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Post by Jones on Jun 7, 2010 20:28:13 GMT -5
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: -A down trodden wreck of timber and straw caked in day old blood would be the first of many similar sights seen throughout the village. Despair hung like a thick blanket, trapping those who remained under its merciless weight. With a gray overcaste, an odd sight illuminated the rabble gathered in the town square. For here could the sounds of laughter be heard. Children clinging to their mother's skirts with oversized grins of delight. Sparkling buds danced with glee as the riddling figure at the center of attention motioned at each of them, acting a part. A full regalia of plate armor hardened his features, yet rosy cheeks and a cheerful demeanor
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: brought a sense of charity to his otherwise bland features. Only his visage could be seen, though judgements could be assumed by the heavyset armor he wore, no doubt he was muscular and agile - trained to wear such demanding armor. Clearly the tale was at an end as the crowd began to disperse, but there was hope there. What little hope could come from these shattered lands full of woe.-e-
MAXIUS BLACK: The play had inspired hope in most, of course. That was a given based on the smiles among so many of the former audience, but there were a few that had stood grim and silent, too lost in the depths of reality to take any kind of relief from the brief humor the player had attempted to bring to this lost village. --- One such man was a brown robed figure, who stood alone, hood raised, watching as the crowd dispersed. He continued to stare at the makeshift stage, making no move to leave. -c-
MAXIUS BLACK: The hood hid whatever face might be there in its shadow. But the figure was short, standing at 5'4", and thinly. A pack was strapped to his shoulders, resting against his back. --- Even after the crowd had totally dispersed, the figure remained, as if waiting for something.
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: -The commanding figure had seemed taller and more impressive until the crowd thinned to the point that it revealed a short man. Nearly five feet, stout and diginfied in poise. A two-sided axe hung not far behind him. What appeared to be the remains of a hovel, barely clinging to life in the ragged wind. Loose and tattered fabrics whipping in the wind, as the dwarf turned heft that great axe. Spinning it in his hands, digits gripping it fiercly as though caught in a memory. Eyes became distant, even the short stubble of a beard seemed to ease as the wind died down. Chestnut hues slowly crawled back to life. A knight such as he was -c-
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: not an uncommon sight in these parts. Even without a steed, it was said unmounted knights unequal opponents. With a sigh and another look around, noticing the few who still stood as though transfixed by the harsh reality around them, he trudged off in the direction the wind blew. He must not forget what had brought him here. After all, only a Paladin could heal these wounds.-e-
MAXIUS BLACK: It was a surprise that he was a dwarf, rather than a man of full height as he had seemed. But it didn't matter. --- The figure watched the dwarf begin walking. The figure drew the brown robes tighter around himself, futily shielding himself further against the wind, and began to walk after the dwarf. He didn't want to draw attention to himself just yet, if he could help it. He had to think it over how to approach the dwarf... To get him to understand. --- He would follow at a distance, trying to match the dwarf's pace.
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: -The footsteps would go unnoticed for some time. The wind howling about the more than covered the noise each step carried with it. The chinking of the armor, plates moving in and out of place as each joint clanked with each passing movement, it was a long while before the Dwarf turned and set his gaze upon the forlorn looking soul. "I did what I could." The accent would seem strange coming from a dwarf. No slurring of words that was usually -c-
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: accustomed to such. He spoke perfect common, as plain as anything you would expect from a man double his height. "There is nothing more to do. I have come here to do a job." To end this madness he said. By the Light he would.- -e-
MAXIUS BLACK: The figure stood about the same height as the dwarf. When the dwarf stopped and turned, the figure continued to stride up to the figure, stopping a few feet short, and listened to his words. Once the dwarf was finished, the figure made a slight movement of his head, as if in acquiesence to what the point the dwarf was making. And when he made his reply, his voice was low, neutral, but full of purpose. "Listen, friend," he started. "A job I only wish to aid you in. There is a great evil here. Perhaps more than you know of."
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: -If it where true the person standing before him was to aid him, than he would see the knowing look. Those hues of amber, caked with speckled gold sparkled in the strangled light of the fading day. Paladins were a rare occurrence. Even more rare was the Paladin that let on that he was a Paladin. In these troubled times, even the hint of someone having been chosen by the Light, it was enough to bring back fond memories of the despots that claimed divine right. Children were told fairy tales relating to the current times. Of the tyrants that claimed the Light had granted them infalliable power. Guiding the populace through them. That sort -c-
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: of tragedy had brought upon this ruin. An infestation of rot in the government, or what now passed as one. No a true Paladin was a champion of the people, there to serve as the Retribution of the Light, to act as the Holy duality that both healed and banished those who would look upon its humble servant. Though bushy brows and a half shaven face may of put a pall over the visage, no doubt it was shining and stirring with hope. "I have no need of help. Your services would be put to better use here." The runic symbols adorning his steel armor,-c-
TITHRALDOR ANIMUS: the holy symbols adorning the knee joints, the all familar cross. Any Knight could be seen wearing such fine arms. Nothing but those peircing eyes could give away what he truly was.--e-
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Post by Jones on Jun 7, 2010 20:29:22 GMT -5
The figure wouldn't be turned from his purpose, despite the dwarf's doubt.
"Your intentions may be pure, dwarf. But they are aimed at a minor part."
Maxius Black raised his hands to the hood and swept it back, revealing a clean-shaven young man, looking no more than 19 or 20 years by human standards. His hair was black, and cropped short, in a military fashion. But his skin looked too smooth and young, and his height--too short, for him to be the soldiering type. It was hard to tell anything else about him on account of the fact he kept the brown robes tight around him.
"Trust me, sir."
His own eyes looked piercing, their gaze not abated by the amber fires that stared back at him.
"My help would be a welcome to you, if you would but accept it."
The dwarf might be able to tell that something set apart Maxius from the normal villager here. Perhaps purely from the way his speech seemed unhindered by the local dialect.
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Post by Shadows on Jun 8, 2010 11:34:01 GMT -5
-The dwarf said nothing. Making no motions, visage clear and swept free of emotion. A peculiar hum could be heard then. Or maybe it was only heard by the fellow standing across from the dwarf. A very distinct hum. No, maybe it was a scream. Vibrating through the cold air as night crept over them. Allowing the axe shaft so slide between his fingers, bending at the elbows he brought the blade cleanly into the crust of the earth. The sound stopped. "My path is not your path. Do not be discouraged by thes words, while you look resourceful, again I say, you'd be better put to use than following me around. I follow in the wake of that which inflicts nightmares upon these lands." As the silence would settle over the parting words, the Paladin offered a faint smile before hefty the mighty axe over broad shoulders. Turning then, he made off in the way he had come. No doubt the man would follow. At his own peril. No doubt to even more tragic, and brutal end than that of the village. Such was the forge heroes were fashioned in. Perhaps, just perhaps he could be wrong.-
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Post by Jones on Jun 8, 2010 11:55:40 GMT -5
The annoyed look that followed the dwarf’s words would only reveal itself once the dwarf had turned. Maxius wasn’t used to being put off by just anyone. He knew that the dwarf was perhaps, someone of high stature based on the armor the dwarf wore, but Maxius’ pride wouldn’t allow him to understand that, or keep an air of politeness.
“Fool.”
It would bark from Maxius’ lips, quick crisp through the cool air. It helped that there had been something discouraging in the air… A small, vibrating scream it had seemed. Nonetheless, even though Maxius attempted to ignore it, he could feel his grapple with keeping an air of perfect calmness being lost.
“I know where the evil you seek out truly sits and works its influence upon the village. Go ahead and do as you feel best, but when you feel ready to hit the evil at its most vulnerable point.”
Maxius would give a slight shrug, and then briskly stride after the dwarf, ignoring the dwarf’s suggestion.
“You may be right, sir dwarf. But instinct tells me to stand by you. You are not the only one moved to meet the village’s plight. I will stand beside you to help, no matter how unwanted the aid may be.”
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Post by Shadows on Jun 8, 2010 13:46:23 GMT -5
-The small, beady eyes narrowed in amusement. Even if they couldn't be seen, a smug expression worked itself over burlap features. Concealed by the increasing dark shadows provided by the loosening grip of light, the terrain growing more rugged as they two trekked further away from the still smoldering ruins. Sure there was a rot festering beneath. Paladin's had been trained from an early age to hone a very critical skill. That of sensing taint where none was physically evident. No doubt this would be companion had come to fill him full of information in the hopes of getting something he desired. Clearly the axe had an objection to this notion. Cursed as it was, it still hungered for those of the damned. Even so, a Paladin's job was rigid. You could not take life without first trying to save it. The fact the axe hungered for this soul, was more then enough reason to redeem it.
As the last vestiges of the sun dried away all hope, giving birth to the gloom that brought bone deep cold, they stopped. Coming upon a forest, only the faint warm glow of a hissing fire could be seen from this distance. A figure appeared to be dancing around the flames, though as they came closer, it was evident the tiny being was cooking something. The smells inflamed the air, permeating the very area with a rich aroma. Whatever it was, the Paladin quickened his pace, it smelled delicious. Vufant could be trusted to keep the camp nice and ordered, even procuring their meals from the wilds around them. Devastated as the land might be, it still yielded to those who knew where to search. Tiny ears pricked up as the silence was broken by the clanking of his metal suit. "Master Poignant has returned!" A joyous little creature. Jumping on both stick sized legs, clothes oversized and patched with many different colors.
An assortment of reds and greens, mixed with a yellow patch or two making up the sock on either foot. Three green fingers poked out of the shirt which drooped below knees, shaking wildly as the little creature danced. Large almond shaped eyes, serpent slips surrounded by sulfur yellow liquid, shined through the night. Poignant, the Paladain, waved his recognition. "Hello Vufant. Made it just in time for grub."
A knowing grin was displayed, the light from the fire warming his features, softening them. Vufant ran up to the giant sized Dwarf, placing a hand on his shoulder, a quivering finger rising to point at the shadow not far beyond. "Master, we have..." He was cut off by a gruff sounding Poignant, "Nothing to worry about. A guest for dinner I suppose. I'm afraid its worse than I thought. We'll need to venture into the forest tomorrow morning. I'll need double the potions." With a sigh he moved to a stool, set off to the side of a rickety tent. Sacks of grain and adventuring supplies lined a wagon. Not too far could be seen the two oxen who pulled it. Marvelous creatures. Obviously well kept. -
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Post by Jones on Jun 8, 2010 17:19:19 GMT -5
Maxius followed the dwarf without pause, nor trepidation. He was used to having his way. It’s just how it was, for one of his stature. Although far from home, the place where that stature mattered most, Maxius just did not accept the idea that he may be looked at differently. He expected to be taken seriously, with whatever he said considered as the utmost importance. The dwarf’s differential attitude for him was more than simply rude. It broke at Maxius’ pride.
He was determined to never let the dwarf know that, NOR allow the dwarf to treat him as a naïve simpleton.
When they came upon the camp, Maxius took stock of it and paid attention to the littlest detail. It was obvious the dwarf was organized and prepared for the job ahead of him. And potions. What potions might the dwarf be referring to?
He stepped out from the shadows and into the fire’s light. The flickering flames intensified the blazes that resided within blue eyes, which watched this ‘Vufant’, who, apparently, was the dwarf’s property.
“A slave? I did not realize that a servant of the light would accept such services,” Maxius sneered. He glanced at the dwarf, a small grin passing across his pale red lips.
“I suppose anyone of any stature above ‘commoner’ cannot resist the temptation of convenience.” Maxius glanced back at Vufant, making eye-contact so the man would know he was being addressed. “How much does he pay you slave, or has he convinced you that serving him is a divine honor?”
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Post by Shadows on Jun 8, 2010 18:36:21 GMT -5
-Poignant was just resting upon the stool, not bothering to stare up at the young fool running his mouth. Had the man even bothered to listen or catalogue what and who he was talking to, he might of found his introduction a little less chilly. Indeed, before the last of his snide remarks could be heard, silence filled the air. A wand produced, a twirling of tiny digits, a coarse parade of words issuing from thin lips."I am no slave. I accompany Master Poignant because he requires my services. Who else. "he waved the free hand around." could take care of all of this? Make his potions?" Eyes danced over to Poignant, a benign gesture as a grin rose. A snort issued." Certainly not the likes of a Dwarf."And then eyes locked to the gaze of Max. Surely the man was trying to move his unresponsive muscles. Trying to speak, yet nothing issued forth. The spell was a quick and simple one. Easily manipulating the minds of those were open to such astral assaults.
Vufant had often used this on gentles, the so called gifted of society. So often where they weak minded and easily manipulated. With a sigh, the spell was released, though not before a dire warning was issued. While the Paladin seemed less serious than his companion, Vufant was now all business. The charming grin gone, instead that of a predator replacing it. "Mind your manners around my campfire boy. Here you are a guest. Don't cross that line again." With a wave of his hand, the wand disappeared and the spell fell apart.
Poignant was weary from the day. Hardships affected him the same way they would effect any other. Trying on his mental well being. Seeing the burned out holes. The shattered lives. Children without parents, parents with slaughtered children. The raped and maim. War never changed. A war that had lasted centuries, seemingly raging through the years, hopefully this was the last bastion. The cruelty of man had brought this blight upon the world. With a grim sigh, removing most of the heavy plate, setting them near the wagon, well within the radius of the fire. What was beneath was a tough leather jerken, craftman pants, though no tools adorned them. Perhaps a hint to his previous occupation. Finally he looked up. Clouds having cleared, the bitter wind having faded. Providing a recluse from the troubles of the world, a place where hope might spawn. "The stars have aligned in our favor. Let the boy eat in peace. He'll learn his place in due time." The tiny Vufant spit then, its ears droopy, very much like a dog's. "Very well Master Poignant."
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Post by Jones on Jun 9, 2010 12:45:35 GMT -5
Maxius knew that, at times, he could run his mouth with the best of them. The difference between him and most others, however, was that he didn’t necessarily pay attention to when running his mouth was smart, and when it was stupid. Maxius usually didn’t have to worry about it. Most of his life had been spent surrounded by subordinates, servants; some form of lower-class citizenry. Whatever he said was usually agreed with. Whatever criticisms he decided to press upon someone, went without being checked. But Maxius was far from home. In the past few months in being in the village, he had experienced a few harsh lessons for his manners and general lack of respect for others. Perhaps, three times would be the charm.
Vufant’s spell would take hold, but with a slight struggle. Maxius wasn’t especially weak-minded. He was ambitious, well aware of the kind of person he was, and determined with the goals that he had for himself. He knew he reached high, in life, and was every bit determined that he would get what he wanted. Maxius could feel the spell come onto him, but it had been too unexpected for him to take a moment to put up any kind of mental barrier. He felt frozen. Nerves and signals in the brain ordered different muscles to move, to do anything, maybe snap off one more snide remark, but there was nothing.
When Vufant released him, Maxius flexed, shutting his mouth, jaws clenching, and stared at the mage. For now, he was at least aware that it was probably best he held back whatever more snide remarks he wanted to make. And he also realized he had to pay more attention… He should have known better, with the way the camp was set, that it would have been done with great difficulty all by one person.
Maxius sniffed, glancing at the dwarf after he’d spoken. “Thank you,” he struggled out, muttering it almost beneath his breath before he stepped forward closer to the fire and took a seat on a log, rolling his head and rotating his arms to work out the tight feeling he felt in his joints… An after effect from Vufant’s spell.
“When did you arrive here?” Now would be the time to learn as much as he could of the dwarf and his companion. Gauge their purpose in being here. Whether it was as pure as the dwarf had given the impression of it being.
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Post by Samaena on Jun 9, 2010 15:46:08 GMT -5
Twilight. It had always been her favourite time of day, or evening as it were but this one brought with it an array of different emotions, verging on the joy and elation of being free and away from the caravan and prying eyes and rather large ears...and paranoia, of being left abandoned by the only man, if truth were ever let into the light, she truly loved. There was anger, no...fury at the thought that he thought that he could escape her. Let alone Father and the others. Amusement at the thought that if he truly thought he could get away with it she’d be there, dousing his flame, pissing on his cornflakes...and most definitely deflating his ego. She almost laughed aloud at that thought.
She had escaped, the shadows provided enough cover for her even at this hour. She had crouched low within the brush, using her silk cloak to cover her further had the need arose. Her faithful Shire would be waiting for her, grazing slowly on a lush patch of grass he’d stumble upon. This evening she did not wear her cloak, the weather was not unpleasant, or at least she didn’t think so. Instead the silk of her cloak was thrown over her shire’s haunches and she easily leapfrogged up onto his back. Crooning softly as she leaned closer to his head, asking him in a whisper to take her to her treacherous brother...Max.
It wasn’t long before she had caught up on his tracks, passed through the village with nothing but indifference, only looking for the most rare of herbs, just as Max should have been doing. Father had told him to look out for her and look after her and this is what she got? The fury within her raged on but the shire she loved so dearly merely plodded. They did not sneak or creep toward the camp fire she could smell before she even saw it. The food cooking on the wind only told her that someone was ready to eat...Max surely wasn’t that resourceful to be able to catch and cook his own food.
One thing Demonique loved to do and that was make an entrance. First impressions and all. However, she only had eyes on the dark haired head that had his back to her. Oh he’d know the look and the all to familiar burn of her fury...though her gaze did not longer upon him. Azure eyes straying from the leather clad man and his small...companion. Not a word did she utter but the shire was reigned in to a halt and nothing but the flick of his tail spoke of her irritation, unless her eyes had given it away to two total strangers. Either way they’d look upon a raven haired female, wonderful curls cascading over her bare shoulders. Azure coloured eyes that burned like the fire but with the intensity of a rage Max knew only too well. She was well dressed, long skirts that flowed about her, the smocked blouse she chose to wear off her shoulders. Gold decorative coins adorning the sash she wore about her waist. Gold bangles that clattered around her wrists and the hoops within her ears. It was plain to see she was gypsy, through and through. The look upon her fine features spoke of trouble...for the one seeking refuge about a poor paladin’s campfire.
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Post by Shadows on Jun 9, 2010 16:04:50 GMT -5
-Poignant was at first startled and then slowly amused by the sudden appearence of a raven-headed women. Black haired women were often a bad omen in his culture. Though the people in these parts exhibited dark hair quite often. Take the fellow that had followed to camp. Nothing was said by way of greeting. Clearly she had an intent on the young lad that had plopped himself on the log and began asking questions about business he had no business in being in!
With a gruff belly snort, a wide grin broke over a sea of flesh. "Welcome to my humble camp! This here, "A finger wagged at his tiny companion, "Is Vufant! and I," A twinkle in his eye now. "I am Poignant." another chuckled resounded. Quite a jolly fellow he could be. Even in these bleak times. Slapping his knee as he was still seated on a stool, he pulled a nearby fur over his shoulders, which soon took the cape of shape of a bear missing the head of course. "'Tis a cold wind tonight, eh Vufant?" The droopy headed fellow looked away from the boiling stew, having just stirred it before her arrival. Ignoring Max as Poignant did, the lad deserved no answer at this time.
"Sure is Master Poignant. Bad omens!"He continued to mutter the last bit, shaking his narrow face before returning to the food that had brought them all here. Giving it another stir, a sprinkle of spice here and there, he began to hum. Unlike the axe, it was a tune full of warmth and cheer. Poignant had resumed his gaze upon the woman and Max, sensing no threat for the time being. Obviously these were people who more than often dealt in shades of gray. Best to keep the axe at bay.-
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Post by Jones on Jun 9, 2010 17:05:51 GMT -5
The hooves of the horse that approached pulled at Maxius to turn from his sitting spot and look at who the newcomer could be.
He should have known. He should have known before his eyes had ever caught that glaring azure blaze staring back at him, who it would be sitting upon the horse, having come from the depths of the night. It had been perhaps, a week or two, since they had last seen each other.
“Dem,” he spoke, while standing up. The brown plain robes fell about his figure, while his blue eyes met the intense rage that stared back with no more than idle surprise mixed with regret. He had not wanted to leave her as he had. No… Not a bit. But the risk had been too high in telling her of what he aimed to do, and where he had decided to go. The fact that he had even wanted to leave the safety of the caravan would’ve sent her in an uproar. He glanced past her at this point, expecting to see one of his father’s men come up with her.
“My dear sister,” he said sweetly, a puzzled expression forming when he saw no one, and only her. “As beautiful as always,” he continued, focusing his attention on her again. “I cannot tell you how it truly pleases me that we are reunited… But how did you find me?”
The matter with the paladin and his companion, being in their camp, was ignored. What was more important in figuring out was, what was his sister doing here? How had she left their father’s men and the caravan behind?
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Post by Samaena on Jun 9, 2010 21:15:26 GMT -5
Of all the thoughts that had ran through her mind of what she wanted to say or do to her brother had left her bereft once he had turned and seen her, then opened his mouth. She could think of nothing but the pain and hurt he had left her with. She had been deeply wounded when he’d gone without a word. Always considered the baby of the ‘family’ and such an extended family it was. Father had said nothing to her, only the Chinese whispers from around the camp fires she had heard before silence befell the camps as she had wandered past. Word was not to reach her of Father’s worry and her own was dismissed as though it were nothing. Max was after all...his own man.
Fury turned to pain, it was all in her eyes. However, she turned her attention to Poignant and she smiled politely. Nodding to Vulfant before she spoke. “There’s a gypsy caravan about five miles back heading this way.” The information was offered freely, in case they did not want the hassle of oncoming questions, perhaps threats. Poignant had welcomed her to his camp, that counted for something.
Max with his own words, and perhaps her own adding to the tension would have spoke volumes. Had she once again doused his fire, ruined his plans? She didn’t care. He deserved it. Max, her brother was only offered a glance of disdain before she turned once more to Poignant and offered more information “The caravan will be leaving at midday” plenty of time for he and his companion to move on if that was indeed their wish. “I thank you for your welcome to your camp, but I cannot stay. I need to get back before I am missed” a truth for once simply spoken. There was no need to be rude, not to them.
She gently nudged her shire and a gentle touch to the right hand side of his neck had him slowly turn but before he turned away fully her gaze met that of her brothers square on and she took the opportunity to spit, right in his direction. If it hit him or not she didn’t care. That...had to be one of the greatest insults ever! And she didn’t care. There was no Father around to chastise her for her lack of respect. She simply turned away then and the shire would carry her back through the wood at the slow pace he had carried her. There was nothing she wished to say to her brother, nothing at all. Not even a hint of how she found him...she was ‘too young’ to know of such things.
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Post by Shadows on Jun 9, 2010 22:42:01 GMT -5
-The tiny companion and Poignant went about their business, only acknowledging a farewell at her words of departure. Mugs had been pulled out, a jar of ale, dutifully opened and sloshed about the wooden containers. Food came next, hot and steaming in this less than inviting weather. Silence had fallen the tiny camp. No doubt the mage was plotting the way deeper into the wood. Foul creatures lurked there, some of which could be heard screeching in the far off distance. None of that frightened the Paladin. Having faced legions of things much worse than they now faced, he understood one simple fact. Never under estimate the enemy.
Unique and colorful in their own way, it might of been admirable in a different life, but the unholy was to be purged. Poignant's role was to face each nightmarish infestation head on, with nothing but courage and a bit of luck. A grin came to the round, cracked lips. Morsels of food chomped up seconds later to hide the fact he relished his job. Could think of no better place for him. Vufant neither said anything or made any sound while the two guests sorted their business out. While she may be trailing off, he doubted they had seen the last of her. Doubted Max would just let her walk away as such.
Though they had shown courtesy, it was not their place to intrude on personal matters. They were just observing. Watching carefully. Putting the peices together that would ultimately serve as a portrait of who these two characters where and how they might fit into the grand design. Poignant always had a plan. Wheels within wheels, also a forward motion of events. Surely this would be no different. So they continued to wait. Collecting clues and hints to a consortium of past events that led to this singular point. A game that would amuse them until the truth kicked them in the ass. They wouldn't have it any other way.-
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Post by Jones on Jun 10, 2010 6:12:56 GMT -5
Maxius didn’t follow after Dem right away. He was frozen, every bit as much as he had been under Vufant’s spell. Except the spell this time was the insult that Dem had spit his way. Not quite all of it hit him, but he felt it nonetheless, like someone had driven every ounce of their strength into his gut.
She had turned the horse and was moving off through the woods by the time he found the power to move again. Maxius glanced at Poignant and Vufant before he began to stride after her. And as soon as he was beyond the firelight, and perhaps out of hearing, he moved to a run and called after her.
“Dem! Wait! Would you just wait a second?” He had come up to her side, moved past, and started to walk backwards in front of her, hoping to slow her. “I can understand your pain as well as your rage, but YOU have to understand it was necessary to leave you behind. “ He raised his hands up, the look on his face looking at her in a pleading way.
Maxius didn’t often fight to ever explain his actions. Not to anyone. But, this was his sister. This was Dem. She wasn’t just anyone. And if she wasn’t behind him, then something was wrong, and he had to try to fix it.
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Post by Samaena on Jun 11, 2010 11:49:43 GMT -5
Just as she had thought, he was there calling after and running to try catch up. She had known he would. Pleading with her, walking backward with his hands raised as if to plead. It was pathetic. He was met with nothing but indifference, there was no fury for him to fight with, there were no tears. Just a deafening silence. Perhaps he was right, it would have been dangerous for him to have taken her with him but she refused to be rational. That’d be the day. If they had both vanished Father would have sent every single man, woman and child in search of them till he got her back. It was safer for Max to venture out alone but she didn’t want to hear him.
Turning her beloved shire to the left to steer around him with nothing but a gentle touch of her bare foot to his side. She did however offer a hiss of disdain in Max’s direction. A dismissive wave of her hand and then the words came. Quiet, eerily quiet. “Then go!” she was so tense, pissed off beyond ALL belief but she remained so calm and cool on the exterior. She was so pissed off she didn’t want to hear him reasoning with her, she didn’t want to look at him let alone listen to him. Weeks it had been since he had gone, without a word.
Pushing on, even going so far as to slick and tell the shire she wanted to move quicker...away from her brother, away from the pathetic, pleading whine he was sure to offer. Raven hued curls tossed back off her shoulders with but a singular shake of her head. She was done...but just how far would she go before she told him he was dead to her. Did she want to go that far? Did she really want to lash out that harshly? In truth she did, he had hurt her so much but she refrained and headed back toward shelter and safety of the caravan...wishing to herself that he were going with her.
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