Destiny Riders

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He grunted, and moved along, sitting down and propping his feet up on the table. He glanced at her, and gave her a grin as he stretched.

"Perhaps I would have bothered watching your room if you'd bothered to tell me where it was, or maybe to pay me. You have to understand where I'm coming from. I'm a mercenary. And a damn good one. I've managed to get out of fighting in a group and move on to getting paid for my personal services. That takes having a very good reputation. I heard you, dropping the name of the person who taught you. How would you feel if someone else decided to do that? You'd be pissed, wouldn't you? It takes hard work to get a name for yourself. I'm not saying you have to hire me, but I do request you pay me for acting as if you had already. I'll even go along with it for a while. I'm not greedy, name a price, anything. I'm sure such a fine and powerful sorceress as yourself would have something of value, right? Besides, I'm a soldier. I don't care about stature. I care about death, and how well I can deliver it."

 

[cuervorose]

Zenae

Zenae awoke to a commotion in the castle courtyard. She struggled with sleep for a few moments before sitting up and clambering out of the monstrous bed. She glanced sleepily to the window, and saw the moon rising; it was still night, what was the noise, she wondered? She dressed quickly, drowsiness leaving her and alertness taking its place. She hurried down the stairs and out the castle entrance, where she saw a crowd gathered. A young man was walking towards the castle, bearing the inert body of another. As they got closer, her eyes widened, it couldn't be, not that one! Braided hair, black as night, pale skin. She heard voices and snatches of conversation, "...a dragon...", "...defeated alone...". A dragon? Sighted near this one? Oh goddess of Teren, no!
She rushed to the side of the man and raised an eyelid of the unconsious form- jette black. He had come; her study of history and legend had foretold of this one. She raised her eyes to meet those of Daine, who had followed the two men. He met her gaze levely, with more composure than she felt herself. Did he know who this man was? She opened her mouth to speak-Daine raised his hand to halt her, "Not yet, not here," and the figures moved past her, leaving her staring in confusion as they were admitted to the now questionable safety of the castle. She followed slowly and wondered aloud, "What have we done?"

 

[little_golden]

 

[Mystic_Visions]

OOC - Just need a lil clarification, for continuity's sake, are we still in the first night in the keep, or is it the following day? Remember seeing little_golden's post saying she awoke the next morn, but everyone else seems to still be acting during the night.


Argis-at the gates

I had heard the cries about the dragon. Whistling for my companion, Grense, we make our way to the gates where it seems every man, and some women for that matter, had assembled to meet the onslaught of the wurm. I stood off to the side of the group, ready to join the fray when it arrived. Saying a silent prayer to the spirits of my ancestors, I awaited the slaughter, expecting to meet my father in the spirit world when all was said and done. 'Save a place at the warrior's table for me, father,' I muttered under my breath. Yet instead of a wurm, a man stumbled into the gates. I could not hear what was said, but I could see an exchange of some sort between the raven haired man and an aged sage, although I could not see if words were spoken between them. As the mysterious visitor collaosed, another man went to his aid, lifting him up in his arms, and carrying him away with the wizard following close behind. Seeing as the trouble had seemingly passed, I prepared to once again find this Lord Mostade, so that I may fufil the dead priest's final request. As the procession passes me, Grense begins to growl, his fur bristling, ears laid flat. What danger he senses, I know not.

 

[BlackApollo]

Tariq

I managed to help Nazera on to Gibran and swing my leg over the saddle to mount him. Icould see the castle from where we were and headded off fin that direction , the ring of the criers becoming more and more intense as we neared the wall of stone.

I coule see archers and spearmen on the castle wall. The gates were open, "hopefully they are letting people from the village in for saftey" I wispered to Nazera. The guards waved us thru the gates with out fuss. There eyes focusing on the dark night beyond the walls. It was then that I saw a body on the ground laying in front of two men. Some one injured by the dragon perhaps, another victim of the goblins?

I nudged Gibran to a slow trot and brought him near the body.
"lets get him away from this mob" I heard the younger of the two men say. He had the bearing of a Knight in him, the older man had the face of a wizard, although, in this world, looks can be deciving.

I spoke up in a strained voice. "I pray sirs, what has happened to this man? Perhaps we can be of assistance?"

 

[Nightingale]

Sethyrian- Unconscious

In the state of dreams, he lay. Helpless, or so it would seem. Even now, he felt like a babe. Frail, and completely subject to the other will inside of him, the will stronger than his own. The will that had been his torment since his birth.

The tranformation had been painful, but he had endured, and was getting better. In months past, it had taken him days to recover. This time, he had almost avoided unconsciousness, but there was no time to concentrate. He would never have gotten into the town so easily otherwise.

He knew that they were talking. The dark skinned stranger who claimed to have rid them of the most fearsome of threats. If only they knew that the worst threat had just begun...

There he was, and he was wrapped in mystery. As the Mage-Girl inspected him, others gathered around. Even as the burly warrior took the young man to a simple chamber and laid him down to sleep, they continued to stare, stutter, and gossip one to another. The lad was like an Elf, and most beleived he was one, but he was different than any Elf that they had ever seen. He was lean, like the Elves, and when his hair swooped back, they could see the tops of his pointed ears, very Elf-like. His facial features were sharp and elegant, handsomely chiseled and symetrical.

But the similarities ended there. This mysterious stranger was darker of skin than any Elf. He was also taller than most Elves, and seemed a bit more muscular. As if that wasn't enough, his face showed the growings of a few days' facial hair, a trait that Elves did not have.

Still, they questioned his origin, his power, and his purpose as he lay asleep. But none more than Daine and Zenae... and possibly another... one that understood this man even more than simple magic would allow...

He had thought of waking to ease all suspicion with words, or to recieve the welcome of a hero, but he knew that this would be unwise. Besides, the transformation had left him tired, and he would need rest for what was to come. In his dreams, he brooded, waiting to wake later. He would need a great deal of food tomorrow, he mused, as well as conversation with the Wizard, and the others gathered here. Even in his sleep, he smiled. Tomorrow morning, he thought. I will sleep now, but tomorrow, I will act.

This would be the beginning, the true beginning of his life. His curse would be his blessing in disguise. And the world would never be the same...

 

[Mystic_Visions]

They bring the raven haired man into the castle proper. I wait for things to revert to normal, well as normal as was possible, and approach the guards at the door to the inner sanctum.

'I come bearing a summons from the Lord Mostade,' I announce, handing the sergant at arms the documents I recieved from the priest. 'I am here in the place of Brother Langishire. He has requested, with his dying breath, that I am to see his journey through to it's end.'

The guards eye me, and espcially Grense, with quite a bit of apprehension. The sargent looks over the papers, and nods in obivious satisfaction to their authenticity. 'Wait here,' he growls at me. 'I shall deliver these and see if you are granted audience.'

With that, he dissappears behind the heavy oak door, leaving me under the watchful gaze of several skittish guards.

 

[Steiner]

Having delivered the dark skinned man to a room in the castle, Garrel was happy to be forgotten for the time being. During the walk he had felt the sense of <i>WRONGNESS</i> growing stronger, stifling him. He could only assume it was a mixture of self-consciousness and the fatigue that would be sorely troubling him by now, if he hadn't pushed it to the back of his mind. Mental conditioning allowed him to go without sleep or food for many days, but he'd pushed this ability to its limits just getting here, and his resources were beginning to dry up.

The heavy steel armour had seemed to grow heavier and heavier with every hundred yards he'd carried the strange being (for closer inspection revealed it was not human). The mage had paced alongside or ahead of him, lost in the thought, and Garrel had been fighting waves of nausea and dizziness by the time they'd reached the Keep proper. According to the directions of Daine, the mage, domestic staff had relieved Garrel of his burden, and he was quite happy to slip into the background here. Sliding to a seated position on a handy oak bench (the wood creaking at the weight) he concentrated on deep breathing and felt the waves of weakness begin to recede.

He remembered the encounter at the gate, the man who'd offered help. He couldn't remember why, but something in his dress or manner or bearing had been familiar. Had he accompanied them?

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He listened through her talk, his eyes staring at the ceiling. She was young, and, he supposed, not used to the way things worked. It wasn't surprising. He'd met a few lords who were about the same. High and mighty. He grinned, holding back a laugh as she finished.

"First off, I know that death has many faces. But I'm a mercenary. I'm perpared to die for any cause, at any time. I fear nothing, for I have welcomed death, and await it to catch up to me." He let that sink in a moment. It was true, he was ready for death. Death was always lurking close, ready to take him. And he tempted it, invited it, he wanted it.

"Second, it is people like you who know no strategy. You try to fool me, but I'm not some farmer turned soldier. I'm an experienced warrior. And I know that a pawn can make or break a battle, or a game of chess. It is often the higher peices who are tossed to the dogs, because fools like you stake too much in them. A single soldier can win a war, because people expect very little of them. As for the people of the court, you seem to not understand. By now every guard in the building knows who I am and that I'm hear. I'm a mercenary, well known for being cheap and brutal. It could be that our contract ended once we got here, they'll probably assume that, since I have never before taken the job of 'bodyguard'. Besides, why do you think they went after you? Let us not forget who it was who beat up the guard. Why didn't they slit by throat from ear to ear? Because to them, I was a big dog, and you were just a little bitch."

He noted happilly that she did not seem happy about that remark. "To you, who travels in such upper circles, I'm simply a soldier, and to soldiers, you're just a woman who dresses like a whore and calls herself a witch. You were the one who had trouble at the gates, even spouting out your fancy names. Yet I never said mine, did I? I'm well known, I would have at least got audience with the captain of the guard, while you would have continued to argue with the guard until the wizard showed up to vouch for you. And don't think I'm that simple. I've seen the way kingdoms crumble, and I know more about the world than a simple woman like youself would. While you bury yourself in learning with a wizard it seems only others can remember the name to, I've been out there, seeing the world first hand. And strategy, let's not even get started on that. I know it all, from the slight barbs traded across to spread tension within higher courts, to how best to lead men against a pincer attack when outnumbered."

He stood up, hooking his foot under one leg to bring the chiar crashing down to the ground behind him as he stood. "And what would the guard have arrested me for? Let us not forget that without you there, things would not have gone as they did. I am a mercenary, oh Great Sorceress of Ray. And one of note. To me, anything is a weapon, including myself. I suggest you get your head out of the clouds and look at the real world. You may commend powerful magic, but you are still human, and blades will make you bleed. If I were you, I'd learn the reality of things. You need guards, because not everyone will play with you first. And I said pay me for using my name."

"For by saying we were traveling together, you gave the impression that you have enough money to hire out a guard, and will not be satisfied with any but the upper crust. I'm not saying I'm the best, but I'm good enough to be well know. However, while taveling with you, all I would get is money, or perhaps something else. You've set the tone of being prepared for anything, and raised yourself a little. But remember this: there is a power in names, ancient and deep. And my name carries the power of death. Were I you, I'd choose where you want that power pointed. I did not earn these scars because I'm afraid to risk fighting someone who may be more powerful than myself. I got these scars to let people know the power behind the name Ven Zalapa. And to let people know it is not a name to be used lightly. Even the smallest snake can carry venom enough to kill."

He turned, and started to leave, stopping and looking over at her. "I came here to see if you'd' make an offering, no matter how small. But lo and behold, you see me as the one who has no experience in dealings of power. But you are follish enough to overlook power as being to small, only to find that power you overlooked having it's way with you."

He grunted, and popped his knuckles before heading out to see what the crys of 'dragon' were about the night before.

 

[little_golden]

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He left something odd struck him as he walked away. He grimaced, and soon had recollected himself. He looked back, and saw the woman. He felt different towards her. But all she saw was a snarl.

He grunted, noticing something was definitely amiss. He turned away from her, and looked down both ends of the hall before finally choosing away and walking along it, talking to himself.

"And just who does she think she is, the princess of the world? I swear, the more hot air these people get in their heads, the less they feel they have to listen to others. Ahh, but her bubble will be popped soon enough. Now, let's see, where should I go? I could go take a nap until someone decides to see me, I could go down to the barracks to hear about the dragon, or I could wonder around, looking for someone else who things they know everything. Hmmm,....."

 

[spiritual_love]

Geneva

She had noticed the bit of bustle around the strange looking fellow earlier and contented herself to follow. Her curiousity sensors had gone berserk when she rested her eyes upon the dark elf. Well, it remained to be seen if he were indeed an elf. Though the pointed ears and other features certainly put him on a keep with others of the elven world. There were others that threw him way off from the line. This intrigued her greatly.

She had dashed and darted from corner to corner. Trying to keep to the shadows as he was tended. His hair was the colour of the midnight sky, and his flesh seemed to have been loved too much by the sky star. He was certainly an odd being to her eyes, having seen many of the elven nature, this one surely wasn't what she thought of as an elf.

She wondered if the others had even known of her presence. Some do have the gift to notice fairies as they believe. Though they might not care about the lil' mite she was, she reckoned they did. They seemed to be being of mystics and power.
Sighing softly, she wishing her kind were a well known breed to the world, then maybe..she would have to live life like a secret.

Geneva brushed her long, firey auburn hair from her doe shaped eyes as she hid beneath the resting cot of the dark skinned elf. She felt a tremor curling through her lil' fae form wondering if this was the beginning of the adventrues she had so hungrily craved.

Fear gripped her swiftly, it closed upon her heart like a vise. She couldn't do this, after all she was just a little fae, easily defeated, but hard to grasp. The thought made her laugh trickle from her lips, the sound was almost like the tiniest of bells. Her eyes glimmered as she quieted down, sitting beneath the resting elven man to wait.

 

[little_golden]

 

[Nightingale]

Sethyrian

He breathed easily, moonlight trickling into his quaint room, stretched out upon the uncomfortable bed. His eyes were closed, his hair splayed out around his head like a great black mane. The tiny creature underneath his cot had come in without incident. She could not be seen when she wished it not, and could barely be heard. Yet all creatures of magic have a presence, a presence that, when in the company of other creatures of magic, can almost always be sensed.

"Fae."

It was just a whisper from above her, but one that seemed to come from some deeper place than the breath of this man. His eyes closed, and his form stone still, the only motion were the breath of his chest, and his lips.

"I am glad you came. You alone could ever understand me."

A smile played his mouth as he lay there, still wrapped in slumber, his mouth invoking the startling, dreamlike whisper of the sleepspeak.

"We have much to understand about each other..."

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He sighed. It had been an uneventful walk down to the barracks. He yawned. The boring life of an everyday person. Well, once he had himself a horse he'd be gone to look for another battle to join in.

The barracks didn't hold much excitement either. A few of the younger guards rambled on about the dragon and the man, and Ven paid little attention, picking up on key words. for the most part, the agreed a little bit on what the man looked like. Everything else was just bullshit. He had a few questions asked about him, but he simply grunted.

The guards who had grown accustomed to their position would glance at him ever now and then, and give disapproving looks to the younger ones. Thankfully, there were only about half a dozen of the younger ones. Unfortunately, they never seemed to shut up.

He knew they'd say what he wanted to hear eventually, where the man was, and where the captain of the guards were, but both of these were lost among their inane ramblings about dragons and fire and such. He sighed, and wondered if he could get a sword from one of them...

 

[spiritual_love]

Geneva

Geneva was lost in thought about worldly matters when she heard the soft utter of "Fae". Her eyes widened and blinked rapidly as she sat frozen beneath the resting place of the man. She didn't know why she halted to move. Was it fear? Was it excitement? She sat very, very still, unable to move herself into his line of site. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that he whispered her kind. Buth then he spoke again.

"I am glad you came. You alone could ever understand me."

Geneva was sure he was speaking to her. Taking a deep breath, her lil' chest expanded, wings fluttering softly carrying her to the top of the bed. Her yees softened as she gazed silently upon the stone still figure. She caught the remnants of his slow smile. She touched her feet just upon the space near his ear. This as sweetly as the batting of a butterfly's wings, she touched her fingertips to his ear. Her voice was just as tender, filled with a sweet melody only few who were blessed would know.

"Ye must rest. Geneva shall nae leave ye."

 

[Nightingale]

Sethyrian

It seemed then, as that gentle winged creature spoke to him, that the sleepspeak faded. The mysterious man's lips began to tremble, then, they went still. His breathing slowed to a calmer rhythm, and his eyes stopped searching beneath his heavy eyelids. Perhaps in the presence of a fairy, he was comfortable... peaceful. Though still aware, he knew sweet slumber- a slumber he hadn't known in quite some time.

And at the same time, he knew desire...

 

[little_golden]

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Daine

So much had happened in such a short time. And where was he? The supposed Lord of the Manor?
Mostade had not so much as glanced out the window of his chambers high in the south tower.
Busy with his maps, I guessed, and wondered what could be so important. His words came back to me again then:
turn night into day, he'd said.
I shook off the agitation that was building inside me and turned my attention back to what had occurred that morning.
As the man rested, I sought out Zenae and pulled her aside.
Several stories were running through my head, and I guessed that, if this man truly was representative of one of them, he would not be exact to the story.
"You must tell no one what you are thinking, Zenae," I began. "It is imperative that we keep this information between the two of us. DO you understand?"
All the while, I was wondering, what had happened to our good host?

 

[spiritual_love]

Geneva

Geneva's eyes lightely caressed the sleeping man? elf? She still could not place his kind. He would have to answer those questions for her, but she was sure that the others would returned with similar curiosities as her. She seat near his head, passing the warm breath streaming from his nose as he settled into a peaceful rest. Geneva reached forth to touch a single strand of that midnight coloured hair. It glistened in the tendrils of light that were able to stream into the room. Lowering her body near to his head as protectively as a little fae can, she closed her eyes with a sweep of fine eyelashes. She curled her fingers it around the length of her tiny finger, easing to dreamland herself as she awaited his rising.

 

[Mystic_Visions]

Argis

Still awaiting the sergeant at arms' return, I was beginning to grow impatient. I know the spirits would not have steered me this way if I was only to turn back now, but my limits were being reached. I see the young woman who left the hall earlier approaching once again. I sense that she might be able to provide some explanation as to what is going on, so I approach her.

'My lady, forgive me for bothering you,' I say to the woman, bowing deeply. 'I am awaiting word from the lord of this castle, Mostade. Have you his ear? I am bearing a summons from him. The master of the guard has gone to deliver it, yet for many hours I have been awaiting his return.'

It is only after speaking that I realize she had been in deep thought, apparently troubled by something.

 

[cuervorose]

Zenae

"You must tell no one what you are thinking, Zenae," Daine cautioned her. "It is imperative that we keep this information between the two of us. DO you understand?"

She nodded mutely, eyes wide, but understanding. "Then you do know who he is?" she asked. He looked around, questioning, as though searching for something, someone, and walked away without answering. As Zenae continued walking her thoughts kept racing. She knew who the swarthy stranger was, knew what he would be, knew what would come of this night. She felt powerless for the first time since childhood. Always, always she had been able to at least defend herself and now that would not be possible. She stopped, standing still in the great hallway, realization sinking in about what had taken place. She looked around slowly and observed those around her....she saw a girl, no, a woman, albeit a small one, scantily dressed standing in the hall speaking to a guard, she saw several of the party that had been outside standing around, talking excitedly amongst themselves. She took in none of it; nothing was of any consequence now. She made her way up the stairs to her chamber dazedly. When she got there, Brylea was standing, waiting for her. "Mistress, I came in to check on you. Is there anything you need?" "No, thank you," Zenae replied, "How many hours till dawn?" "Around four, mistress," Brylea said quietly. "Thank you, the baths first thing, please," Zenae murmured as Brylea stepped forward to help her undress. She climbed slowly into bed, Brylea pulling the coverlet over her smoothing it over her back. She drifted into a dark, mercifully dreamless sleep, lost to the world.
When the first rays of sunlight fell over her face, she awoke. As she sat up in bed, the previous nights events came back to her. She climbed down from the sleeping platform and padded nude to the basin of water. Warm. Someone had been here already with fresh water. She splashed her face and reached for the towel to dry herself. As she stood, she heard footsteps behind her. Brylea asked softly, "Are you ready for the baths, mistress?" Zenae nodded, and dressed swiftly, following the younger woman down several flights of stairs to a large chamber with pools of steaming water sunk into the floor. Brylea helped her disrobe and she stepped down into one of the pools, feeling the heat sooth her muscles and relax her body and mind. She lay back along the edge, clearing her mind of all thought, falling into peaceful oblivion.

 

[The GrandMage]

Ven Zalapa

He sighed as he left the barracks, wandering slowly. He had not been able to get himself a sword. It would have cost him the precious few coins he had left, which he needed to get himself a sword. He would simply have to hunt down his own sword, but where that would be now, he hadn't a clue.

What he really needed, he supposed, was to kill someone. Get his frustration out, stop being cramped up. As it was, his fingers were tingling. They wanted either to be holding the hilt of his sword, or touching the warm flesh of a woman.

When he wasn't participating in one of those two activities, or sleeping, he found himself particularly restless. He was becoming increasingly angry at his surroundings, wanting to be out, doing something. But he knew not what. He never had. And that was the source of his anger.

It was difficult to live without knowing where you fit in. To always be on the hunt. There had been a time in his life, for almost a year, when that frantic search had died down, and he had felt content where he was. Without thinking about it, his hand reached up, pressing against the tunic, over the area of his heart. He grunted. Deception comes in many forms. He dropped his hand, not wanting to think about where he'd gotten that particular scar.

He stoppped, and looked around, realizing with a scowl he'd let himself wander out of the few halls he knew as he thought. "By the nine hells, where have I gotten myself to now?"

 

[little_golden]

 

[spiritual_love]

Geneva

Geneva rose before he did, her little form stretching as sleep left her body. She sat up and gazed upon his stonelike form and quickly wondered if he was indeed sleeping. Touching her tiny fingertips to his parted lips, she felt the rush of his breath. Quickly, she leapt back and giggled, not having expected the sudden rush. Geneva smiles and flutters around his head, wishing for his awakening. Touching down upon the pillow again, she slips beneath the covers, curling herself near to his chest. Hidden from any that would come within the chambers, she tickles his chest with her fingers. Listening to the steady beat of his life as she awaits his awakening. Quietly, she hums a bit of a melody to herself.