Never Curse a Blessing [Kip & Wisti]
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Wistful Dream on 03-08-2009, 19:39:48</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Never Curse a Blessing [Kip &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>03-08-2009, 19:39:48</strong>
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				The wind was blowing through the trees around the mountain citadel, they moved like the waves of the ocean did almost, fans of green, light and dark both, to bow and flowing in the wind. Eyes of a steady, unblinking amber watched, looking out over the forested beauty of the kingdom. Fereshard was beautiful, wild, untamed. The people here lived with the spirits of the earth, with the earth itself. It was a paradise, with large, sprawling forests, clear bright lakes, the ocean and its cliffs back the east side of the country, while the Kingdom of Dalais was to their west and north. The wild beauty of the small kingdom, only three days to travel the breath of it, showed in her Champion, the King’s Champion. Short cropped dark blond hair, with darker threads of honey through it, ruffled in the wind. It came no further then her shoulders at most, and that only a few strands; and the color of her coppery skin showed the amount of time she spent out in the sun, making her a meld of golden hues. The golden girl. But not in the ways most would suspected. <br><br>She was lounging against the rail of the balcony at the highest point of the castle, looking out over all that could be lost. Would be lost unless she was able to wrest freedom from the greedy hands of the Solanen Empire. And she would. There was no alternative, no good reason to not, even if her life was given in it. Khalida Tsuam felt the weight of the hopes of her country upon her shoulders, the King, Tyrol was a good man but he was in his third score of years, and it would be best if he did not fight. They could not risk it, not with his young wife newly pregnant. If the babe did not carry to term all could be lost with the death of Tyrol. It sat uneasily upon him, and Kal had just left a most unpleasant session with him. Ty would never easily sit at the sidelines while his beloved country was threatened. But he trusted her to handle things, they all did. <br><br>Her hands shifted, clenching in their thin leather gloves as she flexed her fingers before her right hand went to touch the hilt of her sword. It hung heavy around her belt, ready for her should she need to draw it. Thankfully she should not upon castle grounds, at least not yet. Her golden eyes moved across the walls surrounding the castle, and then down to the training yards. Men and women trained down there now, hard and swift, all who were born to Fereshard had the strength of warriors within them, and all of them, old and young would fight proudly for their country. At least, she thought to herself, Dalais would side with them even if other countries upon the continent of Gith did not. And Solane did have to cross the treacherous waters of the Mey Sea. There was reason to hope. <br><br>A voice cleared behind her and she tilted her head back over her shoulder to look. It was Samuel, her second in many ways and the first of her High Guard, the fourteen warriors who answered directly to her and lead the troops. Rather like a general she supposed, in large countries. Samuel was tall, though Kal was not short by any means, reaching five eight herself, he was well over six feet, a giant among men and as deadly as his Captain. However he had a tender gentleness about him with children, and his singing could bring tears to the most cynical of men. Would he loose reasons to sing in this war? Hope was such a fickle, teasing thing.<br><br>His dark brown eyes showed compassion, surely knowing many of her thoughts, after all he was one of her best friends, though that was thanks to her first true friend who happened to be his wife, Layla. “We are ready to ride to the oracle.” <br><br>Khalida gave a nod and moved away from the balcony, her leather and linen clad body moving with all the suppleness of a hunting cat. There was no mistaking her for anything other then what she was, with the gait of deadly grace, the short cut of her hair and the wild fierceness of her eyes. Warrior. There had never truly been a time for her to be a woman. Together the Champion and her second descended the stairs inside the castle, making their way down and through it, nodding greetings to those who waved or called to them, but they never stopped moving. It was only a matter of a passage of minutes before they came out into the courtyard, the rest of the Guard, thirteen men and women, waiting and ready. Slim, slight and dark haired Qadira brought her roan stallion and with a touch to the other woman’s arm Kal swung herself up into the saddle. “Mount!” cried the deep bass of Samuel’s voice.<br><br>As one the others mounted, long bows and quivers on no few backs and hands, swords all belted to their sides and leather armor present. They would not wear full plate armor unless it came to a pitched battle, and leather was good enough to keep arrows from meeting their target if bandits should attempt to attack. But all in Fereshard were too caught up in the war that was coming to steal from one another. After all, criminal and innocent alike stood to loose everything to the onslaught, and no one but an assassin would try to kill one of the Guard now. Safety but at what a price.<br><br>Through the courtyard, the baily and then out of the walls and across the countryside, in a hard diamond point, with her at the center, they road, not walking the horses, but not galloping either. The oracle was a good half an hour away, and they would speak to him and hopefully gather some warning of the storm of violence that was about to descend. The sunlight could not warm her, not even riding out on Soliel would sooth down the concerns that plagued her now. Her people were strong and wild, their road their horses as friends rather then beasts, without reins, guiding with their knees; and their fight was one that their ancestors had faced as well when they founded the kingdom. Khalida just hoped that she was up to what the price would be for freedom. 
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