Antagonist's Anarchy: Desolation in the Daylight - Chapter II (Open)

[dplax]

Nivram

Nivram grimaced at the thought of eating fish raw, but managed to overcome his revulsion and took a small piece of the 'delicacy'. He fully expected to spit it out in disgust after he tried it, but surprisingly he did not do so. He had to admit that it did not taste bad, indeed it had quite a good taste.

He nodded in compliment at Isokla, and took several pieces of the fish, settling down next to the fire to warm up and dry his still soaked clothes.

OOC: definitely not my own feelings towards sushi...

[Ivelliis]

Telryn Gale

Telryn, who had been watching the scene with the utmost curiosity, sat down and took a small piece of the fish. He ate it, surprised at the taste, and thanked Isokla.

"I have bread, and a few scraps of meat and fruit in my backpack, if anyone would like some?" He said cheerfully, looking at the people around him, "You'll have to dig a bit, it's probably squashed at the bottom..."

He lay his backpack down on the ground, bits of the platemail set he had looted earlier were falling out. The quicker they got to a settlement of some kind, the quicker he could get it fit for his size, and buy some supplies. Standing up, he pulled his cloak close round him; the wind had a harsh bite to it. He glanced at Ydalon and Isokla, before muttering "You'll be wanting firewood, aye?"

[ 04-08-2006, 05:55 PM: Message edited by: Ivelliis ]

[Legolas]

The fire burned brightly despite the ceaseless drizzle. It was not banked. The patterned tiles of the overgrown plaza brooked no fiery expansion, though the crackle and spluttering spoke plainly of its intentions.

The boy, young and hale, rested a hand on his companion's shoulder as they observed the shrine illuminated before them. It was their third night of vigil, and the familiarity of the sunken sight with its many mysterious inscriptions provided a constant pull towards sleep. Of a kind.

Around them, to sides and back, the scene was hidden by shrub and tree. A haphazard hedge of nature's offspring made of this a secluded, private space known only to those who should have knowledge of it.

It was his energy, his drive to see this through, that had kept them awake for more hours than they yet knew to count. Alone, she would have long since succumbed to the lure of flesh and spirit, and thus had he shown his worth so far.

A charge filled the air, as of a thunderstorm betwixt the trees, unearthly in its coming. Sudden winds whipped the fire, stirring awareness and unease. For but a heartbeat. Weary, drained of defences and reserves, both settled back into their wake.

Then there was the tug. He had no breath to scream, his voice unused for all too long as he vanished into the forest. She watched, too dazed to wonder, and slept.


Ydalon

Jerking into motion at a provocation unknown, Ydalon abandoned his motionless pose, and in doing so sent blocks of raw fish flying. His eyes were still adjusting to the light as he glanced about in barely contained panic, and his mind needed take one stride further still before it reaffirmed what had passed, that all seemed well.

The boy took one of the cubes from the soil and examined it a moment.

"Minerals, right?" he shrugged, and swallowed it down. The other blocks disappeared into his sling with a speed that spoke of sleight of hand, even if he'd made no efforts to do so covertly.

"Is there more of this?" he asked a moment later, as a half-grin crawled back unto his face.
Though he could only guess at the length of his absence, he asked of neither that nor of the words he'd missed. At his age, it took him just a shrug to put concerns to rest. Still... safest he didn't make too many bold comments before he'd the measure of the situation complete once more.

The fish received another look.

"Did you save the insides too?"

[Legolas]

Ydalon

His heart was slow in returning to its regular pace. He'd suffered musings and flashes of events in the past, but few so ill timed as to occur over dinner with 'his' group. It would not do to seem plagued or distracted in company.

Silencing his shockborn questions, the boy concluded his meal swiftly before excusing himself. Thinking on the raw fish flesh in his sling, Ydalon was almost certain it would not do. His fingers found the scratch mark on his hand even as he left the group's line of sight.

[Legolas]

Ydalon

When the boy finally crashed back out of the woods, he appeared much relieved. Certainly his not quite even grin was blazing, and he seemed but moments from abandoning his walk to a skip.
Moments in which he reached the fireplace.

"We'll have an interesting night," he announced.
"And I suppose you're wondering a thing or two."

The boy rubbed his hands, held them closer to the flames. They lent an orange cast to the dirt under his untrimmed nails.

"Like how come that youngster knows his way around, and what's this quarrel we're dragged into.
"And I figure I might as well indulge you."

Ydalon looked about the circle, gauging the effects of his words on the encamped wanderers.

"I am Ydalon, and my father's boroughmaster of Talryr. I won't never own a bit of it, but this is my land.
"The man is hard. He works hard. And he expects everyone does. And he's a lousy father. Distant. I hardly know him, but I've seen him, and learned. Mostly, what not to do.
"Where do you go when you're in your da's town with naught to do, at my age and then some less? I made myself friends, one in particular which I'm not ready to discuss. That one and I, we were a pair. Together when we could, and half the time we couldn't."

A wry touch crept upon his features.

"I'm sure you know what it's like. Despite having a wife, my father couldn't recall. It wasn't what he'd in mind and he let us know it. Broke some rule or what. The two of us, we wasn't going to stay and suffer that. About three days later and it was camping out of doors for us. And we travelled. I doubt he ever bothered to look for us, but why risk being dragged back? Travelled all over, learned the hidy holes and how to stay alive, kind of. There's your answer to the first."

He coughed, the last traces of amusement only barely lingering.

"I'm afraid I'm no talespinner, and the other half's uglier than the start.
"One day we risked a trip back to Talryr. Lost my friend along the way, but like I said. And if I thought he'd a temper before, that was like a trickle to the rapids. I suppose losing his wife and daughter, and potting up some years of frustration besides, is halfway of a pardon though.
"The wife's the more recent loss, dragged off by a group of thugs. I've doubts of meeting that one again, but I'll give you I enjoy crossing the ones what did it."

Shrugging, the boy concluded his monologue.

"It's not all bloodlust and vengeance though. That's for the blind, and they die soon enough. I try and see what's coming my way and plan for it. First, it's back to Talryr. Not to find my father, mind, it's preparation and supply work only on my account. There's more campaigning after that. Thought you might like to know."

[Calaethis Dragonsbane]

OOC: Backtracking a tad – and then moving on.


“I – yes,” Isokla answered Ydalon as he asked his questions, but he had disappeared already. She sighed and shook her head, wondering exactly what she had let herself in for.

After he had gone, the girl rose, discarding her own prepared food and wandering away, down towards the river. Leaving without a word, her bright blue eyes were distant, perhaps thoughtful. Scooping up her satchel, she set it on her shoulder and slowly walked away from the camp fire. By now, it was quite, quite dark and the stars were twinkling in the sky.

Should any accompany her, she shook her head at them insisting she was to be left alone. With her ever present satchel, there was no trace she had been preparing food only moments earlier save for the rest of the fish. Whatever was troubling her she gave no clue to as she made her way to the river in silence. Wandering along its bank she eventually found a grassy spot overlooking the reeds and bulrushes and seated herself gracefully. For the longest time she stared at the crystal black waters and the reflection of the starry sky, watching the ripples of the gentle waves flow with only the barest smile touching the corners of her mouth. It was such a peaceful and beautiful night, the girl decided, her thoughts shifting to those of her companions.

‘Out of all of them, Nivram troubles me the most. He seems… the most human. He certainly has issues, but at least he seems to be sorting them out. It is good to see a sense of humour within him. Of Detheriel, well, he seems to be an all rounded person – he does not seem to have any immediate insecurities or complexes. Telryn seems… a little odd, as though one never quite knows what he is really thinking but he seems to wish to go with the flow of the group for the most part. No, Detheriel and Telryn seem almost docile in comparison. Nivram is certainly quite the character. Strong in his own way. At least he stands up for what he believes in…

…And finally, there is Ydalon. He seems… different. Distracted. There is more to this than he is telling – more than any of us realise. Star charts. He knows more. I wonder how much he knows… …could he suspect? No, none of them suspect for a moment. It would not be possible, and yet… well, we all have our pasts, our histories. Let them see mystery that is not there, if that is their want. I will not do anything to change their minds. It is better that none of them know and indeed, why should they?

Oh Kagarioni, I have failed you. My foolish student. You were not even a friend, and yet, you chose your own path.’

Isokla drew out the golden coins that her former student had given her and turned them in her fingers before replacing them back in a small leather belt purse which no one had known she possessed before. ‘But it was your own fault you know child. I warned you. I would not force you upon any path, and you chose what you believed was right – and paid the consequences for it. It was unfortunate you did not have a chance to learn from your mistakes, but you knew the risks you were taking. There was nothing I could have done…

…Ydalon. It always comes back to you, doesn’t it? You got that child killed, but it was her choice to follow you. How many more will die for you? Will they even realise it? The secrets you hide – are they worth it? Only you will know and when the time comes, you will account the cost of your pride and actions.’

Isokla no longer cared for her train of thought and sided, her smile having faded completely. Idly leaning forward and plucking a small golden-white flower, she turned it in her fingers and then wove it in with her hair. A single flower set in silver hair, lit up by the starlight and reflection from the water. Her reflection stared back at her and she blinked; she looked younger than she thought she did and the way her hair had fallen was quite flattering. Isokla found herself smiling in amusement; very rarely did she take the time to consider herself and her looks. She had always known she was pretty, but never paid much attention to it. There had always been other issues… more important things and vanity was just a little shallow. Her smile was also pretty, she decided admiring it for the first time in as long as she could remember.
‘How many had been charmed by it? They stare at me, at my eyes. Some even called me a ‘water nymph’ once. A compliment, followed by ‘water lily’ (one poetic translation of my namesake); ‘Silver ice-lily’; ‘Water opal’; ‘Shining sapphire’ and ‘moonstone’. All of these I’ve been compared too. Young men trying to woo me and always trying to have what they cannot get. How long has it been? I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember. I’m never going there again. ‘Silver ice-lily’ was pretty though, as was being compared to an orchid. No one will ever associate me with that again…’

Her smile had dropped for the second time. ‘Orchids and lotus no matter how pretty they are are always associated with …those girls or… worse. Crimson Orchids or Dark Orchids are a title I would sooner forget. Never again do I want to hear those words in unison. I’ve seen enough of their impact to last a lifetime. I doubt any here will even know the flower. Posion flowers they are. Venomous. Like the treachery of a serpent.

Flowers, metals and gems – ’ the girl sighed aloud, ‘It is a wonder that none of these have named me such. That fool – that self pitying bigot that claims ‘noble’ origin – even he has not had the gall to woo me such. Those at home put him comparatively on a level with babes as far as his subtleness and techniques go. It would almost be amusing – perhaps cute, if he were not so persistent and full of himself. I am surprised he is not dead yet. Him and that other one. Foolish children. ’ Isokla found herself sneering and stopped. ‘I don’t want to ruin tonight’s serenity by thinking of them. Solitude is all I need; the calm peaceful air…’ she shivered. ‘I should be getting back.. before the others worry. If they even notice I’m gone.’

The girl sighed and rose again, making her way back slowly to the camp, gliding with a swan-like grace as she picked her way carefully along the riverbank and retraced her steps. She arrived in time to hear Ydalon’s bold "And I suppose you're wondering a thing or two."

Isokla did not say a word, waiting until it was all over. When it finally was, she nodded slowly and suggested softly, “That is all well and good, but I wish to retire. The night grows colder and shortly, the dawn will be upon us. Five or six hours from now and the first rays of the dawn shall touch the sky. The midnight point has already gone.”

Without another word, the girl moved to the far side of the camp fire and began to set out her bedroll, not bothering to pitch a tent and within moments, she had set up her sleeping place with practised efficiency. “Tomorrow we shall depart and arrive in this town of yours,” she addressed Ydalon, although it was more of a statement. “We shall see what happens then. Although, I would prefer if we stopped at an inn – a bath would not go amiss.” she paused and smiled, perhaps to take any sting off her words, “But until then, I bid you all a good night.”

Isokla slipped out of her sandals and put them at her head beside her pack, her satchel firmly beside it and within seconds of her head touching her pillow, her eyes were closed. She was still fully dressed – perhaps she expected trouble? – but with her fur-lined blanket tucked right up against her chin, no one was any the wiser. That was, no one who had not seen her beforehand. The girl seemed peaceful – as though in sleep, the authoritative air that surrounded her was lifted and replaced with a calm serenity that only enhanced her appeal. Her breath was steady and she seemed to trust her all male companions…

~~~

When the morning comes, the group shall leave and two hours down the road encounter a wounded man fleeing four bandits, all armed with knives and swords, while a fifth lagging behind carries a bow. But until then, the protagonists are free to discuss with Ydalon what they will until sleep takes them…

---
OOC: Edit. I really should proofread my posts. Fixed a grammar/spelling typo.

[ 04-15-2006, 08:03 PM: Message edited by: Calaethis Dragonsbane ]

[lost prophet]

OOC: the following should be around an hour and a half after the rest of you start off in the morning.


Eruwin

Eruwin was running.

He could hear the heavy boots of his pursuers as they sped through the undergrowth not 15 yards behind him. He could hear their laboured breathing as they tried to maintain the speed he had set, a speed that was rapidly decreasing due to lack of blood. The young man could feel the numbness spreading in through his side as the wet patch of blood beneath his armpit began to grow, causing his brown tunic to stick unpleasantly to his skin and his mind to swoon and faulter. He cut left under the low hanging branch of a tree and cried out in pain as his ribs grated together painfully, gasping he continued running wildy, desperatly trying to find help but knowing that in a forest of uncountered leagues, help was few and far between.

Eruwin could not believe it when the four bandits had broken their cover and come charging over the clearing towards him, he could not believe he hadn't noticed there approach and had cursed savagly at his mindless day dreams. As the would-be attackers had born down on him he had done the only thing he could have done...he ran. He was a man who prided himself on knowing his limitations and he knew he was no match for four fully armed bandits, let alone the one with the bow who had suddenly appeared at his side during the first moments of his pursuit. Again his carelessness cost him, as he had ran the bowman had quickly knelt to one knee and loosed his shaft at a distance of barely over 12 metres. Eruwin had heared the bowman stop and had thrown himself to the side, but not before the shaft had ricocheted off the top of his ribs, there had been a crack and an almightly bolt of pain down his left side but he had just managed to keep going, just.

Over twenty minutes later he was still running, and still loosing blood. He thanked the stars above he had spent so much of his life mainting his body as he knew many a lesser man would've already succumbed to the pain he had sustained. Grimly however, he admitted to himself that even he did not have long before he had to stop. He unsheathed his short swords from their leather cases at his sides...and ran.

[ 04-28-2006, 02:24 PM: Message edited by: lost prophet ]

[shamrock_uk]

Detheriel

Detheriel nodded in sympathy at Ydalon's story but didn't offer up any sympathies, knowing they would not be appreciated.

Curling up for a nights sleep, Detheriel reflected upon the meal Isokla had prepared - surprisingly palatable after the little packages had been cooked in the embers of the fire.

Closing his eyes, he easily drifted off to sleep, the sound of his snoring carrying quietly across the camp.

-----------

He awoke feeling much refreshed and after washing his face in the stream quickly packed up his belongings. After stringing his bow and arranging his equipment, Detheriel waited for the slower members of the group to break camp. He smiled as he looked at them all; somehow he had a feeling this would be a good day.

[ 04-21-2006, 09:30 PM: Message edited by: shamrock_uk ]

[Ivelliis]

Telryn

Ydalon's story was an interesting one to say the least, but he was glad for it to end so he could get some rest.
He first removed his chain linked shirt, laying it down next to the spot he had chosen to sleep on. Then he removed his cloak, before lying down on the cold earth and wrapping it around him. His bedroll had be "misplaced" a few days before he had been forced together with these people.
The sound of Detheriel's snoring was the last thing he heard before his eyes closed, sending him peacefully into the land of nod.

--------

Telryn woke as he had the past few mornings, the sun glaring in his eyes. He looked around the camp to see only Detheriel awake, or at least the only one up. He yawned, grunting a "Morning"[/b] at Detheriel before walking down to the river.

Telryn removed his shirt and splashed his face with some of the cold river water, waking him up instantly.
He wandered back to the camp, letting the morning rays dry his face and hair.

"A good morning, looks like it will be a nice day today," He said quietly to Detheriel, trying his hardest not to wake the others.

[ 04-22-2006, 10:14 AM: Message edited by: Ivelliis ]

[dplax]

Nivram

Nivram nodded when Ydalon had finished his story. He thought that there were obviously parts which had been left out of the young man's story, some for not being interesting, others since Ydalon was not a fool, and would not tell everything about himself to a group of strangers.

Everyone started preparing for sleep, yet Nivram did not feel the weight of fatigue weighing down his eyelids.

"I'll watch during the night," he said and was greeted by Detheriel's snoring. Looking around he could see that most of the others had also been claimed by sleep, while Zakaria and Keal had been strangely silent for a long time. Whether they slept or whether they simply sat there deep in thought Nivram could not know.

Nivram pulled his pack closer to himself, and stripped off his shirt, laying it on a branch next to the fire, so that it could fully dry. He took a thicker, gray shirt, the other half of his shirts from his pack, and slipped into it. The night announced low temperatures, but next to the fire a shirt would suffice, Nivram knew from past experiences of spending nights in the wild.

It was times like this, sitting alone, with no one to talk to, that Nivram went through the worst parts of self-doubt and self-questioning. His mind suspected very strongly that he would never see his sister again, but his heart did not want to believe it. It was thus, torn between the voices of his mind and feelings of his heart that Nivram had first turned to drink.

Even three days ago one could have called him an alcoholic upon seeing him leaning against a bar with several empty bottles in front of him. Every night, in every village where he went, Nivram drowned his sorrow along with his own sanity into drink. Had he not met with this group, he would have probably been in a tavern or an inn, or even worse passed out in some dark alley.

Nivram could feel the lack of alcohol. It had been the one medicine, which could make him temporarily forget all of his wordly troubles, which could make him feel remotely well. He hadn't had a single drop since he had joined up with this group.

He knew that depression was not his only problem. Given the slightest opportunity Nivram would be slipping back into the welcoming darkness of drunkenness, wishing to forget all of the wrongs which happened to him. His hand moved towards the side pocket of his pack. The pocket where he always kept a bottle of strong spirits. The bottle currently there was an already half-finished bottle of very cheap whisky. The taste was not good, the hangover horrible, but the alcohol content high.

Nivram knew that he should not open the bottle, but even before he knew it, his hand had slipped inside his bag and withdrawn the bottle.

In the morning, the first to wake, who was Detheriel would have noticed Nivram, who was supposed to have stood guard during the night calmly sleeping next to the embers of the fire, the empty bottle still clutched in his right hand, and a smiling expression on Nivram's face.

[ 04-22-2006, 11:10 AM: Message edited by: dplax ]