theirishduelist

[theirishduelist]

I sigh in both relief and frustration at myself for being so stupid. Maybe the cold has really taken a toll on me. I had been in many situations like this and never had a complications so I don't really know where this worry was coming from. I relaxed and just put my faith into the two sisters.

I feel you two put your under my legs and prepare myself for the rotation. I rest my head back and let you rotate me carefully. You are greeted with... no cuts. The only thing on my back was a small circle. About 3 inches in diameter. Its really hard to tell what it is exactly but it defiantly was a wound. After a few seconds of this spot being exposed to the heat I twist my head around and ask sternly "Aye what the hell are ye doing back ther-" but suddenly the spot grows. It looks like it sprouts out from the edges like tree roots and pull my skin apart. Blood squirts but the blackness quickly covers the newly opened wound. I cry out and cause a thousand obscenities and some tears form in my eyes

"HOLY LORD IN HEAVEN IF FOOKIN BURNS!" I grab Toasts hand and squeeze tightly. My swearing is interrupted by A terrible cough and wheeze. "D...do somthin...please" i say between coughs and wheezes.

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

Unfuck tomorrow morning

Wash the dishes in your sink

Get your outfit for tomorrow together, including accessories

Set up coffee/tea/breakfast

Make your lunch

Put your keys somewhere obvious

Wash your face and brush your teeth

Take your medication/set out your meds for the morning

Charge your electronics

Pour a little cleaner in the toilet bowl (if you don’t have pets or children or sleepwalking adults)

Set your alarm

Go to bed at a reasonable hour

[theirishduelist]

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

I frown at the news. No fencing? For how long? God this was going to kill me in mpre ways that one. The looks on both of the woemens faces caused me great concern. I glance outside amd see the pinks amd oranges. It reminded me of all of the flowers that grew on my farm. I take a deep breath before takeing the bottle and chug it. I set the near empty bottle down and look at Toast.

"I need about two more of your oldest bottles of wine and a small but thick piece of leather," I point to some thread and needle

"And hand me that piece of thread and needle. I can stitch myself plenty well"

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

"Dont we all?" I say to your first comment. If anyone I wished we would have met under better circumstances the most. I drink the cup and prepare for the lifting. When it does happen it takes every fiber of my being to not cry out from the pain. When I lay back on the clean and cool muslin I let out a sigh of relife.

"You know you could go to the local tavern and get stiffer drinks" I say as I take a big swig out of the bottle "Because as you know, we Irishmen have a stronger gut when it comes down to drinks" I smile but it quickly turns into a frown when you begin your sewing again. I turn my attention to Sister Josephine

"Hey Sister Josephine, how do me legs look? When could I resume fencing?"

I lift up my left arm and place it over my forehead and I await the news.

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

"If the cold was also 4 brigades" I mutter before wincing in pain as you begun working on the gunshot wound. I take the cup of wine and gulp it down. I sigh with relief and the semi-decent wine trickles down my throat.

"The name is Raymond. I am just a duelist from Ireland who..." I take a deep breath when I saw my shredded legs

"Oh lord, thats not good." I say with a little more volume and you notice the heavy accent. You also notice the abundance of other scars on my toned chest. I peel my eyes off my legs and look back at you

"Well, thank you Sister Toustain and Sister Josephine" I nod to both of and hold the empty cup up

"May I have another cup of wine?"

Your voice is so comforting and soft and delicate as your hands. It confounds me and I cant help but stare at your hooded face.

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

The prayers where as involuntary as the images that flashed before my eyes. I saw and heard an old man with a calming but commanding voice explain how the littls Hamlet was once his and how he destroyed it.

Since I have been in many fights before, I was used to being stitched up. But soon I was coming around again when there was a faint tingling sensation coming from my back but a more intense buzzing feeling from my legs. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the two women working over me.

"Thank you..." I say almost running out of breath. I lay my head back down and look up at the ceiling. My eyes followed the very delicate architecture of the building as I felt the fire defrost my aching bones. I thought over the vision of me witnessing God, or someone acting as God. It puzzled me that this is where my destiny was, a destroyed Hamlet that was literaly the only barrier between their world and ours.

"Ladies.. I belive there are more... scars on the back" I say between breaths

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

I calm down and sip the wine but instantly look away from you and spit it out

"Wot the hell is that?" I bark but groan in great pain. I clench my chest and begin to wheeze terribly

" Fuck me, been shot n' stabbed. Get me a damned doctor" I manage to spit out before turning a deep pale. I clench my eyes shut and pain shoots through my whole body. Behind my shut eyes I see the man again with his shadowed eyes. I dont remember the white figures but it doesnt matter when I fall unconscious. Blood oozed from a gunshot wound to the shoulder and I have several slashed on my front and back along with stab wounds. My legs have been shredded pretty badly by what seemed to be a blast from a blunderbuss full of gravel.

As I slumber I begin to murmur Catholic prayers that if one did lean closer one would here the chants clearly.

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

I groan weakly when you pick me up but its inaudible. After that I cannot feel or see anything, only a white haze. With my eyes closed I see vague figures shambling towards me as I assumed I drifted off into either sleep or death. I hear something in the distance... a church bell? No its sound too... mournfull? Its too faint to determine now. I see the figures approach me in a seemingly organized fashion. Their had no distinguishing features about them but I felt like I knew them from somewhere. I cant move, except for my head. I peer at the grayish white figures approaching me until the first one came a foot from me. I felt a warm feeling come over my body when it spoke to me in my mothers sweet and gental voice as it took my hands

" Oh Raymond, it seems that you got yourself in a bit of a pickle. Luckily you have these lovely ladies to help you recover." She used a hand to gesture towards her left, my right, and I saw a woman in frost covered clothes bent over what lookes like a corpse, and one could only imagine the shock I felt when the realization that the corpse was me. Breathing so faintly that I may as well be dead. Suddenly I felt my head pulled back towards the figure of my mother who says hurriedly

"Son, you need to live, you must complete you quest and save our souls from damnation, please stay alive."

She disappears and is replaced with a different one, same in look but different in emotion. I felt happy to see this one, like the kind of happiness you get when you see an old friend. It placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke in Patrick's professional tone

" Raymomd, I am sorry for the grievance I have caused you... but dont throw away your chance now to redeem us. We are so close to salvation and redemption. Please, for both of us"

I felt my heart ache at his words but I could not touch him.

He disappeared but none of the other figures approached me. Suddenly everything was a blood red and the figures manifested into all of the men I have killed this far both in and out of duels. Behind them arose a tall and powerfull man in a fancy red gown. He had a sharp, blackish grey, beard and combed back hair of the same color. It spoke in a condemning voice as he pointed at me

"RAYMOND! THIS HAMLET WILL BE YOUR NEW ROAD TO SALVATION AND REDEMPTION OF ALL OF YOUR PAST SINS! TAKE BACK YOUR BODY OR BE DAMNED TO HELL"

The bell from earlier was now ringing clearly in my ear. They where the bells of doom. The souls of the men I killed charged me but I suddenly found myself lunging for my mortal body. I jumped right into it as you touched my cheeks.

I gasp for air and say in a loud raspy whisper

"He has spoken to me! God has spoken to me!" I clutch onto you tightly and stare deeply into Toasts eyes with my dialated eyes. You swear you see the souls of the men I slew dancing and swirling in my eyes.

Red on White

[theirishduelist]

My body aches from head to toe almost from both the biting cold and the several wounds from a firce and short fight. I had no real winter clothes in my luggage but a thin cloak, a short cape and several days worth of clothes. After the fight I put on as many pairs of these clothe as I could before unhooking the horses that pulled the shabby carriage. Sadly both horses could not survive in the cold, especially at my moderate pace. For the rest of the journy I limped my way along the road until I finally came accross the Hamlet and saw a beacon of hope, The Church. I quickend my painfull limp to the gate when I saw a figure of… someone. My vision blured, ears rung, this meant the end was approaching. I heard the faint sound of a woman say something, but it only sounded like someone talking to me when I was submerged in water. I could feel my lungs expand and contract with a terrible wheezing sound. I manage to say in a raspy voice

“God… help…me” before stumbling and falling forward and land on my side. I cry out in agony as I look up and see, someone over me. My breath quickens and I think to myself “This is it, I have finally reached the end” I close my eyes and weakly smile.

Red on White

@theirishduelist

It’s a freezing night. Cold enough where even inside the sanctuary, Sister Josephine finds herself gripped in a near constant shiver. One of the coldest of the season so far, the roads freezing over into sheets of ice, a mist of rain turning into something slick and dangerous. Snow dusts the gravestones, icicles hanging from the crosses. Most of the denizens of the Hamlet have holed up in their homes, hiding from the bitter cold. The tavern is a glow of activity, the promise of the press of many bodies inviting for more reasons than one.

Toast is bundled tightly, a wool scarf and tough leather gloves meant for working in a garden adorning her hands. Her eyelashes are frosted, but her wary eye patrols the graveyard. Perhaps she was foolish - the ground was too hard for digging. But she had a feeling in her gut, sharp and cold as the ice itself, that she needed to be out there.

Or maybe that was hunger.

Regardless, she kept moving, her boots cracking through the layer of ice that had frozen on top of two inches of snow. Her trek through the graveyard was measured, her path trodden over and over. She thought that in five years they’d still see the imprint of her foot from how hard-packed the ground would be.

And then- a sight. A sound? A lone figure comes into view, stumbling and strange, scarecrowish in its movement. The vestal raises her lantern, squinting against the freezing air. “Hello?” She walks towards the entrance to the church’s graveyard, watching the limping, uneven movements. Injured? Drunk?

Then she sees the trail. Red on white. She rushes forward, putting forth a yell of “I’m coming! I’m a vestal, I mean you no harm!”

[theirishduelist]

Raymond Finely McGowan

Age: 35

Height: 6'4

Weight: 200 lbs

Items on person:

A rapier, parrying dagger, a regular cutting knife and a boot knife.

Pipe, tankard, money pouch, nechlace from mom

Wears loose fitting clothes, always wears a beret and has a cool ass cape on. His clothes are also generally dull colors, like brown and grey, but does have one set of black and red clothes.

Hobbies:

Drinking alone

Smokeing pipe alone

Reading alone

Fencing with everyone

Praying alone

Crying alone

Back story:

Lived in Ireland for most of his life. His father taught him how to duel before his father disappeared, leaving his prized Spanish cup hilt rapier. This inspired Raymond to advance his knowlage so he moved out from the country, leaving his mother and numerous brothers and sisters to tend the farm, at the age of 18. There he met Patrick, like Raymond their father disappeared and left them a sword, so they became fast and close friends. They studied fencing and dueling for 20 years, surviving over 30 duels of all types until one day.

A wealthy stranger strolled into the city they where studying at and begun demanding that they challeng him to a pistol duel. All declined because they belived pistol duels where for cowards and spinless rich ass holes. This stranger then begun lobbing verbal insults and hopped that someone would lose their cool. He was correct in that assumption because Patrick stormed out of the building and accepted the mans challenge. At twilight they commenced the duel and in the end, Patrick died. Angered by this Raymond went after the man but was ultimately unsuccessful. He then quit the school amd went down to Patricks home town to deliver the message of his death.

2 years later he hears that a man by the name of Richard Boise has killed 38 men in pistol duels within a 2 year period. Raymond follows the rumors and finds the man in a small village tavern. He immediately challenges him to a knife fight but he refuses. So Raymond waited until he stumbled out of the tavern drunk to brutaly stab him to death.

Now a plain old murderer and heart broken and with no where to go he flees Ireland and goes to Spain to continues dueling until he recives a letter from a strange, yet familiar, wealthy family asking for his help to reclaim their Hamlet. He packs up clothes, food and all of his gold and makes his way to the Hamlet with his trusty Rapier and Dagger.