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Post by Alistair on Aug 23, 2012 19:46:28 GMT -5
He ignored her speaking for the most part; simple as him mind might be; he still knew that she was not thanking him. He spoke plainly; but the Romans liked to make words their weapons. He would have to watch her words; making sure they did not betray them. When she charged him; he was first amused for a moment--she was weaker and had to know she did not stand a chance but she stood up and ran at him anyway.
Good girl. Alistair bend over as she got closer and used her motion to make lifting her up on his shoulder; like the wooden beams he had been forced to carry; then turned and began walking out. "You should learn caution; little Roman" He told her; "Charging mindlessly would get you killed faster." Even though he had her over his shoulder; he still moved his daggers out of her reach. "We should make haste; if your father finds us we will have to kill him." Perhaps that would slow her fighting.
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Post by Alistair on Aug 23, 2012 16:54:53 GMT -5
The little roman bitch was fighting and swinging; but he did not notice; for he was used to fighting in the area for glory. She was not even half his size; and her efforts did not do more then sway his weight slightly. Ignoring her; Alistair was more focused on where he was going and the plan that was unfolding then her reaching for a weapon.
When he did take notice of her; her hands were almost upon it. With an annoyed growl he pulled her back and pushed her away; toward the floor below. "Little roman;" He began speaking her in her tongue that he'd been forced to learn. "You have two two choices; you can leave here with me; or you can stay and let your former slaves have at you." In truth; she had only once choice; they needed the coin her father would give them for her. If she thought he would leave her; let her father's men touch her; then she might go with less of a fight.
Walking toward her; he did not pause until he stood over her. Such a typically roman woman; white skin she feared the sun would touch; and not a mark on her from labor. It was then his plan formed; as she was at his feet. He would not tell her she would see her father again; that he planned to return her. He would make her his slave; and return her to her roman after making her live as they had lived. "They wont touch you if they think your mine."
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Post by Alistair on Aug 17, 2012 21:04:51 GMT -5
Everything had been going according to plan. After being taken by the Romans from his home; his brothers killed like pigs; their women sold to please their too white Roman selves; and then forced to fight in competition for the amusement of his captures--he had been broken free. The rebellion had started; and they were setting all whom were slaves free if they could. All whom could hold a fight; were freed first.
It was why the villa was a target; for the slaves there under Roman rule would be strong enough to help build the army. The fact; that many of them were Gauls; only make the job better. Alistair waited for the signal to be given; as he and other were in the storeroom waiting for the attack to begin; when light footsteps came closer. Everyone pinned themselves to the walls; but when it appeared the girl was not being followed by more Romans' Alistair jumped forward to come up behind her; and cover her mouth with his hand; and wrap his arm around her. "Give the signal; and begin the attack." He told the others; "I will get our prisoner out." For they had planned to take the girl all along; knowing her father would pay dearly for her return; and if he didn't she would be sent back little by little.
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Post by Alistair on Jul 25, 2012 1:34:41 GMT -5
Alistair was not fond of the blindfold; and even less of the mask. Yet to claim he was not fond of being left wearing both for an extending amount of time was an understatement. He would shift slowly; trying to see what he could feel without giving away to anyone that might be watching--though he hear nothing. After their sand trickery he did not trust his normal methods.
Finally both were pulled from him; as he was abandoned again. He took the time he was alone to get a map of the room; and look for a way to cut his bindings. Rope he could handle; while tight he had learned to tense up his arms so that when bound the rope would be tight but when he let himself relax the rope would not be so. They had bound him too tightly for the rope to be slipped over his wrist; but he had enough room that he could still feel his hands. Allow them to work.
He had yet to find a weapon when another entered. A girl. There was something unsettling about this. Dozens of men hide and attack; yet they send a woman to him? She spoke of food and water; poison. That was their goal? Alistair said nothing; moved not an inch; barley even blinked as she watched him and he her. How foolish they were to leave such a small creature alone with him; a man trained to harm.
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Post by Alistair on Jul 25, 2012 0:45:17 GMT -5
Alistair was walking a few feet ahead of the one who was talking; and before he could glare the man again; while wishing the sun would burn his mind away faster--the ground spit out men at them. Alistair was used to knowing when men were close; and how to handle himself in battle; however he had not even felt that there were men below his feet!
He pulled his daggers from their place upon his back; but his companion was dead before he could even have them to hand. He had taken a few steps back; and a few steps to one side as if seeking a place to exit the center of the field and better find his ground but there was none.
He stopped moving and stood int he center of the men; then flipped the daggers over so he held the blades and held them out to the men; knowing when it was time to stand down or end up like the other. When one reached for his daggers; he pulled them slowly closer to him. They were not his only weapon; but nor would he hand them over to just anyone. Only after staring the man down for a moment; did he allow his weapons to be taken.
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Post by Alistair on Jul 24, 2012 23:35:26 GMT -5
He wasn't a fan of sand; and even less of the wind that blew it up to his face. It made him think of the village he once lived in; and that wasn't something Alistair liked doing. The sand here in this place; made him long for the thicker air and trees of his homeland. He was not ready to travel there; doubted he ever would be. Yet here in this vast land where there was not a single tree for miles and miles; He thought of that village.
The he thought of the blood.
No; he would not be returning to that. Three days ago he had been working a job; where he was hired for his skill with a dagger only. The dreams had started. He knew how the job would end. Taking what he needed; he had left with no word of warning. Now he was wondering the sand dunes; and trying to get his barrings. Years of hunting; tracking; and learning to read the signs of the world--meant nothing when the wind blew the sands and everything changed before your eyes.
Alistair was lost. Bloody damned sand.
It all would not be so bad if not for the overly fond of words companion that followed him from the job. The man had sought to fill the silence left by Alistair. Constant talking; that never ended.
[Tag: Mirela. It's a song by Sting.] |
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Post by Alistair on Jul 23, 2012 9:43:38 GMT -5
Bloody kingdom. Take one step out of Camelot; and bloody damn raiders thought they own the bloody place. While Alistair held no love for the crown; he did not miss the ironic thought that 'this would not happened in Camelot'. Pendragons held their people on a tight leash. Do this; don't do this. It was easy to live in fear there; but here there was no king to fear.
Just raiders; and thieves. No wonder Vaughn seemed to like it. If you wanted to create chaos with little effort; come here. Alistair pulled on the rope that bound his hands; and looked around the cell. There were perhaps ten others; and the walls where stone but thin. He walked over to the window; which was nothing but a whole in the stone; and looked down. Bloody cliff. Though there was water below. A long jump; but if he could his hands free he could make it.
Bloody tight rope.
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Post by Alistair on Jul 14, 2012 20:34:52 GMT -5
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Post by Alistair on Jul 8, 2012 0:20:51 GMT -5
'Easy now,' The leader said; but Alistair didn't replace the blades he had drew out; nor did he repeated his demand. He would be walking away with the girl; but it was be easier if the other men walked away first. "I am Korrina," She added; seeming not caring that he was trying to deal with these men and not paying her attention. "Daughter of Tristram." His eyes again; move toward her though he could not keep his eyes from widening at her words.
'The girl has something of mine and I-' As the man spoke; he made the mistake of walking closer; and Alistair's attention shifted from the girl and to the man. He knew better then to let an untrusted person that close to him; for even the helpless princess had poisoned him. He moved quickly; knowing he had but a few moment's surprise and cut the man's words off with a quick movement with his blade into the flesh of his neck; and moving to end the second man that might have moved forward next.
There were only two left; and the took a few steps backwards; and backwards; following his words of telling them to leave. Alistair waited until they were gone; but not fooled into thinking it was over; before turning to the girl.
Walking to her; he cut the bonds that held her; and pulled her up by her arm. Both blades were in his right hand; and with his left he grasped her chin to force her gaze to his. "How do you know that name?"
[Night!]
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Post by Alistair on Jul 7, 2012 23:51:14 GMT -5
The men did not seem surprised at his lack of care in greeting them; and Alistair only hoped they hurried with their news she he could leave before his mind took in more detail of the girl. While healed from his injury; he had yet to regain his stamina and grace in a fight; and nor was he looking to test it against these four fools. "You are Alistair;" The girl spoke; saying nothing no one knew but everything he did not. Her clothing; her language; her fear.
She was a Druid. The men looked toward her; but Alistair did not. "Son of Tristram?" It was his father's name that turned his head; and he felt his body grow still; on edge; from someone knowing things they should not of his past. No one knew this. Not even a 'few'. While he had spoken of his mother and father to a few; he never said their names. No one had asked; no one cared enough to learn Druid names.
'She is nothing but a thief;' The man told him; 'She stole from us and we are holding her until she gives it back.' A lie; that even Alistair could hear in his tone. "What news have you of Vaughn?" He asked again; though did not look away from the girl. He would get what he came for; but when he had it; the girl would leave with him.
Then he'd learn how she knew too much.
'Not heard from him in months.' The man said; seeming at ease with Alistair's lack of care for the girl. 'Last I heard he was holed up in some wife's bed in Lanchester maybe. Though I doubt you'd find him still there. Wasn't his wife.'
Alistair reached in his boot; pulling his blade before lifting his other leg to pull the twin blade from it. "Walk away." He told the men; "Leave the girl." With him.
She held information he needed to know.
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Post by Alistair on Jul 7, 2012 23:21:51 GMT -5
Alistair had not been long from Maeve's world. In the month since his return; he had spent it wondering aimlessly. Here; or there. Before he'd been a fighter of his people; his name known well on both sides now. Now with the bastard Pendragon seemingly at ease; he had to be less defensive about protecting his people; and more aggressive. He was not going to just kidnap this time; but find a way to open their eyes and make them see.
Entering the camp silently; it took the men a few moments to notice he was even there. They greeted him; as expected with shock at him alive. Ever since he had fallen; and Maeve had taken him to her world to heal; most had assumed he was dead. 'Alistair!' One called and he gave no greeting in return other then a silent stare. 'You bloody silent druid! I could have shot you!' With his weapons closer to Alistair then his hand; Alistair knew the lie.
He noticed the girl; though he did not look toward her. Her fear and bonds said she was not their guest. He disliked the idea of holding her here; but he was known for his own kidnappings. His own sins. "I need to find Vaughn. What news have you?" Without returning his greeting; Alistair got to the point; not wishing to linger with fools. The girl bound to the tree however; never left the corner of his eye; as he took in the details. Her clothing mostly; poor; dirty. Something about this was drawing his attention.
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 21:58:35 GMT -5
Arva. But where; when? We met once, before. But WHERE and WHEN? He could almost see it; but not find it in his mind. Where did he know that face? She was beautiful; a face not forgettable. He did not see her as man would think a woman beautiful; but int he way that all women were beautiful. Her's was a striking face of the harsher straighter lines of the English; and the coloring of a more woodland based Druid group; used to being out doors perhaps.
That was when he noticed she spoke in his laguage; but the father they shared was not a Druid. My father is Tristram and my mother is Adara. Adara; a Druid name. Not Sura. He had known his mother dead; but hearing of someone claim to be of his father's blood had caused him to wonder. "He's alive?" He asked; trying to come to grasp in his mind with everything.
Devlesa araklam tume. "Devlesa avilan;" He muttered half numbly. Repeating the backwards greeting between two Druids. Mandi's nav hi Nadya. Nadya. His sister. Nadya.
Had the king given him her name? Alistair could not remember half of the conversation with Arthur; so he was unsure. Though the name would not be forgotten now. "Me som Alistair." He told her; in a highly informal way. Though mostly from his shock of even finding out he had a sister. "Tatcho?"
It is God that brought you.
i am called Alistair.
Is this true? / Is this real?
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 21:14:32 GMT -5
Alistair stared at her; trying to adjust to the first word she spoke. While he had not been raised among the Druids after the age of twelve; the customs and respects were ingrained into his mind. When she dipped her head to show respect; his hand automatically came up to touch the space between his brows; before his hand draw outwards and feel to his side once again. Her actions showed respect to an respected or elder male; his actions were one meaning to openly acknowledge her respect.
However his actions were more of a man in shock; or under water for his moved slowly and with out any true thought behind his actions. She had called him brother. Did she looked like his father? Their father? His hand came up again to tug at the longer hair; and he wished like hell he could start cutting it again; but it was necessary to keep it long and his face showed with a slight covering of hair so no one recognized him. She had waited for this? Had he seen her before?
Alistair looked over her face and tried to see it; but he wasn't sure. So many faces had he seen over the years that it was hard to place just once. Yet he thought there might have been something there. "Mani djan-tu?"She had spoken English; which did not surprise him. If she was the daughter of their father--an Englishman--then she would know the language of them both. "You are Tristram's daughter?"
Do I know you?
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 20:32:42 GMT -5
Alistair wasn't gullible. He wasn't foolish. He did not just believe every word that came from someone's lips. So when the king spoke and told him of a sister; he had not believed. Yet the woman knew things; the young king had told him; things that Alistair had only spoken of to a few. A very few. His family had not been one he had been willing to discuss. He had never spoke of them; and the few times he did had been more of a angry comments about the wrath of Camelot; or a reminder of his past.
There had been moments; people; to whom Alistair had spoke out with. His wife was one; Maeve another; and then recently the king of Camelot. He had taken the king to see some Druid camps and homes; so he would see how his people were living and could be a stronger leader for them. The war in Camelot for the Druids were over.
It was on one of these trips that Alistair had spoken of what life had been like under Uther's rule before the Great Purdue and during it. Spoken of his family. There were only a few people whom knew the names of his parents; people in his camp as a child or even the name of his uncle. He never spoken them.
So how had she known?
Was it true? Was his father looking for him? Alive!? He would never look in the noble ranks of Gwent. Finding him would mean leaving Gwent for a while but with a daughter now; he could not just walk away.
Pausing at the door for a moment; knowing the woman who claimed to share his blood was on the other side. Lifting a hand he placed his palm on the wood; as if that would tell hm something. Then; Alistair pushed the door opened; and stepped in sides; standing taller and his back straighter then it had in a long time; as he pushed the door shut behind him and his eyes sought out the woman who just might be his blood; his kin.
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 20:19:53 GMT -5
"No, its better that you hear this first." It was his family; for why else would the king seek him out. Summon him here! Damn it! He should have brought his wife and child; for he could get them away faster. Alistair always knew the day would come when they were exposed and when that day came; he had a plan to disappear and never be found. She wanted to see the world; and he would take her as far as their feet could travel; and let her kingdom burn it's self out rather then risk his family.
even with his new found loyalties; and sense of brotherhood; he would take his family before he lost them. He had lost his family once to some kingdom's politics and be damned if he would do it again. Especially his daughter. He would see her safe before royal. "Guinevère and I were outside the city a couple days past, and encountered someone of interest to you." Vaughn. It had to be Vaughn. No one else was of note to the king.
"Alistair, we met your sister here in Camelot."
Who? Alistair stared at the younger man for a long moment in what looked more like relief then believe. his family was not at risk; but the king's mind was. He had summoned him here for this?! "My family is dead; there was never a daughter." He explained; "No sister." This trip was for naught.
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 3:32:43 GMT -5
That was the king's first words upon summoning him here? To see if his wife was by his side? It was enough that the hairs on Alistair's neck stood on ends; but his face showed none of his unease. He shook his head in the negative; "Should she have?" He questioned knowing he had been in too much haste to travel with a wife and child who would slow him down. While Alistair would not mind traveling slow with them; Arthur's words had suggested a urgency that could not be ignored.
He had wondered if something had gone wrong politically with the Druids; or if there was another matter that needed his attentions. His history might have come to light but surely then the king would have summoned his family here and not separated the group. Why then? Everything had been going too smoothly; and now he feared which single brick was slipping in their stack; which lie might be coming undone; or even if his people were in need.
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Post by Alistair on Mar 8, 2012 2:58:05 GMT -5
Alistair,
A matter has been brought to my attention and it requires your immediate presence here in Camelot. Please come as quickly as possible for it is of great urgency.
Dismounting from the horse; for once Alistair did not see it t the stables himself but left it at the steps for another to tend too. As he reached the steps; Alistair stopped to turn and look behind and around him before ducking down one of the other halls. He knew only a few paths to a few places in this castle; but he knew the path he was looking to take. He knew where he would be going.
As he passed by one of the servants he moved to block their path. "Find your King; tell him Alistair is here." Then he moved forward without waiting for a reply. He was heading tot he one place that the king and he could speak openly at. The caves below the castle. When Arthur freed his people; he had also shown him this place where they could speak of Alistair's past with out reviling his lies nor bringing to question why a knight from another kingdom favored the king's bedroom.
[The King]
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Post by Alistair on Feb 6, 2012 3:52:22 GMT -5
Alistair had spent his own life fighting; and one thing that he did not fear was fie armed men. He could tell almost upon sight of them which ones would fight boldly; weakly and which one that he could not turn his back to. That is a lot of meat for one man, The loud one; that would not be so bold had the numbers been less in his favor. Lower your weapon, The leader; whom the men respected enough that he did not have to use force to make them do his will. The most dangerous of men. Alistair could tell that by how he carried himself and spoke. They followed him for more reason then coin. He did not know why; or even if he was correct; he only knew what he'd learned to see.
Our intrusion is without threat, Alistair slowly stood up and then looked at each man before looking at the leader. They were armed and many where he was one. If this wasn't meant to be a threat surely the man would send at least one or two of them on their way. He said nothing; only seemingly waiting for the odds to drop or one of the men to attack first. In truth; Alistair wasn't sure of the words that needed to be said. What would Vaughn had said? Something witty and meant to make them attack surely. Perhaps his words were not best to be the ones to seek out.
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Post by Alistair on Feb 6, 2012 3:39:20 GMT -5
"Your words honor me," His actions honored himself; not Alistair's words. No words spoken by him could express what this meant to him. The Pendragon--Arthur--knew that Alistair fought for his people that he would die for their cause. While before it had been a source of odds for the men; now they had a common goal. "I won't be able to bring peace to Camelot alone. I will need as much help as a I can get." Help; he would need help. Alistair knew he was tired to Gwent but he wanted to here and helping his people; the people of his daughter. Yet he could not.
"Let us work toward a brighter future." He held out his hand; and Alistair looked it for a moment before reaching out his own in a firm grasp. "I will aid you in your quest for peace."He swore; knowing that there would be much to do. Fear was hard to kill. Hard to change the hearts that held such fears. "There is much misunderstanding between the two worlds; and I have come to see such things with my time in her world." Where one side saw evil; there were in fact people. Fear caused one to attack and one to hide in caves. It would takes time to make them embrace as brothers.
Letting the king's head go; Alistair stared at him; still not having gotten his features back into his impassioned expression. "There is much fear between our worlds."
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Post by Alistair on Feb 6, 2012 3:22:15 GMT -5
"I don't want to name our baby after anyone. The name should be their own." He felt disappointed that the name would hold no meaning for them; but would respect her wishes to give the child a name of it's own. The druids were family people; and valued meaning behind everything; and even if he had not been raised as one; his years with then from before and more recent years with them had instilled a few values in his heart.
"Sabina. If it's a girl. Someone who brings peace to two peoples." A name with meaning; though not personal it was a name that represented something to her; which was important. "Sabina." He repeated; making sure not to forget the name. There was a chance this child would hold the name; his child. One that would belong to him in a way no one had ever belonged to him before. An unbreakable bond of family.
"What would you call your son?" After his father; perhaps. Though after her words of wanting children to have their own names he would not voice such thoughts. "Not Vaughn." He told her in a soft rumble to tease her while his mind thought over names he'd heard. Naming a child was not something he wanted to do by random chance; he wanted a strong name. One that carried the history of his people--both people. "What name would you give him?"
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