Faery Tale Knight

[Maeve]

To say that Maeve was not having a good day would be an understatement. She was in the middle of the woods, it was getting dark, and she was separated from her two companions: Haldir and Mirshann. She worried for them and as he safety was her primary concern, it was not her only one. She had been waiting in the forest for them, seeking shelter and concealment in the woods. Unfortunately, a small group of bandits did the same and upon seeing her, and finding her valuables, the jewelry she made and sell to continue her charade as a merchant, they assumed she was more wealthy than she actually was. Well...in this world anyway. They had been traveling for over a day now and decided to rest for a bit in the Forest of Balor.

Not only were they taking her hostage, but they had taken notice of her pointed ears so were now torn between two options: holding her for ransom, assuming she was nobility. Or taking her to Camelot where they believed they would be offered a hefty price for presenting a less than human being. Their decision was something they spent countless hours arguing about, and Maeve was growing more and more wary of it. She sat on the side, leaning against a tree, the hood of her cape lifted thus concealing her ears, and her hands bound. She was weaponless, even though she really did not know how to use a weapon. The four men were not far, conversing amongst themselves. She did not like the emotions she was sensing from them for they were hostile and filled with cruelty. Maeve was not crying, yet. She was planning to escape and now that it was getting dark, knew she would have a better chance of using the shadow to her advantage.

She closed her eyes and began to concentrate. Her energy level was weak from the endless traveling they did today, so it was all or nothing. She would have to wait until at least tomorrow to give this another attempt. She focused, and began whispering words of enchantment under hear breath. Faer i' luth en' i' folbol amin tanya naa n' eller Whispering these words over and over, the intensity grew though the volume of her words stayed the same so that they would draw no notice from the men. Normally, this could be with more ease but with her current state of weakness, it was taking longer than it normally did. The power of illusion was not one easily used, and while she had mastered this ability, it still had its limitations.

What is she saying? She's using magic! Making a spell!

Maeve's eyes abruptly opened when one of the bandits stood right in front of her. That had been another risk in using the plan, being caught. She knew then, that her fate would be sealed. That she would be sentenced to death. She also knew that the bandits would not advertise this fact, as they were selfish and would want whatever prize was offered for this to themselves. The greed of some never ceased to amaze her. It made her sad for them, sad that they would exchange the life of someone all for a few coins. Of course, this possibility of death did not fully discourage her for she would try again at some point. She had to. But this did not mean she was not afraid. She was terrified. With her death could come the extinction of her people. That was what frightened her the most.

Don't let her out of your sight!

She remained there, leaning against a tree, her hands still bound while one of the men proceeded to tie a cloth over her mouth. As if that would stop her from making any more enchantments for long. Of course, it would hinder it though for she had to say the words aloud in order for them to be effective. Her plan was foiled, but she could not lose hope. Somewhere in their journey, there had to be someone that was willing to help her. Little did she know, that that someone would appear tonight.

~ Tag Sir Olyver Vane ~

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[Olyver Vane]

Olyver was on his long journey out of Escetia. He'd taken only what would be necessary to survive. A small pack for medical emergencies, two pairs of clothing bundled up and tied with cord, some food, the stones for sharpening his sword, and what he was wearing. He wore a dark blue tunic and breeches, with his armour over. On his back was a quiver filled with arrows for a crossbow. He covered the quiver with a knit cloak and he'd left the place he'd called home. His former armour was no more, as he'd quit and in turn was stripped of his knighthood by Cenred. So, he didn't have to worry about heavy chainmail or helmets to be polished.

The trip to Camelot had found him lost. He'd never been good with maps or directions, and this was something that proved that. He'd gone in entirely the wrong direction and gotten himself lost within the forest of Balor. He'd heard stories of horror of the creatures within, giant spiders. The body as large as a man's head. Olyver also heard of how bandits raided any one travelling alone. This didn't discourage him, instead it only made him feel compelled to find his way and make it through the growth of the forest.

It didn't take long at all to find a caravan of men, a woman near by, obviously being victimised. He remained still, not wanting to cause attention to fall upon himself just yet. Olyver remained silent as he saw how the fair maiden was bound at the hands, and he knew from experience that ropes tied like that would leave impressions if not burn marks. His blood was boiling just from seeing how other men could act so vial. The former knight lifted his hand and reached back to where his quiver rested, and clipped in the arrow. Taking aim, Olyver pulled the string back with practised ease and waited.

As a man was tying cloth around the woman's eyes he let the string go, and the arrow shot forth through the air with deadly speed. The bandit stopped immediately and Olyver knew he'd managed to catch his target, hopefully in the right area to end the disgusting vermin's assault, and yet not enough to kill. He'd never wanted to kill a man, and it was because of what was happening with Cenred's men, his own brethren that he'd left the kingdom he'd been serving under for ten years.

And the bandit had indeed stopped in his tracks, hand gripping an arrow that had lodged itself painfully into his shoulder and screamed out something to the other three men. That was his call to come out of hiding, crossbow being hidden before drawing his sword from it's hilt at his hip, Olyver took quick strides to the man he'd injured already and pointed his sword at his neck. “You will release the fair maiden, and you will return what you have taken from her.” He said loudly with a clear tone. His olive green eyes narrowed dangerously as the injured man shuffled about. His back to the woman, he'd not allow his back to be towards the men however, it was against the knight's code to turn their backs to an enemy.