mandrakeandsage

[mandrakeandsage]

If You Want Me

“.If you want me.”

 Such a strange question,

Asked by your sublime mind,

That thoughts and emotions,

The nature of the soul,

Shared to the world.

A banner unfurled.

 “.If I want you.”

 Sleeping, Dreaming,

Memories yet created filling the void,

A sundering betwixt reality and the surreal,

Juxtaposed across a sea of stars,

Falling into a still frame,

Imagination is to blame,

 “.If I want you.”

 I hold my breath,

A million sparklers lit, a brilliant spectacle,

Light cascading around me,

Enveloping, embracing,

A Burning crescendo,

A dynamic forzando

 “.If I want you.”

 Shadows, silken shadows grow,

As the scorched embers die,

Revealing your beautiful essence,

Naked and vulnerable,

I’m am left asking what I should do?

So I give my answer to you,

 Yes,

I want you.

[mandrakeandsage]

All my characters are on Balmung!  Poke me if you see me!  LFRP!

[mandrakeandsage]

Carrd for the lovely S’vara!  LFRP!!!

[mandrakeandsage]

New carrd for my character A’Keshi.  Looking for RP!

[mandrakeandsage]

Meet the Girls

"Brin McKernish of the Clan McKernish," long red hair frames a pretty half elven face as she bows low, a harp on her hip.  She begins to play and sing softly, a beautiful alto voice that captures your heart and makes you think, "Sara McLaughlin is awful… "

Enter her sister, Shannon.  A hood covers her head but stray red strands leak out around her chin. Dark green eyes regard you as she joins the song her sister has begun, singing a counter melody.  A white fox rests in her arms, stroking itgently while she sings.

Then yet another comes, "Teagan," she says before putting a tin whistle to her lips and playing along with Brin's harping.  Her hair is the same as her sisters, but where Brin is Lithe and Shannon is short, Teagan is taller than the both of them and has a sword on her hip and by her posture, no one would doubt she could use it.

The McKernish girls... Fiery, Mysterious and beautiful.  But not to be trifled with.

[mandrakeandsage]

Lucky FC Performance on Balmung - Performer Viola Sevile

[mandrakeandsage]

The Eve of Quiet Calamity

“Each star has a story,” she said as she rubbed her feet looking up at the night sky.  The fire flickered casting deep shadows on the faces of the younglings, their ears twitching as they listened to Mjel weave her tale. “Tonight’s story is of the star Asje the Spearwalker and her star is right over there,” she pointed up to the night sky to a bright shining star and smiled as the children gasped in awe.

She told Asje’s story as it had been told to her as a youngling and she hoped it was as vibrant to them as it was to her.  The Spearwalker was her favourite, even though she herself wasn’t very good with one. But Mjel had other talents which made her useful, that is if she wasn’t being clumsily underfoot.  Awkward and fumbling were words that described the young Viera well.  Her people had learned to give her a wide berth when she walked past, less something got knocked over, or toes were stepped on.

“And so, when she passed from this world, she joined the other heroes in the sky, becoming the heart of the Bole so that everyone could see her and know her strength.” She pointed out the various stars which created the Bole as the younglings cried out in astonishment as their eyes saw the astrological design.

“Now younglings, off to bed, for it is late and the morning comes!” she said giggling as they scurried away past her, one knocking themselves flat as they struck her leg. She helped them up and sent them on their way shaking her head watching them scurry to catch up to the others.

Taking a deep breath, she added a log to the fire and looked back up into the sky as she stretched her lithe body to get the stiffness out of her limbs, her hare-like ears twitched and she let out a sigh.  It was that moment the ball of fire streaked across the sky westward.  The world around her blurred.  Peering through a haze, she could see Metal automatons, moving through a battlefield thick with smoke and the ground was littered in the carnage of battle.  She saw, clearly the body of her sisters Seja and Asla staring blankly up at the sky. Garleans, the men of the North had killed her sister.  

Mjel panicked, falling to one knee, her breath short and her head felt like it would explode.  The pain was excruciating, blurring her vision.  She tried to stand up again, it was then that world around her blackened and she saw nothing more.

***

She blinked. Mjel was on her pallet looking up at the ceiling.  Her head still hurt and she winced trying to sit up before collapsing back.  She put her arm across her eyes and took a deep breath wondering how long she had been unconscious.

“You’re awake,then?”

Mjel turned her head, lifting her arm up to her forehead.  Her grandmother was seated next to her.  The wizened Viera smiled, “You gave us quite a scare young lady. Vilmet found you and brought you here.  You were pale as a ghost! What happened child?”

Mjel sat up on her elbow wincing and squinting as she shook her head, “I had finished telling the story of Asje and looked up at the sky…. “, she paused frowning, “I saw Seja and Asla Grandmother, they are in danger.  I must go to them.”

“Seja left the Wood, Asla left the wood,” her Grandmother said flatly her ears falling back, “It was their choice.” The topic of Mjel’s sisters was always a sore point with her Grandmother.  The Viera were of the Wood and it had been that way since the dawning of the ages. To leave the Wood, meant leaving a part of yourself.

Mjel took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  She knew that her decision would be met with resistance.  From her Grandmother, from her Mother, from the tribe.  She bit her tongue and said nothing more.   The vision was clear in her mind.  She must travel east, find her sisters and that meant leaving the wood.

“I’m really tired Grandmother,” she said rolling onto her side.  

Her Grandmother smiled and patted her shoulder, “There, there child, we will speak more of it on the morrow. Rest well.”  The older woman rose from her stool and giving one last look at Mjel she sadly smiled shook her head.  She then left the girl’s hut.

They day passed, as Mjel lay on her pallet.  Some of the younglings came in and checked in on her.  They giggled and spun around, much to her amusement.  It wasn’t long before the shadows of the evening came, sending her tiny hut into twilight.  She waited, gathered her things.  Her astrolabe, her walking staff and clothing.  She hefted her poncho that her grandmother had made her, she frowned as a bought of self doubt crept over her.  She shook her head.  The vision had been clear.  She needed to do this if only so that her sisters would live.  Her sisters were reckless at times.  That was when they weren’t fighting with each other. She sighed, stepping out of her hut and into the night air.

The sky was filled with dark clouds and she could sense the rains were coming.  She walked softly, heading down the long rope bridge which connected her home to the forest floor.  Her ears pricked up and she could almost feel the forest protest her decision.

“You are going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Her Grandmother stood at the end of the bridge, her arms folded beneath her breast.  

“I…” Mjel stammered, “I thought it best to just go.”

Her Grandmother sighed, stepping forward and put a hand on Mjel’s shoulder, “I knew the moment you mentioned your vision, that another of my Granddaughters was soon to be leaving.”

Mjel’s bottom lip began to quiver, and her ears drooped, “I’m sorry Grandmother,” she said softly, “I must go.  Seja and the others…”

“I know Child, listen.  The wood speaks to all of us in different ways. If you must go, you must go.  Know that you will be missed.  I hope someday we will see each other again.” The older Viera wrapped up her Granddaughter in a fierce hug, “Now go, before I change my mind and tie you to your bed.”

Mjel laughed through her tears which wet her cheeks, “I will do all I can to come back, with Seja and Asla.” She said kissing her Grandmother, then reluctantly pulled away.  Walking into the darkness of the night.

[mandrakeandsage]

Mjel Arda -  Seeress and Adventurer

[mandrakeandsage]

The Door

Mjel laughed as her audience clapped along and singing the final verse as she played along on her harp.

We sat an’ waited, As he hesitated, Pondering how to begin, The Half Orc scoffed, The rake he coughed, His lockpick jammed right in,

Waitin’ on Dyvan, Waitin’ on Dyvan! As he takes time, I make up this rhyme! Waitin’ it on Dyvan!

Everyone laughed and clapped with lots of “encore, encore” being shouted out by a few of the drunken patrons though that had been her second encore, and Mjel was quite tired by now so she laughed and shook her head as the crowd quieted down.  She walked over to the bar, and sat down just as the barman brought her drink over before waving at a new customer.  Ulscaleer, the portly proprietor of the Fiery Flagon sat down next to her.

“So, can I book ye for another engagement?”

“Of course!” Mjel said smiling warmly, “I’m glad that I’ve grown such an astute following.  I’m going to have to make up some new songs at this rate.

“Aye lass, that ye will,” Ulscaleer chuckled, “So next week we got a spot for you, same time same place if ye want it.”

She took a sip of her wine and nodded, “I would very much enjoy that.  The crowd was most generous and pleasant tonight.  At any rate, I look forward to performing again.  Now, how about that other matter we had discussed earlier?”

Ulscaleer laughed good naturedly, “Well, a promise is a promise, and you did bring in a tidy sum for us tonight.  Let’s say, two gold instead of the full five?”

“Always a business man, consider it done Ulscaleer, I more than made that tonight in tips.”

“When you’re done your drink then, aye?” Ulscaleer raised a quizzical bushy brow.

Mjel nodded and downed her wine.  She poked Ulscaleer in the back, just as he turned away, he looked at her and chuckled, “Ready,” she giggled.

“Wait downstairs in the cellar.  I’ll be along soon,” Ulscaleer said as he turned back and walked over to a man giving him a big bear hug of a greeting.

Taking her cue, Mjel turned and went into the back and down the stairs leading to the cellar.  What she didn’t expect at the end of the staircase were six burly armed men standing amidst the provender and ale casks.

“Nice job Bard,” one of the men grumbled, “I hope ye can make it next week.  Where yer goin’ t’ain’t be a pleasant place.”

“Uh, oh… thank you,” Mjel said giving her head a nod.  It was all that was said between them.   The men had the look of grizzled vets, no doubt sailors or even pirates who knew the business end of a sword.  There were rumours of Ulscaleer being a pirate himself, long retired now.  He he had been the proprietor of the Firey Flagon for as long as anyone could remember and for some folk that was a very long time.

“Sorry to keep ye waitin’”, Ulscaleer said as he skipped down the stairs and nodded to  two of the men, “Lift the bar, we have a payin’ customer.”

The two men moved towards the barred door and hefted the heavy metal cross beam away from the door and a third opened it, “Here you go,” Mjel said handing Ulscaleer two gold as he asked for, and turned towards the door.  Taking a deep breath she stepped into the dark corridor.  The door was quickly shut and barred again.  If she had any misgivings, it was too late.  She turned around and pulled out her seeing stone from her pack.  The corridor bent to the left up ahead so she began the trek down into Skullport.

[mandrakeandsage]

Unicorn Run

Rylen knelt down resting on her knee, taking cover behind a curtain of sharp brambles. Her quarry was just beyond them. She could hear his breathing, ragged and hoarse as he tried desperately to catch his breath. Crouching, she moved slowly, quietly attempting to sneak up and take it unawares. She smiled, its back was to her, the long horn pointing the other way and it was brilliant in its white light. She crept up then ran the last few steps landing on the back of the unicorn. She nearly burst out triumphant but the powerful beast she straddled lurched forward and she scrambled to take hold of its mane.

It was a part of the rite to mount one of these beautiful and rare creatures. The woods became a blur as she tried to remain on top of the galloping unicorn, it bucked, it twisted and turned trying desperately to dismount the tangle of red tresses and woman which had so inelegantly perched herself on its back. Rylen held on, desperately clinging to the mane, but without a saddle she flopped around like a rag doll until finally she had to let go, and she tumbled to the ground sent sprawling onto the dirt and leaves.

Rylen breathed hoarsely, the wind had been knocked out of her. She moved slowly, testing her limbs to make sure they weren’t broken. All seemed fine so she got up slowly, her head swimming and her eyes unfocused and she sat down. She turned her head and blinked. Ten yards away, the Unicorn stood as though tempting her to ride him again, she shook her head, and tried to stand up again, this time taking a knee first then slowly rising to her feet. She walked, wincing from the scrapes and bruises she now noticed. Her breeches were torn at the knees, and her tunic at the elbows. She sighed looking at the Unicorn, “You could help you know,” she said out loud, to which the Unicorn snorted indignantly, but didn’t turn away. Instead it moved closer, reality transforming around it until a man stood where the creature was, his hair was white and he had a small, bone circle where a horn would have been

“And you expected me to do what exactly?” he said leaning against a tree, his eyes regarding her curiously.

Rylen’s jaw had dropped and she blinked from the sheer shock of it all.

“You’ll catch bugs with your gob like that, Red.” The man said giving her a nod, “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I am, Melkanen.” He said with a sweeping bow.

“Ry… Rylen” she stammered.

“Well, now that we are acquainted, let me be the first to welcome you into the Order of the Unicorn. That is what you were attempting to do, with those shenanigans you pulled. Don’t tell the matron, but you stayed on the longest of all the girls I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Rylen could only stammer, what was happening? Was this even real?

“Well, I’m going to be off then, toodles.” The man shifted reality again and was once more a unicorn. He reared up, showing off and walked off into the woods.

Rylen sat back down on the mossy forest floor. The moonlight filtered through the trees and she stood up feeling more herself. She looked around and sighed, “No one’s going to believe me…” she said and started the long trek back to the cottage.

[mandrakeandsage]

Pillar on the Plain

The wind blew quietly through the tall grasses causing them to bend and sway, a dance of forgotten soldiers who lay buried beneath the ground.  Two armies had clashed here a thousand years ago.  They had trampled the grass into the ground, leaving behind a bloody wake.  The pillar stood where so many men had died, a last vestige, forgotten and eroded into a shapeless stone.  Its purpose lost to antiquity.

The shrill cry of a hawk bit across the lonely land as a rider meandered through the fields, his hand holding his stomach where a knife had struck true.  He knew he was dying.  His breathing was shallow, his vision blurred.  He coughed weakly one last time before he tumbled out of the saddle, then crawling the rest of the way to lean his back against the pillar.

The man drew his last breath looking up into the sky which was a piercing azure, with nary a cloud to mar the horizon.  He thought about how much he loved the colour blue, that he would never see it again. He thought about his life, how he had never married, nor had any sons to call his own.  He closed his and darkness claimed him.

Silence stretched around where he lay, broken by the soft rustle of the wind’s passing.  The sun slowly dipped behind the Larkspur Hills casting long dark shadows across the moorland.   The hours passed from evening into night, the twin moons Valesha and Tiron, brother and sister who’s domain in the sky always dominated the night.  While Valesha waned, Tiron waxed in a never ending dance across the night sky.   They cast their eerie light upon the pillar who’s shadow now spread across the man’s corpse like a gnarled finger.

It started as a whisper, a song being sung by a single mournful voice.  The white haired woman walked slowly towards the pillar, singing softly.  She was naked save the knife that buckled around her waist.  She lifted her dusky arms skyward and continued to sing, louder stronger. It was a powerful magic she was calling upon.  Beads of sweat rolled down her body, over her breasts and belly, though the night was cold. Ever louder she chanted until she brought her hands down on the pillar and for a moment everything stopped. Then a loud crack as the Pillar split in twain releasing what was held beneath.

The Faldir woman smiled, her teeth bright against the pitch of her skin as her red eyes regarded the ever widening hole where the pillar had once held sway.  Then came the cries as a thousand and one spirits were released to fall into the void, the dark remnants of powerful magic undone.  Magic meant to keep him buried.  

The man’s body stood, His face gaunt as he looked around with fell eyes.  Their baleful glow looking upon his mistress before shambling away, his undeath assured.  She started a new song.  A song heralding the one they called Plethis, the Dark One, the Blackthorn.  A giant, five fingered, clawed hand rose up from where the pillar once stood, then a head and at last, a body, scaled and horned with a visage scared and battered yet holding savage nobility. He smiled at the woman so small in comparison to him..  He finished pulling himself out of the pit.  Spread his wings and flew into the air and was gone.  A few minutes later only silence remained, the wind blowing softly across the grasses.

She smiled, for she had done what her mistress could never have achieved.

The Therondy had been sung. The end of the world had come.

[mandrakeandsage]

Reflection

The morning sun had barely crested the horizon as Dora was taken from her holding pen down to the docks where she was shuttled up a gangway and onto the Serpent Wish.  Sailors swarmed about the ship as they prepared for launch while Dora was lead down into the ship’s belly where she was shown a plainly appointed cell, “This is where you will sleep.  You will be fed three times a day and a chiurgeon will see you twice a day. Weather permitting you will be allowed up on deck once we are under sail.  Do you understand me girl?”

Dora nodded once and stepped into the cell.  Other than a pallet to sleep on and a chamber pot to relieve herself, there was very little else in terms of comfort.  The floor boards were clean though the air was stale smelling of dry wood and packed preserves.

“Bring your chamber pot up with you when you’re allowed on deck.  You can dump it then.”

Dora again just nodded.

“Lastly I’m Master Moor, you will refer to me as Master.”

Dora looked back at him.

“They said you had fire,” he chuckled, “And I’m not going to be the one to break you, little dragon.  No, that will be up to your Master in Valencia.” He tuned and left the cell, closing the door behind him and snapped a lock into place, before leaving her.

Dora rubbed her eyes and sat down on the pallet, bringing her legs under her and her hands onto her lap. The ship swayed ever so gently and groaned a bit whenever it brushed up against the dock.  She could hear the sailors joking as they worked, some whistled bawdy tunes while others hummed.  She closed her eyes and proceeded to find that space taught to her so long ago by her father, that place of reflection, of inner calm.

Where had things gone so horribly wrong?  Dora thought long on this question, her eyes closed centering her envisioned inner light. She had returned home from a trip to the capital, a summons by the Emperor so she could be brought before his son, as he had his pick of noble ladies within the realm.  She was thankful that the Kami had destined the position of “his betrothed” to another.  He was an ugly brutish thing, a warrior, but he seemed to her, lack a sense of honour. She was sent back home only to discover the family estate in flames, her family killed.  She almost took her life having had blessed the tantõ and prepared it for seppuku.  Lacking a second, she was determined to end her life and the line of the Akiyama clan. But, something stayed her hand. It would not move despite the will, she looked down and saw his hand, her father’s hand, translucent and iridescent holding her arm firmly, he shook his head no and his voice carried to her ears, “Seek the man known as Takara.  Avenge us.”

 Dora armed herself with her father’s sword, her brother’s horn bow and took up her spear. She buried her family in the vault, as was tradition, made harder as she had to do it on her own.  After a few days of mourning she set out, determined to find the people responsible and kill them. Only then could she appease her family’s spirits.  Only then could she take her own life honourably.

 Her travels had taken her into the west.  Into lands foreign to her.  Few spoke her native Hassian, so she was glad to have learned the common trade tongue of these lands.  Dora’s father had left nothing to educating his daughter.  She had studied other cultures and revelled in the stories from faraway places.  She had learned martial skills with sword, bow and spear as well as hand to hand fighting. Her years had been filled with learning and many had considered her to be the Prince’s first choice, again she thanked the Kami for him wanting another.

 It was frustrating trying to track down Takara.  He travelled very fast.  He ever stayed anywhere longer than two or three days at the most.  Dora was weeks behind him but closing slowly, steadily on meeting him.  She didn’t know if she had to kill him or not.  But she knew he was the key, the key to vengeance.

 Dora had been on the trail for weeks, before the trouble started to happen. The well-ordered lands of Balenos and Serendia were behind her, she had entered the rough lands of Mediah, sparse grasses and trees matted the land weaved between rocks and cliffs.  It rained very little in Mediah and the cloudless sky had a hint of brown added to the blue.  It was here that she had the run in with the farmers – come bandits who wanted to wrest her blade from her.  A few days later she was captured by Kedic and his slavers.

 Dora had bedded down for the night, her eyes barely closed when a shout and torch light surrounded her.   She quickly got up to her feet, her blade in hand dodging a man and striking out at him quickly searing his back with the blade. Twisting around she caught another man in the throat before she felt a heavy blow against the back of her head and the world disappeared.

 She woke up in a covered wagon, bound and gagged, in a burlap shift.  Dragged out and put on display like a prized pig, she was sold.

 Dora opened her eyes.  The ship had started to rock more as it was now underway.  The voices above were far more serious in tone than they were.  She sighed and laid down on the pallet. Somehow, she needed to escape. She needed to reclaim her family’s honour.  She needed to find Takara.  She hit the side of the hull with her fist and growled in frustration.  

 Or, she would die trying.

[mandrakeandsage]

Lost Honour

“She’s damaged,”

“Well she put up a good fight,” the dark skinned giant crossed his arms and spat into the dirt, “Took out a few of my boys before we were able to down her. “

Dora winced and squinted. She had been stripped of her armor and clothes replaced with a burlap shift cinched at her waist by a rough piece of rope, her hands were bound in front of her.  A heavy iron collar chafed at her neck, she tugged at it growling.

“Careful Kitten, “The dark skinned giant cooed, “We wouldn’t want to damage you anymore than you already are. “ he then turned and looked at the other man, “So, one gold bar should cover my losses and be a fair price for this doxy, aye?”

“Half bar, no more… she’ll have to spend time recovering from that wound– if she recovers.  Don’t waste my time Kedic”

“She looks worse than she is,” Kedic said, his hands opening up, “no broken bones and the sniper took her clean through the shoulder.   There’ll be little to no scarring if you care for it right.  C’mon Hideki, you know she’s worth 10 times that at least when she’s recovered.  She’s one of them fightin’ women from Haso.  Gimmie a bar and I’ll toss in her armor and weapons.”

Hideki paused, “May I?” he asked Kedic who just nodded.  Dora felt hands move along her arms then beneath her shift to squeeze and test her breasts.  She turned her head and could just make out the shadow of the man behind her.  His fingers were calloused from sword use and she flinched.  No man had touched her bare skin in such a way before, “I will kill you.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Oh so she does have fire,” Hideki looked down at her and laughed, “Alright, a bar it is, and as for the armor you can keep it, but her weapons I want.  Have her shipped to Valencia.” He knelt down beside Dora and she could smell spices mixed with sweat and fine oils.  The grooming of a nobleman, “Do you have a name girl?” he asked smiling.

Dora decided she was not going to dignify this one with an answer so she sat silently, eyes downcast.

“Then I shall call you , Kaji.  It’s such a good name for a little firebrand like you.” Hideki said then walked over to Kedic, “Here is one bar, I will give you an additional three upon her safe delivery.”

“You are most generous Lord Hideki,” Kedic said formally and bowed, respectfully, “He snapped his fingers and pointed at Dora, “She’s spoken for.  Get her processed.  We sail on the tide tomorrow.”

Two men bowed their head and jogged over to Dora.  Lifting her to her feet, she groaned as she took her first stumbling step, her stride restricted by the knotted cord about her ankle..  The men pushed her along over the hard gravel which cut at her bare feet making her wince with each step.

By the time Dora was herded into the warehouse she was glad to be out of the sun.  They pushed her down onto some straw filled cushions and told her not to move. She watched other girls and men come and go, other slaves lead by chains.  She had a hard time thinking of herself as one but here she was, bound and chained, the daughter of Akiyama Masumura, Last of the Akiyama clan brought low.  Shame gripped her and she shuddered as tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks.  For the second time in her life, Dora wished she was dead.

 Kedic came in through the doors and walked over to Dora, “We shall ensure you get proper medical care on board the Serpent’s Wish.” He said looming over her, looking down, “You are a prize m’dear.  I’m sure if we get you fixed up you will garner us at least another 10 bars on your arrival in Valencia.” He laughed, “Such good fortune for us that we found you.  Now be a good girl, and behave.  I would hate to punish you unduly.”

[mandrakeandsage]

Memory of Sakura

Five men stood ready, weapons out encircling the woman who regarded each one of them calmly. Her hand rested on the hilt of the ancient blade and she set herself, digging her feet into the gravel. The dry, hot wind sent dust eddying around their ankles and pushed wisps of her hair across her brow. She had expected this, she was prepared for this.

They had watched her from the moment she had entered the hostelry, or more so, the blade which was at her waist. She had grown use to the stares after a time. She was a foreigner after all in a land where those from Haso were rarely seen. Mediah was also a land not known for its hospitality. There was however something about those five which gave her cause to worry. She knew that when she left, they would follow, and nothing good was going to come of it.

“Give us the blade,” one of the men spat, his Median accent slurring the words together as he shrugged his broad shoulders as a way to loosen up, “We may even let you live – after we’re done with you of course.”

If his words bothered her, the serene countenance she wore gave nothing away. She continued to keep her hands on the weapon, one on the sheath, the other on the hilt. A quiet tableau. She could smell each man, hear their coarse breathing which was spurred on by their excitement. The grinding of a boot into the gravel set her into blurry motion. The ancient weapon sang as it was drawn from its sheath.

Each strike was offensive, whether it was a blow directed at a man or his weapon. She struck out and parried a clumsy attack, stepped aside, and filled the man’s skull in with the her hilt. She then twisted quickly away from another, her blade singing, carving easily through flesh and bone. The man who smelled of pig offal had over reached and was left clutching what remained of his arm as he shrieked in pain and disbelief while falling to the ground.

The three remaining men stepped back as the woman held her blade at the ready. They looked at each other, turned and ran. She stood unflinching for what seemed like an eternity before swinging her blade in a quick arc to remove any blood, then sheathing the weapon in an almost ritual reverence. She pulled up the broad brimmed jingasa from its resting place on her back and tightened it to her chin. Turning, she looked at the man who held the remains of his arm. He would no doubt bleed out before he managed to return to Tarif and get in touch with a chirurgeon.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking up at her.She picked up his sword, looking down at him for a moment before pushing the weapon through his heart granting him a warrior’s death.

“Akiyama Dorisu” she said as the light faded out of his eyes.

She looked around and sighed, then picked up the cloth wrapped kerispear she had dropped before the skirmish and continued on down the road that lead to Altinova 

1

[mandrakeandsage]

So much fun!

Dogs Freaking Out Over Fall (see 7 more)

[mandrakeandsage]

Hot Rolls with Bacon

Seridan looked at the mess of cloth which sat across from him in his study.  The young woman, who he did not know the name of sat there fidgeting , a requested hot roll with bacon in one hand, looking around his study.

“Nice place m’Lord,” she said looking up at him from beneath her hood taking a bite out of the roll and chewing it for a bit.

“Yes…” Seridan said looking at her oddly, “My men said that you’re well met, but you don’t look like a Duskman.  Tell me girl, why are you here?”

“Well…” she began through bites making noises of pleasure at the taste of her food, “I was trying to kill the Death Priestess and that didn’t go as planned, then I bumped into this guy named Ed who helped me kill a revenant.  A little while later I was minding my own beeswax, eating a glorious hot roll with bacon, much like this one, when he nearly ran me over while he was trying to tail a washerwoman, who it turns out isn’t a washerwoman at all, but the Lady Alcorro who he says was visiting the Death Priestess.”

“Ed?”

“Yeah Ed, yay tall,” she said showing the height with her hand, “wears a black hood, thinks he’s god’s made and knows it all.”

He looked at her, she had described Ebon, so the message came from Ebon, “And you are?”

“Mm – Ash. I’m Ash”

Seridan knew from the moment she spoke it was an alias but pushed that aside, “Why would Ebon,” he said emphasising the name, “Ask for you to come here?”

“Well he says you can get this message to Dusk, about the Lady … her name was a colour… Cerise! That’s it!  He says that she’s the Lady Alcorro... that’s the High Lord’s name, isn’t it?  Well she’s been visiting the Death Priest a lot.  Probably bringing all the ingredients she needs too.”

“Ingredients?  We were under the impression she was there to meet with someone.”

“Hells no,” Maeve said sitting back in the chair, licking her fingers, “She isn’t just a Death Priest, she’s The Death Priest.  She’s the embodiment of her Goddess.  Her being here, well, let us just say that Carthine has been marked as the center point to the Therondy.”

“And you know this, how?”

“Well, you could say I’m a Priory Hunter.  It’s my task to try and stop her, or at least, since the Prefect is ill and all, it’s up to me to do it.”

“What?” Seridan had never heard of this ‘Priory’.

“The Faldir woman, is evil incarnate, an enemy of the Dragons and a servant to the Dark One. She has to be stopped but Ed… I mean Ebon thinks that sitting there watching her door and those people who come and go from there is the best way to do things.”

“I see,” Seridan looked at her as though perhaps she was a little insane, but he shrugged, “No matter, I will get this message to Dusk.  My wife may have more questions for you.  Until then, you shall be treated as a guest.” A guest who’s not allowed to leave Seridan thought.

He stood, inclined his head and left his study.  He had to find Amaranthus, and quickly.

[mandrakeandsage]

A Cruel Joke

“Can you believe it?” Major Grieg Isen looked at his fellow officer shaking his head, “No not at all. I mean, he never struck me as the marrying type.”

“Well it’s certainly coming as a shock to IDS.  Maybe with him being married Alderaan will open up to someone more suited to the task of dealing with House Thul.” Captain Jacen Rawlings said taking a sip of his drink and smiling over at the petite pretty blonde woman who wore an Imperial Special Forces Uniform.  She couldn’t have been older than 25, but judging by her plaque, she had the rank of Commander.

“Now now, I know you want a more heavy handed approach there, but Evanz has done a marvelous job with his methods,” Isen said, also taking note of the woman.  He smiled at her as she looked up, “Commander,” he said motioning to the seat beside him, “Would you like to join us?”

The woman paused for a moment looking at the datapad, then nodded as she collected her things to take the seat next to Isen, “Thank you,” she said her soft high Kassian accent flowed as she spoke, “It’s always better to sit with company.”

“Indeed!” Rawlings said holding his drink while he gave the new arrival an appreciative once over, “I’m  Jacen Rawlings, and He’s Greig  Isen, we’re part of the 14th Fusiliers, Artillery Division.” He moved his hand indicating his fellow.

“That’s Major Greig  Isen,”

“Donovan, Commander Mairéad Donovan,” she said, giving them each a nod.

“Well Donovan, what has you on Vaiken? “ Greig  asked taking a sip of his brandy.

“Well, I cannot really say. Black Ops.  You know the drill.” Mairéad said giving a small shrug.

“Ah we know better than to pry then!” Jacen said giving Greig a nod.

Mairéad’s brow furrowed, “So what’s this about Envoy Evanz?  He’s getting married?”

“Can you believe it?” Grieg said looking over at Jacen, “I know I can’t.  Every woman on Alderaan was chasing after him.”

“Ain’t that the truth. I hear he’s marrying a Sith though. They probably threatened his family with death and dismemberment if he didn’t agree to it.  Poor sod.”

“Be careful there Jacen,” Grieg said giving his head a shake, “You know that the Sith do as they will, and there’s very little we can do to stop it.  Isn’t that right Miss Donovan?”

Mairéad shrugged, “No, there really isn’t.” she said giving a small laugh.

The three of them talked for some time.  Mostly about the war against the Republic, and how that was going.  Each of them talked about their time on Corellia, and how the Sith ruined any opportunity they had of holding the world with their petty infighting and power plays.  Finally Mairéad stood up, “Well gentlemen, my ship should be refueled by now, and I have a mission to get to.  Enjoy the rest of the day cycle.”

She made her way through the complex lift system arriving at her hangar much earlier than she had anticipated.  She walked past the droids who were finishing maintenance on her starship, The True Arrow, “How much longer, “She asked the maintenance droid who was overseeing the operation.

“Another half hour or so Mistress,” the Droid said, his mechanical voice echoing off  

“Please inform me the minute the ship is ready.  I want to be out of here.”  Mairéad said then walked up the gangway making her way to into the lush lounge area which was her living space.  She took off her boots and sighed flopping down onto the plush sofa.  The news hit her harder than she thought it would. Cayle Evanz was getting married.  It must have been some kind of cruel joke, but she was certainly not laughing.  He had sold her a pack of lies making her believe in him.   Believe in them.  She obviously wasn’t good enough to for him to have a relationship with her that was open for all to see.  She was a convenience, and the moment she stopped being one was the moment he cast her aside.  She had given him her whole self, and it had taken her the better part of a year and a half to get to where she was now.  She now saw him for what he was, no longer blinded by his soft words.  He was a social climbing shark.  It was him who told her to avoid the Sith.  Yet if the rumours were true it was a Sith he was going to marry.  The hypocrisy of it all bothered her more than it should have.  A part of her though was still his.  It always would be and it gnawed at her like a rabid animal trying to get the last scrap of meat off the bone.

She reached over to the spirits cabinet taking a glass and a bottle she filled it with port and sipped it slowly, enjoying the smooth sweet taste of the liqueur.   It bothered her, he bothered her.  His supposed happiness bothered her.  Cayle Evanz, the man she knew would have never put himself into a position where a Sith would be a love interest, let alone someone he would marry.  To know the man, the way in which she knew him it did not make a lick of sense.  Unless of course there was some sort of game of shadows involved.  That this upcoming marriage was based on a bunch of lies and misinformation in order to allow him to get close to this person.  There was always that.  The Cayle Evanz she knew was incapable of love.  He made that abundantly clear to her.  

Getting up off the sofa and stretching her arms above her head she walked slowly over to her HoloNET terminal to turn it on. She sat back down, setting her drink beside her.  She had some research to do.  She was going to find out all she could about this Sith bride, and if she posed a danger, well, it would not be the first Sith to meet their end to a lone sniper.