Ardor & Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, & Renegade Vile)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: impishcharm on 14-02-2016, 05:30:55</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>14-02-2016, 05:30:55</strong>
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				<strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-DWfDQpvCyNk/UxgdK5AECwI/AAAAAAAAHHM/o_psgNRbCiU/w800-h800/13%2B-%2B1)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>They crossed into Ashburne territory not too long prior — the small town of their residence, and were approximately an hour out from Amberthorne; so close, in fact, he could almost detect the cloying aroma of the fruit trees scattered across the estate. Of course, it was the anticipation of home and its familiar comforts that played tricks on his senses, as it would be a while yet before he could savor the real thing. Which is why when they were asked, then, a little more desperately, <em>urged</em>, to stop so one of the two guards accompanying them could have some relief, Asher shot him a look that suggested the man hurry up with his business or be separated from the anatomy that was so cumbersome. The guard, named Roland, grumbled as he dismounted and stalked to the trees. He knew that look all too well, and also knew that Asher’s bluff appeared just as earnest as his sincerity.<br><br>Asher’s irritation softened into something more neutral as he looked to his charge, Graham. The heat that accommodated late summer was beginning to ease, especially at night, but Asher had pulled his black curls to the base of his skull and secured them with a cord. Days-old stubble was beginning to turn into a beard, emphasizing his strong jaw and square chin. The contrast made the intensity of his eyes that much more shocking and overall more expressive. Broad shoulders and a tapered waist were dressed in a lightweight tunic that would breathe as he moved, and was covered by a leather vest for added protection. Dark breeches were tucked into sturdy boots, and he donned a swordbelt with twin daggers — the Wicked Sisters, he called them — strapped at each hip. They were his main source of security and had served him well over the years. Of course, they were not his <em>only</em> means of protection; other weapons and devices were strategically placed both on his person and his mount. Better to be prepared than surprised.<br><br>It was just the four of them in the woods, riding on horseback straight from the port town of Eastburne. Located conveniently on the coast, it was one of the major driving forces of the local economy. Many goods were traded there, and the recent arrival of new merchants sparked the curiosity of many. It also attracted the more unsavory characters and it wasn’t uncommon for the bastards to chose a target, often of the wealthy variety, and follow them home to rob them blind. That is why Asher preferred to take an entourage when accompanying Graham; not only was it his duty to protect him, over time it had become a necessity. The man had his complete devotion, and as long as he drew breath, no harm would come to his Lord.<br><br>“Next time I’m leaving this one,” Asher pointed a thumb at Roland’s back, “at home where he can nurse his weak bladder.” His remark earned a low chuckle from the other guard, Brisby. The two were brothers, with Roland being the younger by ten years. They had a similar look, though Brisby was sporting a receding hairline while Roland still had his full head of hair.<br><br>Asher was antsy, and aside from his mild irritability he hid the signs fairly well. He already halted himself from twisting his horse’s reins several times while Roland took what seemed like the piss of a lifetime. He was in-tune with their surroundings and was ready to detect anything even remotely out of the ordinary. They all knew the dangers, but it was easy to argue that they made quite the intimidating little group and any ambitious thieves would wait until the next potential victim that came along. That type of arrogance was dangerous.<br><br>The road ahead was wide enough to fit a carriage and a half width-wise, though as the afternoon gradually turned into evening, a thin fog started to settle and obscure what awaited them in the distance. The road would curve up ahead, and branch off to become smaller paths that led to various properties and thoroughfares. It was easy to get lost without a map or the know-how to get home. Luckily they'd traveled that way many times, and had long since needed the former. <br><br>Something buzzed by his ear, a parasite on a hungry quest for blood, and was promptly swatted away by a large hand. His sweat always managed to attract the blood-suckers, and he swiped that same hand across his brow as a trickle started to descend as if on cue. One of the maids always teased that it was because he was sweet on the inside, and in turn he’d passed on that question to Graham, who would know by experience.<br><br>Finally, Roland stalked back to his horse, claimed his mount and smirked at Asher, who in turn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “There was a fly,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder and glint of humor in his eyes as the guard rubbed his stinging scalp, and while his hurt pride wanted to get his revenge, they both knew it was not the time nor the place to settle scores with his superior, especially petty ones.<br><br>Without wasting any more time they were off, with Roland taking the lead and Brisby bringing up the rear.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>18-02-2016, 00:26:23</strong>
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				<div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Graham Ellery</div><div class="spoiler_body"><hr><div align="center"><strong>The son of a disgraced duke, he now governs a mere fraction of what his father once owned and retains a family name that garners little more than scorn and ridicule. But maybe that is how he wants it to be?</strong></div><hr><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/1c/Graham_Ellery_2.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 16pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></span></span></div><hr><br><strong>*ASSIGNED*</strong><br><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Brief Overview</span></strong><br><ul class="bbc_list"><li><strong>Name: </strong>Graham Ellery</li><li><strong>Gender: </strong>Male</li><li><strong>Age: </strong>28</li><li><strong>Species: </strong>Human</li><li><strong>Orientation: </strong>Bisexual</li><li><strong>Height: </strong>1 meter 84</li><li><strong>Weight: </strong>78 kg</li><li><strong>Relatives: </strong>Antony Ellery (father/deceased), Adriana Goodwin (mother/missing), Marshall Ellery (older brother/deceased), Duncan Ellery (uncle/banished), Usard Ellery (grandfather/deceased)</li><li><strong>Settings: </strong>Fantasy</li><li><strong>Notable Interests: </strong>Free Spirits, Rangers, Artistic Women, Military Men, Mysterious Spellcasters</li><li><strong>Related RPG Systems: </strong>None specific</li></ul><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Background Information</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">Graham was born the son of Antony Ellery, a noble lord of significant power and influence in his native kingdom. Having slowly expanded the Ellery family name to the point where he had the king's ear in matters of economy and trade, Antony's wealth continued to expand. The feudal system meant that more power yielded bigger rewards and the Ellery domain grew to encompass a significant part of the south of the kingdom. One thing had always driven Antony forward, and that was ambition. Unbridled, uncontrolled, he was known for his brutal, political tactics, but he retained a good reputation with his peers and subordinates. He ruled justly, and correctly, even if the occasional bit of coin landing into his palm did prove a weakness of his. Ultimately, though, these incidents were few in number and usually harmless. Of course, with his focus so purely invested in furthering his standing, his family life itself was neglected. Having married Adriana Goodwin primarily for gain, only the barest modicum of romance had flourished between them over decades of wedlock. Even when a pointless war cost the life of their eldest son, they took comfort more in their own family and friends then each other. They did not argue, they did not clash, but theirs was a cold marriage. His relationships with his sons, while genuinely loving, was equally starved. Time spent with him was rare and it left a lasting impression on the minds of both brothers that a father's duties lay with society first, offspring second.<br><br>In this environment, Graham grew up. He was provided for, educated, fed, treated and trained. After the passing of Marshall, who had been considerably older than he, the title of heir to the family name fell squarely on Graham's shoulders, with all the responsibilities thereof. Urgency and the lethality of life in their world dictated he be placed on the fast track, to make sure he was ready should Antony's shoes require filling ahead of anyone's expectations. During these years, Graham saw more of his uncle and grandfather than either of his parents, making them both surrogate fathers in his life. Both knew that Antony's life would lead to disaster and they did everything they could to inject morality into the harsh lessons Graham was otherwise given. Usard, his grandfather, shared experience and wisdom, while Duncan, his uncle, shared health and common sense. Graham was not the sturdiest of children, nor did he grow up to become the most enduring of men. Hypermobility and injuries sustained in a horseriding accident continued to plague him, to the annoyance of his father and disappointment of his mother. But even after Usard's passing, Duncan took it upon himself to make sure the Ellery name was not shamed when they were no longer there.<br><br>Sadly, such disaster was out of their control. By the time Graham reached twenty-five years of age, Antony's ambition had swelled to proportions that were less than humble. For years now, even since the ailing king had been replaced by a far less liked and competent and beloved son, he had been lusting after the position of chancellor under a new king. Many others felt the same, though their support needed to be rallied. He played a dangerous game, meeting with noble lords and wealthy merchants in private. Earning the loyalty of some, the scornful secrecy of others and the price tags of mercenaries that would help cement his rule. However, his support was recognized and consistently rewarded by the would-be usurper, who lurked in the shadows in relative safety. His wife knew of these activities, despite Antony's best efforts in keeping family and friends out of the machinations, but she did not speak up about it. By that point, their relationship had become purely ceremonial and she had long since given up on having any kind of say in her husband's actions.<br><br>It did not last. Eventually, the plot was discovered and traitors were rounded up. Among them, Antony and a significant part of the Ellery household. There was ample proof that only Antony had played a hand in the machinations, but his own allies turned on him, making his family the focal point of the entire plot. They needed a scapegoat, someone to divert attention, and they found the perfect sacrifice in him. In the end, Antony was put to the sword for his transgressions. On his way to the chopping block, he screamed not for his own innocence, but that of his kin, who were lined up right behind him. In the end, more than half the Ellery family was trialed for treason and executed, with the only prominent members to escape such a lethal verdict being Graham and Duncan. Despite having had nothing to do with any of it, Duncan was banished to a distant protectorate to live out the rest of his days in penance, while Graham was made the patriarch of a family that had been stripped of all of its honors. His mother had vanished in the night, leaving him all alone on the throne. Lands were divvied up, leaving him with only the meager territory that was ancestrally tied to the Ellery name. Titles were removed, power diminished and all but four villages were taken from him. Graham was made a mockery, disgrace and blemish on the kingdom's political map.<br><br>No amount of work that he has put forward in the years since has mended the damage, and he remains a pariah to this day.<br><br>But, he is not alone. While he has little left but his house guard, one man has stayed with him throughout all of this. The son of the lord in command of the old Ellery army, guard and militia. Having passed away as well, those tasks now fall upon his son, though with nothing of that army left standing, it would be far more apt to describe him as being bodyguard and confidant. The two have had the odd history of being enemies, rivals, disgruntled associates and tentative friends. It was only late in their teens when that flourished into something much deeper, more illicit and certainly secretive.<br><br>Today, Graham has all but given up. He goes through the motions of maintaining the status quo. He keeps his lands safe, coffers filled and people nourished. His reputation has only been restored among his own, while everyone else is still far too wise to associate with a cursed name. Foreign allies do exist, at least among those who ignore the rumors and meet the man himself. But the only apathetic reason why he has bothered to engage in foreign diplomacy is to keep local trade flowing. For the rest of the day, he just watches the world and waits, not knowing what to do with himself, or what he has.</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Personality</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">Graham is duality made manifest. Calm, collected, observant and almost frighteningly attentive to detail, he is simultaneously prone to stress, anxiety and deep worrying. While he tends to hide those more negative or self-destructive traits, they are always there, beneath the surface. Those who know him well will see the signs. Small ticks - barely noticeable - will herald his words or actions, and because they are completely involuntary, they will also be honest. Still, even under pressure, Graham tends to be able to think clearly and present his opinion and a course of action free of brashness. It is his physical health that suffers under the strain far more than his mental. During the most stressful times of his life, such as after the execution of his father, he would often fall ill or he would suffer ever more from the effects of his hypermobility. There are always ways to calm him down, of course, but getting him to turn his back on a problem before it is resolved has proven impossible. Once he has his mind set on something, he will be irrevocably driven to seeing that come to a satisfactory conclusion. Often, it invariably does, but at the cost of his own comfort. In that way, he is a tried and true martyr who almost annoyingly tries to always do what is best and right. Too pragmatic and bloodied to be a paragon of justice and an idealist, he is nonetheless someone who wants to better the world through every step he takes. Earn his friendship, and you will belong to a category of people who he always puts first and helps to the very best of his ability. Earn his ire, though, and learn that few stay in that group unscathed for very long...</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Appearance</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Body</span></strong><br>Graham is not the most physically imposing of men, yet he still manages to have a presence that overshadows those around him. Dignity, style, class, respect and charisma coat him as much as steel covers a knight in armor. He keeps himself groomed to perfection without succumbing to vanity or obsession. Shaven, a clean haircut and a fit physique meet to make a moderately attractive man into a handsome one. He maintains a slender, masculine build that errs on the muscular side without losing the elegance that matches his chose garb. Broad shoulders and a very strong core are the primary features, while a set of intensely blue eyes tend to put his intelligent and intuitive gaze on display. His facial features are pronounced, with high cheekbones, a powerful brow and a broad jaw. Black locks offer a glimpse of what he owed his mother, while his paler complexion is a definite carry-over from his father's side of the equation.<br><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Clothing and Gear</span></strong><br>Graham generally dresses elegantly and tastefully, without becoming gaudy or wasteful. He buys quality sensibly and always seems to strike that perfect balance between taste and efficiency. He follows the current fashion trends only when he needs to attend some public gathering or social event, while dictating for himself what he wished to don a moment later. When traveling or hunting, Graham instead wears tough and practical leathers, complete with a quiver of crossbow bolts hanging from his lower back. A short sword is always at his side during these excursions, as is a crossbow that cost him an arm and a leg to have manufactured, but is thus of a quality many times above the norm.</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Skills and Abilities</div><div class="spoiler_body"><ul class="bbc_list"><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Scholar: </strong>Graham is a man of education and refinement, which has evolved over the years into a definite expertise in the fields of politics, economics and history. More than anything else, he adores studying and reading about the past and present, while musing about the opportunities of the future. Since an early age, he has shown himself as being tremendously adept at reading other people, judging their motivations, playing and praying on them, and using everything he knows to gain an edge in life. While having done so under a pseudonym, he is the author of a variety of widely acclaimed books on the history of the world as a whole. Well-traveled, there are few corners of the civilized world he has never seen and he uses those experiences to further his understanding of the people and events around him. His mind and wisdom - both well beyond his age - are by far his greatest asset.</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Survivalist: </strong>Graham was taught from a young age how to fend for himself. His late father was an avid hunter and loved to spend time in the wild by himself. Sometimes, he vanished for days on end without so much as leaving a single note for the captain of the guard. While he was unable to imprint that love for the outdoors quite so vigorously onto his sons, Graham still took to trekking through the world with the barest essentials on his back. This has resulted in Graham being surprisingly skilled at taking care of himself in any situation where the comforts of civilization are a distant luxury. While the harshest of environments are beyond his capabilities, the young Ellery still knows how to forage, hunt, build shelters, get a fire going and navigate remote and often dangerous locales.</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Crossbowman: </strong>While not a hardened veteran by any stretch of the imagination, Graham was still educated in some basic means of defending oneself. While he can handle himself with fists, daggers and blades, he showed more affinity with ranged weapons; crossbows in particular. He is no master with the weapon in hand, but his accuracy is certainly above the norm and he has the potential to become a crack shot. However, there are only so many hours in the day, so much of the time he would need to practice goes into his books and duties instead.</div></li></ul></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Major Flaws</div><div class="spoiler_body"><ul class="bbc_list"><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Hypermobility: </strong>Graham has always suffered from hypermobility, even if no medical term for it exists. Some of his joints have the tendency to overextend, causing him to have a much higher chance of getting sprains, tripping and falling, or even dislocation. Because his coordination is quite good, Graham has been able to keep it under control, but it still a fairly common occurrence to see him stumble as if tripping over his own feet. He tries to keep this to himself, meaning many misinterpret the accidents and believe him clumsy.</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Partial Deafness: </strong>A horse riding accident when he was young had nearly cost Graham his life. Fortunately, he was able to walk away from the near-tragedy with minimal lasting damage to his body. Aside from certain joints that tend to complain from time to time, he was left almost deaf in his left ear from the blow to his head after the fall. With age, it seemed to have only gotten worse, leading Graham to believe that he will lose all hearing in that ear before long. His greatest fear is that the damage has affected his right ear as well, he's simply failed to notice thus far...</div></li></ul></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Sexual Information</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">For most of his youth, Graham wasn't all that interested in romantic or sexual relationships. Much of his youth was spent studying or learning the ropes to one day take over from his father, as his elder brother had long since decided to become a career military away from home and the affairs of the Ellery family name. As such, not much time was left over to spend with girls. Still, the interest was there, under the surface, but he was never able to act on it. Before he could, he also made a very different discovery. His childhood nemesis, yet protector-in-training, Asher became more and more of a distraction as time came by and it wasn't long before Graham realized women weren't his only interest. His first time was with the other man and he has since had not intercourse with everyone else. This, strangely enough, means that he's fairly inexperienced where sex is concerned. He knows how to pleasure a man - well, one specific man - but the rest is all theory and supposition. Their relationship, while loving and intimate, is also not strictly exclusive, meaning his eyes still often turn to an attractive woman. Though, what is attractive to him? Resolve. Appearance, power and even education is secondary to resolve for the man. No matter the gender or background, he wants to see a fire in a lover's eyes. If there are no flames licking at his pupils, there will be no passion. If there is no passion, there will only be boredom. And boredom is the worst passtime Graham can think of.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br><br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br>While he would never have said so out loud, Graham was pleased to hear the young Roland's request. Why? He had been sitting in a horse's saddle for far too long already, and he was starting to feel the painful effects thereof. Suppressing a wince, he dismounted while the guard went to attend to his needs, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs and flex his arms a little. The young lord was not the sturdiest, that much would be obvious to anyone who witnessed his almost awkward dismount. Having been arranging difficult deals from across a wooden table, while seated on a chair of poor quality and comfort for days meant that every joint in his body was either nagging or felt stiff as a board. No amount of walking was going to fix that yet. He would need to lie down on something more comfortable than soil, or whatever it was that had passed for a mattress in that abominable inn they had stayed at.<br><br><strong>"Careful. He stands watch outside your room sometimes. Might nurse his bladder in one of your drawers if you keep picking on him,"</strong> the comment was intended to come across in good spirit, but that did not stop Graham's deadpan and level tone from turning into a very dry statement to make. He tugged at his gloves to make sure they were proper, before taking a few steps away from his mount to look across the fields they had left behind when they had entered the forest. A part of him immediately wished he could head out - with a good sleeping bag of course - and spend some time on the road like he used to with his uncle. But, Asher would get a heart attack if his "charge" darted off into the wild without constant surveillance. That thought brought the talented warrior to mind, and Graham shot him a glance from over his shoulder. It would be barely noticeable for onlookers, for the hood of his expensive, though functional, cloak would get in the way. That same hood also obscured much of the Ellery patriarch's facial features. Shaven, a clean haircut, dressed in garb that suited his station without becoming gaudy and useless; he had the air of a perfectionist in some ways, always concerned with appearances. As superficial as that may have seemed - and it was - such matters were part of the game he had been thrust into. As much as he would like the world to share his pragmatism, the cover of a particular book still seemed to shape the opinions of others in an instant. So, he had to make sure the cover was pleasing to the eye.<br><br>Deep blue eyes returned to the road, even as the footsteps of Roland re-emerged. <strong>"Do you ever get the feeling that every time we take a step forward, we're forced to reconsider something, and take two more back?"</strong> something was on the intelligent man's mind, as usual. It would be unfair to call Asher the brawn, for a stupid bodyguard was a poor one, but they were still each other's antithesis in many ways. Some would argue that might be what attracted them to each other; or at least they would if anyone really knew about it. Graham turned to face the mounted trio, his strong arms crossing over his chest. <strong>"The deal with the Red Lotus. It -is- going to fall through, I know it,"</strong> he raised a hand to preemptively silence any of them that wanted to speak up. <strong>"That is not me doomsaying. Their mannerisms, poorly faked enthusiasm over the deal. It all reeks of sycophancy for the sake of getting house Ellery to shut its mouth."</strong><br><br>He grumbled something undignified under his breath, before returning to his horse and mounting the animal. <strong>"Let's just get home. The sooner, the better,"</strong> his mood was shot, unsurprising. No-one in his retinue could really blame him. His father had made a complete mess of their noble lineage's power base and it was up to his woefully unprepared son to fix it all again; pretty much alone. If he were not a level-headed man, the pressure and responsibility would have crushed him long before then. He shouldn't dwell on it, for the lack of progress was just going to aggravate him more until his mind forces him to go through another week of sleepless nights. He had only recently started sleeping better again to boot.<br><br>The group continued, with Graham retaining his silence and his expression relaying that he would rather not be subjected to banter. They needed a loan. Soon. Where in the name of the Creator's balls was he going to find a substantial one in the remaining time?</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>18-02-2016, 00:34:38</strong>
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				<strong>From Road to Swamp</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>The carriage clattered over the rough road, and there were moments when Abigail felt the conveyance tilt upon its wheels, sending her toward the side with her mother's scant weight pressing upon her in grim reminder of how little the frail, ill woman could withstand the rigors of such a journey.&nbsp; Her fingers in Abigail's hand were cold, hardly more than winter twigs.&nbsp; She could feel the fear inside with them, an invisible fog that sapped heat and set her teeth to chattering, despite the warmth of the air.<br><br>"They are coming."<br><br>Her mother's words were hardly more than a whisper, but there was no doubt and no panic, only a grim kind of resignation that was mirrored in her steel gray eyes, gone slowly pale over the year that illness had eaten away at her from the inside out.<br><br>Abigail's throat swelled, and her eyes stung with unshed tears.&nbsp; Her mother believed she would die this night, and worse, Abigail believed it as well.&nbsp; &nbsp;She could feel the tightness in her chest, and the sorrow for leaving those she loved behind.&nbsp; She could also feel relief, relief that the pain would soon end and the strength of her mother's belief that this last journey would see her someplace better.<br><br>"Stop the coach!"<br><br>Her mother's fingers tightened on hers, and Abigail turned to look at her, her face a mixture of disbelief and fear ... and pride as well.&nbsp; Her mother would not, even as weak as she was, would not give in to the men who had killed her father.&nbsp; The two of them shared a long, steady look unbroken by the carriage's jostling.<br><strong><br>"Stop!&nbsp; &nbsp;Stop the coach!" </strong> This command was stronger, and accompanied by a few thumps of a weathered fist, big and hard as a brick, demanding the coachman's attention.&nbsp; Brigs, her father's aide-de-camp, was a large man, strong and imposing even though he had reached his fifty-eighth year.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no fear in his visage, and none in his voice, and he nodded at her as if to say 'You can do this, girl.&nbsp; You know that you can.'&nbsp; He had said those words to her in many ways, many different fashions, over her life, from when she had climbed too far up her first tree and had to be coaxed down, to when she had ridden her first horse, to when the man she had hoped to wed had been lost at sea, to when the doctors had been able to offer no hope that her mother would recover.<br><br>She nodded back, both to Brigs and to her mother, and clutched her mother's frail hand in one of hers and her sewing basket in the other as the horses were slowed and the carriage rocked to a stop.&nbsp; Brigs opened the door and hung out, surveying the landscape.&nbsp; <br><strong><br>"There.&nbsp; Georges, pull ahead to where the water comes right to the road, and stop." </strong><br><br>Georges, the coachman, had been with them almost as long as Brigs, and he did not fear the big man like some of the younger members of their household.&nbsp; He had a wife, daughters and a son, grandchildren.&nbsp; He wanted to live, and he chafed at the delay, question it, until Brigs' voice rang out like the clap of hammer to anvil, and he did as he was told.<br><br>"You must go, Abigail.&nbsp; Get away from the road and hide.&nbsp; You must not be seen, you must not be heard.&nbsp; Keep safe, and keep what you hold safe until it can be used to punish those who ... to punish our enemies.&nbsp; &nbsp;We will lead them on as long as we can."&nbsp; Her mother nodded to her, a hint of a fierce smile upon her face.&nbsp; &nbsp;"The fog will come.&nbsp; Use it and the water, and your senses, to take you as far from here as you can.&nbsp; Trust wisely ... more wisely than did your father.&nbsp; Go now, and remember that you, and Collen, and Therese as well ... always have my love."<br><br>Her mother painfully leaned forward as the carriage rolled to a stop again, and pressed her lips to Abigail's forehead, and pulled her into a brief hug that was stronger than her mother's arms had been for a month or more.&nbsp; Abigail clutched her, refusing to cry, refusing to make her mother''s last memory of her one of weakness. <em> "I will.&nbsp; I love you ... Mother."&nbsp; </em>Then she was drawn away by Brigs' hand.<br><br><strong>"Set your case down.&nbsp; I will open the door, and you must jump, down into the water, as lightly as you can.&nbsp; It will hide your footprints and your scent.&nbsp; Wade down to the bend in the river, as carefully as you can, then exit the water upon rock if you can.&nbsp; Give them as hard a trail as you can to follow, just as you did your brother when you used to play at tracking.&nbsp; You are smart, you are strong.&nbsp; Do what you must, and when you can, bring those papers to your brother or to one he would bid you trust.&nbsp; &nbsp;Until then, until the truth is no longer hidden, you must hide yourself."</strong><br><br>Abigail wrestled against his hands as he tried to take the case, but then steeled herself and nodded.&nbsp; If Brigs was false, she was dead already.&nbsp; He could take what he wanted, and her heart knew that there was no treachery in the man.&nbsp; She nodded again, the three of them nodded together, and she did as she was told, perhaps the first time in ... ever ... without questioning it further, taking time only for one soft whisper, as steady as she could hold it.&nbsp; <em>"Thank you.&nbsp; Godspeed."</em><br><br>A moment later and she was in the water, mud and rock beneath her shoes and the cool flow tugging at her skirts.&nbsp; Brigs carefully tossed her sewing kit, packed with what few items she had grabbed as they made their escape in the wee hours of dawn, and she caught it, clutched it, attempting to burn the memory into her mind of her mother's face, of Brigs' concern, of Jake, the coachman's regret and worry that shone through his fear, and then she turned, hiked up her skirt as much as she could with one free hand, and started slogging.<br><br>Tears rolled down her face as she heard the 'Hyuh" of Jake's voice, and the sound of the carriage pulling away, leaving her with the sound of her movements as she waded, her skirts heavy and getting heavier with every movement. <br><br>They were coming, and if she were in sight when they did, it would all be for naught.&nbsp; She would be dead, or worse before ..<br><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Meg Haney</div><div class="spoiler_body"><hr><br><hr><div align="center"><strong>Brief Synopsis</strong></div><hr><div align="center">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 16pt;" class="bbc_size"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Abigail Meghan O'Hourihane, aka Meg Haney</strong></span></span></span></div><hr><br><strong></strong><br><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Brief Overview</span></strong><br><ul class="bbc_list"><li><strong>Name: </strong>Meg</li><li><strong>Gender: </strong>Female</li><li><strong>Age: </strong>22</li><li><strong>Species: </strong>Human</li><li><strong>Orientation: </strong>Heterosexual</li><li><strong>Height: </strong>1 meter 62 (5'4")</li><li><strong>Weight: </strong>54 kg (119 lbs)</li><li><strong>Relatives: </strong>Albert O'Hourihane (father/deceased), Regina (mother/deceased), Therese Mariset (sister/estranged), Collen O'Hourihane (older brother/missing)</li><li><strong>Settings: </strong>Fantasy</li><li><strong>Notable Interests: </strong>Books, History, Music, Riding, Botany, Needlework</li><li><strong>Related RPG Systems: </strong>None specific</li></ul><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Background Information</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">Abigail Meghan O'Hourihane is the third child of Albert and Regina O'Hourihane, born late to her parents, after her other siblings had left childhood behind.&nbsp; Her mother and father were once heavily involved in court life, and her father had the ear of the monarch and had been recognized and advanced for his counsel and his efforts in matters both foreign and domestic.&nbsp; However, as the king grew older, and power in other lands shifted, her father's opinion fell from favor.&nbsp; He, his wife, and Regina, retreated to a country life, as removed from court as could be managed, while Abigail grew. <br><br>She was educated in many different disciplines, from history to politics to economics by her father, and a different kind of history by her mother, the history that passes from mother to daughter and is rarely written in scholarly books.&nbsp; From her mother, she also learned to watch people, to see the motivations behind their actions, and to develop her empathic gift, though she had just a touch of it, a gift of the bloodlines from her mother's father's line that bred strongest in the daughters.<br><br>It was a quiet and peaceful life, though as Abigail set her feet upon the path that would take her from girl to woman, her father began making attempts to reclaim his old position.&nbsp; He wished for his youngest daughter to make a match better than her elder sister had, and for once, he ignored his daughter's wishes in favor of his own.&nbsp; Abigail had already given her heart, as well as other things, to the son of the town's healer -- though his love had proven insufficient to quell the lure of his dreams and ambitions.<br><br>It was her father's return to the murky world of court that planted the seeds of disaster, that, and jealousy and resentment.&nbsp; He had, by chance, stumbled upon a conspiracy rooted in treason to the crown, and had attempted to work his way into it, both to secure his return and for old friendships, old loyalties, to the king who had brushed him aside.&nbsp; He was discovered, but he managed to send documents to his son, Abigail's older brother, that would exposed the conspirators' deeds, but it was brought -- in error -- to his country home instead. <br><br>He paid for his daring with his life, and those seeking his papers came seeking them.&nbsp; His wife, his daughter, and his trusted retainer managed to get away, departing in a carriage.&nbsp; Abigail took her father's papers, and hid them in the false bottom of her needlework basket, which she had constructed to hide letters and keepsakes of her illicit love.<br><br>They did not travel far before their pursuers, armed men on horseback, caught up to them.&nbsp; &nbsp;It did not end well, and, thanks to her mother's wisdom, her family retainer's sacrifice, and her gift of empathy, Abigail escaped and fled on foot through the forest, her needlework basket clutched to her chest, with the hunters on her heels -- having gained just a tiny headstart due to her gift of empathy&nbsp; that she had managed to turn outward, spooking their horses.<br><br>&nbsp;</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Personality</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">Meg, the name that she decided to adopt in the hope that her father's enemies would not learn of her fate, is a serious-minded young woman, given to quiet pursuits and a love of learning.&nbsp; She is, however, somewhat headstrong, and does not liked to be pushed, pulled, or tugged to another's whims.&nbsp; Her empathy and curiosity regarding people is something that has not been totally well received, as in her younger years she was apt to blurt out questions that she did not fully understand why she should not ask.&nbsp; She still prefers to be blunt and straightforward, but she understands that this is not always welcome, so rather than change herself, she is prone to simply retreating into her own thoughts, her own company.</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Appearance</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong><span class="bbc_u">Body</span></strong><br>Meg is more or less average height, average weight, though in circles her mother had once occupied, she would have been thought undertall and decidedly 'not-willowy'.&nbsp; Her hair is chestnut brown and long, with curls. She is used to wearing her hair coaxed into a braid and pinned atop her head, a style that usually required help to attain.&nbsp; Her eyes are a mixture of blue and green, and tends to one of the other depending on what she wears, and the colors around her.<br><br><strong><span class="bbc_u">Clothing and Gear</span></strong><br>Clothing &amp; Gear</div></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Skills and Abilities</div><div class="spoiler_body"><ul class="bbc_list"><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Empathy </strong>Meg is adept at picking up on strong emotions and mood.&nbsp; She also usually has a good idea of people, animals, and even occasionally certain plants in the vicinity ... and can, under the right circumstances, tell whether the animals/people are possessed of strong emotions or calm</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Botany</strong> Meg is possessed of a green thumb, finding it easy to cultivate and successfully grow almost any flower, any garden plant, any herb that she has set her mind to.&nbsp; She also knows much of their properties -- what is good to eat, what is poisonous, what is medicinal, etc.&nbsp; Part of this is derived from her empathic gift, but much is simply learning from books and conversations</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Needlework </strong>Meg can sew, from practical stitchery to fanciful, decorative stitching.&nbsp; It is the one thing that always serves to calm her and comfort her.</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Archery </strong>She has some mild recreational skill with the recurve shortbow, but has only ever practiced at still targets.&nbsp; Because of her empathy, hunting is something that she has always preferred to avoid, and she has never yet been in the position of having to feed herself.</div></li></ul></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Major Flaws</div><div class="spoiler_body"><ul class="bbc_list"><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Naive</strong>&nbsp; She has been sheltered and spoiled, and this limited upbringing does not truly give her any insight into just how cruel the world can be.&nbsp; She thinks she knows now, but she has only scratched the surface.</div></li><li><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Stubborn </strong>She has been indulged in getting her own way, and she is disinclined to see herself as wrong.&nbsp; She wants what she wants, whether it be to go swimming in the lake at midnight, to have a tryst with a boy her father deems unsuitable, or to climb a tree to 'rescue' a stuck kitten.</div></li></ul></div></div></div><br><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Sexual Information</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: justify;">Meg is heterosexual, though her natural empathy and curiosity might expand on this given opportunity.&nbsp; Her sexual experience is limited mostly to a summer of innocent exploration that grew less innocent as the fall approached, culminating in the loss of the thing so many set such store upon.&nbsp; She found she rather liked what men and women do together, but some of her curiosity has been blunted by a heart that is more bruised than broken at the young man's flight.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her experience is not broad at all, but she is more likely to be intrigued by possibilities than repelled.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>21-02-2016, 03:51:09</strong>
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				<strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-DWfDQpvCyNk/UxgdK5AECwI/AAAAAAAAHHM/o_psgNRbCiU/w800-h800/13%2B-%2B1)</div>There were certain things Graham could hide from others, but not from Asher. He knew his lord was uncomfortable from his stiff movements, subtle as they were, and even though he felt guilty at pushing his charge to the point of pain, it was easily dismissed knowing that a hot bath and thorough massage would make up for it. That particular stretch of road was not safe; that it eventually led to the King did not help matters. Cutthroats and robbers always waited for the next easy prey and he was damned if they would be. That brief glance had been caught and cherished for the time it was bestowed upon him. He’d give a silver for each of Graham’s thoughts, which by the look of it, were plentiful.<br><br>When Graham addressed the three of them, Asher’s expression went immediately from playful to grave, his full mouth slightly turned downward in a more pensive expression. Grimsby was the one to try and speak out against his lord, wanting to inject a bit of optimism to abate the tension. He was silenced before anything came of his argument, and Graham reclaimed his seat on the saddle. They fell into formation and continued toward their destination in silence for the time being. Asher looked over at his charge every few minutes, wishing he could say something to lighten his spirits. But then, what could he possibly say? It was better to let him simmer until they could speak freely behind closed doors.<br><br>The haze was getting thicker, making the air sticky and nigh unbearable for Asher, though being used to the humidity helped him cope. It was more an annoyance than anything, especially since his blood seemed to run hotter than most. The small breezes that passed through every once in awhile were small blessings, and he willed the cooling sensation on his skin to last for as long as it could.<br><br>They were at the point in the road where it curved to the right, offering more fog with a longer stretch ahead of them. It seemed like it would be ages before they returned home, but he knew it was just his impatience getting the best of him. The scenery had much to offer; that much he was grateful for. The low-hanging fog covered much of the ground, but the trees were still untouched. The monotony of vibrant green was broken up by the occasional bright yellow and burnt orange, heralding the coming of autumn. Asher looked off to the side as he embraced the peace only the forest could offer, watching as small animals chased each other around a tree, how their presence caused a large bird of prey to seek refuge higher up in the canopy, even the flash of skirts passing from tree to tree as they followed the route of the river…<br><br>Asher blinked and did a double-take, then narrowed his eyes as he waited to see if it was a figment of his imagination or if he—- over there!<br><br>“Hoooo,” he exclaimed as he tugged on the reigns to his horse. The beast jerked his head, but complied, and the others followed suit. “There,” he pointed with an outstretched digit toward the area he saw the woman, “I saw a flash of skirts in the distance.”<br><br>That was when an awful baying echoed from a ways off, followed by the heavy glide of hooves and angry shouts of men.<br><br>“Who the fuck are <em>they</em>?” Roland grumbled, saying what they were all likely thinking. Asher couldn’t quite tell who they were by their clothing due to the fog, but he could see the glint of unsheathed steel ready for blood. At first it appeared the men — three and counting — were heading straight toward them, and perhaps would have if the hounds had not suddenly veered off the path in the direction of where he’d seen that mysterious flutter of skirts.<br><br>There were very few reasons why hounds would lead an entourage, and the realization caused his stomach to suddenly sink. He was not one to play the hero very often, especially if it would endanger his charge, but he could not, in good conscience, turn the other way. It would be different if the other party had authority, but at first glance he did not see any recognizable uniform that would indicate otherwise, and they were now on Ellery territory.<br><br>“We have ourselves some foul play, gentlemen. Lord Graham, Grimsby, try to get a good vantage point through the trees. Roland and I are going in and we’ll need the backup.” Another collective round of howls, more excited this time, carried through the woods back to the group. It meant the target was in sight and they were zeroing in fast. They watched as the horses failed to keep up their speed after following the dogs off the road, and the men had no choice but to continue their pursuit on foot.<br><br>“Gods damn this day,” he cursed and jumped off his own horse with Roland doing the same. “Spook their horses while you’re at it, I don't want them to have a quick escape,” he nodded to the awaiting guard and then they, too, were on the scent.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>23-02-2016, 12:27:11</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/1c/Graham_Ellery_2.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham had been in deep thought, never noticing the looks he got from Asher. It wasn't uncommon at all for the pensive lord to cause some concern in his bodyguard. His mood swung wildly from time to time, and he always seemed distracted by something. There was nothing anyone could really do about it. He had a lot on his mind, and none of it could be given to another to solve. It was his responsibility. With recent poor harvests, they were running low on food. The population was fond of the young Ellery lord, especially since he showed no sign of the insanity that had gripped his late father, but that fondness was not going to fill their bellies or those of their children. Lack of money, drought and famine. Oh, and winter was at their doorstep, if the former wasn't enough already.<br><br>The young lord was about to utter a sigh when he was interrupted by Asher suddenly stopping his advance. He turned his head to look where his bodyguard indicated, his gaze just quick enough to catch a glimpse of fabric, much like the roguish warrior had.<br><strong>"Asher! Keep your cool! Those aren't brigands!"</strong> Graham's commands fell on deaf ears as Asher already rushed off with his comrade-in-arms, leaving his lord to grumble at not even getting a calm ride home that day. He turned to look at Grimsby, who seemed confused as to what to do. <strong>"Follow me, let's find out who these men are before we slit their throats. It'll keep their eyes off of Asher and Roland, if nothing else,"</strong> Graham proceeded to urge his horse further up the road.<br><br>This was his home. He knew it like the back of his hand. As such, he knew exactly where the woman they were pursuing was going to go to ground, and their hounds would lead them. The perpetually cautious person in him warned him that perhaps stabbing first, asking questions later, was the prudent approach, but enough blood was being spilled of late and he wasn't about to add to it before knowing what was going on. After all, for all they knew, the woman in flight was every bit as guilty as these men believed her to be. Of course, vigilantism would not be tolerated by house Ellery; ever.<br><br>As Abigail would continue her flight - following the instructions she had been given - it was only a matter of time before she would run face-first into a solid pair of hooves that bore their way into the ground in front of her. Perched in the saddle, and looking down at her, was Graham. Sharp features were pensive and intimidating as he narrowed his eyes at her. She was tired, terrified and looked a mess; at least as far as he could tell. Without lifting his chin, his eyes darted up to look at the men that came from the river bed, their hounds ready to latch onto the fleeing woman.<br><br><strong>"In the name of house Ellery! Halt!"</strong> the command was decisive and strong, a hand resting on the grip of a crossbow that hung from the side of his steed. Grimsby had already drawn his weapons and urged his mount forward a few more steps to form a more able barrier between the pursuers and their prey.<br><br>A hand moved to rest upon his lap as he moved forward in a condescending fashion once he got their attention. Orders were barked, and the hounds ceased their advance, instead stepping in place anxiously as they could barely contain their frenzied excitement. <strong>"Mind telling me what you think you are doing in Ashburne? Sheathe your weapons and let your leader speak. Fail to comply and I will deem this an act of vigilantism. I believe we all know what the penalty for taking law into your own hands is, don't we?"</strong> the question was obviously rhetorical. Graham was not the best combatant in the land, but he did not need to be, his words carried weight and his body language always oozed confidence. Usually, that was enough to intimidate cowards like they into passivity. He looked down his nose at them, displaying his superiority in name and property. The state of his house be damned, he was a lord of the realm and he would always be treated as such whenever his back was not turned to the skeptical.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>25-02-2016, 17:27:38</strong>
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				<strong>Outskirts of Asburne - caught</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>Abigail had considered herself a hale, healthy young woman, and had done much to ensure that after the doctor suggested additional exercise to guard against the weakness of the lungs that had so plagued her mother.&nbsp; She had walked daily, save only when the weather was most foul, and she had ridden, played croquet, and, of course, there were always things to be fetched and carried for her mother even in a household with servants.<br><br>During her slog through the swamp, she had reconsidered her position on that.&nbsp; It was one thing to walk at at a leisurely or even brisk along a path, and quite another to slog through the swamp, wet skirts heavy about her legs and clinging, the sound of her own passage confused with the dread of pursuit, the need and determination to get away mixed with the fear of her own cowardice to abandon her mother and the servants who had been as much family as blood.&nbsp; &nbsp;Her lungs burned with the chore of breathing, her arms were scratched by briars and branches, bitten by mosquitos and midges and gnats, and she didn't even want to think about what might be beneath her skirts as she had exited the river only to cross a still, stagnant pool where overflow collected and did not drain when the river's flood level receded.&nbsp; &nbsp;Wet boots led to blisters, wet stockings to chafing, and when she had run headlong into a spider's web in the dimming light, she had not been able to prevent the shriek that ripped from her throat. <br><br>It was stupid, it was weak, and it was all too human.<br><br>That did not, however, keep her from cursing herself, fortune, and most of all the foul men responsible for the evils that had befallen her family as she heard the howl of a tracking hound in the distance.<br><br>Her eyes closed briefly, her thoughts coalescing on one simple thought sent out to the heavens, to herself, to any benevolent force that might be listening, or to the very devils of hell themselves.&nbsp; <em>"Give me strength." </em> Yet the thought was no despairing plea, no admission that the odds were so against her that a prayer was all the hope she had.&nbsp; It was, instead, a demand, a galvanizing force, and Abigail forgot all about the sticky web that covered her hair still like a torn veil, and forgot, too, of the hated eight-legged creatures who constructed and inhabited such traps.&nbsp; She forgot all but her need, her mission, and she ran on, hastened by determination as much as fear with legs lighter now that the underskirt had been discarded on the way to sink into the murk and mud of the swampland.<br><br>Where she was ... a mystery ... but she did what she could to foil pursuit.&nbsp; When the steadily closing sounds of the hounds made it obvious that concealment was no longer of use, she simply ran, as hard and fast as her flagging legs and will would carry her.&nbsp; Catch her they might, but surrender she would not.<br><br><br>The presence of mounted men in the distance went unnoticed, as did the nearness of a road.&nbsp; Had she seen them, she might have given up all hope, assuming them to be another group of those in pursuit.&nbsp; Nor did she hear the leader's commands, nor distinguish their circling or approach as anything distinct from her pursuers until the horse, a massive beast to her eyes, was there in front of her, barring her path.&nbsp; Abigail looked up, her face revealing fear and defiance as she panted for breath, still clutching her battered, muddy and bedraggled sewing basket in front of her as a shield.<br><br>Yet the mounted man did not seem to her as one of her pursuers.&nbsp; He had a thoroughly different feel, as if he were not set against her, at least, even if he bore her no particular sympathy.&nbsp; Later thought might yield an opinion that it was a reasoned response on his part, but for now, he represented simply a chance ... of escape, and survival.<br><br><em>"They attacked our carriage ... my <strong>mother</strong> ..."&nbsp; </em>There was no artifice in the breaking of her voice, nor in the accusation she hurled.&nbsp; Abigail knew it to be true, even if she had not witnessed it.&nbsp; Her mother was dead, she felt it in the glee of those who gave chase.<br><br>"My lord Ellery, we pursue a thief ... a woman of questionable morals who stole from my Lord's household when he foolishly employed her.&nbsp; Please, stand aside."&nbsp; The horseman spoke with the confidence of a man who, almost certainly, did not enjoy the same status as a nobleman, but one who was used to acting in their stead, upon their command. <br><br>Abigail's heart sank at the assurance in the charge leveled against her.&nbsp; Muddy, bedraggled, filthy, clutching her kit as if it indeed contained treasure, though it was certainly not pilferage.<br><br><em>"He lies, my lord.&nbsp; I have stolen <strong>nothing</strong>, and I know not who their lord is, though would that I did!" </em> She drew herself up, as much as she could, and lifted her head as she spoke, her eyes and will imploring the clear blue eyes in the face above her to hear her, to hear and believe.<br><br>One of the hounds, uncaring of the rights or will of those who were not his handler, or even perhaps of his handler when the prey he had chased was within both sight and scent, lunged against the leash that held him back, and the leash, the leather slippery from the dampness of the mist and the condition of the trail, slipped.&nbsp; <br><br>The hound did not bother with issuing a warning bark through perhaps he considered the growl as he leaped forward, muscles bunched, hackles bristling warning enough.&nbsp; His handler shouted and reached out, but the animal did not so much as slow at the command.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-03-2016, 00:36:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/21/19/542119af27b86b5be1e565be2cf2a8ad.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br>For those who didn’t know the land to the extent that House Ellery did, it would be a challenge to navigate effectively through the forest. There were so many variables working against a person, hidden dangers taking the form of poisonous plants and insects, pools of thick mud capable of pulling a man to his death, and the occasional large predator searching for an adequate meal. Not to mention the uneven terrain and twisted, gnarled trees that tangled together due to their closeness. One would argue that it was not the most welcoming of places. It was admirable that the woman had made it so far; it made Asher all the more curious.<br><br>Graham and Grimsby were the first to the scene, stopping right in front of her to accost the situation. Once they saw that the two men were armed, with Graham being the reigning Lord of the land, the pursuers stopped a fair distance away so they would not be perceived as a threat to anyone else. Asher and Roland brought up the rear, melting out of the forest like two forbidding fae creatures ready to protect their territory. The two kept an adequate amount of space between them and the men — all five of them. They had no detectable livery from Asher’s angle, and he liked to think he knew all the houses in their Duchy, as well as the others in the kingdom. It was his responsibility to know in case something like this happened. Mercenaries, then. They had no loyalties other than to the one with the fattest purse, so it would not be to anyone’s surprise to learn that Asher loved to despise those types of men above many others.<br><br>He listened to the exchange in silence, watching Graham’s features closely as the woman stated her convincing case. It was not his place to decide if she was guilty or not, nor was it his place to let the Wicked Sisters taste first blood. He was helpless to do anything until Graham made a decision.<br><br>Unfortunately, someone’s hand would be forced before his Lord was able to render a verdict, as one of the hounds — who had not stopped snarling and fighting against the rope lead — was able to wrench out of his master’s grip and head straight for the intended prey. Asher felt helpless to stop the catastrophe waiting to happen, and the tension was compressed into a few stuttering heartbeats as actions became swift. He had taken two long strides out of instinct, when the beast was thrown off his trajectory by an arrow which was suddenly buried deep in its neck. The animal barely had time to whimper its last breath before it perished… not five feet from the woman.<br><br>Grimsby relaxed his arm and set his bow across his lap, tossing an apologetic look toward Graham, but didn’t offer any type of condolence toward the man who went to gather up the dog.<br><br>Asher stopped him by grabbing the scruff of his cloak, and hauled him back, then pressed the tip of his blade under the man’s jaw for good measure. He was taller than the man, and his anger fed his strength, which was used to subdue the 'leader' of the pack of men, quite easily.<br><br>“I believe my Lord has asked you a question,” he all but growled, and when the man tried to struggle in his rage, he found it necessary to add a bit more pressure to the fluttering artery. “Might I remind you that all he has to do is give the word, and your life is forfeit. You’ve wasted our time and you’ve trespassed. Now, either explain to him,” Asher twisted the man, none too gently, so he would be forced to look at Graham, “or you can explain to whatever heathen Gods you worship.”<br><br>Roland put a sword against the spine of a man who would have gone to the other's rescue, and kicked his feet out from under him. Grimsby notched another arrow, daring any of the remaining men to reach for their weapons or let their control on the dogs slip.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>10-03-2016, 16:10:08</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham was no fool. Anyone with half a brain could tell not all was as it seemed, though in what capacity, he couldn't quite saw yet. He did not tilt his visage to meet the pleading stare of the maiden at his horse's hooves, though his eyes did dart down to her whenever she spoke. He carried himself with the dignity of a nobleman, something he figured the cronies in front of him would respect. They seemed the type to bow to their lords for some coin constantly. As shady as they seemed, Graham's uncle had always taught him never to take things at face value, in one way or another. He did not know the young woman, so he could not trust her word anymore than he could the others. Where did that leave him? Simple. The law would have to sort this out. But chasing through the swamps to have her torn to shreds by hounds was savagery and utterly despicable. If her family did wrong; if she directly did wrong - evidence was required. That burden lay with the accusers.<br><br>He tugged at his reign once to keep his mount from panicking at the constant sound of aggressive barking. <strong>"These are serious accusations. Where is the evidence for this? Or are we operating by a system where we lob people's heads off at the drop of a hat?"</strong> the young woman interjected, refuting the claims as any sane person would. He couldn't detect lies in her eyes, but then again, he had met many a good liar over the years. It was easy to see only innocence in eyes are intensely beautiful as hers. Before he could proclaim his decision and order the men to leave, however, hell broke loose for a few moments. The unleashed hound headed straight for the prey it had been riled up to want to shred apart, but was stopped by the timely intervention of Grimsby. Man needed promotion. In fact, they all did, but house Ellery was too poor. A mental note for some extra rations for the week was made instead. He would have felt shame at that if he was not otherwise preoccupied with the chaos at hand.<br><br><strong>"Let go of me, you swampland pig! That was a prized hound! You'll pay for-"</strong> the struggling soldier's words were cut short, impotent as the threats had been given the bead of sweat that had already begun its descent down his brow at the touch of Asher's cold steel.<br><strong>"Enough! Now you think to level threats?!"</strong> Graham would have no more of this. He was not in the mood to deal with squabbles and even though Asher could vouch for the fact that he wasn't the most easygoing of lords to serve, he only got quite so touchy when already in a bad place. With a poorly hidden wince, the young lord dismounted and took a few steps towards the terrified Abigail. A gloved hand reached out for her to help her up, after which he studied her face for a few moments.<br><strong>"Can you ride? Get on the back of my horse,"</strong> he nodded in the direction of the steed just behind him, while he turned his attention back to the hunters present.<br><br><strong>"We will pay for the loss of your hound, but you will leave these lands this instant. tell your lord to come to me with evidence so he may present his case to the king. Then this young lady's fate will be decided,"</strong> eyes narrowed dangerously while a single hand clenched into a fist. <strong>"The right way."</strong><br>He let the words sink in, and one-by-one, they began to sheathe their arms and reign in their hounds more securely than their officer had. <strong>"Do I make myself clear, sirs?"</strong><br><strong>"Perfectly, lord Ellery,"</strong> the answer was filled with vitriol, but Asher's skillful ambush left them outflanked, with no knowledge of the terrain, and down one hound. They weren't going to be risking any blood or diplomatic incidents over this. Not yet at least. If they were going to make a problem about it, they'd come back packing many more blades and trained hands. <strong>"Hard to leave with one of -your- dogs at my throat..."</strong> he added.<br><br><strong>"Only dogs hunt unarmed people down with the threat of death. My -men- have human decency,"</strong> a nod to Asher would be enough to relay the order of release, and Graham joined Abigail in the saddle of his horse. Angered eyes would bore a way through the backs of their skulls as they left. This wasn't over yet...<br><br><hr><br><strong>"My name is lord Graham Ellery,"</strong> he chose to speak only when he felt safe enough to do so, though he did not turn to look upon the maiden's face. An open palm motioned for Asher, who was riding beside him. <strong>"And this is Asher Bray. Captain of the Guard and my personal bodyguard. It is no overstatement that you owe your life to him; he is the one that saw you running,"</strong> credit where credit was due. He only hoped this wasn't going to compound the problems they were having.<br><strong>"Care to tell me why you disturb the peace in my swamp, my lady?"</strong> the question sounded like an accusatory stab, but it was in his nature to be skeptical of everyone and everything. Best thing to do around him was to never take it personally. He had meant what he had said. She was under his protection - what little that signified anymore - until evidence was produced and the courts decided. But, something told him there would never be evidence, nor would there be any sort of fair trial. Someone wanted her dead, badly, and they were going to throw their political weight around to see it done. He had his grandfather to thank for having enough empathy to put personal concerns last and a stranger's safety first...</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>14-03-2016, 23:22:11</strong>
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				<strong>Outskirts of Ashburne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>From the moment that word had reached them of her father's murder, Abigail's future had hung by little more than a spider's web.&nbsp; Strong though the sticky silk might be, each movement toward freedom risked bringing her closer to the spider's maw, whether as hoisted up for an immediate, still kicking snack or simply to be so hopelessly entangled that she could do nothing but await the spider's hunger.<br><br>Funny, then, that it was, perhaps, the ill-trained dog that she had to thank for providing the breeze of fortune that won her a momentary stay of execution. <br><br>Yet gratitude was not in her mind as the handler's leash snapped, and she had but a moment to react.&nbsp; She did not shriek nor scream, and nor did she run.&nbsp; There was little use in any -- the chase had run her to the ground, and what defiance and hope she could muster would be spent in one place as she drew herself up and braced for the impact, the fleeting hope that the hound's teeth would be quick ... but her legs had not the strength of her heart, and they folded under her,<br><br>Instead, there was only the thud of a distant impact, and then a more immediate one as the animal's impetus brought it forward, a few feet further before it fell, the arrow that had been loosed killing instantly, silently.&nbsp; The animal's mouth still opened in a snarl, the light of defiance still in the dark open eyes, teeth bared.&nbsp; It had had, she thought, wildly, not even realized it was dead before it was gone, and it had not so much as whimpered.<br><em><br>"That is how I would go,"</em> she whispered, closing her eyes briefly and tightly before turning her head to the direction from whence the arrow had must been loosed, communicating her gratitude in her gaze as best she could, though she did not speak.&nbsp; Her position was precarious, and more words might well cost her whatever sympathy she had gained, and for all that it galled her to be branded a thief, or worse, living so that she might see her family's murders done in kind was of far more import than pride.<br><br>Her attention divided between the man who strode forward to intercept the dog's furious handler, and the man upon horseback, servant and master, though it was, to her, obvious that the positions they occupied were founded upon respect, and without the servility of duty alone in the former's words as he demanded respect due to his lord.&nbsp; It was not merciful of her, but there was no mercy left in her for her pursuers, and with all her heart she wished that anger would overtake common sense, and any battle would be short, with those who had come after her enriching the swampy ground with their blood.<br><br>And then the lord slid down from his horse ... Ellery, he had given his name, but it was not one that her exhausted mind could recognize at the moment ... and moved toward her, offering his hand.&nbsp; She did not hesitate to take it, for her fate with the others was certain not to be at all to her liking, and the men who had found themselves embroiled in the mess at least offered the uncertainty of hope.&nbsp; His glove was the worse for the offer, for her her slog through the swamps had left her muddy, and little of her was clean now, save somewhat for her face, for she had taken a few moments to drink and to wash away the worst of the spattered mud and slime ... perhaps allowing them to come upon her, though men upon horses with dogs to scent her trail made it only a matter of time.<br><br>She nodded at his question, not daring further voice, and moved ... before he could change his mind.&nbsp; The basket in one hand, the mud, her soaked skirts, though lightened by the removal of the underskirts -- decency, she noted, mattered little when slogging through river or mire, made mounting more difficult than it might otherwise have been, but she managed by sheer force of will, determined not to ask for more help than she must.&nbsp; To be weak ... to display her weakness in the hope of garnering sympathy ... was not her way, and she had had little time to accustom herself to the idea that much of her way might well have to go to the wayside, like her underclothes.<br><br>The effort distracted her enough that she was surprised, almost, to see the leader of her pursuers give way, though with poor grace.&nbsp; Yet he was leaving, and that was all that mattered, for the moment.&nbsp; Abigail's head slumped, a long breath exhaled that she regretted the moment it had gone, for much of her strength seemed to leave with it, leaving her aching, exhausted, filthy ... and no true plan for what she must say to the questions that would be asked.&nbsp; They had had so little time to prepare for disaster, but that was, she supposed, the way of things.<br><em><br>"My name is Meg, my lord.&nbsp; Captain Bray.&nbsp; I owe you <strong>both</strong> my life, for had you not intervened ... " </em> She gave him her middle name almost without thought, though it cost her a pang in the doing, since none had called her that save for one, now gone.&nbsp; Yet to bandy about her history ... who know who might hear, and even if she could trust her rescuers with the full truth, the fewer who knew the more chance of safety she had. <br><em><br>"I am sorry, my lord, for trespassing upon your lands.&nbsp; I had hoped to elude them with help of the river, while they pursued my ... the coach."&nbsp; </em>Her voice broke slightly upon the utterance, but she paused, gathered herself, and forced the words out, though determination flattened them into a dry recitation that the sheen in her eyes did not support.&nbsp; <em>"But I fear that I did not count upon their dogs.&nbsp; My parents are dead, murdered by whoever employed those men, and had they succeeded in taking me as well, they would be free to tell whatever story they wished."</em><br><br>It was, she knew, not enough to satisfy, unless Lord Ellery, his rescuing knight sensibilities overtaken by practicalities, simply wished to extricate himself from the situation as painlessly as possible.&nbsp; Yet, perhaps it would do for now.<br><br>She was ... so very, very tired, and the grief that she had had little time to feel weighed heavily behind the iron doors of her will.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-03-2016, 02:27:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/21/19/542119af27b86b5be1e565be2cf2a8ad.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br><br>Asher kept his hold firm and steady as he maintained control of the ‘leader’, not bothering with a verbal response after being insulted.&nbsp; He’d been called many things, often, and the frequency of which they were delivered left him with a thick hide.&nbsp; Very few insults could be thrown his way that would goad him into a fight, and even those would have to be quite original and struck on a more personal level.&nbsp; However, the man on the other end of his blade might notice a bit more pressure at his spine.&nbsp; It was pleasing to see the sweat moving down his face as he realized the precarious situation he’d placed himself in.<br><br>He remained quiet as Graham performed his lordly duties by addressing the men, namely the one who threw around the insults.&nbsp; Asher’s back straightened as tension pulled the muscles tight once his charge dismounted to offer a hand to the damsel, preparing to leap into action should any of the intruders make a move toward his lord.&nbsp; Fortunately, she was brought to her feet without much fuss, and was left to mount his horse while the mercenaries were handled.&nbsp; Graham never let the authority he still held go to his head, and his decisions always came from a sound place.&nbsp; His level-headedness was admirable.&nbsp; Crystalline eyes shifted briefly to the lady, watching her mount Graham’s horse despite being obviously fatigued.&nbsp; How long had she been running?&nbsp; Her dress was clearly soiled, and were it observed closer, would no doubt have its share of tears.&nbsp; It boiled his blood to think what the men would have done to her had they not been stopped.&nbsp; He’d wager they would have taken their pound of flesh before turning her in.<br><br>Fortune favored her, and hers was not quite a sordid tale.&nbsp; Graham rendered his verdict and dismissed the trespassers.&nbsp; Asher released his hold and encouraged the man to move along with a none-too-gentle shove.&nbsp; They found their horses and moved out, leaving the four men in a very interesting predicament.&nbsp; With no family to turn to, and nowhere to go that wouldn’t be closely monitored by her pursuers, there was only one thing they could do, which was take her home.&nbsp; Graham had already said they needed evidence against her in order for a fair trial, and whether he realized it or not at the time, that put her in their custody for the time being.<br><br>They were introduced, and they now knew her name was Meg.&nbsp; His heart ached for the girl, which was not easily discerned by his stern expression.&nbsp; A nod was given to accept her thanks, and after she finished her explanation, he looked to Graham.&nbsp; “Better not waste anymore time here. She is tired and the horses need rest. I’ll need to rearrange the guards as soon as we get home.”&nbsp; Asher sheathed his weapons, and then claimed his mount with Roland.&nbsp; He waited for Graham to situate himself with the lady seated on his horse, all while hoping the whole ordeal hadn’t taxed him too much.&nbsp; He would help with whatever aches ailed him once they were home and all business concluded, but they needed to get their first. The order of guards was resumed, with Asher taking the lead, and once again they were off.<br><br>The ride back to Amberthorne was tense, at least for the captain; he settled in an eerie quiet as he observed their immediate surroundings.&nbsp; Fortunately, the rest of the way was nowhere near as exciting; it was quite dull, actually.&nbsp; He was even relieved to note the trail the mercenaries took after fleeing, which was down a road that would take them nowhere near the estate.&nbsp; A place that, other than the maids, hadn’t had the presence of a woman in a long time.&nbsp; A lady, judging by her attire and the way she presented herself.&nbsp; He was interested to learn who her family was — had been — and knew that Graham was likely wondering the same.&nbsp; They would get their answers, but that was not priority.<br><br>After what felt like an age, they arrived to the gates and were promptly let in by two men in house Ellery livery, who had been anticipating their arrival.&nbsp; They welcomed them home, though they gave Meg curious glances.&nbsp; Asher left it up to Graham to explain who she was, and headed straight to the house so he could make arrangements right away.&nbsp; The stablehands were waiting to gather the horses and guide them to the stables for some much-needed pampering, and Ricard, the butler, was waiting with his usual cantankerous expression to tend to his lord.&nbsp; He would not think highly of their guest and the danger housing her would pose.&nbsp; <br><br>Yes, better to let Graham deal with the explanations.&nbsp; Asher had a noble derriere to protect.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>01-04-2016, 11:44:25</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><strong>"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Meg... Though I wish it were under better circumstances,"</strong> Graham listened closely to what the young woman relayed, though he quickly realized the holes in her story were there intentionally. He didn't blame her for trying to obfuscate the whole truth, after all, why should she trust them anymore than she would the men that had been chasing her down with hounds? For all she knew, she had just traded one prison for one that was significantly worse. It still wasn't the smartest move for her to think he would not notice, and the brief glance he shot towards Asher told the other man enough. There was far more to this than met the eye. This wasn't the manhunt for a small sum of money or a tiny slight. This was significant, and the more Graham heard - or didn't hear - the more he began to regret having a conscience and not having been able to just turn a blind eye and let the men take her. That wasn't his nature though, not then, not ever, as much as his pragmatic side wished it were.<br><br><strong>"You'll be safe with us for now, my lady. I will make sure a room is made available to you. I'm sure you'll want to rest first, but I will provide food, water and a bathing opportunity. Use those as you see fit,"</strong> the girl was terrified, so he wasn't going to rail her for answers right then and there. He had priorities, but he wasn't cruel. She had nowhere else to run, so her sneaking out in the middle of the night was a significant off-chance. Any questions he had could be posed in the morning; and they would. Still, for the rest of the ride back to his mansion, the young lord was rather silent. Another problem on the heap, but for some reason, this one took precedence before all others in his mind. His territory's monetary issues suddenly seemed a distant problem. It was the injustice of it all. He'd think they were all still living like savages, judging by those that had been hunting her.<br><br><hr><br>Upon arrival at the Ellery grounds, they would be greeted by some of the house's staff. While Graham's domain would seem like impossible luxury for the common peasant, anyone of status would recognize that it only cemented the family's position near the bottom of the noble social ladder. A mansion of decent size was surrounded by gardens that lacked exotic plants, but had was exceedingly well-kept and retained its lush nature, despite the humidity of the wetland soil that covered much of Ashburne; which often caused rot to settle in the roots of plants not normally grown there. Around the grounds were reasonably thick and high walls that discouraged intruders and would be able to ward off a minor offensive. But, it was all far from a massive castle that required an army to run efficiently.<br><br>Upon entry, everyone dismounted and their horses were handed off for care in the stables. As per custom, Graham offered the young woman his arm as he approached his butler. The man immediately pulled his nose up at her, as he seemed convinced they'd found some commoner to bring home with them. A relic of his father's reign, the man was a complete bastard, but there were none better at their work than he. He had opinions and judgements on anything and everything, but he kept them to himself even if his expression betrayed them. He'd have been kicked out long before then if he did not work for much less pay than he deserved and kept the household running as smoothly as humanly possible.<br><strong>"Ricard, inform the head maid that the lady here will be requiring a room, a meal and a warm bath drawn. Give her the bedroom opposite the master suite,"</strong> there was a reason for that proximity. What better way to make sure Asher could keep an eye on any excursions she might be thinking of making? After all, the man slept in Graham's room far more than anywhere else...<br><br><strong>"As you wish, sir. Will you or master Bray be requiring anything?"</strong><br><strong>"No, thank you, we will tend to ourselves, just make sure the lady finds comfort and time to recompose herself. Roland, post a guard down the hall from her,"</strong> when the orders had been given, Graham wanted to personally escort the young lady to her quarters, another glance at Asher making it clear he expected the bodyguard to follow. He needed him to hear anything that was said. A second pair of ears were needed to get a second opinion on everything.<br><br>Double doors were opened for them at the peak of the steps leading up to his mansion. Inside, the decorations were tasteful, and nowhere near as decadently lavish as one would expect from his counterparts. Much of the decor hearkened back to better days for the Ellery family, depicting moments of glory and triumph of a variety of ancestors throughout centuries of history. Plant pots, drapes, carpets, everything even remotely decorative had some story behind it, giving everything a bit of an eclectic feel as well. But, it worked to establish a place that immediately felt like it was someone's home, not just one of several abodes scattered across a massive domain. The main hall immediately gave a view of a large set of stairs that would guide them to the second floor.<br><br><strong>"Tell me, my lady, how did you manage to elude capture for so long? Judging by your garb and your fatigue, you muts have been running for quite some time,"</strong> he just did not get the sense from her that she was some experienced trailblazer. She must've gotten help. If that help were now coloring the swamp's soil red with their blood, those bodies needed to be found. If nothing else, it would help a vigilante case.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>07-04-2016, 20:04:55</strong>
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				<strong>Safe -- for now</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>The assurance of her safety was not one that Abigail ... Meg ... Meg ... best get used to it now and forget that the other name ever existed.&nbsp; There would be a surname required, and her own should not be bandied about.&nbsp; Her mother's name, then.&nbsp; Though it was a noble name itself, the area where it would be readily recognized as such was distant enough that it seemed as close to safety as she might get.&nbsp; &nbsp;She met Lord Ellery's keen look with one as steady as the tremble of her flesh would allow, but he did not voice his doubts and she did not offer.&nbsp; Whatever else he might be, he was wise enough to understand that this was not the time to make bare his knowledge of her half-truths.<br><br>She was grateful for the other man's practical suggestion, for all the stoniness of his face as he addressed his lord.&nbsp; It was not, she thought, for the benefit of the man whom he addressed, nor even at the inconvenience she had caused, but because he was a man of action who wasted little time on the details when assimilating the big picture.&nbsp; To such men she had always been drawn, so far as seeking their acquaintance and counsel, and to such a man she had once hoped to bond her future.&nbsp; Yet this was not the time for such thoughts, either, and she cursed the weakness that made her eyes burn hotly and her throat to swell.<br><br>She had best follow the good example, and she did not bother her rescuers with idle conversation.&nbsp; Nor did she even think on the story that she must weave when the inevitable questions that would be asked were.&nbsp; She was simply too weary, body and soul alike, for the moment.&nbsp; The feel of the man behind her was warm, though again the state of her dress was surely not kind to his traveling clothes, and steady, and the motion of the horse and the movement of his chest and hers lulled her into a sort of miserable stupor that she entered without protest.&nbsp; The aches of her body, the aches in her heart, were steady now that she no longer had to focus every thought and movement into keeping moving.&nbsp; She clutched at the basket she carried, and though she did not sleep, her faculties retreated, letting body, mind and heart begin the exhaustive process of healing.<br><br>She roused as the horses slowed, though her body was stiff beneath the mud-laden day-dress, and if it were not for the assistance of the lord in dismounting and walking, she was well aware that even the pretense of dignity would have been stripped from her, but at least she would arrive upon her own two feet.&nbsp; Her stamina would see her through that, and, oddly, the butler's obvious disapproval of her presence strengthened her spine and even had her swallowing to keep a laugh, wild as it would have been, from breaking free from her throat as he looked down his nose at her.<br><br>The lord's estate was rather the size and keeping of the one that had been her father's after his circumstances were reduced.&nbsp; Meg could barely remember the grander home they had occupied when he had favor at court, save for bits and pieces, though she had learned that she had no liking for the grand homes that were milling with servants.&nbsp; Even a few were enough for her to sometimes feel like a an animal in some zoological garden, pacing behind bars with every move under observation, though she had certainly found ways around that. <br><br>As things were put in order, Meg forced herself to walk as if she were making her entrance to some grand ball she had not wanted to attend, though the state of her shoes made her gait uneven, and she dared not refuse Lord Ellery's arm for fear of stumbling, even had she wanted to.&nbsp; All the same, they were all that much closer to the accounting, and one that she would not seek to put off, however much she might have wanted.&nbsp; Simple gratitude demanded as much courtesy as was hers to give.<br><em><br>"It seemed long indeed, and judging by the light, much of the day.&nbsp; I found places to rest, before I heard the dogs, and the river ... and the mud, too, I suppose, helped.&nbsp; My mother ... and the carriage ... went on, hoping they would follow and that I could escape.&nbsp; It worked for a time ..." </em> Meg's voice was monotone, and she looked straight ahead as she spoke, her eyes locked upon the furnishing and decor to avoid any sense of sympathy that might release a floodgate of tears ... as well as any overt show of doubt or disbelief that might prompt anger.&nbsp; Losing her head might bring some surcease from sorrow, but it was a luxury that she could ill afford.<br><br><em>"After they caught up with the carriage, they were able to backtrack.&nbsp; Had not the men with dogs arrived, it might have worked.&nbsp; My mother ... and our retainer, and coachman ... were killed.&nbsp; They bragged of it on the chase, hoping, I suppose, that I would think escape a lost cause, and certain enough not to care if they were heard ... though I expect that they thought their only witnesses were birds, squirrels, and an army of mosquitoes."</em><br><br>Meg smiled a little at that, a bitter little expression, and her head lifted, baring a mud and insect-bite splattered throat, her expression mulish ... though her mother would have deemed it 'stubborn' instead, rejecting the common and possibly more truthful adjective.&nbsp; <em>"I would not have surrendered, even so."</em><br><br>It was that same stubbornness that kept her moving, and at least now she had the certainty of the promise of a bath to motivate rather than the determination that she would be no easier quarry than she could help.<br><br>And, as if realizing that her show of grief was insufficient for the words she had just uttered, she stopped, and turned to look first at Lord Ellery, and then his man striding behind.&nbsp; <em>"My mother's lungs were not strong, my lord.&nbsp; The doctor in the village had offered little hope that she would survive another winter, or indeed that she would see the coming of autumn.&nbsp; &nbsp;I hope ..."&nbsp; </em>Meg's mouth opened and closed in silence a few times as she struggled to force out the rest of the words, but they refused the demand of her mind, leaving her to press her lips closed and shake her head, her eyes imploring that they did not press her on that hope, at least not until it rested easier in her mind.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>24-04-2016, 04:16:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/21/19/542119af27b86b5be1e565be2cf2a8ad.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Graham immediately took charge once they were home, and while his guardian did not openly refute any of the decisions he made — being the head of the house, as it were — Asher found himself feeling a bit apprehensive with the lady being housed just across the hall from Graham’s bedroom, even though he understood why it was necessary that they keep her close.&nbsp; Easier to watch her under their cloak of protection.&nbsp; His concern was less for the sake of propriety and more about protecting that noble neck he favored so much.&nbsp; He didn’t believe Meg had any malicious intent toward his lord, but what about those who hunted her?&nbsp; Of course, Asher knew that Amberthorne was reasonably guarded, even if he felt that there would never be enough trained bodies to properly sustain an organized attack.&nbsp; Mouths would always be hungry, and the gold would eventually run out.<br><br>He only had himself to blame for inviting trouble to their door, but that did not cause him to regret saving her.&nbsp; At the time she had no one to stand up for her and step between the bloodthirsty men and their hounds.&nbsp; And, he convinced himself, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that Amberthorne faced strife.<br><br>With Graham’s silent indication that he was to participate escorting Meg to her room, Asher quietly fell into step behind the pair, and she was given a platform to tell her story.&nbsp; He kept close, prepared to help catch her if she lost her balance so Graham wouldn’t have to on his own.&nbsp; Those tender joints were likely singing with pain.&nbsp; Nothing he could do about it until later.&nbsp; For now, Meg was the focus.&nbsp; And, thinking on her words, one thing he noticed immediately was her strength, and whether it was prior knowledge of how to care for herself in the woods or sheer determination to survive, she’d earned his respect.&nbsp; She said she would not surrender at capture, and while a bold claim, he believed her.<br><br>They stopped in front of the door that was now hers for the time being, and she looked from one to the other, exposing just a crack of vulnerability in her fortress of fortitude.&nbsp; Standing there before them, insect-bitten skin covered with mud and leaves stuck in her messy hair, with her dirty, shredded dress stubbornly clinging to her body, looking to lost and yet still unbroken, he affirmed that he could not regret his actions.&nbsp; The instinct to protect surged forth, and he casually clasped his hands behind his back to fight off certain impulses... to maybe pluck the leaves that dared defile her hair, or worse, wrap her in his arms and become her shield.<br><br>Instead, he offered solace in his soft tone and accommodating words.&nbsp; “Easy, my lady.&nbsp; You need not push yourself for answers, and we will not pry anymore tonight.”&nbsp; He quickly glanced at Graham, knowing his compliance would help put Meg at ease.<br><br>Down the hall from which they just traveled, something was making its way toward them with even, determined clicks.&nbsp; Asher knew that stride from anywhere.&nbsp; Sara, housekeeper of Amberthorne and wife to Ricard, carried herself with that same no-nonsense air that her husband did.&nbsp; She was middle-aged, her dark hair streaked with gray pulled to the back of her head in a tight knot, making her expression appear all the more severe.&nbsp; She carried her willowy frame with a straight back, refusing to bend from fatigue after a full day’s worth of work.&nbsp; She was not alone.&nbsp; Trying to keep up with her were several servants, sharing the load of carrying buckets filled with steaming water while Sara held an armful of towels and clean clothes.<br><br>By herself, she was a force to be reckoned with, and the men would be helpless to stop her from sweeping Meg away and helping her get situated.<br><br>Asher opened the door to the chamber, and Sara stopped before Meg to give her a lookover.&nbsp; The scowl she wore coming down the hall was similar to her husband’s, but it softened as she took in the state of the young woman before her.&nbsp; Many questions swarmed inside her, and she kept them locked up.&nbsp; Her greatest concern was getting her charge bathed and rid of any blood-sucking vermin stuck to her skin.&nbsp; “I can take it from here, my lord,” she nodded to Graham and Asher both, then let relief brush some of the tension away from her eyes.&nbsp; “Welcome home.”&nbsp; From there, she turned to Meg and gently coaxed the woman inside, offering assistance in case she lost her balance.&nbsp; “My name is Sara, my lady.&nbsp; Are you injured anywhere…”&nbsp; Her voice faded as they went into the room, followed by the entourage.&nbsp; The last servant offered a shy smile and closed the door behind her.<br><br>With Meg out of sight, he was able to relax.&nbsp; “Been a while since we’ve had a lady present…,” Asher slid a hand across the base of his neck as that uncomfortable thought made a home inside his mind.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>03-05-2016, 16:17:27</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Much like Asher, Graham was certainly impressed by the fortitude the young woman displayed. IT was rare to see someone from her background grow courage and backbone more commonly found among those who toiled in hardship from day one. It wasn't fair to judge a book by its cover, a thought that was certainly reinforced by the showing she made. She looked an absolute mess, there was no other way to describe her state of dress. But that didn't seem to matter much, because she still carried herself with dignity and when she proclaimed that she would never have surrendered to her pursuers, even Graham's ever-present skepticism and cynicism had to back down and yield to the fact that she probably never would have. It was impressive to see, and it was only by virtue of the presence of other individuals that Graham was able to suppressed a slight smirk of amusement and bemusement. The smirk would have been doubly inappropriate though, given the tale she had just recounted for them. She'd lost her family and her livelihood.<br><br>If anyone could relate, it was the young lord.<br><br>Asher cut the conversation short, though the appearance of Sara certainly added to it. The intimidating woman would have their heads if they caused their visitor any further distress with their questions. He shot a glance back at his old friend, a look that implied the intense curiosity that the Ellery heir always had. But, he knew when to give up. Sometimes, Graham could come across as cold, and overly calculating. He had to be, though, even if it was just a facade. Sometimes, he simply struggled with putting himself in the place of another, with imagining what it was like to not obsess over details and want to resolve any given problem immediately. He sighed internally before turning back to Meg. She needed to be cleaned up. She needed to eat. She needed to sleep. All of those were base necessities for anyone to function. Asking for more from her was cruel.<br><br>He took a step forward and took her hand gently. <strong>"I will send out patrols to find out what became of your mother. Maybe she yet lives,"</strong> it was a fool's hope, and he knew that she was aware of that. But, he was not going to potentially condemn survivors to the harshness of the swamps at night, not when they were ill and perhaps injured on top of that. <strong>"If you and yours have been unjustly persecuted, than these men will answer for it. I promise you this,"</strong> his hold on her hand tightened slightly, in a comforting gesture rather than a threat. <strong>"But do not lie to me. Only the truth will help you at this moment,"</strong> was that a threat? Slightly. He would not harm her himself, but if she was not forthcoming with everything that had transpired - painful or no - a case for her would be hard to construct, and the executioner's axe might be the only thing in store for her.<br><br>Having said his piece, he brought her hand up to his lips for a bow and a kiss, before letting her be ferried off into the room with Sara. <strong>"Good night, lady Meg,"</strong> after the door closed, Asher's words were mirrored by a heavy sigh from Graham.<br><br><strong>"Just what we needed, isn't it, captain?"</strong> with a shake of his head, he turned away and headed towards his chambers, which were indeed merely across the hall from where they had found some lodging for their surprise visitor. Already, his mind was obviously working overtime to figure out how to tackle this issue. He wanted to muse over her behavior and words with his confidant, immediately spinning an equal number of schemes and solutions. But, for once, he caught himself in the act. Stressing over this was only going to make his headache worse, and his joints act up even more. The day was over and done with. Time for rest. Or an attempt. The next day was going to show whether concerns were going to keep piling up.<br><br>There was always a guard stationed outside of his quarters. At least, whenever Asher wasn't present anyway. A few words were exchanged to have the man leave his post for the night. He could inform his superior officre that some scouts were needed to head out into the swamp looking for a carriage matching Meg's description and near where she had been found running. It was unlikely they were going to find anything but the wooden frame, robbed of bodies and belongings. Her hunters knew she had the protection of house Ellery, so they would have backtracked to clean up after themselves...<br><br>Standing outside his bedroom door, he left his hand on the handle of the barrier and turned to his dearest guardian. <strong>"I need a bath. I might get lonely though,"</strong> the offer was obvious, despite hushed tones. He fully expected Asher to follow him in as he opened the door into his private bedchambers. From the perspective of the observer, it appeared as though the master bedroom was his, and his alone. But that wasn't true. Those keen to spotting details would be able to recognize Asher's influence. The arrangement of some of the furniture to better benefit Graham's protection, the presence of a trinket or work of art that was to Asher's taste and not his lord's, as well as some clothes stashed away in one of several closets. They shared that room, almost daily.<br><br>Graham did not like hiding what they had, but both men understood why it was important to do so. House Ellery did not need another blemish, even if such relations behind closed doors weren't really frowned pon anymore. But, Asher was not of noble blood, which compounded the issue into something that could prove problematic to Ellery's already strained political connections. They were one setback away from complete poverty and famine. They did not need any more reasons to fear starvation.<br><br>As he crossed his bedroom towards his private bathroom off the side, Graham undid the buttons of his jacket and tossed the garment in a random direction, not really caring where it went at that point. <strong>"I got us involved in something bad, Asher. I can feel it in my gut,"</strong> he was going to relax, but that didn't mean he could shut up about business completely. This was as good as it was going to get. <strong>"There is more to this situation than meets the eye. This all seems like a great deal of trouble to go through for that young lady,"</strong> he wanted to get the bigger picture, but he needed to wait.<br><br>They did not have to have buckets of water ferried over. Plumbing was an expensive endeavor in their times, but those with enough status could have the luxury of being able to pipe hot water to them. The running stoves would do just that, and a hot bath was being drawn. It was more than large enough to fit both grown men. Provided they got comfortable with a little contact. Graham then moved to sit on the edge of his bed, reaching for his knees with a wince and a sigh. He felt weak. He always did when they acted up. What he wouldn't give for the intimidating frame of his uncle...</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>08-05-2016, 21:58:57</strong>
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				<strong>Safe -- for now</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>As she was ushered into the room that seemed to have been given over to her use, Meg turned her head for a last look at Graham and Asher, her expression showing a hint of pleading before she reclaimed possession of it and let gratitude and exhaustion shutter all else.&nbsp; &nbsp;The small troop of servants were, in some ways, a blessing, for they would likely not seek to peer beneath the surface, should she act as they expected her to act.<br><br><em>"I have no injuries of import, Sara.&nbsp; I am afraid my clothes are in a much sorrier state than I am myself ..."</em><br><br>Her words were brave, and imbued with as much regretful forebearance as she could muster, when all she wished to do was fling herself upon the nearest surface and beat upon it and howl until exhaustion claimed her.&nbsp; That would not take long, she was certain, but it was a luxury she could ill afford.<br><br>Instead, she allowed the tutting of Sara to wash over her as the woman took charge of organizing a bath, and sending one of the servants to the attic, giving specific instructions as to which trunk should be opened in a manner that led Meg to believe that, like the housekeeper who had been with her family for as long as she could remember, she knew where every forgotten thing in the household was stored.<br><br>The tub was quickly filled with warmed water and the servants set to various tasks in making the room ready and seeing to her comfort while Sara took charge of Meg's undressing, something that Meg appreciated more as her muscles stiffened in response to the abuse they had endured during her long slog through the river and swamp.&nbsp; Sara's sympathy for her sorry state was genuine, and took a back seat to the practical in remedying it,&nbsp; and though she exclaimed over the first few bruises and scrapes, it wasn't long before she simply kept up a steady barrage of light talk that was both bracing and soothing as she got Meg into the tub and scrubbed the mud away as gently as could be done and leave her clean. <br><br>True to her words, Meg was not injured beyond the normal scrapes, cuts, bruises, and bug bites that her path to escape had made inevitable.&nbsp; There were also several ugly swellings with a red circle in their center where leeches had latched on, and Meg shuddered at the sight of them, remembering the feel of the rubbery little bodies stretching beneath her fingers as she had pulled them off and flung them away.&nbsp; As bare leg beneath the skirts were revealed, Sara' chatter died away, and she fixed Meg with a long look of sympathy that registered immediately through the exhaustion.<br><br>"Did the men harm you, my lady?&nbsp; If they did, there are things that should be done so that no worse hurt comes of it." <br><br><em>"No, they did not touch me.&nbsp; They did not catch me until the time where your master intervened.&nbsp; I removed my underskirts so that I could keep running.&nbsp; They were so heavy ... with water and mud."</em><br><br>Sara gave her a long, searching look, and Meg only sat back, closing her eyes with a little groan, until the other woman gave a sharp nod.&nbsp; &nbsp;She did not ask directly what had happened, but the series of question that were peppered in with her flow of chatter were so innocently placed, so guileless, that more than once Meg almost found herself saying more than she should ... at least, more than she should before she had time to think, to become accustomed to the new waters that she must navigate.&nbsp; Not only must she survive, she must also make certain that the proof she held come to light where it could see those responsible for the ruin of her family exposed, and punished.&nbsp; What the men might have done to her once they found her, whether they would have comported themselves as the worst of the breed, or simply have dispatched her and left her body to sink into the muck and mire ... it did no good now to think of such things.<br><br>At last, Sara was satisfied that her charge was clean, and the worst of her cuts and scrapes were dressed with a substance that felt somewhat greasy upon her newly cleaned skin, and stung like salt water or worse for a few moments until the burn receded, taking with it the worst of the discomfort.&nbsp; An overlarge night shirt, pressed into service, was slipped over her head, and Meg was bundled into the bed, where she fell asleep before the servant who brought a bowl of soup upon a tray and a steaming cup of tea could arrive with it.<br><br>"Leave it," Sara instructed softly as she ushered the girl out, before she drew the drapes and then followed.<br><br>Meg slept, and for a while, exhaustion kept the dreams at bay ... but eventually, they found her trail, and pursued with baying voices that sleep could not long ignore, setting her eye to darting beneath closed lids as she sought some avenue of escape.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>13-05-2016, 01:30:24</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br>Asher had kept quiet during the exchange between Graham and Meg, having already circumvented his lord in her defense one time too many.&nbsp; He tried not to undermine Graham’s authority in the presence of outsiders, though when he found it necessary he made sure his approach was as gentle as possible.&nbsp; He respected his charge’s command, but at times he needed a nudge in the right direction.&nbsp; Thankfully, he took the hint and after a few more words with the lady, he allowed her to be ushered off by Sara… or rather, he was forced to let her go as the force that was their&nbsp; housekeeper took control.<br><br>That final look she’d tossed over her shoulder hadn’t gone unnoticed, however.&nbsp; It was like a punch in the gut, but he knew she was in capable hands.&nbsp; The best, in his opinion.<br><br>Graham’s words made him briefly ponder the severity of their situation, and wondered if it was <em>exactly</em> what they needed.&nbsp; True, the lady had some hounds chasing her, and it would only be a matter of time until they showed up at their door, but Asher would be ready to defend.&nbsp; He couldn’t bring himself to regret following his first instinct, which was to protect and serve.&nbsp; He was compelled to defend those who couldn’t do for themselves, and when he saw Meg being violently pursued by those mercenaries it triggered something in him, and his body was no longer his own to control.&nbsp; Ah, well.&nbsp; Something to worry about in the morning, he concluded as he watched Graham make his way toward the master bedroom.&nbsp; He could tell just by his gait that his joints were protesting something fierce, and at that moment all worries shifted to his lover.<br><br>He followed his charge inside the room, and was relieved to finally have the freedom to strip away all formality and become more relaxed in their privacy.&nbsp; The last few days had been brutal; it always was when Graham was off-limits.&nbsp; Their house could put the pieces of their relationship together, but they were loyal enough to keep silent on the matter.&nbsp; If one thing was certain, it was that the Lord of Amberthorne protected those who served him as he would family, and they were not hesitant to show their gratitude.<br><br>“You’d have to chain me in the catacombs in order to keep me away,” he teased, following suit and leaving a trail of clothing as the bath was being drawn, “...even then, I’d still find my way back to you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.&nbsp; He worked out of the armor and protective layers underneath, feeling relief once all that was left were his trousers.&nbsp; Of course, his weapons were set close to the tub out of habit.&nbsp; There wasn’t a time when they were out of arm’s length.&nbsp; Ever.<br><br>Asher went to Graham and knelt before the bed, his patient hands working on the rest of his clothing.&nbsp; “You will feel better after a hot bath,” he casually explained, pulling off one boot, then the other.&nbsp; There was a lot more left unsaid in his suggestive tone, and he turned those bright eyes up to his lover, full of pent up desire.&nbsp; “Look at it this way: there is nothing you can do tonight that will change anything for the future, so for now, let us put that matter aside and focus on each other.&nbsp; I need you.”<br><br>His hands slid up Graham’s legs, thighs, then moved inward so he could begin working on loosening his pants.&nbsp; By that point he was stationed in the gap between his lover’s legs, and instigated a slow, loving kiss as he finished undressing him.<br><br>The bath was ready, and Asher led him to it, helping him get in, then settling behind him so his hands were free to roam wherever they wished.&nbsp; “It’s only been a few days, but I’ve missed this.&nbsp; Now, be kind and allow me to do my duty, mm?”&nbsp; Asher took his time bathing them both, keeping his movements slow and gentle, yet firm enough to remind Graham just who was in control that night, and after a couple of hours relearning each other’s bodies, they settled beneath the covers and attempted sleep.<br><br>Asher stayed awake for a while listening to the relaxing rhythm of his lover breathing, and eventually shut his mind down enough to get some rest.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>17-05-2016, 21:34:33</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham's worries ebbed away at the sight of his beloved removing the cloth that prohibited him from studying his chiseled form. The young lord was hardly out of shape, but the difference between the two was more than noticeable enough to distinguish their roles at a glance. One was the mind, the other the body. Of course, that would be a disservice to the ingenuity and wit Asher brought to the table, but they still had their own strengths. They complemented one another in much the same way their fathers had before them; probably even more, given the nature their relationship had taken on years prior. A grin would tug at Graham's lips at the end of Asher's approach. It turned into a full smile when the other crouched between his legs and helped him with the last of his own garments.<br><br><strong>"If I didn't know that every touch of yours was blissful, I'd complain that you're coddling me,"</strong> the man smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked down at his bodyguard. Further words were temporarily silenced with a kiss, which the nobleman made sure to have last as long as their breaths would allow it to. Once the contact broke, he exhaled again, eyes meeting one another. <strong>"You always do,"</strong> he chuckled before getting up from his seat. <strong>"Come. That bath can't end soon enough,"</strong> as much as he knew his lover's soothing touch was going to help his muscles, it was obvious he now wanted something far more physical and intense.<br><br>He slept well that night, a fact entirely attributed to Asher's attentions. Yet another favor Graham owed the other man. The tally was starting to get skewed something fierce. It needed rectifying.<br><br><hr><br><strong>"There has to be someone we can lobby with. We may not have money, and your name may not be what it once was, but we still have some power to offer. Knowledge, secrets and insight, to name a few,"</strong> the voice that spoke was the soft, raspy vocals of an aged man well in his fifties. Sporting a bad back from past wars, as well as several scars across his neck as souvenirs of years spent in captivity, his expression showed nothing but concern.<br><strong>"All of which are meaningless in the current climate. We're not the only nation struggling with a bad harvest and an even worse merchant's season. Everyone is reaching for their coffers to count how many coins they have left,"</strong> Graham waved a hand in the old man's direction as he dismissed the angle as unfeasible. <strong>"When they find out how little that is, money becomes the only currency they listen to,"</strong> a grumble passed the man's lips as he circled the meeting table at which only Asher and lord Stanton sat. The other two members of Graham's inner circle were off on important duties of their own. A pity, he could have used their council on this matter, though he was skeptical they would have any other ideas.<br><br><strong>"Then you must concede that you need to plead for aid from the Crown. Your pride will survive, young lord,"</strong> Stanton knew he was walking on eggshells with that subject, as evidenced by a cautious glance sent Asher's way. Surely the bodyguard would also realize that their hands were tied.<br><strong>"It's not a matter of pride, damnit! I've long since moved passed giving a damn about being the capital's laughing stock as I plead with the very king that lobbed my father's head off his shoulders,"</strong> Graham moved to lean with his forearm against the frame of a window opposite the large table. It offered him a decent view of the grounds outside, despite the lingering darkness of the early morning. <strong>"Aid from the crown will come with strings attached. Strings that'll probably seal Ashburne's fate for good. I know the bastard's been kicking himself for years now; ever since he agreed to the terms that not all my father's grounds would be divvied up among noble vultures,"</strong> a heavy sigh followed, as well as the shake of his head.<br><br><strong>"Still better than starvation for your people."</strong><br>Graham turned to face Stanton. <strong>"Is it? I do believe judgement on that waits to be had. I'll find some way to fill the granaries. I always do."</strong><br><strong>"Yes, you have the remarkable gift of being able to pull solutions straight out of your behind, my lord, no matter how deep you have to dig. But you've never had to contend with the drought and empty coffers together and to a degree you are now. We need help. Besides, the deal has not fallen through yet, correct?"</strong><br>Graham scoffed. <strong>"Optimism from you, lord Stanton? Now I know the situation is desperate..."</strong><br><br>It was this noisy, albeit heavily muted conversation that Meg would perceive as she waited outside the meeting room before she was allowed in. After the usual morning meeting, the matter of her situation would be brought up. Who knew what was going to be decided now that moods were so sour?</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>21-05-2016, 04:17:34</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>While listening to a conversation that was not meant for her would have been deemed the height of bad manners by her mother, Meg had fewer compunctions.&nbsp; That she did not move to press her ear against the wall or the door had more to do with pragmatism about burning bridges for too little gain than any worry about protocol.&nbsp; Still, the occasional word confirmed much of what she had already ascertained, having deflected many of Sara's questions with her own and making good use of the trait of young maids to want to talk -- particularly to one close in age whose station was questionable and manner was approachable.<br><br>The Ellery household was in financial difficulties, and Meg knew only too well the kind of strain that put on a household, and its lady and lord.&nbsp; Graham Ellery was not married -- so Sara had revealed -- and was apparently not looking to improve his fortunes the time honored way.&nbsp; That left a much narrower field, or so what she had learned from her family's own situation as her father tried to recapture what had been lost.<br><br>Her own intelligence, what she could hear as she admired the paintings on the wall, the furnishings, and the view from the window, and what she had discovered was enough that she could easily grasp the gist of the situation.&nbsp; Now, all that was left was how it affected her, and how it could be put to use.&nbsp; Such thinking was cold, she knew, but perhaps what could help her could help this household as well -- but first, she must decide if it was worth squandering her meager resources.<br><br>Yet even as she thought of practicalities, Meg could not help but remember how quickly both he and his manservant ... and friend, by the look of things ... had stepped in to save her, when their own situation likely wanted prudence, and no costly trouble that might bring the ire of a foe of unknown resources.<br><br>Meg was dressed in a hurriedly altered day dress that Sara had provided.&nbsp; It was a generation or more out of date in fashion, smelling faintly of sweet herbs that had been folded into it in whatever trunk had been its resting place.&nbsp; The color was not one she would have chosen, but the daffodil yellow flattered her hair and complexion, making her look as if she had climbed out of the pit rather than was still struggling on its slope.&nbsp; Her hair was freshly washed, and brushed until it shone before being braided in an attractive style, her best feature certainly at the moment.&nbsp; Her eyes were steady and determined, with only the bruises beneath them and the faint red cast to the whites to show that she had wept when she was finally left alone.<br><br>But weeping was done, at least until she was again alone.&nbsp; She would not let her mother's, or that of those who had been loyal to her family's, sacrifice be made in vain.&nbsp; <br><br>When the elder man exited the room, Meg turned, but did not waste a smile.&nbsp; The elder's expression told well that he was not in any mood to have the courtesies of strangers forced upon him, though she did incline her head in a gesture of respect that marked her as one who was used to having retainers rather than being in service herself.&nbsp; She got a quick glimpse of Asher as the door was open, something that reassured her somewhat and lent her courage as she contemplated the wisdom of throwing in her lot with the two men who were, undoubtedly, the reason she still lived ... or at least were in the company of honorable men rather than those who would use her for her own designs.<br><br>Of that she was certain, and it was that fact that gave her some hope that she might have something to offer them, even as it furthered her own need.<br><br>When the moment presented itself, she made her presence known formally, squaring her shoulders as she took a deep breath and made ready to throw herself once more into the grasp of fickle fortune with little more than hope, and a wing and a prayer.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>24-05-2016, 01:11:13</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br>Asher was left no choice but to sit in austere silence as the two nobles bickered, but he did not do so idly.&nbsp; He was very much engaged in the conversation, taking it all in as the two batted the idea of going to the king for support back and forth at each other.&nbsp; It was not a comfortable discussion, knowing it was that very monarch who put both of their father’s to death, but Graham claimed his refusal to reach out was not a matter of pride.&nbsp; It was being practical.&nbsp; He had only a fraction of power left, and his hold on the land was tenuous at best.&nbsp; If Graham sought aid more times than was deemed appropriate, King Ivern could very well decide that the young lord was not fit to rule an ant hill, much less a duchy, and strip him of land and title.&nbsp; He would lose everything.&nbsp; But they needed to think of the people, as that was where Graham’s loyalties lie.<br><br>While their fuses simmered, and since they had reduced themselves to petty jabs, Asher decided to offer his own thoughts.&nbsp; He cleared his throat, looked to his lord, and calmly started to explain his position in a deferential tone.&nbsp; “I think Lord Stanton brings up valid points.&nbsp; That is not to write off your concerns, but if King Ivern wanted the ‘strings attached’, he could come up with ways on his own… without you needing to strike a bargain.&nbsp; Let us not take that option off the table if things become dire.”&nbsp; One could argue that things already <em>were</em> dire, but they still had a couple of playing cards up their sleeve.&nbsp; If all other tactics fail, the king would need to be a last resort.<br><br>And, turning to Stanton, he put some steel in his voice so the man wouldn’t question who he was being addressed by.&nbsp; Frustration and concern were acceptable things to vent during discussions, but Asher would only allow things to escalate so far before they were forced under control.&nbsp; Whether by Stanton’s own self-preservation or Asher’s firm hand was up to the elder noble.&nbsp; “The deal is still on the table.&nbsp; You need to have more faith in your lord, and trust that he will consider all available options.&nbsp; He will do what is right by his people; you already know this.”&nbsp; He turned that crystalline gaze back toward Graham as he finished.<br><br>“Well, I’ve said my peace.&nbsp; I'm sure the others would agree with me were they here, but the burden was left up to me to convince you.&nbsp; Obviously I've failed.&nbsp; There is nothing more I can say that will persuade you one way or another, so I will take my leave.”&nbsp; He sounded disappointed that his position wasn’t taken as seriously as he’d wanted.&nbsp; Somehow he thought his experience would sway Graham easier than it did.&nbsp; Stanton rose from his chair, walked behind it to tuck it in beneath the table, offered Graham a slight bow and Asher a nod, then turned on his heel and walked toward the door.&nbsp; A servant who’d been standing off to the side, ready to carry out orders of refreshment or, in Stanton’s and Meg’s case, usher people coming and going, helped the older man into his coat, then had him out the door, though leaving it open to extend invitation to another.<br><br>It was Meg’s turn to enter, and Asher looked to his left to watch her approach.&nbsp; She had cleaned up nicely.&nbsp; Fresh clothing and a long bath provided by their finest housekeeper brought a bit of life back into her; her posture alone was a little less weary than before.&nbsp; “My lady,” he offered, sliding out of his chair and bowing his head.&nbsp; He would have provided more pleasantries if the situation were different; he hardly deemed it appropriate to ask if she slept well, so he said nothing more.&nbsp; House Ellery prided itself with having impeccable hospitality, and refusing to allow that reputation to tarnish, he had an empty chair out from under the table and awaiting her attendance, and only when she was properly situated did he reclaim his own seat.&nbsp; Her chair was equal distance between his and the one reserved for the master of the estate, with her back placed strategically to the door so she wouldn’t feel cornered.&nbsp; He could tell by the lingering redness in her eyes that she’d had a hard night of mourning all that she'd lost.<br><br>They all had that in common, at least; losing their family in one way or another.&nbsp; But while Graham and Asher had each other, she had nobody.&nbsp; Only them; for however long that arrangement lasted.<br><br>They were about to find out.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>30-05-2016, 11:57:35</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham crossed his arms over his chest as Asher interjected. The bodyguard had a talent for cutting through all the bullshit and just laying things out the way they were. He was the perfect sounding board, but at the same time, he was the worst at helping to actually finalize a decision. He'd made both Graham and Stanton's viewpoints sound correctly reasonable, making the choice even harder for his lord to make. But that was the whole reason Asher was always there. In the comfort of that meeting room, surrounded by guards and patrols, he had far less need of Asher's blade at all times. He was there to be the voice of reason that would calm nerves and make sure people didn't start strangling each other on top of the meeting table.<br><br>Of course, none of it actually solved the problem. Skeptical - and cynical - as always, Graham no longer trusted the deal they'd set out to make would pan out, and he desperately needed a fallback plan. So far though, there was nothing that came to mind, except for Stanton's suggestion, which Asher seemed to think might not be such a bad one in the first place. He'd need to come to a decision, which both other man surely knew. But Graham was already certain that appealing the king was the equivalent of signing a death warrant. The fact that his people might not be as rebellious and may not have the luxury to stand on principle, did not factor into his consideration yet; after all, he was blinded by a hatred of his country's monarch. It was so very easy to lose sight of the bigger picture, that the common farmer finds it far more important to have food on the table for his family, than to win some battle of lofty ideals.<br><br>As Stanton made his way out and Meg entered, he finally spoke up, forcing the elderly nobleman to halt in his tracks and return to his seat. <strong>"Lord Stanton, I want you here for this. Lord Bray, as well,"</strong> Asher could usually safely assume his presence was desired in any given meeting, but Graham still often felt the need to confirm. Finally, he turned away from the window and faced the young lady that had entered the meeting room. He greeted her with a humble bow of his head, before circling around the table to sit down at the head, from where he had risen moments earlier when the discussion had grown heated. Graham figured she had heard a fair share of it, given that she'd been waiting outside. He was curious whether or not she would choose to use any of that information against them. Asher seemed fond of her, seemed somewhat trusting, but the jaded lord was more skeptical. She had been wronged, no doubt about that, but she was still a child of blue-bloods - however low on the totem pole - and if there was something that most of the nobility were, it's opportunistic. If she was anything like that, she might want to use that knowledge to secure her position, because right now, she had everything to lose and precious little to gain. Not a good position for anyone to be in.<br><br>He reserved those thoughts for himself of course, instead sitting down and planting an elbow on an arm of his chair. From there, he watched her for a few silent moments, while Stanton returned to his seat with a rather surprised expression on his face.<br><strong>"Lady Meghan, I hope you were able to get some rest?"</strong> it was a rather silly question, he knew that much. She'd probably only gotten some sleep because she was utterly exhausted. Beyond that, nightmares plaguing her mind were likely to take up the norm of her nights from thereon out. <strong>"I know this is a difficult time for you, but the longer we wait before we can get a good idea of your situation, the sooner I can get a detailed word out to the king's court. Hopefully, they will seek to resolve this issue in a fair trial, which would exonerate you of any wrongdoings you've been accused of,"</strong> ever the cautious individual, Graham made sure he never once let out implications that he believed her or not. From her point of view, he would likely appear as an impartial arbiter. While cold, that was probably the best thing she could have at that moment.<br><strong>"If you could tell us more about your family's lord, and what exactly transpired to have him turn his ire on you so... vehemently?"</strong><br><br>Why was lord Stanton still there? The elderly gentleman didn't seem to know either.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>02-06-2016, 03:51:46</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>That the situation of her host and rescuer was grave was not hard to discern, even if she had not heard something of the conversation. There was tension in the air that was palpable, though of the three men, Lord Bray seemed the least tense, though Meg did not think his demeanor stemmed from any lesser investment.&nbsp; Perhaps he was one of those men who simply refused to entertain the possibility of defeat, whatever challenge might present itself.<br><br>The simple realization came close to swelling her throat closed with emotion, but to give into it would not honor her family, but rather allow those responsible for its destruction to write its close in ignominious failure -- or worse.&nbsp; &nbsp;Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment to cloak herself in calm, and then took the chair that Asher offered, sinking into it rather stiffly.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Thank you, Captain Bray."</em><br><br>Though she had been given excellent care in the time that had passed, she had pushed herself well beyond the demands her body had been used to, and every muscle felt it still today, for all Sara's ministrations.&nbsp; &nbsp;Though she had slept, her mind had settled on no set course.&nbsp; Though there was no guarantee of what her father's adversary would do.&nbsp; &nbsp; If her brother still survived ... if he, too, had fallen ... either might increase her danger, or a measure of safety.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had only her instincts to fall back on, and her instincts led her to trust her mother's instincts.&nbsp; She had been determined that Meg would survive, and it was that determination rather than her own survival, that had guided her choice.&nbsp; It had led Meg to cross the path of two lords that had intervened to prevent injustice, where many would not.&nbsp; It had granted her time to breathe, to recover, and hopefully she could put that time to good use.<br><br>However, the presence of Lord Ellery's advisor, whatever official capacity he possessed, presented an additional quandary.&nbsp; While her instincts told her that she could trust both men who had come to her defense, she did not know Lord Stanton.&nbsp; However, his insistence to that Lord Ellery appeal to the king for assistance had not sounded like blind faith in a mythical being who wore the crown, but rather a familiarity with the process, and suggested he might well have contacts and knowledge that might be invaluable ... could he be persuaded to employ them in her aid.<br><br>Yet, for all that she wanted to trust, her father's adversary was also a man of some means.&nbsp; What would he offer simply to have the danger to his plans eliminated?&nbsp; &nbsp;Enough to turn the fortunes of the Ellerys, and thus those who aligned with them, around?<br><br>Her eyes moved from man to man to man, settling on Graham as he spoke.&nbsp; Oddly enough, the fact that he did not rush to assure her that all would be put right in her favor was a mark in his.&nbsp; She had seen many an empty-headed lord, soldier, or commoner alike lose all sense when offered the opportunity to save a damsel in manufactured distress.&nbsp; If he had been such a fool, in all likelihood she would be lost.<br><br>There was a pause between Graham's final words and her first while Meg attempted to pick a stable path from the scant possibilities laid out before her.&nbsp; Her face did not hide her indecision, nor her fear -- not so much for herself as for the potential of failing.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet a choice must be made, and when one did not have knowledge, then one must rely upon other gifts.&nbsp; One last time, she glanced at each man in turn, and then nodded her head.<br><br><em>"The men who pursued me, my lord Ellery, served no lord of my family.&nbsp; My father's allegiance belonged to the king and the king alone, though mistakes of his youth had seen him dismissed from court.&nbsp; His name is Albert O'Hourihane, and though he had fallen from the king's favor, there are none who would call him thief, nor his children ... though I have heard that my brother once spent a month as a stable hand after stealing a pie from the window sill of a neighbor as it cooled when caught with the stain of its berries upon his shirt and lips."</em><br><br>Meg gave a small smile at the remembrance, though the recent events were still too raw to allow much humor.<br><br><em>"Some months ago, my father learned that a former contemporary was engaged in what my mother called 'questionable activities'.&nbsp; He, believing my father's situation had made him bitter toward the throne, drew my father into his confidence, and my father thought to discover more in the hope that, should what he learned prove to be valuable, it would allow him ... us ... a return to court.&nbsp; &nbsp;Unfortunately, things did not go as he had planned.&nbsp; We received word of my father's murder, and warning of the danger, with little time to prepare.&nbsp; I am afraid there is little that I can offer as proof of my words, save for the good word of those who knew us.&nbsp; My father's name is Albert O'Hourihane, my given name is Abigail, though Meghan is my second name, in honor of my mother's mother, late of Carsley."</em><br><br>She had considered dissembling, but that seemed poor thanks for their rescue, and she had learned from experience that truth served better than any lie.&nbsp; It was her father's lies that had, ultimately, been his downfall, however pure his motives.&nbsp; Had he simply gone with what he knew to those equipped with more than heart and hope, perhaps he would live still -- with less gratitude, perhaps, but how much use was gratitude to the dead?<br><br>Meg's eyes stung, but she blinked it way.&nbsp; Tears would serve no purpose here and now, save to weaken.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>06-06-2016, 01:26:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br>It wouldn’t have been the first time Lord Stanton attempted to add more weight to his argument by being dismissive, and it also wouldn’t have been the first time that he was called back to the room —whether to be chastised or to continue discussions after Graham reasserted himself.&nbsp; It was understood that tempers would flair when debating on issues that would affect the entire duchy, but the advisors were still expected to maintain a level of decorum and respect for their lord.&nbsp; As Stanton came back into the room, Asher watched him from his own seat, raising a brow to silently mock the man as he reclaimed his position opposite Meg.&nbsp; He was too proud to appear embarrassed; in fact, he was every bit as arrogant as he normally projected.<br><br>Graham took his own seat at the head of the table, facing opposite his captain.&nbsp; Asher looked from Stanton to his lord as he spoke, then turned to Meg as the question they’d all been waiting for was finally asked.&nbsp; He was fully engaged on what she had to say by that point, though his posture was casual and relaxed.&nbsp; Shoulder-length black hair was tamed by a cord at the nape of his neck, and his face was shaved clean just before breakfast was served.&nbsp; It wouldn’t be long before the stubborn growth started to darken his jaw once more.&nbsp; His habit was usually to let it grow for about a week before he sheared it again, but he made sacrifices when it was time to present himself in a formal setting.&nbsp; Eyes shining with a clear vibrancy were set on their guest, and he listened as she gave them a tale that justified her sadness.<br><br>Her father’s name could have sounded familiar, but it hardly stood out from any other noble he’d heard of or met over the years.&nbsp; What happened to him was regretful, though it wasn’t surprising to hear he died while being caught up in political intrigue.&nbsp; A lot of men in the same position would have followed his exact course, especially when he wanted to do right by his family.&nbsp; Unfortunately, putting one’s trust in the wrong hands and speaking freely when one should keep quiet was a lesson all of their fathers learned, only the men lost their patriarchs years prior, whereas her loss was still a fresh wound.<br><br>Asher wanted to offer her words of comfort and understanding, to let her know that she wasn’t exactly alone in her plight, but he and Stanton kept quiet as they turned their attention to Graham.&nbsp; It was his reaction that they were waiting for, with Asher looking at him in askance.&nbsp; What one knew the other often did as well, but it was possible that Graham had heard of her father when he personally couldn’t recall any details of the man.&nbsp; His charge had been right when he said they couldn’t afford to get involved, and yet here they sat, delving deeper in her troubles.&nbsp; He wasn’t going to object, however.&nbsp; Her story was a familiar one, and he couldn’t help but wonder if certain events were related, at least partly, to each other...<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>13-06-2016, 15:31:14</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham watched Meg closely, possibly reading her visage as much as he listened to her words. If she was lying, then she was one the best obfuscators of the truth he'd ever seen. Given Graham's involvement in politics, he'd seen a fair few of those pass by. But no, she did not seem capable of hiding the truth from them in that situation. Still though, there was a reason why lord Stanton was still there. The old man would not have a direct say in the matter or a direct sway on the young lord Ellery's decision, but his insight was invaluable. It wasn't a big secret that, despite having governed the Ellery lands for a number of years already, there were still many areas where Graham was lacking. Wisdom and knowledge were two of those; both of which came best with age. As Asher would most likely love to point out, Stanton definitely had age on his side. And so, once she finished with her brief recounting, he turned his gaze to the elderly lord.<br><br>Stanton seemed to piece together what his superior wanted from him, so he cleared his throat and looked over to Meg. His voice was much calmer than it had been during the earlier discussion that Meg had caught the tail end of. Its tone was soothing and gentle, despite a layer of aged grit. Grey eyes showed genuine sympathy and no small amount of compassion. He could be a handful, but he wasn't a bad person. Merely... sometimes he was too busy with the political side of issues for his own good, or that of his humanity.<br><strong>"First and foremost, lady O'Hourihane, my condolences and sympathies for your loss and what you have been forced to go through. If you have indeed been dealt a grave injustice, I am certain the crown will see to it that recompense finds its way to you,"</strong> he started, before coughing slightly to clear his throat. <strong>"I knew a O'Hourihane a long time ago. I would wager it must have been your grandfather. Through him I heard of what befell your father. Why has there never been any public attempt to counter the allegations of treason that took his life? Do you possess tangible proof of his innocence?"</strong><br><br>Graham interjected before she could answer, his arms crossing over his chest. <strong>"Please understand, my lady, that we do not mean any disrespect. But if we are going to put ourselves at risk, we need to make certain we are doing so informed, and with conviction. You will find that the men and women of House Ellery lack conviction until they see adequate proof,"</strong> he continued to be perhaps more pragmatic than he should, but these affairs were sensitive, to say the least.<br><br><strong>"If such proof exists, could it be used to shed some light the men hunting you, and their benefactor? If your father's innocence or their implication in the first place can be revealed, the court is sure to take your side,"</strong> Stanton continued. she would need to be careful with her answers. Something about Stanton's body language seemed to imply he knew more about her family and their tragedy than he led on. Was this some kind of test?<br><br><strong>"Do you possess anything else that may support your claims? Any proof beyond your word and ours that these men had engaged you and your family? And if we levy claims against them, what could their counter-argument be?"</strong> Graham's eyes narrowed. <strong>"Any skeletons in the closet we should be aware of that could be used to discredit us?"</strong> he knew nothing of her family, beyond some basic hearsay, such as where their ancestral domain lay. He needed some time to research, beyond her own answers.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>15-06-2016, 01:19:10</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>Meg was well aware that her every word, her every movement, her every tremble, and even her every silence was being evaluated.&nbsp; She felt very much as she had when her admittedly ill-conceived romance had come to light and she had been called before her mother and father, with the household's most trusted retainers -- the witnesses to her indiscretion -- sitting uncomfortably in the room, eyes kind but wishing they were anywhere but there.<br><br>The thought, and the memory of the moment, stiffened Meg's spine.&nbsp; <em>"Please, call me Meg, or Miss Haney.&nbsp; &nbsp;I would not cause you more trouble than I can help, nor draw attention to myself.&nbsp; For now, my father's name is a beacon, and though my hope to slip away undiscovered is foiled, I fear it is still the best option.&nbsp; I thank you for your sympathy all the same."</em><br><em><br>"My father tried, my lord, but as I understand it, there were extenuating circumstances. To prove his innocence must damage one to whom he owed much, so he accepted the stain and tried to live as one whose past mistakes could be forgiven.&nbsp; I am afraid that if there is proof that he was not deserving of the disgrace that saw him fall from the king's favor, then it lies in the hand of my brother, or is lost."</em><br><br><em>"To the point of the man who set his dogs upon my family, yes, I do believe that there is proof.&nbsp; No doubt Lord Ellery and Lord Asher already have discerned that from the fact that I clung to this basket all through my trek through the swamps, even after I had discarded both shoes and every article of clothing modesty would allow.&nbsp; In it are the documents that my father's most trusted retainer brought to us with the warning that we must flee.&nbsp; Some are letters between my father and these men, suspicious certainly, but not so damning that they cannot be explained away.&nbsp; The others ... they are not plainly written.&nbsp; My father, you see, was something of a diplomat in his youth, and took pride in the ways he had developed of passing information under the nose of the unwitting."</em><br><br>She did not answer Lord Ellery's question regarding skeletons.&nbsp; There was only the one, of her own indiscretion, but while she was in full agreement that it had been a mistake in hindsight, she was not ashamed of it - but still, she would not willingly admit to it in such company with no more reason than she possessed.<br><br>Her eyes moved from one to the other, from the older retainer to Lord Ellery, and then to Lord Asher, where they lingered the longest.&nbsp; For some reason, her cheeks heated faintly when he met her gaze, and Meg gave a long, shuddering sigh.&nbsp; There was but one thing more she could offer, and while a small part of her wished that she need not lay her troubles upon her rescuers -- who seemed to have troubles enough of her own -- seeing this through to the best of her ability must be her first concern.<br><em><br>"I hope you will pardon me for bringing up a matter whose knowledge was not given me, but I do understand the struggles that burden a household from time to time.&nbsp; My Lord Ellery, perhaps I might have a solution that will somewhat ease both our burdens."</em><br><br>It was a risk, but Meg already believed these men were honorable, certainly moreso than the men who were her enemies.&nbsp; Slowly, she reached into the basket, still damp from its cleaning after the trek through the swamp, and withdrew a necklace, heavy with gold and sporting a trio of rubies, well cut.&nbsp; The piece was many years out of fashion, but worth a tidy sum all the same.&nbsp; <em>"This necklace was my mother's, part of the dowry from her family, and a piece that would be more to them than sold upon the street.&nbsp; You have the resources I lack, while I have something that would at least lessen your immediate troubles.&nbsp; I offer this, for a place of safety in your household, and whatever efforts you can offer to get discreet word to my brother of our mother's fate, and that which I hold.&nbsp; He has the talents to read the documents ... if I cannot discern the code, I am certain that he can."</em><br><br>Of course, they might well have descended upon her brother, just as they had upon her and her mother.&nbsp; Perhaps her sister could have read the papers as well, but that door had been closed, as surely as the door between herself and her parents.<br><br><em>"I do not claim that the necklace's worth can offset the troubles I may bring you, my lord, but if there is no outcry, or if you give out that I took ill after my jaunt in the swamp and fever has robbed me of my memory or wits, perhaps they would think themselves safe."</em><br><br>Meg truly did not know if this was a workable plan or something born of too much reading of the wrong kind of books, as her father had often accused, but it was all that she had been able to conceive.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>27-06-2016, 03:51:27</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Asher remained quiet while Stanton and Graham questioned her; together, the two of them asked the most pertinent question regarding her situation, while expressing just how precarious of a position that simply housing her under the Ellery name put them all in.&nbsp; Graham wanted to make sure it was clear that they needed evidence to both defend her and hold those hunting her and her family accountable.&nbsp; They knew she had the answers; whether she would grant them access to all of them was entirely up to her, but neither of the three men would let her feed them bullshit.&nbsp; Not when they had so much at stake.&nbsp; Asher shifted in his chair so he was leaning more to the side, propped up by an elbow on the armrest as he listened intently.&nbsp; Anything he would have wanted to know from her was already taken care of with their rhetoric, and after everything was laid out, all eyes were turned to her expectantly.<br><br>She’d already divulged that her father had planned on getting back into the king’s good graces by taking matters into his own hands and uncovering a traitorous plot against the throne, but had lost his life before he could accomplish his task.&nbsp; As she spoke, she revealed that she had in her possession the evidence to hold the plotters responsible… if they weren’t written in a way that was not easily decipherable.&nbsp; He found it both intriguing and infuriating, and as his eyes flicked across the table to Graham, he could only assume that his lord’s opinion would land more toward the latter than the former.&nbsp; It meant there was one more obstacle between the evidence they needed and releasing the Ellery estate.&nbsp; If her enemies produced something more substantial against her, she could already be sunk too deep in the mud to be pulled free.<br><br>Meg looked between all three men, with Asher turning his attention back to her just in time to meet her gaze and be held by it.&nbsp; He noted the change in her coloring, and wondered if she thought he was the safest route.&nbsp; Graham had been gentle with her in his own way, but he could come across as cold and stern even at his most considerate.&nbsp; She seemed to have more to say, releasing a breath in preparation for what was to come next.&nbsp; Asher was still silent, but he gave her a small, yet encouraging nod to proceed.&nbsp; It was to say that even though her burden was heavy, she still had support as long as she gave them the means to properly do so.<br><br>She produced the basket she hadn’t parted with since her rescue, and reached inside to pull out a necklace glimmering with precious jewels.&nbsp; And although there was no outward indication, Asher felt his heart take a dive into his gut.&nbsp; With her family gone, she would need things to remember them by; keepsakes that were unreplaceable.&nbsp; The value of such a trinket would not be able to save Ashburne, but it said a lot about her character that she would at least try to compensate them for their trouble.<br><br>As much as he wanted to tell her to put it away, he knew the decision was ultimately up to Graham, so instead of causing confusion by possibly giving her conflicting orders, he spoke out on another point.&nbsp; “My lady,” he paused, then quickly corrected himself, “<em>Meg</em>, if you know where your brother may be located, then we can send word that you are safe.&nbsp; However, spreading lies would not save you, I’m afraid.”&nbsp; He leaned forward while he spoke, placing his arms on the table and crossing them without a break between his words, “When bargains struck in the dark are brought to the light men start fearing for their lives, and as you’ve found out, that makes them quite dangerous.&nbsp; There will be an outcry, and nothing will save you but the truth.”&nbsp; His tone was calm and matter-of-fact.&nbsp; He wasn’t accusing her of anything; he was simply stating what he knew.<br><br>“Any code can be cracked, and with your brother not readily available, it could be quicker if one of ours had a look at those letters.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>08-07-2016, 15:35:42</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Both Stanton and Graham listened closely to what she had to say. Her situation was a precarious one, to say the least. What evidence she could bring to the table might exonerate her family and incriminate her enemies instantly, but they were largely unintelligible. Even if they could be deciphered, maybe their validity would be put into question? If they managed to make sense of them, they would need to document exactly how they did so, so that it could be reproduced. Graham's eyes glanced often from her back to Stanton, as if he was checking up on something in between every block of speech from the young woman. The elderly steward met that gaze each time, with an inaudible conversation going on between them. In truth, Graham trusted Stanton's abilities to tell truth from lies. Ever since he - and Asher for that matter - were children, the man could recognize dishonesty from a mile away. It was a useful little trait, to say the least. Beyond that though, Stanton was likely somewhat more familiar with her family than Graham was.<br><br>In the end though, Stanton had no further questions to ask, and his demeanor was a clear sign that he believed Meg was sharing the truth. Graham remained silent for the time being, even as she began to speak of Ashburne's precarious, monetary situation. It prompted his eyes to narrow as she pulled free a beautiful necklace. Graham could pitch a good sale if he wanted to, making the odds of him getting a hefty price for that 'trinket' high. As she laid it out on the table before her, he rose up from his seat, circled the table's corner and approached where she sat. He reached for the necklace, almost as if he was going to accept her offer. The young lord studied the jewelry, some admiration in his eyes for the cut of the gems. This was not an heirloom that should be rotting away in the trunk of some greedy collector, or suffering rain showers on a stall on a busy market day as it is being shilled off to yet another owner. This was something to be passed down generations, as a means of connecting ancestors and their heritage. And so, he gently placed it back into the box where she had taken it from and shook his head.<br><strong>"I do not want your money, my lady. People steal what few things others have left far too often in this world already. Keep it,"</strong> without wasting more words on the subject, he turned around and started walking back to his seat, though he did not sit down.<br><br><strong>"Captain Bray, I agree. Lying is only going to dig us a hole that we can't escape from if our deception is discovered. And, honestly, we do not have the resources to make this mansion any less of a sieve for informants. We will operate on the side of the truth, as we all should. You have your wits. And you are dangerous, my lady. They know this, we cannot stop them from knowing this,"</strong> he tapped the edge of the table a few times with his fingertips as he turned his gaze down to the wooden surface for a few moments. After a while, he set his hues upon Asher.<br><strong>"Captain, in accordance with any information the lady O'Hourihane can provide, learn of her brother's last whereabouts. Do not do it in person, use some of your sources. I do not want anyone from Ashburne making their investigations known. Once you find him and..."</strong> he looked over to Meg for a split second, before continuing. <strong>"If he yet lives. Find a way to bring him here safely. If he really can decipher those documents more easily than anyone else, we will need him to expedite this process."</strong><br><br>He then turned to Stanton for his next command. <strong>"Lord Stanton, I need you to look into the O'Hourihane family name. Dig as deep as you can for anyone who may still have strong enough ties to want to ally with the lady's case; maybe stick out their necks to vouch for her and her family. Additionally, give me everything you can find out about the man who would see her family destroyed. Spare no detail,"</strong> finally, he turned to Meg. <strong>"I will look over those documents, see if I can make sense of them in the meantime. If you would entrust them to me?"</strong> he wondered if he was making the right call in getting involved in all of this. Treason got the Ellery name where it was today, and merely being mentioned in the same sentence as a similar situation? It did not bode well. But, he had a pesky sense of justice, and he could not leave the young woman to her fate.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>11-07-2016, 22:06:52</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>Meg watched the faces of all three men.&nbsp; Of the three, the lord seemed best as concealing his thoughts and emotions, which was meet.&nbsp; Had her father been better at it, perhaps ... but such thoughts were not only disloyal, they were of no use.&nbsp; What was done was done, and lessons painfully learned could not be undone.<br><br>The lord's man, Asher, was sympathetic to her cause.&nbsp; Moreover, he seemed to be disposed to regard her well, perhaps because she had fought against fate's likely course with every resource she could possess.&nbsp; Despite some opinion to the contrary, there were men who admired more in a woman than a pleasing face and figure, though some who made claim to such still seemed to take up the chase otherwise.&nbsp; The elder retainer, likewise, did not regard her with suspicion.&nbsp; He had, she thought, known something of her family, her father or mother or their parents or siblings, that lent her his benefit of the doubt.<br><br>Unless there was good reason, Lord Ellery would not gainsay the two of them.&nbsp; If he had reason, he would not have held it back, not to spare her feelings and certainly not to see two who looked to his lead brought low, if only with embarrassment for being mistaken.<br><br>That made her breath easier, though there was no certainty that she was right.&nbsp; Her understanding of people was less than her mother's, if more than her father's.&nbsp; The thought of her mother brought a momentary bleakness to her eyes and the set of her lips, but she willed it away.&nbsp; Her mother would not thank her to put mourning above what must be done, and the least she could do ... the only thing she could do ... for her parents in some small recompense for their support and care was to carry out their wishes to the best of her circumstances.<br><br>While she dealt with her thoughts, Lord Ellery had approached to study the necklace she had offered.&nbsp; There was no pang of loss in the thought of parting with it, only the hope that it would help accomplish her goal.&nbsp; There was no sentimental value in the piece -- her mother had retained it only because had she sold it, it would have tarnished her husband in the eyes of her family, burning bridges.&nbsp; The money would have come in handy during lean times, even though they had weathered those early days without it.<br><br>Yet he refused it, and retreated back to her chair, leaving Meg poised with her protest, and eyes opened wide with unfeigned fear, unstated -- as he was already addressing Captain Bray, and setting some of her fears to rest.<br><br><em>"Thank you." </em> Meg's voice was little more than a whisper, though her expression was resolute, and grateful, as she looked from one man to the other. <em> "I would ask that you reconsider the necklace, my lord.&nbsp; I do not have the experience or contacts to sell it, or I would.&nbsp; My memories of my family do not lie in symbols of a life they did not lead.&nbsp; Money betters your chances, and thus my own, an investment in my future far greater than any dowry."</em><br><br>Upon the last word, a tinge of bitterness flavored her tone, to such an extent that she could taste it, dark and cringing to her tongue.&nbsp; More than that she did not say, for what she knew of lords led her to believe that they would most likely do what they would, however reasoned her argument.&nbsp; There might be other avenues open to her, but that would necessitate observation and investigation.<br><br>As she had determined he would, Lord Ellery added his gentle demand to Captain Bray's request.&nbsp; To let those documents, written in her father's hands, slip from her hands would pain her far more than giving over the necklace.&nbsp; Yet there was no decision left to make.&nbsp; She had made it already.<br><br><em>"I know that the key to the reading lay in my father's library.&nbsp; That much he was able to convey.&nbsp; I have every paper that we could find, but I know not the unlocking.&nbsp; There was so little time before we had to flee.&nbsp; I have looked through them again this morning, but I am not skilled in such things."</em><br><br>It was an apology, not so much to them, but to her family, even though they certainly knew as well as she.&nbsp; &nbsp;Had her father taught such things to all his children, rather than only her brother ... but again, it did little good to wish the undoing of the past.&nbsp; People were as they were, and in her own way she was ever as stubborn as her father.<br><br>From the basket, she pulled a neatened stack of loose papers, folded letters still bearing the broken wax of their seals, and a thin bound book that her father's man had sent, bearing columns of dates, neatly written letters and numbers and numbers alone.<br><br>It was half full, and the last page was a simple, hastily written goodbye, a smeared statement of affection, and her father's regrets that he had failed to provide <em>them with a return to the life that they, in his words, deserved, and the warning to flee.<br><br>"The correspondence he had saved is also here, though the letters seem innocent enough, bits of gossip and philosophical and astronomical matters with little mention of finance or politics."</em><br><br>Her hands shook as she offered them forth, despite her determination to focus only upon each step of what should be done.&nbsp; The pages, though crinkled and rather limp from her humid trek through the swamps, were dry, a testament to the skill of the basket's crafter ... and perhaps to her own determination as well.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>19-07-2016, 02:05:54</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>As the decision regarding her priceless offering was left to his lord, Asher resigned himself to watch the answer unfold.&nbsp; He kept his relaxed position, even leaning some of his weight onto his arms that were crossed on the table as he tried to find some comfort in the used chair.&nbsp; It just wasn’t in the budget to upgrade, which prompted more interest in what his lover would decide.&nbsp; Graham rose from his chair, coming closer to retrieve the item and exercise great care as he gave it a thorough look and silently paid his respects.&nbsp; Knowing the man who had his complete devotion — and his heart — he’d already assumed what that decision would be before the value of the jewelry was keenly appraised.&nbsp; Some things were invaluable when they offered a connection between previous generations, and if lucky enough, the countless more going forward.&nbsp; Asher agreed with Graham, and although he’d grown adept enough to keep the emotions from his face in front of discerning company, there was still something a bit telling around the eyes, something that was meant for his lover to espy, and he alone.<br><br>Asher was hard around the edges with a soft center; a sentimental fool, he’d disparage.<br><br>With that matter settled, Graham returned to his chair without immediately claiming it.&nbsp; He quieted long enough to gather his thoughts, and the three observers waited patiently until Asher held his attention and gave instructions.&nbsp; “I have a few favors saved up for such an occasion, so I’ll work on cashing them in.”&nbsp; Asher would not be able to call himself a worthy protector if he hadn’t made a few connections during his time serving the Ellery name.&nbsp; Some were paid informants who were known for discretion, but he would avoid using coin to procure her brother as much as possible.&nbsp; What he needed was a bounty hunter — what better way to find and collect someone? — and he had just the one in mind.&nbsp; Mental notes were made.&nbsp; Time was not on their side, so he needed to act quickly.<br><br>Graham moved on to give Stanton his instructions, and as he did so Asher glanced toward Meg.&nbsp; She was curious to him.&nbsp; A woman of strength, who was determined to not let her circumstances break her, even if it would have been understandable if the opposite were true.&nbsp; Not many young women had her gumption; she hadn’t failed to surprise him up to that point, and he wondered how she might continue to do so the longer she claimed refuge in Amberthorne.<br><br>The glance remained as such, and before it could settle his gaze was fleeting, too quick for anyone to catch on that he was <em>seeing</em> her rather than merely looking at her.&nbsp; He leaned back in his chair, resting a limb on each arm rest.&nbsp; The wood creaked under his weight, suggesting it had seated many derrieres in its time and, not wanting the quality material to go to waste, had seen its fair share of repairs.&nbsp; Asher hadn’t the time for woodworking as he once had, with Ashburne under such duress and its Lord tearing his hair out as if, by doing so, a solution would soon fall into his hands.&nbsp; A temporary remedy had been, quite literally, put on the table, but the sad state of affairs hadn’t reached such a level of desperation that Graham would take from someone who had already lost everything… and everyone.<br><br>Almost as if prompted, Meg made one final argument regarding the trinket; a noble one, and Asher wondered if she was being too realistic, or simply downplaying the significance of the heirloom.&nbsp; Curious, indeed.<br><br>His fingers tapped on the armrests in near-silence as Meg produced the documents and pushed the pile toward Graham in offering.&nbsp; “I'm sure they will be of use to Lord Graham, in whatever capacity,” he commented, turning that crystal-blue gaze back to Meg.&nbsp; He waited to see if his partner had anything to add, then started to ask the difficult questions.&nbsp; “I'll need that information regarding your brother.&nbsp; Anything significant that would help track him down; physical traits, his last whereabouts, where he might seek refuge, to name a few.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>05-08-2016, 22:30:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham watched her in silence, realizing that his request was not an easy one for her to fulfill. A necklace was one thing. An object. An heirloom. It had sentimental value, but it had still been bought at some point. It wasn't of the very hands of her late father. Those notes? They were. He had held the quill and he had penned down the ink. He felt like he should say something as she placed the papers before her, even though he felt the urge to just silently take them and start flipping through them with a morbid interest in this latest riddle that needed solving. No. He had been raised better than to be so selfish. He circled the table again and picked up the documents, his eyes trained on Meg, who took parting with them rather hard.<br><strong>"Do not worry, my lady. They will be returned to you intact, without a blemish, and completely,"</strong> she would have to trust him on that, which he certainly understood wasn't exactly easy to do.<br><br>He waited for to answer Asher's questions, looking over the papers after laying them down on the table. Neat handwriting, that would make things significantly easier already. But, beyond that, he was already detecting something strange about some of the entries. Especially the longer sentences almost had a cadence to them; something suspicious. He would already bet what little coin he had left on those sentences containing what he needed. Of course, knowing where to look was only one step. The most time consuming, by far, was trying to figure exactly how to interpret the information. For that, the original cypher would have been ideal, but he was going to have to make do without. No matter. He had the time, and even though it would aggravate others, odds were high mulling over the stack would actually help him relax. It would put his mind on other matters, allow him to focus on something that wasn't his personal business. It was a dire situation for her, certainly, and his involvement had now implicated him as well, but the puzzle was there. It needed solving. It was a simple focus, and it worked.<br><br>Once the other two finished their discussion, he straightened his back and gathered the papers. <strong>"I believe we are done here for now,"</strong> he turned to Meg first. <strong>"I suggest you get some more rest. There is little else you can do to help your situation right now. If anything else comes to mind that may help us dig out proof to exonerate at least your family name, then do not hesitate to bring it to my attention. Beyond that, just recover. The trek you made was not one that will be without consequences for your body, best not exert yourself further,"</strong> Graham explained, his voice factual as ever and lacking a degree of sympathy. He was an odd man. He meant what he said, and it always came from a good place. He just had trouble relaying that very same sympathy to the people he offered it to.<br><br>He then turned to Asher. <strong>"Put your sources to work. I would rather you do not undertake the legwork yourself. I need you here to tend to security. If the lady O'Hourihane's adversary does not make an attempt to cause trouble, I will be quite surprised."</strong> He did not mean to frighten her, but sometimes it was better to know that the threat was out there, and that guards could only do so much. At the end of the day, she was the only one who was with her at all times and could keep her eyes peeled for everything she could deem suspicious and potentially dangerous.<br><br>With his wishes made clear, the meeting was adjourned.<br><br><hr><br>A few days had passed, with progress seemingly moving at an absolute snail's pace. Graham had been focusing a significant amount of time and effort on figuring out how best to approach the process of making sense of the documents. He'd read them through, front to back, many times, but beyond the feeling that certain sections were more important than others, he had not made any headway. It was surprising to him that her father had been caught to begin with, for he seemed extremely adept at covering his tracks. Of course, his own father had believed himself just as sly, and look where that got him and their family name? More than once did Meg's situation remind him of his own. Specifics and results differed, of course, but there was no denying that the similarities were uncanny. More than once did he wonder if there was any correlation between the group that Meg's father had gotten involved in and the one that had doomed the Ellery house to obscurity and ridicule. It was all wishful thinking, an undying hope that maybe one day there could be some modicum of retribution.<br><br>He closed a book of notes. It was late at night. Asher would likely be waiting for him to join him. As always, the other man had been nothing short of the sturdiest of rocks to lean on in all of this. His plan to use this conundrum as a means of switching his focus to something marginally enjoyable had already backfired. Tired eyes were rubbed and he rose up, locking away the documents and his notes safely in a vault, before leaving his office. He hoped Asher still had some energy left from his own long day, as in all honesty, Graham could use some stress relief of an intense nature...</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>09-08-2016, 03:51:23</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>And so it was decided, at least for the moment. The situation was not ideal, not for Lord Ellery and his household, and not for Meg herself, but it was a good deal better than it so easily could have been.&nbsp; After the audience was concluded, Meg was drawn aside to provide as much information to help with Asher's inquiries as she could.&nbsp; It did not help that she had not seen her brother in more than three years, though she did have a couple of letters in her stash of documents, the last ones that he had sent.&nbsp; Both included a personal note to Meg that had not been read aloud upon receipt as the rest of the correspondence had, and the oldest of the two she held back for a long moment of hesitation before sighing and handing them over for his perusal.<br><br><em>"I also have a sister, Therese, whom Col ... Collen ... speaks of in brief in the letter, but I would not recommend any inquiries in that direction, Captain Bray.&nbsp; &nbsp;She is the child of my father's first wife, and is considerably older than my brother and myself.&nbsp; When my father was dismissed from court and stripped of his titles save for the most modest that came to him as my grandfather's heir, she was already betrothed.&nbsp; Had she not severed her ties with our family, her affianced would have broken their engagement.&nbsp; Her husband's family is ... very conscious of their reputation, and she was ... and is ... very bitter."</em><br><br>What her words did not say, her expression and the chill and unexpressed anger in her features said for her.&nbsp; There was no sisterly love between the two, no wish that things had been different, but rather a deep-seated coldness and anger. <em> "She would be more likely to aid those hunting me than offer aid, especially if it means bring old scandals to light again."<br></em><br>Of her brother, Meg's description was practical.&nbsp; She took after her mother, while Collen favored her father -- blonde hair that tended more to brown than gold, referred to by Collen humorously as the color of moldy hay, straight and thick.&nbsp; He had worn it long when last she had seen him, and had sported a short, well-trimmed beard that was brown in truth.&nbsp; The affection between them was apparent in the letters, as was the reason for her reluctance - her brother's concern over an ill-conceived affaire de cœur with a soldier was spoken of with sympathy, but also some degree of exasperation over Meg's mule-headedness.&nbsp; Her brother had expressed his relief, shared ... coincidentally ... by Meg that their dalliance had not resulted in long-term consequences.<br><br>She did not blush nor drop her eyes as he read the letter, but also she did not offer any other details.&nbsp; Doubtless, Lord Ellery's excellent retainer would find no lack of details if he made the correct inquiries, but the soldier was long gone and unmourned, if not precisely regretted.<br><br>As soon as she was able, Meg made her escape, not to solitude but rather the kitchen, where she made a nuisance of herself until her help was accepted, and little by little the fact that she did know her way around the kitchen and other household chores relaxed the tension, thus giving her something to do besides worry and grieve.<br><br>There was enough of both in the days that followed, and Meg did her best not to further burden the household.&nbsp; She was grateful for the refuge, and the time to mourn and heal.&nbsp; The disposition of her mother's carriage was not discovered, though there was sufficient evidence to make it all but certain that the carriage an those within had been disposed of in some deep pool or mire.&nbsp; It did not matter; that her mother was dead, she knew, and that she would not have been abandoned Meg also knew.&nbsp; It would have made her feel no better to have her mother interred in some stone tomb or buried under tended earth, and such things would not have mattered to her mother, who had been one of the most practical minded women she had ever met, for all her love of all things artistic.<br><br>Yet she was a guest, and one who had caused much upset and the allocation of time, energy and funds perhaps better spent, in the mind of the household, upon matters more directly of concern.&nbsp; It was a precarious sort of feeling that Meg did not enjoy, for all her gratitude.&nbsp; To be a burden, even if it were not said or even intimated at in any way, was not something she wished to do, but her comfort was less important than both survival and the hope that those who had murdered her parents be brought to justice.<br><br>The evening was cool, thankfully, and Meg had retired early, more to simply be spared the necessity of making, or requiring, polite conversation.&nbsp; Lord Ellery had graciously permitted her the reading of anything found in the small library that took her fancy, and she had been given other means of entertaining herself -- watercolors, mending, and needlework -- but such pursuits worked the body too little and the mind too much.&nbsp; It was late when she slipped on her wrap and quietly left her room, slippered feet making little sound upon the stairs as she headed for the side door that would bring her into the small garden.<br><br>The moon was not full, and the light mist that formed with the cooling of the moisture-rich air provided a silvery glow that made it easy for her to find her way to the crab-apple tree that had become her refuge.&nbsp; It had branches that were the perfect height, the perfect thickness, for climbing, and the activity ... as well as the slight rebellion implicit in te act ... brought a measure of solace.&nbsp; She was not thinking of her borrowed gown as she pulled herself up to the first branch, and then took hold of another, aided by a foot upon a smaller branch, as she clambered, though the faint rip of fabric caused her some modicum of guilt.&nbsp; At the same time, she consoled herself that she could repair the ripped seam, and carefully worked her way up to the spot that made an ideal seat, offering a good view and privacy in the darkening leaves.<br><br>She had climbed to that perch several times before, but always in the daytime.&nbsp; It was an easy enough climb that the darkness, or even the wet of the dew, did not concern her overly, but she had not taken into account that the vantage point also offered a rather good view, as she leaned back against the trunk and looked up, of a lit room whose window was open, and the curtains had been parted by the blessedly cool breeze.<br><br><br>Still, she thought nothing of it when she spied Lord Ellery and Captain Bray facing one another,&nbsp; engaged in what appeared to be a spirited conversation, though she could near nothing of what they said other than the cadence of words.&nbsp; They were, she had assumed, friends as well as lord and manservant.&nbsp; Most times, she would simply have shifted her position or sought another seat, but instead she only closed her eyes for a moment.&nbsp; When she opened them, the two men were in motion, closing the distance between themselves.&nbsp; Meg's eyes widened, wondering what disagreement had prompted some physical altercation -- she was, after all, not completely ignorant of the more physical tendencies of men when dealing with one another.&nbsp; Yet as they collided, arms reaching, heads tilting and turning not for battle but rather to engage in what was an unmistakable passionate kiss ...<br><br>Meg's foot slipped upon the bark, and she gasped, looking away as she rearranged her thinking.&nbsp; &nbsp;She had heard of men who chose other men for their lovers ... women as well ... but she had not thought, not suspected ...<br><br>Despite herself, and what both politeness and respect owed to her host, and her rescuers, Meg's head turned, and she looked again.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no mistaking their embrace, or the passion behind it.&nbsp; It seemed that Lord Ellery was being divested of his shirt, and Captain Asher's might likely need new buttons upon its laundering.&nbsp; &nbsp;A soft giggle escaped Meg's lips, causing her to clap her hand over her mouth, as she avidly stared another moment as the two men alternated between passion and tenderness.&nbsp; She knew she should look away, knew it, but could not.&nbsp; She was not shocked, not precisely, but ... oh, that damnable curiosity that so often got her in trouble.&nbsp; Yet it was not only curiosity, she knew in her heart of hearts, as she felt her own breath quicken, became aware of how the wind caressed her skin, brought a chill to the thin fabric covering her body, making it long for the heated press of another's skin ...<br><br>Meg's eyes, and mouth, closed with a determined snap.&nbsp; What courtesy, what decency demanded, was that she quietly retreat and return to her room, and seek this place only in the daylight ... yet her eyes opened yet again, peering through her lashes as she witnessed ...<br><br>And then a sound, a movement, from the ground attracted her attention.&nbsp; Meg froze, a blush finally coming to her cheeks as she contemplated a scolding, perhaps a yell of 'Miss Meg, what are you doing up there?&nbsp; Come down before you hurt yourself' delivered in a loud tone ... one that might attract the attention of the lovers above and reveal her spying ...<br><br>For spying it had become, even if it had not been her intent as she clambered up the tree.<br><br>All the more unsettling, even, than what she had seen was the fact that she was almost bitterly disappointed by the interruption.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>16-08-2016, 22:44:08</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>After Graham wrapped up the meeting, leaving the men with specific instructions, Asher followed Meg out of the room and pulled her aside to go over the details necessary to complete his assigned task.&nbsp; She relinquished more correspondence, albeit reluctantly, and he handled them with care as he read the words.&nbsp; He didn’t enjoy having to invade her privacy to get the information – especially after catching some details from her personal life that he was sure she would have preferred to keep to herself, considering her initial hesitation – but there was a reason for doing so, and he was not one to spread gossip about a lady.&nbsp; It did, however, prompt him to raise his eyes from the parchment to give her a cursory glance, inspired solely by curiosity, remaining quiet as his attention drifted back to the ink on the page and finished the letter.&nbsp; His primary concern, after all, was the information gleaned from it, accompanied by her description of her brother, as well as her sister, which, by her account, would be a dead end, and possibly quiet literally if he pursued it as a source.<br><br>He thanked her for her cooperation before they parted ways, and then he immediately took that knowledge to his own private quarters and put it down on paper.&nbsp; Her brother had mentioned the town he was located which, by his knowledge, was a few days’ worth of hard riding away.&nbsp; His likely would have been able to track the man down regardless, but knowing what he did currently would help track down the man in less time.&nbsp; Something that happened to be more scarce than gold in the Ellery purse.<br><br>Per order by his lord, he did not leave Amberthorne to seek out any of his sources personally, instead relying on one of his more tenured men to deliver the missive directly to a discreet location and place it only in the hand of the bounty hunter he sought.&nbsp; Marx, they called him, which was credited to his reputation for being accurate in his pursuits.&nbsp; He threatened to retire many times, since earning a prodigious abundance of gold from dealing with wealthy nobles for years, who could afford his steep fee.&nbsp; Some claimed he was invincible, after taking several arrows, a knife, and a purported drowning, though it was hard to gauge where the truth ended and embellishment began.<br><br>Having dealt with the man a few times in his life, Asher knew the bastard was hard to kill, but not invincible.&nbsp; At least, not enough to where he had nothing to hide.&nbsp; All men had secrets, and would do anything to keep those secrets from letting loose…<br><br><hr><br>The next few days dragged.&nbsp; Between waiting for word on Marx’s findings, and organizing a plan with his men in the event that the mercenaries, or the one who hired them, decided to pay Amberthorne a visit, Asher had little time for anything else besides a few hours of sleep and the quick meals he barely was able to make time for.&nbsp; Meg was left to her own devices; as a guest she was welcome to explore the common areas to keep herself busy in lieu of the lack of presence from her hosts.&nbsp; During his duties Asher found his thoughts occasionally wandering back to the troubled young woman, regretting that neither he nor Graham were able to offer her company in her time of grief.&nbsp; Though, perhaps it was enough knowing they were doing their best to provide for her well-being, as well as the others who lived under his lord’s roof.<br><br>If they days were long and tiresome, at least they had the nights to look forward to.<br><br>Asher made it to Graham’s bedroom first, finding it dark, cold, and empty.&nbsp; That was not a surprise; his lord often sacrificed his own needs for the greater good.&nbsp; Some of those would be taken care of as soon as he returned; in the meantime, Asher went to the task of lighting candles around the centerpiece of the room:&nbsp; a massive four-poster bed, equipped with thick bed curtains that were parted to welcome two eager bodies and a tapestried canopy that was reminiscent of their homeland.<br><br>Some of that light was birthed next to the wash room, illuminating the tub that would be drawn with hot water to ease the ache from cramped muscles.&nbsp; Two towels were placed on the edge, along with two wash clothes and a bar of soap.&nbsp; Everything was ready; now he just had to wait for his lover to make an appearance.<br><br>He wasn’t kept waiting too long, knowing that, eventually, fatigue would settle in and lure his lord to the bedroom.&nbsp; Over the years he’d grown adept at predicting approximately when that would happen, and that time was no different than any other.&nbsp; When Graham entered, Asher stood next to the bed, ready to help his lover out of those constricting clothes so he could better participate in activities of a more… relaxing… nature.&nbsp; “I was wondering when you would find your way to me,” he teased, taking those last few steps to close the distance between them.&nbsp; Eager hands made quick work of baring his companion’s chest, even while exchanging a heated kiss.&nbsp; Nothing was ever as satisfying as having that bare skin contact with his lord, which was a sentiment expressed in a low, predatory growl against those lips.<br><br>Things were quickly heating up between the two… and then the warning pattern of a fist pounding on the door cut through the passion…<br><br><hr><br>The hour was late, and it was time for an impromptu checkup on the pregnant mare who was having a harder time carrying than usual.&nbsp; It would be her last, as promised by Severn, the stablemaster, for fear that another hard labor would surely kill her, if the current one didn’t do the job.&nbsp; He’d left one of the stablehands in charge of watching over her, and while he trusted the boy to do a good job of tending to the horse, he was never satisfied with someone else doing what he felt was <em>his</em> duty.&nbsp; Those horses were raised and trained by his own hands, and he felt responsible for what happened to them, good or ill.&nbsp; He worried about them as if they were family, which explained the aggravated tossing and turning beneath the sheets, as if seeking a way to get rid of his guilt for not being out there with her.&nbsp; Wide awake, he looked over his shoulder at the woman sleeping peacefully next to him, and carefully slid out of the warmth of their bed to pull on his trousers.&nbsp; It would only be a quick check and he’d be back to her side in no time.<br><br>He exited the servant’s quarters and began to cross the yard to the stables when he caught movement on the east side of the mansion.&nbsp; Prudence made him freeze momentarily, and before he was fully exposed, he back-pedaled to the side of the house, where he could peer around the corner without being detected.&nbsp; A dark figure had cleared the wall surrounding the estate and was making its way to the fruit trees.&nbsp; Severn hadn’t noticed Meg up in the branches, though it would have done little to sway his course.&nbsp; Immediately, he turned and ran back inside to warn the guards on duty.&nbsp; The ones already on shift would converge rather quickly, and the rest would be pulled from their beds to join the others.<br><br>By the time the Lord and his Captain arrived, the guardsmen were already standing outside in formation, archers in the front with loaded crossbows pointed at the intruder, who, having started to climb while not knowing his presence was already noted, jumped the ten feet to the ground and started running.&nbsp; The trees were close enough together that it would be difficult to get a clear shot, which the man judged accurately.&nbsp; He was running back to the wall, which had a length of rope dangling within reach to make for an easy escape.<br><br>There was movement in the higher branches of the tree, where he spotted the startled Meg.&nbsp; He pointed to Roland, who made it to his side to await orders, then to the tree as an indication for him to help her down, before taking off toward the intruder.&nbsp; The mercenary was quick and had a head-start, but he still needed to climb up the wall, which would give Asher those extra seconds to capture him.&nbsp; That is if he didn’t get help from a carefully-aimed arrow beforehand. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>29-08-2016, 13:16:23</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>It seemed that life just did not want to give either of them any chance to relax, for once. Hardly surprising since it was the norm over much of both their lives. Still, for a few moments, it had seemed liked Asher's intimate surprise would have given the day a positive book-end. Just as things were beginning to heat up, though, frantic slamming on the door warned them that something was amiss. This was followed soon after by shouting and a commotion down below in the gardens. It could mean only one thing, and Graham's stern expression as he turned to Asher said it all. Meg. Leaving their passion behind in the room, Graham threw on his tunic and met the guardsman at the door, making sure to order the man ahead so that no one would see Asher coming from his room. There were still quite a few people in their employ oblivious to their relationship and the young lord wanted to keep it that way. Openly homosexual relations were frowned upon deeply by the noble circles as it did not lend itself well to heirs and the continuation of high society. The Ellery name did not need more fuel on the fire that was already burning everything the name stood for. It frustrated him, and he knew Asher felt the same, but there was precious little they could do, at least until their situation was more stable. Until then, sneaking around was the only option they had.<br><br><hr><br><strong>"The stablemaster saw someone skulking across the courtyard. The man had been headed for the fruit trees. They overlook your private quarters, my lord, we suspect he may have been targeting you or the lady O'Hourihane,"</strong> the guardsman explained while Graham nodded calmly.<br><strong>"The latter seems far more likely given what we've gotten ourselves involved with. Tell the others to try and capture the assailant alive. But if he threatens anyone's life, take him down permanently, I do not want death on my hands because of my curiosity."</strong><br><strong>"Yes, my lord."</strong><br>By that point, Asher would have caught up to his lord, who seemed exceedingly worried. <strong>"If lady O'Hourihane's detractors are resolute enough to bury this issue to send assassins, then we need to double our efforts. I'm going to bring this to the attention of the Supreme Court in the capital. I don't care that we don't have anywhere near enough evidence yet, the paperwork'll take time to clear anyway, but it would allow us to use any further attempts as incriminating evidence. Even if we don't get a confession out of this intruder, who else would have it out for her?"</strong> he was thinking out loud, his mind already working on what to do several steps for now, as they hadn't even caught the bastard yet. He hoped he hadn't gotten to Meg yet. He had given her his word that she would be safe under his watch...<br><br>When they reached the guards, they were quickly pointed in the direction of the intruder who seemed to now be making a mad dash for his mark. Maybe he knew he had been detected? Whatever the case, he had a lead on them and it wasn't going to be easy catching up, given the speed of the male. As Asher began to rush after him, Graham gave the order for some of the guards to accompany their captain, while he reached for the crossbow in the hands of a guardsman to his right. He leveled the weapon and began to take aim, slowing his breathing by taking intermittent, deep breaths.<br><em>*Come on... Lead the shot...*</em> it had been a long time since he'd last had to turn a ranged weapon on another human being. It was different from target practice, and different from hunting. But as he pulled the trigger, he felt a pang of pride as the bolt flew perfectly between two trees and embedded itself right into the side of the man's knee, instantly crippling him and having him fall forward. His cry of pain removed any semblance of peace and quiet left that night. He would still be dangerous, but Graham trusted Asher to deal with him safely.<br><br>He returned the weapon to its original owner and rushed after the others to be able to interrogate the would-be assassin. It was in his approach that he caught sight of something from the corner of his eyes. The flash of a dress, followed by a familiar face.<br>Meg.<br>So that was why he was headed for the fruit trees. What a peculiar passtime for a lady like her. He broke off his pursuit and halted by the thick trunk, calling out up to her.<br><strong>"Miss O'Hourihane, would you mind informing me why you believe it was a good idea to be out here by yourself? Climbing, no less? Do you need help descending?"</strong> chaos in his household, and people wondered why he sometimes seemed such a grumpy, reluctant host...</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>05-09-2016, 03:21:43</strong>
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				<strong>Up a Tree &amp; Red-Faced</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>The movement she had spotted could have been anything, anything at all.&nbsp; Perhaps it was a servant, hurrying back from meeting up with a sweetheart away from prying and disapproving eyes.&nbsp; That was something Meg herself could well understand.&nbsp; Yet that was not the feeling she had as she flattened herself against the trunk of the tree, her heart racing, all pleasant thoughts of illicit affairs of the body and heart dispersing like the mist.<br><br>The man moving toward the house, he carried a shadow about him, a shadow that was cold&nbsp; despite the relative warmth of the evening.&nbsp; Whoever he was, whatever he was, he was there with no good purpose. <br><br>Her mother had had the talent strongly, a feeling about certain people, particularly when they were in a state of emotional upheaval.&nbsp; It was how she had known when Meg lost a tiny portion of her heart and a great deal of her innocence to a neighbor's traveling cousin.&nbsp; It was also how she had known that Meg would take no harm from his leaving and emerge from the experience at least somewhat wiser.&nbsp; Meg's flashes of ... insight ... were rarely all that certain, and only once had she had such a fear-inducing reaction to a stranger, but nonetheless, she went still and quiet as a mouse, all but holding her breath.&nbsp; Predators could sense fear, and eyes upon them.&nbsp; That was a lesson from the animal world, from cats to hawks, snakes and other small hunters.&nbsp; Best of all, noone with ill intent toward her could possibly expect her to be outdoors, and up a tree.<br><br>As quiet as the intruder's movements had been, it seemed that she had not been alone in spotting him.&nbsp; Whether it was happenstance or feeling, the guards were alerted.&nbsp; It saved Meg the necessity of pondering whether it would be best to yell out and draw attention to her vulnerable position or trust that Lord Ellery's guards would be alert.&nbsp; &nbsp;As she heard movement, she dared another glance, and saw the shadow melt into hiding ... aware of his discovery.<br><br>Meg heaved a sigh of relief, wanting only to slip down and make for the safety of the house once more, but that might well be a distraction.&nbsp; Sorry repayment indeed, upon top of her inadvertent spying, to bring further danger to the household in a critical moment.&nbsp; Meg stayed where she was, though she was reassured enough to peer around the branches as Lord Ellery emerged and took charge of the situation.&nbsp; Captain Asher was out as well, and while Meg could not help a twinge of sympathetic sorrow at having been the cause of the interruption of their ... tete e tete ... she was nonetheless gratified, all the more so as she spied Lord Asher lift his crossbow and take aim.<br><br>From her position, and with the thundering of her heart, surely it was only her imagination that she heard the *thun* of the bowstring.&nbsp; Yet imagination or not, the chill of fear left her almost immediately ... soon replaced by resigned chagrin as her presence was noticed by several of the members of the milling household.<br><br>Lord Ellery was first to the tree, though the guard called Roland was not far behind, as Meg began clambering down, a word quite unsuitable escaping her lips as her slipper ... as per its name ... slipped upon the bark and caused her a rather undignified scramble not to end up sprawled upon the moss below, looking up at her again rescuers.<br><em><br>"My apologies, Lord Ellery, but I wished a bit of air, and I have always found trees to be the perfect hideaway.&nbsp; Most people do not look up, you see, and one is both unnoticed and out of the way.</em>"<br><br>It did not seem the proper time to discuss such things, though, but Meg could not help herself from looking down full into Lord Ellery's face ... and felt the unmistakable heat of a flush in her face as she remembered what she had seen.&nbsp; All the same, it did not delay her from speaking, even though she quickly turned her attention back to the tree branches, upon which a bit of dew had settled.<br><br><em>"Don't mind me.&nbsp; I am ... rather practiced ... at the climbing of trees."</em><br><br>Hopefully, Lord Ellery would go about seeing to the intruder, and by the time she must face him or Captain Asher again, she would have regained her equilibrium ... and a smidgen of dignity, no matter how precarious.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>12-09-2016, 23:56:42</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Asher dashed across the yard with a burning urgency, propelled by the burgeoning frustration of being wrenched from the arms of his lover, with the added insult of discovering that it was due to an attempted breech inside Amberthorne.&nbsp; Someone dared to come onto the property uninvited, with malicious plans to stir up mischief and even cause harm to those under Asher’s protection.&nbsp; He was sure it had something to do with none other than their guest, Meg, but he would have definite confirmation once the bastard’s neck was in his grasp.<br><br>During the hectic process of throwing on their clothes – albeit some articles would still be found strewn on Graham’s bedroom floor – Asher had managed to put back on the essentials, though the garments were still a bit askew.&nbsp; He could easily explain away his disheveled state as simply 'prioritizing' after being abruptly awakened, having little time to prepare when the alarmed shouts indicated it was critical he make an immediate appearance.&nbsp; There’d been enough time to grab the essentials, including his weapons, and emerge from the mansion to be thrusted in the center of madness.<br><br>The intruder put a curve in his trajectory, hoping to put more distance between his pursuer, but it only gave Graham the advantage of a clear shot without risking a hit to his Captain.&nbsp; Asher barely caught sight of the bolt before it pierced the man’s leg, sending him tumbling to the ground with his screams of pain filling the night.&nbsp; The distance was closed between them within seconds, and Asher approached with caution as the man grunted, holding his shin to keep his knee bent, as if hoping to squeeze the agony from his joint.&nbsp; They were away from the torchlight illuminating from the side of the house to the first trees, so Asher had to rely on instinct and experience to map out the wailing shadow.<br><br>A dagger was gripped in his right hand, the blade hanging next to his leg as he assumed a defensive position, and moved forward to loom above the man.<br><br>The slash through the air gave Asher enough of a warning to dance out of the blade’s way, and when the hand’s clumsy arc was completed, the Captain’s boot landed on the man’s wrist, effectively pinning it to the dewy grass.&nbsp; The knife was scooped up and secured in his belt, which earned him a few choice words.<br><br>“Who sent you,” his voice was calm, with a dangerous edge.&nbsp; He would get the information one way or another; the methods he used on attaining it was up to the intruder.&nbsp; His question was ignored.&nbsp; The other boot kicked the injured knee, and more shuddering screams filled the air.&nbsp; Asher waited patiently for the anguished sobs to quiet down, seeing if his question would remain unanswered.<br><br>A wad of spit was sent in a violent spray upon his boot, making the Captain lose his patience.&nbsp; Dagger sheathed, his right fist came down hard on the man’s face; twice, in quick succession, with the second rendering him unconscious.&nbsp; By that point a crew of guards approached, bringing with them flame to light up the area.<br><br>“Take him to the dungeon.&nbsp; See that he is treated, and prepare him for questioning.”&nbsp; He ordered to no one in particular; the men were disciplined to work together as a team to act on his commands.&nbsp; He trusted they would be able to handle it without his supervision, so he started to make his way to the house.<br><br>The chase had opened his shirt enough to bare most of his chest, and the tie that had secured his dark hair was now gone, lost somewhere in the yard, leaving those raven locks to frame his strong features in wild abandon.&nbsp; Everything about his expression was severe, from the hard line of his mouth to the heavy frown lines between his brows.&nbsp; If the intruder hadn’t been stopped in time… if the house had been none the wiser…<br><br>He came upon the crowd of guards and household staff, moving to the center to find Graham and Meg.&nbsp; “He’s unconscious and will be secured for questioning,” he explained to his Lord, though the whole time he was looking at Meg.&nbsp; Concern spurned his anger, and at the moment he was shaken enough to ring her by that pretty neck.&nbsp; Jaw clenched, eyes coldly fierce as they settled on the woman.&nbsp; “Go climbing often, Meg?”<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>20-09-2016, 14:12:10</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><strong>"Yes indeed, a climber you are, dear lady..."</strong> Graham responded dryly. If he was relieved that she was safe, it did not show in his demeanor and expression, both of which were as reserved and private as ever. In his position and given his duties, one learned very quickly to keep much of one's own thoughts to themselves. If a face became too easy to read, it became impossible to bluff... and lie. As much as Graham wished he did not have to get involved in the messy side of politics as much as he did, it remained a fact of life that his station required less savory actions from time to time. Lying was among those, though he tried his best to keep ethics into account with everything he did. When she nearly slipped he instinctively reached out to catch her. He had not gone through all of this trouble to take her in just to have her fall out of a tree and crack her skull on a rock. Beyond just being terrible, it'd also be completely anti-climactic and unexpected... But, she held her own, giving the lord mental images of her scaring the living daylights out of her parents all the time by performing similar stunts as a child.<br><br><strong>"As long as you are safe..."</strong> it was at that point that they were joined by the captain of the guard. Graham knew the look on the man's face well. That was the look that all guards and staff in the household feared. The look that preempted the mother of all lectures, and sometimes some severe punishment as well. Lord Ellery could not blame the man. This had been an exceedingly dangerous situation. For starters, their charge could have perished. But, Even Asher himself could have been hurt in the scuffle. But, everyone was fine and they had learned a valuable lesson. Don't trust Meg to not wander around. And assassins were dangerous, of course!<br><br><strong>"It seems we need to be more mindful of the people who want you six feet under than we first believed, lady O'Hourihane. We will strive not to make that mistake again. From now on there will be a guard posted outside your quarters, unless given permission by myself or lord Bray here, that guard is to accompany you whenever you walk the grounds at night, or go anywhere else that does not have patrols during the day,"</strong> he raised a hand reflexively in case any protests came from her. He figured she might be the type to be fond of her freedom, but her safety was more important. <strong>"I realize this is an inconvenience, but if you wish to go climbing again, it might be best to have someone armed and attentive nearby..."</strong> he looked at at the tree, his voice taking on a slightly sarcastic tone. <strong>"If only to stop you from slipping?"</strong><br><br>He then turned to Bray, his voice retaining its authoritativeness. <strong>"Lord Bray, we will see to the prisoner once he's been patched up. In the meantime, assign a guard to Meg to take her back to her quarters and have a maid bring her something to drink. I'm sure she needs to calm down after this ordeal,"</strong> the young lord had nothing else to relay for the moment, instead casting his eyes up at the tree again.<br><br>What had she been doing up there. And why had she been embarrassed even before she'd heard Graham's call? Stern eyes followed what would have been her line of sight from the branch she'd occupied, all the way to the bare window on an upper floor of the mansion.<br>Oh dear.<br><strong>"Actually, lord Bray. Have Meg escorted to the meeting room and please remain here for a moment, we should discuss other safety measures first,"</strong> Graham kept his tone the same, even though he felt some shame in that moment. There was no doubt about it. She had seen the two men together. He did not think she would scream this information from the rooftops, but a conversation on it was definitely required.<br><br>With the rest of the guards dismissed, and Meg escorted away, Graham could speak to Asher in the privacy of the garden. <strong>"She saw us,"</strong> straight to the point. <strong>"Upstairs. I do not believe she climbed that tree with the express purpose to spy, but she happened to pick just the right branch to see us. Her behavior and unwillingness to look me in the eyes? We're going to have to make sure she understands this information cannot leave private circles,"</strong> the young lord sighed slightly, one hand reaching up to run through his strands. Yet another concern heaped onto the pile, though hopefully this one would get resolved sooner.<br><br>Eyes settled on Asher's chest, which was still bare from the chase. A few steps and a glance around them, was enough to remove all distance and make sure they were truly alone. Fingers began to button the shirt back up, from bottom to top. <strong>"Best not look too disheveled for that meeting either..."</strong> the young lord leaned closer, lips by the other's ear as he spoke in whisper. <strong>"Tonight just got even more tiring and stressful... You better make me feel that leftover adrenaline as you pound away the frustration..."</strong> a brief, playful peck was all Asher got from his lover, as the Ellery heir walked by his captain and expected the man to follow.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>24-09-2016, 22:58:16</strong>
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				<strong>In Hot Water</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>There was a moment of relief when Captain Bray strode forward and delivered the news of the intruder.&nbsp; While he might not have been there for her, both instinct and logic said otherwise.&nbsp; Those who had plagued her family had not stopped at murder before -- why would they now?&nbsp; Though she had no proof, no bloody blade, to point at and say, "There ... there is the evidence," she was certain. <br><br>Captain Bray was as well, and she turned to meet the fury in his gaze with instinctive fortrightness.&nbsp; Her answer to his question died in her throat, with nothing more emerging than a faint squeak as she took in the half-bared chest, the pulse racing in his throat as the picture of him and Lord Ellery rose clear and hot before her eyes.&nbsp; Her eyes dropped, and her color rose as her eyes ended up instead at below waist level before dropping to his feet.<br><br>She had brought her trouble with her, and now she had repaid her rescuers with discovery.Guilt was an effective silencer, even when logic said that only a portion of that guilt had been earned.<br><br>When Lord Ellery voiced his demand that she not be alone beyond the confines of her room, the instinctive rejection of such a demand, no matter his right to make it, was kept submerged by the weight of her guilt, and the equally guilty knowledge that her reaction to what she now knew had been anything but impersonal.<br><br>To protest, she would have to meet his eyes, and how could she do that?&nbsp; His or Captain Bray's, made all the worse for the concern she could sense beneath the anger.<br><br>She nodded, though the nod was in response to his assessment of the situation rather than his command.&nbsp; &nbsp; The sarcasm almost provided enough of a lash to spur her tongue into squirming out beneath the weight ... almost.&nbsp; Yet the want to retreat from all the eyes that were upon her now until she had settled her own thoughts.<br><br>Until she had tamed them.<br><br>She was already turning to go, escort or not, when Lord Ellery countermanded his original order.&nbsp; For a moment, her shoulders slumped as her step faltered, and then straightened as she forced herself to exhale.&nbsp; Her head lifted, and she nodded to the man already stepping forward, and proceeded.<br><br>There was no doubt in her mind that he had realized what she had seen.&nbsp; &nbsp;Nor was there any doubt that what she had witnessed was not meant for common knowledge.&nbsp; Meg was well aware that there were secrets, and then there were secrets.&nbsp; The news of her indiscretion had been known by the small contingent of servants in the household well before it had come to her parents attention.&nbsp; &nbsp;Such things, she knew, were not 'done' among the nobility, along with a number of other things that were not done, yet were.<br><br>What would she have done, in those early days, had her secret been discovered by another.&nbsp; It had been, of course, and all to the good, yet she did not appreciate the manner of its discovery or revelation.&nbsp; It would be poor repayment of rescue and kindness to gossip, though she was also well aware that this was the sort of thing her sister would have reveled in and used for her advantage, softly at first and then with a hammer.<br><br>But Meg was not her sister.&nbsp; Even if she did not suspect that Lord Ellery and the intense Captain Bray would have responded to such threat of exposure in similar manner to the one she had employed, she would not repay generosity with avarice.<br><br>Yet she did not look forward to what would surely come next, be it the lecture about wandering, climbing trees, or what she had seen.&nbsp; Yet she would use what time she had to prepare, to ensure that she brought no more trouble to the household than she could help.&nbsp; The actions of the assassin were part of a storm she could not control.&nbsp; Her own actions, and the consequences of them, she could. <br><br>Her escort gave her a sympathetic glance and just the hint of a like smile as he ushered her into the room, gave the room a quick inspection -- as if the assassin might have had friends who had not chosen the same entry point -- and then left after closing the curtain.&nbsp; She could hear the thunk of his boots as he took up position outside the door.<br><br>To sit demurely, or otherwise, seemed quite beyond the question.&nbsp; In any event, there were bits of bark on her skirt that needed cleaning before she subjected Lord Ellery's furniture to it, so she crossed to the window and looked out through the minuscule opening, peering this way and that, though the shadows of movement she saw were as likely more searching, or simple rustles of leaves and branches rather than creeping men.<br><br>When Asher and Graham entered, leaving the manservant behind to guard, Meg waited only until the door was closed to speak, though she took some care not to speak too loudly.&nbsp; She did, however, meet the gaze of both men squarely, having commanded her eyes, if not the flush that colored her cheek.&nbsp; She would not force either to ask.<br><em><br>"Yes.&nbsp; I did not climb the tree for that purpose, but I did see.&nbsp; I am sorry for the intrusion, and for the trouble I have caused.&nbsp; It is not my wish, or intent, to cause more."</em><br><br>Despite the seriousness of the situation, a hundred questions rose to her mind, and tumbled about before the dam of her lips, which she snapped shut before they could rush out.&nbsp; It was none of her business, though a rather traitorous part of her wished it were.&nbsp; Perhaps it was just that it would be a relief to concern herself with matters of the heart and flesh rather than darker thoughts of murder and hidden enemies.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>28-09-2016, 01:10:52</strong>
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				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne - An Uncomfortable Discussion</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Graham began to lay out Meg’s new restrictions – for her own sake as well as all residing under House Ellery – while Asher still fumed.&nbsp; His temper was not always so easy to surface; the time spent with Graham in his private chamber had succeeded in making his heart race, which was pushed to a thundering staccato beat once he broke out into an unexpected chase upon reaching the yard.&nbsp; He took a few deep breaths to ease the adrenaline coursing through his veins, all while his features went cold.&nbsp; Guarded.&nbsp; The anger was still in the fine details around his mouth and the outer corners of his eyes, but most of it collected in the piercing blue iris until his gaze was a swirling vortex of contempt.<br><br>Closer assessment caught the sudden coloring of Meg’s cheeks, and he continued to watch as her gaze dropped, wondering if he had been too stern with her.&nbsp; Not that he blamed her for what happened or intended to hold her accountable in any way; he just hated the circumstances.&nbsp; The two men both knew they were inviting danger into their home; now they knew to what extent and it was very disheartening.<br><br>Next time their enemies would need to send more assassins if they thought to take what didn’t belong to them.&nbsp; And, as he thought soberly, they undoubtedly would.<br><br>The conversation was directed toward him, and he nodded to Graham while simultaneously motioning for Grimsby to join them.&nbsp; He trusted all of his men with any life he was meant to protect, but Grimsby’s quick reflexes and keen senses were venerable, making him the apt choice for the rest of the evening.&nbsp; Another, more permanent guard would be chosen come morning.<br><br>Everyone was preparing to disperse, Asher ready to walk with Graham to the dungeon for an interrogation when he caught his Lord looking up the tree, then to his bedroom window.&nbsp; Asher, recognizing that look, followed the trail and felt his brows furrow.&nbsp; They’d reached the same conclusion, which was secured by Meg’s bout of bashfulness.&nbsp; Shit.<br><br>The orders were changed to accommodate a quick discussion between them, and once the guards’ attention was put elsewhere to give them a moment of privacy, Asher dropped his shields and turned his grim countenance to Graham.<br><br>“I’m starting to wonder how this night could turn out any worse,” he commented as crystalline eyes flicked to the curtains framing the bedroom window, watching them shift from a late-night breeze.&nbsp; The space between them shrank by just a few steps, and all outward stimulus melted away.&nbsp; “But I have a few ideas about how to make it better.”&nbsp; He hated to see the burden in Graham’s eyes, but he also knew that being a Duke – even a deposed one – came with responsibilities that would break a weaker man.&nbsp; Air was sucked into his lungs as hands went to work covering his chest, and he blew the breath out slowly as he released the tension in his shoulders and back.<br><br>Graham’s comment created a different sort of tension altogether, making his pants tighten as his cock twitched back to life.&nbsp; He made some adjustments for Graham as well, putting hands in his hair to work out a few small knots while making a promise he intended to keep, one way or another.&nbsp; “You’ll feel many things before I let sleep claim you.”&nbsp; Rough tones spoken at a sultry whisper were punctuated by a returned kiss, though how he wished to give his lover something more to make him breathless.<br><br>Once the two left for the meeting with Meg, a handful of guards were posted outside the estate to watch for any other signs of trouble.&nbsp; Until they were satisfied the threat had been dealt with, they would have eyes watching outside as well as in, effective immediately.<br><br><hr><br>They entered, leaving Grimsby at his post outside the door, leaving the three of them alone.&nbsp; Surprisingly, Meg was the first one to speak, and her forthrightness gave Asher pause.&nbsp; Judging by her flushed skin earlier, he wouldn’t have expected her to speak so openly… her courage was admirable, to say the least.&nbsp; He lifted his eyebrow and subjected her to a moment of scrutiny as he commented, “then you will know that something so private must remain that way, yes?&nbsp; We’ve clearly become too comfortable, it would seem.”&nbsp; There was no point in denying <em>what</em> she had seen, as there’d been obvious kissing equipped with roaming hands, but he also didn’t come across as apologetic.&nbsp; He couldn’t regret a single moment spent with his partner.<br><br>He walked around the table and pulled out a chair, then turned it so he was still facing Meg at the window as he sat down, yet in a more casual pose.&nbsp; With their secret now shared, it seemed silly to continue tip-toeing around her.&nbsp; At least he was dressed in a somewhat presentable fashion, though in his defense there’d been little time to fool with buttons and straps.<br><br>He propped his foot on the opposite knee and tapped his blunt fingernails idly on the faded lacquer, interested in what Graham had to say.&nbsp; And, curiously, he wondered what Meg thought about his unconventional relationship with his Lord, and if she would still be able to trust them.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Renegade Vile</strong> on <strong>10-10-2016, 22:53:00</strong>
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				<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Meg would not be familiar with this particular meeting room. Unlike the one they had shared information in earlier that day, this was a much smaller room. Most likely intended for more informal meetings, or simply fairly comfortable discourse, it had a relaxed atmosphere about it. It could very easily double for a living room if not for the large table, desk and a closet with glass pane doors that housed all manner of parchment, books and writing supplied. Warm colors permeated the room, especially after a servant had gotten a fire going in the fireplace. It immediately formed the centerpiece of the room, drawing all eyes to it and the large painting that hung above it. It depicted what could only be the last generation of the Ellery family. None of the face but a very young Graham's would appear familiar to Meg; which implied some rather depressing, albeit relatable things. Surrounding the fireplace were a number of regular chairs and armchairs, as well as a coffee table carved with rather lovely, floral patterns. It wasn't quite up to the standards of the kind of professional carpenter or artist someone of noble standing could afford, but the one who made it did know what they had been doing. Keepsake of a related hobbyist maybe?<br><br>Whatever the case, Graham entered the room, closing the door behind him once Asher had joined them. He felt like dismissing the man outside, but Meg would understand the need to keep somewhat hushed tones, and the sitting area was far enough from the heavy door to dim their carried voices. Before he could even utter a single word, though, the woman had already turned to face both men with renewed resolve in her eyes. She had been lacking that shine in her hues outside, but it reminded him of what he had seen in them during earlier meetings. She had enormous force of character whenever she wished to exhibit it. Not everyone would tackle this sensitive issue so headfirst and refreshingly honest. As Asher chimed in, the young lord walked over to one of the windows, beside which was a table with glasses and various alcoholic beverages laid out across its surface. He began to pour all three of them something to drink, whether the others were thirsty or not. It gave him an excuse to remain somewhat silence as he pondered how to handle this situation without having to rely on taking her at her word completely. He wanted to help her, and so far he believed she was innocent, but that did not mean he trusted her.<br><br><strong>"As Asher stated. Judging by your behavior, you must know that these kinds of... relationships, are frowned upon, especially in our circles. We could probably have gotten away with not advertising it for the whole world to see - making it a public secret - if not for the fragility of this House. This would be yet another stain our rivals could use to drive the last nail in our coffin in terms of influence. We would be social pariahs,"</strong> it was evident from Graham's tone of voice - grim, strained and stern - that he did not like to speak of his passionate romance like it was something poisonous. But, in their case, it really could spell the end, so they would play along. He lifted two of the glasses he had filled and walked over to Meg and Asher in turn, handing them the containers, before returning to the window to fetch his own. He remained there, staring out the glass barriers to admire what little land he had left as it was pelted by moonlight.<br><br><strong>"Your discretion is paramount. If you want our help, you need to keep this to yourself, or it would destroy any hope of us convincing anyone of your innocence,"</strong> after some careful consideration, he had decided to come at it from an angle that tended to help persuade just about anyone. He assumed she cared primarily for her own goals, like so many others. Perhaps not actively, but at least subconsciously. That angle was a very simple one: hammer home that it couldn't possibly be in their best interest to use what they know as a bargaining chip. In her case, ratting them out would amount to hacking her own leg off.<br>The stern lord raised his glass to his lips and took a sip, before finally turning to face those in the room. He leaned to the side, onto his arm on the windowsill as the conversation moved on.<br><br><strong>"If you have any judgement to levy towards the two of us, leave it at the door,"</strong> in all honesty, he had no idea how she felt, personally, about something like this. Did she condemn it? Approve of it? Not care one way or another? It made him nervous. She was now entrusted with their greatest secret and they had only known her for a very short amount of time. Who knew what she might do with this? He did not want to threaten her to silence her; he could not. It was not how he was raised and not how his Uncle taught him to use the powers his station offered. Besides, it had been his own fault for now closing those blasted curtains when he'd first noticed they were open. Asher had a way of being... distracting.</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gypsy</strong> on <strong>13-10-2016, 21:11:34</strong>
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				<strong>Caught Red Handed &amp; Taken to Task</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br>O'Hourihane<br>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div><br>The situation was uncomfortable all around.&nbsp; Meg supposed that if she had been conventional, she would have preferred to remain ignorant.&nbsp; If she had been conventional, she would likely have been dead upon the road, her body swelling beneath murky, muck saturated waters at the swamp's edge.<br><br>The thought cut through her like a knife, drawing her ramrod straight in the chair as if she had been unexpectedly dealt a blow.&nbsp; Her eyes, however, were distant, focused on some point that neither man could see, unless the culprit was a small watercolor of mediocre talent hung with perfect straightness upon the wall.<br><br><em>"What?"&nbsp; </em>That Asher had spoken drug her from the past back to the present, and Meg gave herself a little shake to shed it and re-orient.&nbsp; <em>"Oh.&nbsp; Of course.&nbsp; Didn't I say so?"<br></em><br>It was, perhaps, a little too abrupt, a little too casual for what the situation demanded.&nbsp; She had not meant to be, but her tongue sometimes ran ahead of her thoughts.&nbsp; Her brother would be so much better at diplomatically managing things, but he was not here.&nbsp; She would simply have to do the best that she could, and hope not to mess things up too badly.<br><br><em>"It is a shame that comfort over where one's affections have been given is the concern of those to whom it can make no real difference, but the world is as it is, not as we would have it."</em><br><br>There was sincerity in her voice, and certainly no hesitation in the slightly formal speech, but also a note of something else not easy to define, even to herself.&nbsp; Perhaps it was that they had each other, while she now had no-one that she could fully confide in, confess her worries to, and lighten her own burden by making a clean breast of her doubts, her anger, her feelings of helplessness.&nbsp; They were helping her, certainly, but that spoke to the kind of men they were.&nbsp; They would have helped any they came across in dire need, as she had been, and still was, of that she was certain.&nbsp; Yet, that, too, was a ... a curtain pulled across the window, a barrier to anything that might threaten that need.<br><em><br>"Lord Ellery, even if I did not need your help so desperately, I would not repay your kindness with betrayal of your ... of that which would not be well received by society, whether or not society has any true cause to concern itself." </em> His comments stung a bit, though she had developed enough of an impression of him to the contrary to believe that he had not intended to question her character.<br><br>It was certainly easy enough to understand his position.&nbsp; It was fear, not of condemnation, exactly, but of the hurt it would cause to one he cared for, and the obstacles that might prove to great to overcome.&nbsp; Could she tell him that she understood that better than she should, she would have ... but his next words closed off the confession before it was more than a half-formed thought.<br><br>In fact, it sounded very much like the words her father had used, some of the last he had spoken to her before his final departure.&nbsp; Words that did not invite sharing, but rather closed the door, and just as she had then, she did not fight or even protest that closing ... not then ... even as part of her was more aware of the consequence and potential cost.<br><br>Opportunities lost once could all too easily become lost forever, without warning.<br><br>Her lips snapped shut, and she bowed her head in acknowledgement of his demand, silent, ungracious perhaps, but not defiant, and waited for what would be, if it followed the expected form, dismissal.&nbsp; Her eyes did not reach those of Lord Graham's, but rather remained at shoulder level, and her posture was not the stiffness brought about by memory, but forced all the same, her hands held unmoving, folded in her lap.<br><br>However much she did not care for society's demands in the main, there were times when mimicking its expectations brought some measure of safety, or at least reprieve.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Ardor &amp; Intrigue (GypsyRose, impishcharm, &amp; Renegade Vile)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>impishcharm</strong> on <strong>18-10-2016, 01:25:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/29/2e/54292eda7aecbf7e8de1395949b4700a.jpg)<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Asher remained quietly seated in his chair as Graham assumed the role of Lord Ellery, and used it to effectively lay down the law of discretion before Meg.&nbsp; The Captain thought his approach was a touch harsh, but he was not going to openly contradict his lover when he was addressing her so formally, despite being in the middle of the whole ordeal.&nbsp; Graham was concerned, reasonably so, and at the moment Meg was a convenient target to allay his frustration.&nbsp; Of course, he would step in if things became too intense, and so far everything that had been said was fair.<br><br>So he waited patiently, idly swirling the amber liquid around his glass while taking intermittent sips.&nbsp; After what just happened, it would be more prudent to keep his wits than surrender them to the bottom of that glass, tempting as it may be.&nbsp; It made a low scraping sound as it slid across the wooden top in rejection, the room having gone quiet after Graham had said what he needed.<br><br>That left the tension in the air thick enough to choke on, and after several heartbeats Asher could stand it no more.&nbsp; He stood from his chair and, while making eye contact with his partner, approached Meg where she was seated.&nbsp; It was a casual endeavor; his intention was not to intimidate or threaten.&nbsp; That was not how he treated a lady under his protection.&nbsp; There was a bit of animosity toward Meg that stemmed from Graham, and Asher wanted to make sure she knew that her interests were still in mind.&nbsp; She had survivalist instincts and a good head on her shoulders that knew how to reason; she would know, as Asher knew, that there was no benefit for her to divulge their secret.<br><br>First and foremost, Asher was the guardian.&nbsp; The barrier between Graham and the outside world which had been cruel to his Lord, and it was no different between him and the gentle lady… only she was not as threatening as a jagged blade in the dark, or an arrowhead aimed at his love’s heart.<br><br>Like a proper barrier, he came around her chair and stood in front of it, blocking her from Graham.&nbsp; Or rather privately sharing with her the trust that was but a glint in his brightly colored, weary eyes.&nbsp; The day had been long and arduous, ending in a climactic event that was not at all the one he had in mind.&nbsp; It had taken its toll, creasing his brow in a slight frown and turning down the corners of his mouth, made even more severe by the days' old beard he had yet to remove.&nbsp; The look of someone who was irritated at the situation rather than the woman before him.<br><br>It started out as another lecture, continuing from where Graham had left off.&nbsp; “We cannot work together without trust; there are already enough knives pointed at our backs… <em>but</em>… I know it isn’t that way with you.&nbsp; You have my trust, and my protection – for as long as you’ve need of it.”&nbsp; He passed the other side of her chair, pausing to put a hand on her shoulder, then moved on to the fireplace to prod the growing fire with a poker.&nbsp; He hoped Graham would soften at the exchange and follow his lead, but he had spoken the truth regardless.&nbsp; <br><br>It was in his blood to protect; loyal to the ones who deserved it.<br><br>“Do you have any concerns?&nbsp; Speak freely, as there are no secrets between us now.”
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