save them, and we had to do what we should."

Marian remained silent as she directed her gaze to the nearby shrubs. It was a long time before she spoke up again. "Well, whatever it is, you've every right to be proud of yourself. Your family, too." The last phrase was pronounced cautiously, and she glanced away when she felt his eyes drilling holes into her left cheek.

"I hardly think my aunt would have much to say about my deeds." Christopher gave a dry laugh as they continued on their ramble. "She never approved of me taking this profession. Thought that it was too demeaning and low-paying a job." Yet self-consolation and gratitude were evident in his tone as he went on. "It doesn't matter. I like what I do, and I'm glad you don't share her views."

Aware that her heart was throbbing, Marian tried to keep a straight face as she tried to answer light-heartedly. "I ought to support your decision; after all, I am in the same line as you." She giggled nervously. "Besides, who else has the power to aid a person in his course between life and death?" She stopped to sniff a rose in full bloom. "And no one is as dedicated as you, as I mentioned earlier. You, who never stop to think for yourself. You need someone to watch out for you, make sure that you don't stretch yourself too far..." She stopped, thankful that the night was camouflaging the shade of her cheeks.

"Will you be that person, Marian?"

Wildly, she glanced at him, caught the sober expression on his face. Neither boyish earnestness nor patronising condescension was on that face; it was steadfast hope that gleamed from his dark eyes. She did not know how she managed to stand upright and hold her head high, but she managed it somehow.

"You are sure?" The foolish words of an insecure person. Of course he was sure, she scolded herself. Why else would he have asked you? But she knew the answer, knew why she had posed this unnecessary question. It had taken so long to come to this point, and she wanted to savour every moment of it.

"Yes, I am sure." He made no attempt at promises or poetry, opting instead to come up to her and hold her trembling hand. "Forgive me for torturing you so long. I... I wanted to be sure." Was this the confident Christopher she had faced over these eight years? There was a crack behind that facade, and she rejoiced in it. There would always be flaws behind humans; some just needed more time to be uncovered.

"Yes." No further games would she play, too. Briefly, she wondered if it had partly been the games she had adopted earlier, that had caused this delay. "Yes, I will be that person, Christopher." She repeated, feeling that her heart would burst.

Several moments passed, before they turned back towards the infirmary, hand in hand.

[ 08-08-2006, 09:53 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

[Deiter Leafblade]

How to tell him... Altair knew he couldn't lie on this piece of information. Gerald could possibly consult with his daughter over what has transpired and there he would be caught.

"I kidnapped your daughter, and took her through the forest. I foolishly didn't believe in the stories of beasts lurking within. We were attacked, but I saved Robyn and together we made it through to the either side. Due to wounds I suffered we had to make camp and make the trip back the following." He responded bluntly, leaving it up to Gerald to decide what it was he thought of him.

"Ya see this, boy?" Berad pointed to large lock that was lying on the table. Altair nodded as he moved in closer to examine it. Shades of silver and brass along with bits of wood greeted them. "Use the lock picks ya got on ya and try to open this. I have a job tonight, so if ya ain't opened it by then don't bother showing me yar face."

Altair had an amused expression etched on his face. He was feeling confident that he could pick the lock open in no time. Sitting down at the table, he pulled out his lock picks from inside his jacket. Cool metal was slid into the lock entrance as concentration took over.

Thirty minutes later left Altair in the same position that he had started in. Cursing, frustration started to take over as he continued to try various lock picks. "What kind of lock is this...?" He grumbled to himself. Nothing seemed to work.

Several hours went by and he vaguely wondered if Berad would be returning soon. Exhausted from the hours of energy he poured into attempting to open the lock left him irritable. Berad returned home a few minutes later with a smirk. "I see ya still haven't managed to open that lock." Alatir looked up at him hotly. "What of it?" His words were bold, and he knew the second they left his mouth that he'd regret it.

Ignoring Altair's words, Berad made his way to the table and picked the lock in one swift motion. The younger man could only stare at him in a mixture of envy and awe. "Some of the most intimidating locks are the easiest to open. I thought I beat that into ya enough times to know that." Berad gripped Altair's shoulder and roughly threw him outside. "Ya can come back once ya learn to be a real thief, not a pathetic excuse for one." His words stung, but Altair turned away stubbornly and attempted to find a place to sleep for the night..

[ 08-10-2006, 04:00 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

[Deiter Leafblade]

"What do you mean we're out of bandages? I asked Peter to bring in a new box over an hour ago!" A young woman glared hotly at the man in front of her. "I'm sorry ma'am, but Peter hasn't been seen since you sent him off." The man winced at the look she gave him. He was just a lowly servant, what did he know about medical needs!

Sighing, she brushed back loose strands of her dark blond hair and then pointed behind the man. "Since Peter has went missing I'll give you the task to retrieve new bandages for us. We have wounded men here! Why is everyone being so incompetent?" Turning quickly, she made her way in the opposite direction of the servant and didn't bother to check on if he had left.

Briskly walking down the long corridor to the south wing, she stopped briefly as she caught her reflection in a window. Tired hazel eyes stared back at her, a mixture of green and brown. Her dark blond hair was tied back to keep the strands away from her patients as she worked. She had recently celebrated her 20th birthday and the memory caused a sarcastic grin to appear on her face. She was young for a healer, causing others to look down on her when they noticed her youth. Any doubts in her skill were quickly dispelled when they saw her in action.

"Miss Algori! Hello! Miss Algori!!" Throwing formalities out the window, a man walked up to the young healer and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jin! Stop gawking at yourself and hurry to the southern wing." She jerked away from his touch and felt her cheeks redden. Noticing whom the man was, her embarrassment was quickly replaced by annoyance.

"Peter! Where the hell have you been? We needed those bandages over an hour ago!" She crossed her arms across her chest and waited for his excuse. Peter suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. "Well I... uh... Christen distracted me. She uh... needed help and being the gentleman I am had to stop what I was doing to uh... help."

Jin's gaze was smoldering as she watched him squirm. "So, you were off fooling around with the kitchen girl while we have dying men in our care. Men who died already from the lack of bandages we needed! That YOU were supposed to get!" Pushing him out of the way, she continued her brisk pace to the southern wing. Peter watched her leave, and before she was out of earshot, "Well then, since you're so high and mighty, maybe explain to your patients that you're late because you were too busy looking at yourself in the window!" A smug look took over his face as he saw her fists clench. Curses could be heard under her breath the rest of the way to the infirmary.

Groans and cries of pain reached her ears before she opened the door. Once inside she busied herself with a wounded archer. The man had lost his right arm and a lot of blood. She could tell he wasn't going to survive as she took a seat next to him. His labored breathing was harsh and the ashen colors of his skin were telltale signs. "Am I gonna make it?" He managed to rasp out to her. "It's highly unlikely. You've lost a lot of blood and that torn off arm doesn't help matters." She told him wryly. His eyes grew moist at the information and weakly reached for her hand.

"Can you tell my family that I love them?" Jin nodded as she held onto his hand. The man started to cough and specks of blood stained her white robes. "My... my son is gonna be five this year." He coughed out proudly. She quietly listened to him ramble about his family until his life finally ebbed away. Gently closing his eyes, she stood up without a word and moved onto the next patient.

Avis, the senior healer, made his over to where Jin was bandaging a young soldier's arm. "Why did you tell that man he was going to die?" He asked curiously. Tying off the bandage, she stood up and faced him, her face blank of any emotion. "People die all the time. Why give him false hope in his last moments only to be disappointed as death takes its hold of him?" The elderly man shook his head. "That last shred of hope is something they can hold onto. Leaving a man to die in despair is a cruel wish." Moving away from the patient, she made her way past Avis. "I don't plan to lie to the people I take care of. In the end you can only do so much and when your skills are not enough to overcome death... that false hope crashes down on you as well." The ederly man frowned as he left Jin to care for another soldier.

Blood saturated his clothing in several areas, forcing her to gently peel it off. "Nice claw marks you have there. By any chance did you forget to use your shield?" The soldier glared up at her. "What do you know of battle? I fought hard and had my shield knocked away from me early on." Jin slowly began to clean the claw marks on his leg with alcohol. She ignored the sharp intake of air as the soldier felt the painful burning sensation. "Be careful woman! I didn't survive only to have you kill me in here!" The young healer began wrapping a bandage around the soldier's leg wound, and tied the ends off tightly causing him to cry out in pain. Smiling sweetly in responce to his murderous glare, she continued on to the next wounded guard.

[ 08-10-2006, 04:18 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

[mistral4543]

There was something in the way Altair made his announcement that he found disturbing. Remaining silent for a moment, he tossed and turned his assessment, his eyes fixed upon the youth's face.

He speaks the truth, but as briefly as he can. That was some consolation, he supposed, compared to if Altair had lied blatantly. That would have been the end of all discourse. For he was not quite sure that his own anger would not have gotten the better of him, had that happened, and sent the youth out of the house.

But what struck him particularly was the attitude of the boy he had seen growing up a decade ago. Altair was still feisty, though not in Robyn's overt way; he drew strength from silent defiance or innocuous detours instead; just like he had run away from home without a head-on argument.

Defiance. That was the word. He showed no sign of remorse for what he had done. And what aggravated matters was his relationship to Robyn. Gerald's jaws tightened as the memories of his daughter's sleepless nights and suppressed misery came back to haunt him.

He's not good enough for her. The foregone conclusion that Robyn still loved this reckless wanderer - and a ruthless criminal at that - was not lost on him. He closed his eyes painfully, but knew that no matter how he tried, he could not blot this reality. I'm not giving her up without a fight.

Yet the effects of a punishing battle in the morning, followed by the emotionally draining experience of witnessing his disloyal wife's demise were kicking in. Not feeling up to the task right now, he smiled grimly at his foresight of suspending judgement until the next morning.

"Thank you for your honest, though brief account." He chose his words carefully, as both of them arose from their seats. "You are tired, I am sure, and frankly, so am I. We shall talk more tomorrow." Nodding formally at Altair, he rested his hand on the lad's shoulder as he passed him by, calling out for the servants to show Altair to his room.

[mistral4543]

OOC>>> In case any of us are losing track of time (which I am, at times [img]tongue.gif[/img] ), here is a quick stock-check on where our characters are at the moment:

Day 1 evening (reference point)

Rehan arrives in Alesbridge.

Day 2

Rehan explores the forest, meeting Gatha along the way. Shortly after, Robyn charges into the forest out of spite. There, both of them meet up with Esaha. A brief fight with the forest ensues, ending when Esaha saves Rehan and the three of them head back to Alesbridge.

Meanwhile, Gerald has taken off to rescue Robyn but ends up seriously injured by Gatha. He is brought back to Alesbridge late at night, and Robyn moves him to a less occupied wing (west) of the manor.

Day 3

Robyn assumes leadership of the city to allay confusion and fear. Meanwhile, Rehan and Esaha take time to rest themselves.

Later that evening, Altair kidnaps Robyn and takes her through the forest. They are attacked by a lioness, and escape through a storm to safety in an overhang by the hill.

On the same evening, Gatha dies. Yasmine, Gerald's wife, reveals her coolness towards him after discovering his condition, and provokes him to commit suicide. Esaha not only rescues Gerald in time but heals him fully with unknown powers; the ordeal completely drains her.

Before Esaha passes out, she alerts Gerald to the attacking forest beasts. Gerald summons his troops and Alesbridge prepares for a battle amidst a storm.

Day 4

Altair and Robyn take an entire day to walk around the forest and back to Alesbridge in a safer route.

Gatha discovers her "suspension" mode and heads elsewhere seeking answers.

Esaha awakens and receives nutrients and a good bath after her 3-day ordeal. She sets her sights on seeking more information on her condition from a local magical arts- user.

At night, Altair and Robyn finally reach the Mehlingard residence where Gerald has finished interrogating Altair for the day.

Meanwhile, Rehan and Sean are resting in the northern wing along with the wounded soldiers and Algori is one of the healers attending to them.


There... I hope I've covered the key events; let me know if I've left anything important out

[dplax]

OOC: thanks for the resumé of events so far! It definitely helps! [img]smile.gif[/img]

[Deiter Leafblade]

Altair nodded to Gerald as he was taken away to a room. He could see images of him and Robyn as children run through the halls laughing and sneaking around getting into mischief. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought of the story he relayed to Gerald moments before.

Why was he not being completely honest with him? Didn't he want to change? His eyes were downcast as they reached his bedroom. Opening the door, he wondered what he was doing the last time he was in a room such as this. Kidnapping your childhood friend. Altair shook his head, slightly amused. He had been reckless with that, and Robyn almost caught him. Circumstances would have been rather different if she did.

Closing off his thoughts, Altair climbed into bed and watched the ceiling above him. Even after all that happened in the past day he couldn't fall asleep. Being in a room such as this, in Robyn's home, made him feel uncomfortable. Realizing it was no good; he made his way out of the bedroom and to the gardens.

It was beautiful to watch the scenery in the moonlight. Sitting against the manor wall, he made himself comfortable as the familiarness of sleeping outside crawled into him. Before long he had dozed off into a restless sleep.

[ 08-10-2006, 01:28 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

[dplax]

After having asked the servant for directions she could almost feel his eyes devouring her as she went to take a bath. The warm water welcomed her body and after several minutes of scrubbing she finally felt that the dirt and grime of the last few weeks, and indeed months, was finally washed off.

She did not linger long in the Mehlingard manor, for if she wanted to see the magic user whom she had been recommended. There had been a knowing look in the servant's eye, when he had spoken the name, but Esaha had been unable to decipher the meaning behind that look. She considered telling Lord Gerald where she was going, but decided against it when the guard in front of his chambers told her that Lord Gerald was having a private audience.

The streets outside were still soaked from the storm and not walking in puddles of rainwater muddled by blood was almost impossible, yet somehow, Esaha managed to keep her shoes relatively clean. Unwounded soldiers and townsfolk were cleaning up the mess from the night's attack, pileing up the carcasses of the dead beasts in front of the temple. Esaha guessed that there would be a bonfire to burn the bodies later that night.

The small home she reached, following the servant's instructions did not look like what she had imagined a mage's home to be like. When she was still young and her father had taken her to visit other magic-users, their homes were always richly decorated and much bigger than the one she was standing in front of. Those men she had seen in her early years had used their magical powers to gain public recognition and through their exploits were able to afford the homes and lifestyle they kept.

A simple exterior was not going to discourage her, and determined, Esaha went up to the door, and knocked firmly, two times.