Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias & Jago]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Lilias on 27-02-2009, 13:01:56</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>27-02-2009, 13:01:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was still very early; the first service of the day would not start for another half hour or so, and the city was only beginning to stir, but in the circular conference room of the Magisterium headquarters, there was business being done already. Unpleasant business, from what it seemed.<br><br>'No,' said the taller cardinal firmly. 'Not another word of that. I <em>know</em> you can torture a confession out of anyone, Kalman, and confession is good for the soul. But the guards would only tell you what you wanted to hear, not necessarily the truth. We can't afford to be waylaid in this, of all things.'<br><br>'Is that so, Istvan?' replied the shorter one, clearly flushed with anger. 'Very unlike you. Are you sure you <em>want</em> her found at all?'<br><br>Istvan's face clouded. 'Don't question my loyalty, Kalman,' he warned. 'I <em>do</em> want her found, and I'm going to send someone after her who is able to track her and bring her back swiftly, instead of wasting time with your petty torturing fun.'<br><br>Kalman paused. 'Are you thinking of who I'm thinking?' he ventured, a look of appreciation beginning to spread over his face.<br><br>'The same, I guess,' nodded Istvan. 'He's worked for us before, after all. Send a sergeant of the guards to find him; I'll wager he's lurking in some dockland tavern or other. And no uniform - the people don't need to know there's anything amiss.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>01-03-2009, 20:08:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Word on the street -- they're lookin' for ya."<br><br>"I do not hide my whereabouts...nor my passtimes."<br><br>"You do not hide."<br><br>"I will hide when no longer wish to be found."<br><br>The muffled conversation went unheard amid the din of carousing revelers.&nbsp; The celebration?&nbsp; Who knew?&nbsp; Another night in paradise.&nbsp; Down in the Bowery all manner of illicit activity went unnoticed and unpoliced; it had become the unofficial Red Light District.&nbsp; The rest of the city had slowly stagnated like a babe smothered by the oppressive arm of a cradling Magisterium-mother.&nbsp; Some feel that safety comes with a price.&nbsp; Others feel that order and law descend from the divine.&nbsp; The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.<br><br>"Business is good?"<br><br>"You tell me."<br><br>"As good as it was last time."<br><br>"You'll come back?"<br><br>"I'll come."<br><br>Damien Vanderbilt erupted with the throes of erotic paroxysm; his hips bucked with clenched buttocks as she raised up to meet his last, powerful thrust.<br><br>"Will you visit your bastard as often as you visit his mother?"<br><br>"I spill my seed as easily as you spill the beer when waddle to another table.&nbsp; I wouldn't have left such a generous gift if I hadn't known you were barren.&nbsp; If you carry my child surely the gods smile upon you for they have already turned their backs on me."&nbsp; The man was lean with wiry muscle and had a frame that stood erect and proud -- like a wolf; his every movement was accompanied by the ripple of unknown force just beneath a superficial surface of scarred skin.&nbsp; It promised violence.&nbsp; She had but a few moments to lay there in repose and admire her client while his remnant seeped from her gaping receptacle the way so much honey leaked from an overturned jar.<br>He had been handsome in life.&nbsp; He wore his physique like the weathered, beaten leather he now pulled up and over his flacid member.&nbsp; The trousers creaked as he moved and hugged him so that it pleased her eye.&nbsp; His chest slithered with the undulating scars that clothe corded muscle; watching him don his tanned-hide vest told a tale all its own.&nbsp; Van checked his person with a cursory inspection that inventoried one visible blade, one hidden blade, a wad of crumpled cash, an unstrung bow, cord, and haversack.&nbsp; The metal-studded belt girded him and displayed, proudly, the scant adornments of the bounty hunter.&nbsp; Tossing a long, heavy cloak over one shoulder he silently placed her wage and tip on the nightstand before heading to the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>03-03-2009, 12:23:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The kingdom had known peace for 14 uninterrupted years. There were only two ways to stop two neighbouring barons from squabbling - annihilation or marriage. These two had opted for the latter. It had turned out to be a fairly good match, and the new king and queen were decent rulers of their united lands. The oldest of their children, a daughter, was already betrothed to another neighbour. The kingdom would soon grow even more.<br><br>Just like the Magisterium had done. During the decades of border wars, the clergy of the Guardian were one of many orders, as likely to perish as any other, and many had. The emerging royalty were devotees, so safety and prosperity were assured. Unlike the other orders and their people.<br><br>There could be only one? Never say that the oppressed cannot make an about-face and become oppressors given half a chance.<br><br>The sergeant waited in a corner of the common room. People involved in the wars remembered one another, and a few questions to the right person saved him a lot of wandering. He spotted Van coming down the stairs and stood to draw his attention.<br><br>'Looks like another job for you, old wolf,' he said tersely, low enough not to be overheard by the late revellers. 'Ride with me.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>03-03-2009, 18:42:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Another job?" he echoed skeptically.&nbsp; "Your employers have the strangest interpretation of that word.&nbsp; This place'll do and no one will be the wiser.&nbsp; You can start by buying me a drink while we discuss payment.&nbsp; Anything else is unimportant right now."<br><br>"Don't you want to know..." the sergeant began before being cut off abruptly with a glare and a growled response.<br><br>"Death is in the details."<br><br>Van coolly descended the rest of the steps and made the table in a few easy strides.&nbsp; His every movement was smooth, easy, and promised violence; the bounty-hunter's demeanor was surprisingly dour.<br><br>"You'd think your frown would take a vacation for a few minutes after a thorough 'entertaining'."&nbsp; The sergeant's familiarity grated on him but within moments he wore a cool, calm, and collected mask that was ready to do business.&nbsp; The military man waved a hand at the barkeep who, six-deep, shrugged with a sloppy grin and waved back ineffectually.<br><br>"She's still upstairs, man, you're going to have to get me a drink yourself," the grizzly man snarled with a wolfish grin.<br><br>With a sigh the sergeant rose and began shouldering his way to the bar.<br><br>This was going to be a very long night.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>04-03-2009, 10:01:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fortunately, it wasn't too long before the sergeant came back and plopped two flagons of ale on the table. The waitress had just come down. Amusing how she had been spared yet another round.<br><br>The sergeant took a long swig of his ale; not the finest brew in the kingdom, but damn fine for the standards of the establishment. 'I know all you want to know is a name and a number of gold pieces. The fact is I can tell you neither. You'll <em>have</em> to come to the Magisterium headquarters with me.' <br><br>He eyed the hunter warily over the drink. 'Whoever they want caught must be damn important if they want you to do it. Plenty of blood money, I reckon,' he added sourly. 'And Cardinal Istvan is handling it. That's never good news.' He drained the last of his ale and sat back. 'Ready?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>06-03-2009, 14:30:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You know I don't like being so...visible," he hesitated on the last word just enough for the sergeant to continue.&nbsp; "Tsss..." Van hissed through his teeth as he ground his jaw around a gullet-full of mediocre ale.&nbsp; His nod of 'thanks' almost felt like wasted.&nbsp; Perhaps it <em>had been.</em>&nbsp; The old wolf surveyed the panorama warily -- no one was the wiser.&nbsp; "Istvan is overseeing this one, eh?"&nbsp; His voice was low, not quite hushed, but under-spoken; thin lips curled and moved almost imperceptibly.<br><br>He'd have time to ruminate on the jaunt.&nbsp; Now was the time for nodding and leaving.<br><br>"Aye, I am.&nbsp; Let's put this hole behind us."&nbsp; He rose quickly and easily to wend his way through the bustling tavern crowd and out to the street.&nbsp; His eyes met the waitress' but once and didn't return her knowing wink.&nbsp; Van would welcome the road again.&nbsp; He would welcome the hunt again.&nbsp; Maybe not so soon this time -- another day or two of civilization usually did him good -- but he couldn't weather here for long.&nbsp; The old wolf felt as out of place here in the city as Cardinal Istvan would had he come to the tavern to fetch Damien himself.&nbsp; The old fanatic would probably attempt to exorcise the entire establishment.&nbsp; Van smiled inwardly and mounted his horse easily as it was brought about.<br><br>The sergeant looked over his shoulder at the bounty hunter and clucked his horse into action.&nbsp; "Let's ride!"<br><br>Van groaned quietly.&nbsp; He never enjoyed dealing with lackeys, however, he liked being summoned by them even less; it made him feel like some kind of twisted celebrity.&nbsp; He would be thankful when he could leave this all behind, one day.&nbsp; Ahh...maybe not.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>06-03-2009, 22:05:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They were not that visible, after all. The sergeant led the way through one of the back doors of the Magisterium headquarters, and not to one of the formal audience rooms, but towards the private quarters. A black-clad, silent chamberlain escorted the hunter to Cardinal Istvan's study, and left before Van had even entered.<br><br>The Cardinal had his back to the door, gazing out of the window at the flickering city lights. 'There shouldn't be any of those,' he mused, aware of the other man's presence. 'Everyone should be in bed, safe, out of mischief.'<br><br>He turned to face his guest, although he didn't invite him to sit down. 'There is someone we want back, swiftly and silently,' he started, without preamble. 'She has been found guilty of heresy, blasphemy, sorcery, plus multiple murders. And now she has broken out of prison. Bring her back to be the example she was born to be, and you will get 300 gold pieces. Interested?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>07-03-2009, 18:58:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Three-hundred gold pieces was...hefty.&nbsp; He finally settled on the word.&nbsp; The gravity of the situation impressed such discretion on him.&nbsp; This was someone they wanted back badly and they'd be willing to go to nearly any lengths to get the job done.&nbsp; Let the games begin.<br><br>"I'm freshly returned from the Wilds -- back not even a full day.&nbsp; I appreciate the immediacy of your situation but I'm sure her <em>sins</em> can go unpunished for a little longer."&nbsp; Van waxed brazen replacing his smug complacency in the face of tyranny.&nbsp; It paid the bills.<br><br>"You'd do well to keep the derision from your tone, 'hunter...lest you quickly find yourself on the wrong side of God."&nbsp; The cardinal raised an eyebrow as if tempting the fates.&nbsp; "You are my necessary-evil.&nbsp; Never forget your place."<br><br>"Her crimes are as commonplace as the very lay that line your pews with tithes and limn your robe with gold.&nbsp; Your god calls them sins.&nbsp; Your people call you fear.&nbsp; My place is what I make of it.&nbsp; The heretics are <em>always</em> my quarry when <em>you</em> are my employer." Van jabbed.<br><br>"How much will it take?" the cardinal countered bluntly.<br><br>"I need new supplies.&nbsp; Your pursuits take me further and further from civilzation each time.&nbsp; I'm forced to wonder when the long arm will let go."&nbsp; Van riposted succinctly.<br><br>"The Magisterium's arm is endless...it moves the hand that rocks the cradle.&nbsp; You merely span that distance for me...us."&nbsp; Had the cardinal forgotten himself?&nbsp; Such a slip would be a juicy morsel for the arch-diocese.&nbsp; "Four-hundred then," the cardinal spat with finality.&nbsp; Par the fool off with fool's gold.<br><br>"For four-hundred gold-pieces I'm going to ask you far more questions than you care to answer.&nbsp; For five-hundred all I need is a name.&nbsp; Three seventy-five right now and the rest when your heretic kneels at your feet."<br><br>"As usual, 'hunter, you drive a hard bargain."&nbsp; Istvan hurled a weighty bag of gold at the wolfish man after adding a handful of coins to it from some hidden stash behind the desk.<br><br>"As usual, cardinal, you spend the church's money as freely as if it were your own."&nbsp; Van couldn't resist the temptation of a final riposte.&nbsp; He was too used to being the "necessary-evil."<br><br>"Leave me," Istvan growled.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>08-03-2009, 03:32:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the hunter didn't move, Istvan understood, and inwardly cursed himself for losing his cool, especially in front of the hired dog. A name. And something more.<br><br>He reached behind the desk again and brought out a mask - a smooth white cast of a woman's face. Unpainted, of course, so there was no determining age, but it still showed some delicacy around her pointy chin and chiselled cheekbones. It was something little known, and those who did know about it considered it borderline perverse, that the Magisterium took death masks of their convicts while they were still alive.<br><br>'The name is Malissa,' said the cardinal shortly. 'Bren something or other - her heathenish people don't have family names, they identify as their mothers' children. We are not sure if she persuaded anyone to let her out or found her own way; so she either has accomplices or is more dangerous than we thought. She's from the Grey Hills, and might try to reach her own and disappear among them again. Track her before she gets there, ferret her out at her village, I don't care what and how, but bring her back. Alive and unharmed. She has a lot to account for. Understood? <em>Now</em> leave me.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>10-03-2009, 18:16:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Say no more."<br><br>The cardinal grunted and turned back to the city like some silent sentinel.<br><br>It was as much an acquiescence as it was a dismissal.&nbsp; Van relished these little exchanges with the cardinals; they kept his head on its toes -- trading repartee, honing his wit, and playing with fire.&nbsp; He was a necessary evil.&nbsp; He was afforded such liberal freedoms in the face of Holy Crusade.&nbsp; Perhaps it was just a matter of time until he was only evil and no longer necessary.&nbsp; Those fleeting thoughts ushered the bounty-hunter out of the Istvan's office with the cordial pleasantries of a forbidden mistress.<br><br>"Power is my mistress," he thought vacantly before the reassuring weight of gold in his pocket caressed his breast.&nbsp; The death-mask had been secreted away delicately in the haversack and would only be unveiled in private.&nbsp; There was much work to be done and many preparations to be made.&nbsp; Grey Hills was still a fortnight's hard ride away and his quarry had a head-start.<br><br>Let the Hunt begin...and with it...the Thrill!
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>11-03-2009, 12:43:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was frustrating. She needed to hurry. There would definitely be someone after her by now, and they would have resources she didn't. She couldn't ride the horse to death, because that would mean she would have to continue on foot, and that would lose her any head start she had. The only way was to save the horse's strength and pray to the Triad that whoever was hunting her didn't have access to royal relays...<br><br>Getting out of the city was the easy part, and she had been lucky. Not everyone had a kinsman who could provide a horse and some provisions and wish her godspeed. But out in the open, she would have to explain why she was travelling alone.<br><br>She had ridden hard all night, hidden during the day, and off again at sundown. There were no highwaymen in the woods so close to the royal city, and she believed she could handle them anyway. If only she had the time to rest her mind from that massive casting that had allowed her to walk out of prison unnoticed...<br><br>The scabbed-over cuts on her wrists, where the shackles had bitten into her skin, were oozing again. She ignored them, looking around for her next hiding-place as the grey light of dawn grew stronger.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>12-03-2009, 15:16:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What ho?" the guard called to the man on horseback from the sentry-post on the side of the road.&nbsp; The horse was slick with a sheen of perspiration and looked thankful for the respite.&nbsp; The guard's twin leveled a halberd at the rider as he moved from the shadows; it was nearly midnight.<br><br>"I've have a mind to take that as an insult coming from you," Van grinned wickedly as he dismounted the horse mid-stride.&nbsp; The first guard caught the reins and calmed the beast with a handful of oats.<br><br>"Glad to see you're doing well, Old Wolf.&nbsp; What brings you this way?"<br><br>"You haven't heard?&nbsp; I'm moving faster than the king's own decree.&nbsp; Maybe Istvan wanted my business as muffled as his victim's cries.&nbsp; Take your pick, Saijo."<br><br>"You leave me without details in an unfinished story every time.&nbsp; Where am I to get my fill of excitement?"<br><br>"Well its obvious you guessed incorrectly about your job.&nbsp; Delusions of grandeur?&nbsp; Or just ignorance?&nbsp; Anyway, I need a fresh horse, watered, fed, and ready for a <em>hard</em> ride.&nbsp; This segment is the longest and I plan to be there before daybreak."<br><br>"Hah!"&nbsp; That made the sentry bark with laughter.&nbsp; His companion quipped," you'll make it, aye, carryin' the beast on your shoulders."&nbsp; Saijo cleared his throat and the man stood down, lowered his weapon, and went back to the post.&nbsp; "Forgive him...he knows not his own place."<br><br>"Keep that leash on your mutt a little tighter, Saijo, lest you wake one day to find him missing," Van growled as he accepted the fresh horse and mounted it in one swift motion.&nbsp; His saddlebags had already been swapped and his haversack was tethered neatly to the saddle just above the horse's rump.&nbsp; "Until next we meet my friend."<br><br>"Aye, until next we meet."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>13-03-2009, 13:30:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She reached the ridge at moonrise. Thank the Triad, it was going to be a clear night; the way down into mesa country went over some of the worst terrain in the kingdom. Most people preferred to take the roundabout route and spend another week on the road than brave the loose scree that threatened to bring them the short and painful way down at every step.<br><br>But this woman was of the hill people, who lived in the saddle, and had no time to waste. Once down, she could ride upstream through the rock desert, making any pursuer lose her trail in the water, and be with her people in about three days' time.<br><br>The horse was a bit skittish, but her hand on its neck calmed it enough to start down the steep, barely-there path. Gravel crunched loudly beneath its hooves. Well, it could not be helped. The rider guided the animal on, with firm knees and a gentle hand. It was going to be a long night.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>13-03-2009, 18:44:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hunter's catch their prey.&nbsp; They <em>could</em> catch <strong>up</strong> to their prey, but it was always preferable just to catch it.&nbsp; Van knew the country better than most save a few of the indigenous folk.&nbsp; Using the royal relays would allow him at least a day of preparation in the Grey Hills and maybe even some sleep.&nbsp; Even if the hometown girl cut through the country and braved the treacherous passes, a dangerous current, and unpredictable weather -- and made it home alive -- she just couldn't move as quickly as the Hunter.&nbsp; His time on the road was long and lonely and gave him much time for reflection.&nbsp; He found himself psychoanalyzing a target he knew almost nothing about.<br><br>She would be strong, would fight tooth and nail, and have a spine; she would feel bolstered after having sprung free from a Magisterium holding cell.&nbsp; Had she any help?&nbsp; Doubtful a guard would betray the hand that feeds him.&nbsp; She could be persuasive?&nbsp; Doubtful again.&nbsp; Could she use magic?&nbsp; She hadn't fought her way out -- that much was obvious.&nbsp; If she had gotten help she had also gotten a fresh horse...maybe two.&nbsp; Let's say two.&nbsp; Moving at night, staying off the main roads, everyone stays healthy, no one turns an ankle, at best she makes the Wilds in a few days.&nbsp; Who is this person?&nbsp; Desperate.&nbsp; She knows she's being hunted.&nbsp; What makes her so important?&nbsp; She is deemed important, imprisoned, and magically escapes?&nbsp; She is underestimated.&nbsp; The girl...woman...is accustomed to being underestimated.&nbsp; Take great care Old Wolf.&nbsp; All is not as it seems.<br><br>With a few days of hard travel and foraged food behind her she'll be thinking less clearly.&nbsp; She'll be glad to be home.&nbsp; Her friends, family, support will harbor her...hide her.&nbsp; She's the hometown Queen?&nbsp; Outcast?&nbsp; No way to tell but he must be exceedingly careful on her turf.&nbsp; The trap must be perfect.&nbsp; He must pass unseen.&nbsp; He must be cunning like the wolf.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>14-03-2009, 14:27:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was broad daylight when she reached the bottom of the gully. She had had to alight halfway and lead the horse down, to avoid tumbling both of them to their deaths. They had made it fine, but she was more nervous than ever.<br><br>The stream was rolling away swiftly, still high so early in the season. In the summer it dried almost to a trickle, and there was little to drink or cover tracks then. She gazed at the water with longing. A swim, after all this time in the closeness of her cell, would have been heavenly. Wash the corruption of the city and the Magisterium people off her. Reach her people clean again.<br><br>But it would have to wait until the evening. Now, both horse and rider needed rest. There weren't many nooks in the lee of the rock that could hold them both, but soon they weren't likely to need that much cover. She slept, dreaming of the open country of the hills, and riding free, still not spotting the hunter coming closer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>16-03-2009, 05:37:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When Damien Vanderbilt arrived in the Grey Hills something immediately struck him as "off."&nbsp; The people here were downtrodden, sure, but their sullen moods and drawn faces looked conspicuous.&nbsp; The Old Wolf, always wary, decided not to make <em>any</em> contact.&nbsp; His quarry might be well-known here, a medicine-worker or healer of sorts, perhaps she was a town-hero?&nbsp; Maybe she had been an outcast.&nbsp; Her family still here?&nbsp; Friends?&nbsp; There were too many unknowns.&nbsp; With her arrival imminent he couldn't take any chances.&nbsp; As it is he had what he guessed was nearly three days on her.&nbsp; That left one for reconnaissance, one for preparations, and one for a little rest.&nbsp; If everything went according to plan he'd be back in the arms of his wench before her dirty little snatch had even cooled off.&nbsp; Van shuddered.&nbsp; Why did he do such things?&nbsp; It was a question he'd ask the gods when they finally met.<br><br>He tethered his horse to a post outside the general store and went inside for some provisions.&nbsp; The air was crisp, fresh, and dry and actually brought a smile to his face.&nbsp; The smells that surfed the winds were nutty aromas mixed with spices and sweets; living in the country had its advantages.&nbsp; The only stimulation his olfactories got in the city was the nose-burning acrid-smelling pitch-flavored musk of rancid meat, garbage, piss, shit, sugar, and vinegar.&nbsp; If you lived there long enough you actually grew accustomed to it.&nbsp; Maybe that's what repulsed the hunter so much.&nbsp; The city was his necessary evil.&nbsp; He would permit it only so much power, only so much control...and only so much putrescence.&nbsp; Theirs was the love-hate relationship of two ships passing in the night.<br><br>The man behind the counter looked up only for a moment to meet Van's eyes and quickly avert his.&nbsp; He counted out a few silver's worth of tethers, rope, some oats, and a refill of flint and tinder.&nbsp; What had gotten into these people?&nbsp; Something was amiss.<br><br>Stick to the plan, Van, and don't get any funny ideas.&nbsp; Snooping will get you noticed and noticed will get you caught.&nbsp; Whatever is going on behind the scenes is hardly worth your trouble and definitely not worth Istvan's ire should you fail.&nbsp; Shit.&nbsp; He was right.&nbsp; He usually was.&nbsp; Maybe that was why he had such a difficult time listening to himself...or was that ignoring his conscience?&nbsp; He could never tell.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>16-03-2009, 18:09:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At last, the end was in sight. One more ridge to go, and she would be out of the barren mesa country and onto the grassy hills of her people. It had been a hard ride during chilly nights. It hadn't rained for some time, thankfully, and the ground was packed. Squelching through mud was not fun, nor fast.<br><br>She wasn't much the worse for wear; sleeping outdoors was not exactly a hardship, compared with existence beneath the roof she had vacated scant nights earlier. She almost snarled at the thought. <em>Not going back. Not alive.</em><br><br>Of course, it had been easy so far. No run-ins with hunters. Either they were inept, or... That last stretch was going to be dangerous. Walking into a trap just on the edge of safety...<br><br>She was going along one rock wall, picking out her trail carefully against the gathering gloom. She didn't notice the rainclouds gathering silently above, nor that she could be watched from higher up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>19-03-2009, 04:59:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damien Vanderbilt was a simple man; he had simple tastes and simple desires.&nbsp; He had honed a sharp wit for trading repartee and an even sharper sense of survival instincts.&nbsp; Nevertheless, he considered himself simple in all things.&nbsp; His trap was not an elaborate one.&nbsp; It was neither ruse-within-a-ruse nor exotic prestidigitation.&nbsp; He was neither barbaric nor truly civilized...but he could be civil.&nbsp; And he was a humble winner.&nbsp; He wouldn't gloat over his quarry nor would he abuse his prey but he demanded the respect of a higher authority.&nbsp; The hunter held very few illusions that would remain un-broken upon non-lethal impact.&nbsp; <br><br>She would fight him with everything she had.&nbsp; She would use every trick and tactic at her disposal.&nbsp; She, no doubt, would lose -- adding fuel to the fire.&nbsp; He didn't understand magic and he knew that lay at the root of his fear.&nbsp; It didn't have any easy explanations.&nbsp; He would bind and gag her immediately.&nbsp; However she had escaped her cell she had probably needed the use of her arms, legs, or mouth.&nbsp; A combination of the three?&nbsp; The hunter had no desire to carry a cocooned heretic all the way back to the Imperial City.&nbsp; She would test him every step of the way.&nbsp; He must always be on guard, wary, ready for anything.&nbsp; Hells!&nbsp; He might even have to keep her from harm's way.&nbsp; Would she take that step?&nbsp; Would she take her own life?&nbsp; She's no idiot.&nbsp; She knows what awaits her in the Magisterium's "cleansing" chambers.&nbsp; Confession in Pain.&nbsp; Absolution in Death.<br><br>Death.&nbsp; It was a necessary evil.&nbsp; It was the eternal spectator and yet also the eternal ruminator.&nbsp; Watching over you.&nbsp; Sometimes inside of you.&nbsp; Istvan's hand was the perverted purveyor.&nbsp; The Old Wolf was his long reach...like a dog trained to fetch.&nbsp; The Old Wolf was Darkness and Hope.&nbsp; And he continued to live with himself.&nbsp; He continued to live the life he had carved out in such twisted and troubled times.&nbsp; Ofttimes he waxed philosophical and traded "what ifs" over inner-monologue.&nbsp; This was one of those times.<br><br>What if things were different?&nbsp; Would he be a different man?&nbsp; How would the world look without Damien Vanderbilt?&nbsp; Had he not been born, not grown, not been brought into the world.&nbsp; Not even walked this earth.&nbsp; Better unborn?&nbsp; Better it would be for her.&nbsp; Better it would have been for her family, for her children, for this village -- a village not so unlike his own in another lifetime.&nbsp; Bringing lambs to the slaughter held the same trappings as ferrying the dead across the river Styx.&nbsp; He had already draughted Nepenthe and drowned in the Lethe.<br><br>An unexpected noise startled him.&nbsp; The clever creak of telltale wood alerted him to another presence.&nbsp; Old boards never kept secrets.&nbsp; That's why he kept them for companions.&nbsp; Someone had furtively slipped the silent alarm he had set on the door to the barn in which he now crouched...couched in darkness.&nbsp; This guy was good.&nbsp; Van lay the loaded crossbow at his feet and aimed it toward the stairs, readied Hector in his hand, and let the familiar weight of Ajax settle against a concealed guard up his sleeve and along his forearm.&nbsp; Van's breathing slowed to imperceptible.&nbsp; The shadow was upon him.&nbsp; A faint breeze, like fingertips that pitter-pattered across his face, was his only warning.&nbsp; The Old Wolf cocked his neck slightly left just as a weighted-knife thudded into the plank behind where his neck had been just a breath ago.&nbsp; "SSSSSSSSsssssssssss..." this time he heard it loudly and clearly.&nbsp; He had been sitting in the dark for so long that not only had his eyes adjusted but his other senses enjoyed heightened acuity.&nbsp; Hector jumped up to parry a well-placed lunge that would have spigoted a key artery in his thigh.&nbsp; The assassin was good.&nbsp; The dance had begun.<br><br>Hector remained close to Van's body in a formidably defensive position.&nbsp; Its keen edge was broad and heavy for a short-blade.&nbsp; Van wielded it grace that belied his strength.&nbsp; A knife darted at his flank and Hector moved to parry, threatening riposte for just long-enough.&nbsp; The hesitation left an opening for Ajax to sink deep into the assailant's tricep.&nbsp; "Hissss!" gasped the assassin through gritted teeth.&nbsp; Steel flashed in the absence of light as swirling shadows danced with death.&nbsp; Dual-wielding mixed blades was an uncommon fighting style and very few men had trained against it's cajoling...almost whimsical attack.&nbsp; This assassin had clearly underestimated his prey.&nbsp; Van pressed the injured man and let Ajax dip below his guard.&nbsp; The opening was tempting...it was made to be.&nbsp; The masked man left it alone.&nbsp; He was learning.&nbsp; That usually wasn't a good sign.&nbsp; The Old Wolf needed to end this quickly or risk drawing even more attention to the barn-loft.&nbsp; Van lunged with Ajax right at a guarded torso and felt the skin part as the assassin jumped backwards and punished his hasty maneuver.&nbsp; "Tskkk!" He clucked his teeth reproachfully...more at his attacker than at himself.&nbsp; For, now the man was in position to catch a crossbow bolt right in the groin.&nbsp; Hector wavered hesitantly for an instant before covering Van's overhead defense as he crouched to stomp on the release.&nbsp; Click. THWANG!!!!<br><br>"AAa" was all that escaped the man's lips before the Old Wolf was upon him like a lecherous Prince Charming.&nbsp; Van caught the man's fall in his arms the way he had once dipped Valerie Orstadt at the debutante ball.&nbsp; A calloused hand muffled the scream and a knife beneath the chin threatened certain death.&nbsp; "Who sent you?" It was barely a whisper.&nbsp; Muffled moans answered him and he removed his hand partly.&nbsp; "Whose treachery is this?" Van hissed in the man's face.&nbsp; Lips moved, the jaw cranked, but no sound outpoured.&nbsp; "Speak man!" Van hissed as loudly as he dared and removed his hand entirely.&nbsp; The lips curled to reveal glinting inside the cavity.&nbsp; The mouth opened and closed repeatedly.&nbsp; "Speak damn you!"&nbsp; Teeth clamped shut with a mighty chomp that sprayed gory finality all over Van's hand and wrist.&nbsp; Van was at once curious but quickly overcome with disgust.&nbsp; As he focused on the sounds dribbling from the poor fool's face the sputtering slowed to a gargle.&nbsp; "Shit."<br><br>Van put the man out of his miserable existence as he assembled the pieces of the puzzle.<br><br>"Shit," he cursed one last time before mobilizing, reloading the crossbow, and leaving his perch for good.&nbsp; When cover was blown the entire mission was jeopardized.&nbsp; This woman was good...very good, in fact...but she had underestimated the hunter.&nbsp; Had she really been behind it though?&nbsp; Were there other forces at work?&nbsp; If there were then Istvan was facing direct opposition and Van had gotten caught in the middle of a political/religious powerplay -- a coup?&nbsp; If there weren't then the assassin was either the minion of his quarry or Istvan and neither made much sense.&nbsp; Would the Cardinal send him on a fool's errand only to have him killed far away from the city?&nbsp; He could have done so himself -- in person!&nbsp; How would the woman know he'd be after her?&nbsp; Informed?&nbsp; Unlikely.&nbsp; He had kept a very low profile and been exceedingly discreet with his tongue.&nbsp; Bottom line:&nbsp; There wasn't enough information to draw any conclusions.&nbsp; The only thing he knew was if someone wanted him dead someone probably wanted her dead as well.&nbsp; The probability was still low but it was all he had to go on.&nbsp; Now the daylight would be his ally.&nbsp; He would slip from the barn during the daylight and stick to the main drag.&nbsp; Travelers, pan-handlers, merchants, and various and sundry others pass through this town all the time.&nbsp; Hopefully.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>19-03-2009, 23:16:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The vision was cut short with a gasp, and the scrying crystal slipped through fingers gone slack. Derik moved swiftly, catching Malissa before she collapsed. He gathered her up like a doll, laid her on one of the cushioned benches next to the fireplace, then retrieved the crystal in a handkerchief, careful not to touch it with bare hands. 'You shouldn't have tried that, dear. You're still weak from that ride...'<br><br>Malissa drew the blanket around her and shivered for a few moments before answering. Her face was drawn and tired, but her grey-blue eyes were alert. 'I had to. And you saw yourself why.'<br><br>Derik nodded grimly. He had some of the Talent himself, although not nearly as strong as the woman. He had shared part of her vision. The part about two hunters coming after her, from two different directions, and one killing the other. He had a nagging impression that it was not a matter of rivalry between the two men, but between the sources they had come from. But there was no tracing those.<br><br>'You see why I have to go,' Malissa went on, so softly that the sound was almost drowned in the noise of the pounding rain outside. 'I'm putting all of you at risk. The pass in the mountains will still be open... a few more days, and I'll be over the border and beyond the reach of the Magisterium...'<br><br>They looked at each other; both knowing that, once the planned royal wedding took place, the Magisterium would extend its nets over the border, and there would be nowhere to hide. They could be very determined, and Malissa's case was one of those. She just wished she could at least know why.<br><br>Derik sighed. 'The weather's not fit for man or beast out there,' he mused, 'but you expect that nobody will track you in this, don't you? I'll get your horse ready - you get some rest.'<br><br>An hour later, they parted at the stables door, after the kind of embrace exchanged by people who don't expect to see each other alive again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>20-03-2009, 21:43:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Something was still wrong.<br><br>She'd be wary of the Grey Hills but should have come home.&nbsp; How could he have missed it?&nbsp; These were terrible times.&nbsp; The doe was flighty.&nbsp; She'd have made for the border if she had even an inkling of trepidation, but she couldn't make it without feeding and watering her horse, stopping to rest, and packing supplies.&nbsp; If she hadn't come into town then she must have stopped on the outskirts; it was there that he'd begin his search.<br><br>The Old Wolf took a moment to saddle up his horse.&nbsp; The beast had gotten two solid days of rest after being pushed to the brink of exhaustion.&nbsp; Now came the actual "tracking" part of his job.&nbsp; This would be easy work for the animal.&nbsp; Under normal circumstances he'd have sent word ahead to the border but he didn't know who he could trust anymore.&nbsp; He'd have to find her the old-fashioned way.&nbsp; This little game of cat and mouse could only last so long.&nbsp; The animal shivered and stretched a little bit under the familiar weight of the saddle and saddlebags.&nbsp; The old, conditioned leather creaked as he tightened it around the steed's girth.<br><br>With a heavy shove the rotting, old barn door budged and allowed him to get his entire gloved hand around its edge.&nbsp; It was easier to find purchase.&nbsp; In moments, he was mounted and galloping hard toward the edge of town; finding her tracks would be the easy part.&nbsp; Finding her before she got caught was another problem entirely.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>22-03-2009, 03:06:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The rain hadn't abated at all. Her cloak was soaked, the edge of the hood dripping into her eyes every few moments. She was beyond tired; she had even stopped caring for the hoofprints in the muddy ground behind her. The path wound uphill, the slope gentle enough, but going on for long enough to try the stamina of both horse and rider.<br><br>The stream ahead would be flooded, she knew, but she trusted that she could negotiate the ford safely, if she didn't have to hurry. There was a travel shelter just across, and there she would be able to rest for a few hours. If anyone was tracking her with more than mundane means, the swift running water would break the trail.<br><br>She noticed another rider approaching just as the stream, flowing in white-crested waves, came into view. She didn't believe for a moment that it was accidental, and suddenly her plans were going to waste. She had to run now, until she either outran the hunter over the border, or one of them perished along the way.<br><br>Malissa bren Naella wasn't going to be imprisoned again.<br><br>She heeled the horse into a gallop and went straight for the marked spot of the ford. The stones, of course, were hardly visible beneath the water. The horse half-slipped several times, and a less adept rider would have tumbled off long before reaching the other bank. It was only a few paces before solid land that the horse finally went down, sending the rider head first against the rocks.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>23-03-2009, 06:35:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sky wept.&nbsp; The gods drained their infinte misery upon his head; their moods waxed sullen and petulant.&nbsp; Seldom had the sun truly shone since The Magisterium presided.&nbsp; It almost seemed to him that their stained glass-filters separated the purity of imperfection from religious hegemony.&nbsp; Vagrant theologians, the lot of them.&nbsp; The Old Wolf snorted.<br><br>Some day fire wipes the rain,<br>Fears are frozen tears whisper <br>things that no one hears,<br>Cry now, cry now for me again<br>Tomorrow's pride and pain<br>Why you kneel before my name<br><br>The litany played against the angry patter of each sanctimonious droplet like a riddle that badgered outlawed tunes played on outlawed pipes.&nbsp; Sodden, he cast a devious stare to the heavens that accentuated his wolfish grin.&nbsp; He wore a mien slightly wistful and full of reflection like a comfortable old cloak that hid all manner of concealed weaponry.&nbsp; As if, silently, he acknowledged the gods and paid them homage with a moment's pause; man's place in the world -- his universe -- is defined by such moments.&nbsp; There are forces at work that are beyond our control.&nbsp; "Sing thyself, I pray thee..." Van beseeched the skies the way a boy might if he had the ear of his father.&nbsp; But no.&nbsp; The heavens sang for no man.&nbsp; His place in the world was ever-changing like the tides of a flooded tributary.&nbsp; He could as soon expect an answer from Istvan, himself.&nbsp; Why do I feel like the pawn of prophecy and the fawn of fate?&nbsp; Why do I hunt still?&nbsp; Are we such beasts that once we're programmed for action we disavow our autonomy?&nbsp; This is a system with rules, Damien.&nbsp; This system is based in a world of rules.&nbsp; Would you upset the order for a glimpse of divination?&nbsp; Would you renege on the rules for a twist of fate?<br><br>"Imperious, choleric, irascible, extreme in everything, with a<br>dissolute imagination of the like which has never been seen,<br>atheistic to the point of fanaticism, there you have me in a nutshell<br>and kill me again or take me as I am,<br>for I shall not change...never."<br><br>The words fell upon the ears of the Son, were taken to heart, and formed shapelessly from a void of endless emotion.<br><br>"Breed of a nameless force, origin of our Sin<br>We are as large as Gods, we are their tragedy<br>We are the four arms of the solar Cross<br>Lightning in incredulous faces the flames of Uthopy"<br><br>Would you die for this?<br><br>Damien Vanderbilt couldn't answer himself.&nbsp; He dared not.&nbsp; No, not now.&nbsp; Abruptly a lone rider bloomed into view the way a burgeoning love blossoms in the rain.&nbsp; The matte colors shone prismatically under The Grey skies and erupted in his piercing blue eyes.&nbsp; The horse was weary and sagged beneath its burden.&nbsp; The rider was tired, careless, and thinking clearly enough to get caught and cornered.&nbsp; Shit.&nbsp; He had ruminated his way into a compromising situation.&nbsp; He had no cover -- happened upon his quarry almost magically -- and it appeared as if they <em>both</em> caught eachother unawares.&nbsp; The Old Wolf blinked away the confusion in an instant but couldn't shake that nagging shame men felt when they accidentally walk-in on a woman changing.&nbsp; Thoughtful-repose didn't even begin to describe it.&nbsp; In that instant Van was not the hunter, she not the prey, and he appreciated the sturdy, sodden form of willful dignity.&nbsp; In that span of hearbeats he appreciated the gentle curve of her cloak, the downtrodden hunch of her soaked mantle, pride that lined her spine with defiant steel.&nbsp; Heresy limned the horseback form like a nimbus of light.&nbsp; The Old Wolf had chased his quarry to the brink of exhaustion and took but a moment to appreciate her.&nbsp; This was one of those moments that time captured in the Historian's annals.&nbsp; It was age-old and honored through the ages by predators and prey alike.&nbsp; The lion spots the gazelle.&nbsp; The hound spots the rabbit.&nbsp; The Old Wolf spots the deer.&nbsp; This is a moment of intrinsic knowledge and instinct groomed by generations of breeding.&nbsp; It is a moment that is as deniable as our DNA.&nbsp; And it is over in a breath.<br><br>Shit.<br><br><strong>She heeled the horse into a gallop and went straight for the marked spot of the ford. The stones, of course, were hardly visible beneath the water. The horse half-slipped several times, and a less adept rider would have tumbled off long before reaching the other bank. It was only a few paces before solid land that the horse finally went down, sending the rider head first against the rocks.</strong><br><br>Van immediately urged his steed into action with a nudge of his heals and guiding pressure from his thighs.&nbsp; The beast bolted.&nbsp; The woman, doubtless desperate, lurched as her horse attempted the ford.&nbsp; With such unpredictable currents it was a wonder the animal stayed upright.&nbsp; When he made the rocky-pass the hunter immediately dismounted and strung his bow.&nbsp; Practiced-ease made the seconds seem like hours as the wood flexed in his hand and eventually twanged like a string-quartet.&nbsp; She was outpacing him easily but Van knew he would never gain ground on a rocky-riverbed.&nbsp; When he knocked an arrow, the dull, blunt, flat side of a spherical metal ball tipped the end of the projectile; it was weighted perfectly and wouldn't cause any "permanent" damage.&nbsp; Her horse slipped.&nbsp; Woman and beast clung to eachother for dearest life.&nbsp; Desperation nearly flew through the air.&nbsp; It had cocked, twanged, and thrummed with potential-energy...but it had not been loosed.&nbsp; Both horse and rider went down in a tangled heap of flailing limbs, churning rocks, and agonizing defeat.<br><br>Shit.&nbsp; Again?&nbsp; He felt fond of the word.<br><br>Van took the ford in stride with a hurried step that still afforded him purchase.&nbsp; The last thing he wanted to do was go down right beside her.&nbsp; Wait!&nbsp; Could this be a ploy?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; For shame!&nbsp; He had seen her as plainly as daybreak amid a sky-full of ominous clouds.&nbsp; She had fallen truly.&nbsp; This woman was too tired, too desperate, and far too strong to bait him like that.&nbsp; After such a spill if she wasn't dead she'd surely be unconscious.&nbsp; Okay.&nbsp; Her bindings first.&nbsp; A bound corpse was still bound.&nbsp; He straddled her prone form and at once sharply inhaled.&nbsp; The injury probably looked worse than it was but verily, it couldn't look much worse.&nbsp; Her skull had split open and poured her lifeblood into this dingy little stream.&nbsp; The skin was matted with blood and she was face-down in the water.&nbsp; Shit.&nbsp; Again?&nbsp; Again.&nbsp; Things just weren't going well.&nbsp; The horse was actually in the way; it had turned an ankle and now floundered on the edge of the ford.&nbsp; Useless.&nbsp; He shook his head disapprovingly as he knelt and began to wedge his hands beneath her still body.&nbsp; The woman was soft and warm.&nbsp; Van!&nbsp; Keep your head together.&nbsp; You're kneeling in a puddle of her blood!&nbsp; Of course she's warm!&nbsp; Stop dicking-around!<br><br>He cleared the clouds that fogged his muddled head, hoisted her over his shoulder, and walked her the rest of the way to the embankment.&nbsp; Further up the hill was a little lean-to that actually looked cared for.&nbsp; The Grey Hills folk must keep it in decent condition for occasions like this.&nbsp; The hunter chirped once and urged his horse to ford the river at an easy pace.&nbsp; The animal did so without incident.&nbsp; Van's shoulder began to ooze and stick with the milky mixture of bloody rain.&nbsp; He had to get her to that lean-to and stave off the flow of blood.&nbsp; She'd expire without serious medical attention.&nbsp; The irony of the situation stung him during that ignominious walk of shame.&nbsp; Each step cemented in his mind how he was literally saving this woman's life so she could die elsewhere.&nbsp; The Old Wolf thought better of it.&nbsp; Perhaps it wasn't ironic at all and merely marked by coincidence.&nbsp; Maybe he'd ask her on the way back?&nbsp; That would be a conversation for the annals.<br><br>When he set the woman down he did his damnedest <em>not</em> to admire her.&nbsp; She was substantial, sturdy of limb, and well-formed.&nbsp; The aesthete in him arched an eyebrow.&nbsp; The woman before him was breathtaking; her skin was smooth and soft and touched by the sun.&nbsp; She was no stranger to a hard day's work and, perhaps, a long night's pain.&nbsp; She had an earthy appeal that sometimes defies our preconceived notions of beauty.&nbsp; Matted tresses hung far past her shoulders and clung to her face and cloak with sticky, bloody, wetness.&nbsp; In the morning sunlight he would see a long, flowing mane of blonds, golds, and some beiges.&nbsp; He paused for a moment to run his hand down the supple lineament and remove a few unruly strands from her cheek.&nbsp; Van rent the fabric of his own shirt in an impulsive but not altogether unselfish act and pressed it firmly against her bloody skull to stave the flow of blood.&nbsp; "My but she is a looker, eh?"&nbsp; Had he spoken for her benefit?&nbsp; With her eyes closed she looked like she was locked in a torrid dream -- in some kind of stasis -- her lips were slightly parted as if she were speaking in her sleep.&nbsp; The hunter let his eyes rove.<br><br>The curvaceous nourishment beneath her cloak was prominent and yet understated and almost hidden.&nbsp; In keeping with his profile of her he made the mental note that this one would be more likely stab him in the face than to seduce him and stab in the back.&nbsp; She was a fighter.&nbsp; Her stomach was flat and rigid as it rose and fell in time with her deep breaths.&nbsp; Hips that hugged her thighs flared just enough to be called wanton.&nbsp; They smoothly transitioned into a lissome set of long, athletic, leggy caresses -- stems of the wild-flower.<br><br>Van clucked for his horse and immediately set to work.&nbsp; You did not toy with magic.&nbsp; He grabbed a set of manacles and locked them around first her wrists then her ankles, and then together and pocketed the key over his breast.&nbsp; It was a surprisingly difficult task considering the unconscious nature of his captive.&nbsp; The Old Wolf took a moment to curse the gods beneath his breath.&nbsp; The gag was a simple thing.&nbsp; He balled up another torn piece of cloth, shoved it into her mouth (in so doing letting his fingers linger upon her lips for a heartspan), and roped it off with a few simple knots.<br><br>She wouldn't need to speak until they reached the city -- maybe not even then.&nbsp; Fortune had smiled upon him.<br><br>She would need to eat...drink at the very least.&nbsp; Shit.&nbsp; Perhaps it hadn't.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>25-03-2009, 14:31:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Consciousness returned slowly, together with excruciating pain. Something was pounding her skull flat with a sledgehammer? It seemed her head throbbed in unison with the pounding of the rain outside and her heartbeat. All together creating a massive beat threatening to crush her at any moment.<br><br>Malissa groaned softly, without even realising it. She tried to open her eyes; her eyelids fluttered, but remained closed. Then she tried to roll onto her side, immediately wishing she hadn't, as the world lurched so violently she honestly believed she would fall off the edge.<br><br>That little movement, though, was enough for the fact that she was chained and gagged to register in her mind. Her eyes flicked open in panic. Her vision was still blurred and everything swam, but she did notice she was not out in the open anymore, but in some kind of building, shivering in her wet clothes. She longed to scream in frustration.<br><br>Malissa blinked, trying to clear her eyes, then turned her head very carefully, looking for whoever had managed to get her. The man's figure was still blurry, but at least the two others were hazy enough for her to realise that she was just seeing triple. Just one, then. Blast. Couldn't the waters rise and drown them both right then?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>25-03-2009, 23:16:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He could see her beginning to stir but ignored it.&nbsp; The rain still poured in unrelenting buckets.&nbsp; His captive groaned and he spared her a glance.&nbsp; She cut a fine figure -- bound and gagged and groaning.&nbsp; Maybe she was a natural?&nbsp; Her doused rags clung to her the way whorehouse harlots hang off their would-be suitors; they hinted at much and yet, revealed so little.&nbsp; Maybe she was Istvan's girlfriend?&nbsp; The man probably couldn't take "no" for an answer.&nbsp; The Old Wolf snickered as he approached his charge and knelt beside her.&nbsp; He placed one hand on her forehead to check the wound and, satisfied, brushed her wet hair out of her eyes.<br><br>"Listen well little one," he announced in a strong voice that was neither loud nor distinctly soft but commanded her bewildered, fuzzy attention.&nbsp; He placed a calloused hand gently at the base of her head and turned it just enough so that she could see him.&nbsp; Her beautiful cerulean eyes were dazed with the light of far away stars.&nbsp; "Bedraggled and sodden to the bone.&nbsp; Under other circumstances I'd offer you a dry change, some hot tea, and even a comforting arm.&nbsp; Under <em>these</em> circumstances, well," he paused thoughtfully, "all I can offer you is the promise of bodily-harm should you attempt to escape.&nbsp; And if I have even an inkling that you're trying to bewitch me or cast spells on me or whathaveyou I'll deliver you to Istvan without the tongue you use to cast them.&nbsp; Nothing personal, sweetheart."&nbsp; Van frowned as the last words left his tongue.&nbsp; "I'll sling you over my saddle until you're well enough to ride.&nbsp; By then you'll have your own horse.&nbsp; Should you have any questions, feel free to produce a few hundred crowns and I'd be more than happy to answer them.&nbsp; Until then, I'm asking you nicely, please do not tempt me."<br><br>A grip of wrought iron held her firmly by the waist while an arm snaked beneath and around her.&nbsp; Laying on her side had been disorienting at first and now it was just inconvenient.&nbsp; His arms girded her and joined just beneath her breasts as he hoisted her bound form over one shoulder.&nbsp; From the lean-to he whistled to his horse and it came obediently.&nbsp; The hunter slung her, unceremoniously over the saddle and left her there while he began the meticulous process of anti-tracking and removing any traces of their presence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>26-03-2009, 14:19:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nobody she knew, thought Malissa at the sound of his voice. A Southerner, judging by the accent. And a bounty hunter to boot, by his talk of money. Something inside cringed in disgust. <em>What price human blood? How are such people any better than those they hunt?</em><br><br>He didn't know, of course, that she didn't need her tongue to work magic, only her mind. But she was drained again after that scrying, and that would take long to build up again for any substantial effort. Perhaps even long enough for her to be delivered back to the Magisterium... <em>No. If it comes to that, I'll work that final casting, and take the bastard with me. In a spray of blood, like he deserves.</em><br><br>The way he hauled her up <em>hurt</em>. She almost blacked out again as she was slung first over his shoulder and then over the saddle. But she retained enough consciousness to notice something that he hadn't, the way he went about erasing their tracks. The stream had virtually burst its banks, rolling on in the middle of a bog now. There was no sight of the ford anymore. They would be going nowhere, not anytime soon.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>28-03-2009, 15:55:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The gods had always exhibited such a cruel sense of humor when going about their mischief.&nbsp; After diligently wiping their traces from the earth the dawning of realization burst from his face like a sudden break in the ominous sky; it continued to pour from the heavens and there would be no hope of fording the stream at the same point.&nbsp; The purchase had all but disappeared and it would take them nearly a day out of their way to reach the King's Road.&nbsp; For all he knew that might flood as well if it didn't let up.&nbsp; Okay options:&nbsp; Travel the wrong side of the bank and increasingly nearer a foreign border, with foreign patrols, and foreign laws.&nbsp; Stay in the lean-to for as long as it took to stop raining.&nbsp; Attempt to cross the little raging river with two wounded animals.&nbsp; The choices were grim and his outlook turned bleak and as dark as the sky.&nbsp; Istvan's reach was only as long as the papacy.&nbsp; The Magisterium would invade an adjoining country the way a plague took fresh meat from new victims but the Royal Marriage hadn't transpired yet.&nbsp; He and his charge would still be foreigners in a foreign land.&nbsp; Staying here meant wasting time -- basically the same as the other options but probably the LEAST dangerous.&nbsp; If he attempted to cross the river now he'd definitely lose the beast and risk being whisked away by the current.&nbsp; If she was well-enough to run or, regrettably, died he would be taking a huge step backwards.&nbsp; For all he knew, that move might play right into the hands of another assassin.<br><br>"Alright, girl, there's been a change of plans," the Old Wolf barked with a sharp, swift smack on her rump.&nbsp; It was just too perfect an opportunity as he approached her -- slung over the saddle as she was -- like a saddlebag herself.&nbsp; His hand did not linger nor did it brook any lechery; it was a lighthearted, playful "thwap" and her handsome, heart-shaped bottom jiggled accordingly.&nbsp; "C'mon, let's get you up and into the shelter.&nbsp; It'll be the Styx we're crossing soon enough if we try to ford that river."&nbsp; Van encircled her with his arms and, once again, slung her over his shoulder gingerly as if she were an oddly-shaped piece of luggage.&nbsp; His arms were wrapped around her hearty thighs while using his shoulder as a fulcrum.&nbsp; This left two plump cheeks right beside his own and the curvy precipices of dangling breast-flesh resting against his back on the bumpy return to the lean-to.&nbsp; The hunter could help but smile -- at her plight, at his, at theirs now...it was funny the way things worked out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>30-03-2009, 11:44:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It wasn't much, she knew, but there was satisfaction in having his plans foiled, even if she had done nothing to that effect herself. She could live with the smack on her butt; even if it had meant to hurt, it was no match for her head at the moment.<br><br>When he put her down this time, on an abandoned pile of sacks that smelled of mould, she did roll onto her side, without too much wincing. Now that her vision had cleared, she studied him carefully. She had seen several of his likes - born fighters, peace didn't agree with them. When the wars were done and they found themselves out of work, some had taken to banditry, others left for more mercenary pastures... and a few, like this one, opted for headhunting.<br><br>He had been handsome - still was, in a way - and he didn't seem keen to be more brutal than necessary. Malissa's people understood honest brutality. It was a pity that neither of them was particularly likely to see the end of this. She hated being pushed towards doing what she had been falsely charged with, take another human life. When their eyes met, she was the first to look away.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>30-03-2009, 19:00:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Not one for conversation, eh?" the old wolf jibed as she turned away from his magnetic gaze.&nbsp; "More companions when you're alone -- so they say.&nbsp; Silence doesn't you suit you.&nbsp; You've graced me with neither sound nor syllable save an errant grunt.&nbsp; And to think a murmuring mouthful of gag was all I had to look forward to.&nbsp; You've got fight left in you.&nbsp; Don't think I haven't noticed."&nbsp; The Old Wolf dropped to his rump and curled his legs beneath him as he spoke at her.&nbsp; "The way you looked at me," the hunter shivered involuntarily, "you'd tear my face off and flee if given even half a chance.&nbsp; Or perhaps you'd ensorcel me with your witchery!&nbsp; You could just as easily ensorcel me with those thighs but you don't seem the type -- rabid and wild like a cornered badger -- pragmatism in desperation."&nbsp; He makes a big headline with his hands.&nbsp; "Heretic slays headhunter!&nbsp; At large in the Grey Hills!"<br><br>She'd be gritting her teeth if she were able.&nbsp; The woman flopped onto her side and jiggled accordingly.&nbsp; He hadn't meant to bait her and felt badly; instead of saying so he frowned, removed his large, heavy cloak and approached her.&nbsp; "To keep warm," he said bluntly and draped it over her form gently before pulling up some moldy sacks and sitting next to her.&nbsp; A headhunter after her and an assassin after...her?&nbsp; Him?&nbsp; "What got you into this predicament?" he said rhetorically though he could very well have been posing the question of himself.&nbsp; The rain might never stop and, if it did, would the live to see it?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>31-03-2009, 13:12:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was adding insult to injury. Malissa turned her gaze back on him when he sat next to her, the proximity adding a searing intensity to her expression. <em>If you want conversation, take that damned gag off me, you jackass! And if you don't, shut your own trap, already!</em><br><br>She felt herself blushing when he suggested she might try to seduce him in exchange for her freedom. The cheek of it! Even in prison, nobody had forced himself on her. She looked him up and down again, appraisingly this time. <em>In another life, perhaps...</em> The thought brought up a little clenching in the pit of her stomach.<br><br><em>What brought me to this predicament? You, for one.</em> The accusation was clear in her eyes, and not even the warmth of his cloak, that seeped soothingly through her bones, could remove that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>03-04-2009, 03:19:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Silence could suit him.&nbsp; It was just as well.&nbsp; He guessed her choice of words for him wasn't pretty.&nbsp; These Hillfolk could get pretty creative.&nbsp; Her eyes might as well have been daggers.&nbsp; The way she looked at him was at the same time both injured and accusatory -- inured -- as though it were <em>his</em> fault she'd gotten on the wrong side of the Magisterium.&nbsp; He knew one thing for sure:&nbsp; It might not have been through any fault of her own but sure as her blood was red it wasn't <em>his</em> fault.&nbsp; It was probably Magic.&nbsp; It might be easy to blame a force he couldn't understand and was unfamiliar with.&nbsp; The Magisterium would do the very same thing.&nbsp; Was he so similar?&nbsp; Was he so different?&nbsp; Was she?&nbsp; These questions plagued the hunter almost to the point of removing her gag...almost.&nbsp; Meanwhile, his captive lay next to him completely unaware of his thoughts; he was usually pretty good about keeping them off his face.&nbsp; <br><br>This vantage point suited him well.&nbsp; His face was screwed up in consternation and deep in thought while he ogled her heart-shaped rump.&nbsp; The wet fabric clung to it enticingly and had ridden upwards slightly as she wiggled into her current position.&nbsp; The Old Wolf felt a familiar stirring in his loins and felt a pang of longing in his breast.&nbsp; Was that longing or was it regret?&nbsp; The corners of his mouth creased around a chiseled grin that curled his lips lecherously.&nbsp; Van began to salivate.&nbsp; A life of toil and hardship had been very generous to the witch's figure.&nbsp; The people out came from hardy stock.&nbsp; They grew up under the yoke of the plow and the burden of a fiefdom.&nbsp; The king's taxes and tariffs made life hard for the yoeman and his family.&nbsp; It was a shame her magic couldn't stop the rain or plow the field or raise the children...or undo her binds.&nbsp; What good could it possibly be with such limitations?&nbsp; Magic was a very curious thing indeed.<br><br>Ssssssssssssssssssssssss...<br><br>THUD!<br><br>Shit.&nbsp; Van's ruminations were cut invariably short as a crossbow bold lodged itself in the mouldy sack of grain in the crevice between their bodies.&nbsp; At once two conclusions erupted in his head as his body was already in motion, and hurling itself out and over the woman -- into the line of fire.&nbsp; First, that shot was ambiguously aimed to have been intended for either of them.&nbsp; Second, such a miss could only be intentional.&nbsp; Even the slightest gust of wind placing that bold into one chest or another.&nbsp; The gods' own luck!&nbsp; "Keep your head down and tuck your chin to your chest!" he barked at her as he encircled her with his nearest arm and rolled backward into deeper cover. TUMBLE UP.&nbsp; TUMBLE DOWN.&nbsp; TUMBLE. TUMBLE.&nbsp; The world went ass over tea-kettle right before their clenched eyes when they went rolling further into the lean-to and over the moldy, sodden sacks.&nbsp; Gravity kept their bodies pressed tightly together with centrifugal force until their combined inertia stopped abruptly.&nbsp; Sturdy oak pushed back when they tumbled to a halt and she was on top.&nbsp; <br><br>The witch looked down at him, met his gaze evenly for the first time, and saw something...she couldn't quite put her finger on it...but something.&nbsp; Crushed between them were two pillowy globes and a look of outrage and incredulity -- of muffled outcry -- that turned into annoyance as she followed his gaze.&nbsp; It flashed across her face as he stirred and heaved outwards against the weight on his chest -- her.&nbsp; Like a reverse push-up he bench-pressed her easily and alleviated his plight by casting her aside.&nbsp; When he finally stood, wary, and hesitantly at first he could see one of their assailants.<br><br>The onrushing assassin, clad in the swirling sheathes of darkness, just like the first he'd met only a day ago, was as nimble as a butterfly.&nbsp; His movements were those of a professional, trained killer and Van had less than five seconds before he was upon them.&nbsp; Was there another?&nbsp; He doubted it.&nbsp; A man like this would only work alone.&nbsp; Muffled murmuring that was riddled with desperation broke his train of thought but it wasn't until she butted her bound limbs against him, practically begging for the manacles to be removed -- for a chance to defend herself -- that he spared her a glance.&nbsp; The Old Wolf looked down at her for just a moment and instantly recognized the mistake.&nbsp; A moment was all it took.<br><br>A boquet of agony bloomed on his exposed flank and set the entire right side of his torso ablaze with an incendiary explosion.&nbsp; "Aaaah!" the Old Wolf yelped and drew Hector even as he knelt for cover once again.&nbsp; Something was protruding from his ribs.&nbsp; He dared not remove it.&nbsp; Fuck!&nbsp; The witch is throwing you off your game, Damien!&nbsp; Hector circled before him with a heavy-handed, even-keeled defense while he reached, unsuccessfully for the key to the woman's cuffs.&nbsp; A shadow.&nbsp; Fuck the key!&nbsp; The hunter twisted, held the blade that pierced him with one steady hand as he rolled to the side and out of the mouldy barricade.&nbsp; Whoosh!&nbsp; SLAM!&nbsp; A wicked looking sword sliced right through the sacks where he'd been only a moment before.&nbsp; The spectre was visible now and advanced on the crouched, wounded hunter the steadily and confidently.<br><br>He searched...frantically now...fishing about in his back pocket...making it look like he was grabbing at the throwing knife that protruded proudly from his side.&nbsp; With every twist a spindly tendril of pain shot up his arm and blurred his vision.&nbsp; Almost...got it...<br><br>It was a very funny angle.&nbsp; Hector rose to meet the incoming blade and clanged against the larger sword with a heavy thrumming that reverbrated through the lean-to; the assassin paused.&nbsp; Van's blades usually had that effect.&nbsp; They gave their attackers pause and forced re-evaluation.&nbsp; This usually bought the hunter time to really set them up.&nbsp; Rarely, had it ever bought him time to panic.&nbsp; He was losing a lot of blood despite the blade waggling, stuck, in his side.&nbsp; His vision began to blur and dot with large black spots.&nbsp; SSHhhhhhnikt!&nbsp; That wicked-looking, curved sword flashed overhead and came down right on his crown.&nbsp; EUREKA!&nbsp; Blood-caked fingers glommed onto the tiny key.&nbsp; H u z z a h ! !&nbsp; &nbsp;The Old Wolf lurched forward and sent tiny, metallic salvation hurtling toward the witch with brutal accuracy.&nbsp; As Damient fell Hector rose with opposite momentum, clanged against the hilt, and knocked the foreign weapon off its mark.&nbsp; Instead of cracking his skull and slicing him in twain it sailed past his ear and bit deeply into his collar bone and crushed his clavicle.&nbsp; "Grrrrrr!!!"&nbsp; he howled and collapsed face-first into the muddy dirt floor.&nbsp; Agony burst inside his brain and sent a last ditch effort down his spine.&nbsp; Unable to even lift his head, he could hear the whistling of death as it raced toward the exposed nape of his neck.&nbsp; Ajax struck out blindly and haphazzardly until it sunk deeply into meat and tendon...slicing as it slashed and sundering the flesh to ribbons.<br><br>The world went black.&nbsp; Damien Vanderbilt would not see the light of day.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>04-04-2009, 13:04:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The fight had lasted only a few moments, but those might well have stretched on into an eternity. Despite the stabbing of pain through Malissa's head at having to be moved again, so suddenly and roughly, she not only managed to stay conscious the whole while, but also to watch and notice everything, with a curious sense of double vision that her Talent very rarely granted her, and certainly not when she was as depleted as she was at the time. There were much greater forces at work here than the three of them.<br><br>Despite the clarity of her battered mind, her hands were trembling and it took a good moment after the two fighters had collapsed for her to manage to unlock her manacles. Then she swayed, unsure of what to do. She was free, and both her assailants were as good as dead. She could walk out that moment, ride away and be over the border in a few hours, with nobody after her.<br><br>Except she couldn't.<br><br>The assassin was clearly dead; that last slash had gone through the carotid and he had bled himself out into a pool that the hard packed earth was absorbing slowly. But the hunter was still alive, and despite the knife in his flank and the broken collarbone, he could still make it. She had no clue how she knew that, or why she should care. Unless it was wickedness on her part. <em>Let him live to go back without me - see how kindly his employers will take to that.</em><br><br>She went about ripping ribbons off the assassin's clothes to make tourniquets, packed the flank wound well and set the broken bone in place. There was not much she could do about comfort, so the pile of sacks against the wall would have to do. Finally, she wiped the blood off the knife and belted it on her hip. She would wait for him to wake up, so he could watch her go away, unable to do a thing about that.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>08-04-2009, 03:07:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The agony and irony struck him with the force of an assassin's blow...right in the kidney.&nbsp; His first conscious, somewhat wakeful thought was the weight of the world on his shoulders and the weight of a blood-debt on his heart; he was alive and it was <em>her</em> fault.&nbsp; He utilized this time to really think through the events he remembered and the consequences of his actions.&nbsp; If she had left him then she had made sure he lived to tell the tale first.&nbsp; If she was still here -- well then he might still have a chance.&nbsp; Either way, she had bested a trained assassin; she had bested one that had bested him.&nbsp; Shit.<br><br>Mentally, he took inventory of his person and his heart collapsed when he finally localized the two sources of pain.&nbsp; The knife wound was nothing he couldn't shrug off with a little exercise and some good old endorphins.&nbsp; The broken collar-bone would see to it that he return empty-handed.&nbsp; How could he fight like this?&nbsp; Well, he really couldn't.&nbsp; He couldn't even <em>ride</em> like this.&nbsp; That is, if there was a horse left to ride.&nbsp; The witch was crafty.&nbsp; She'd know well-enough to hobble a beast she left behind or, better yet, take it with her and switch off.&nbsp; She'd be back to the Grey Hills by now...if that was where she were headed.&nbsp; No, she'd know that wasn't safe.&nbsp; Even hidden she'd feel guilty for endangering those friends and family who harbored her.&nbsp; No.&nbsp; She'd make for the border.&nbsp; Ahhh...maybe not.&nbsp; Should she be caught by a patrol or identified she'd be returned in a heartbeat.&nbsp; Surely the king of a neighboring country was aware of the affairs of his daughter's betrothed.&nbsp; Nothing would jeapordize this marriage.&nbsp; The Magisterium had already resorted to their backup plan.&nbsp; Whoever else was involved was clearly more concerned with erasing <em>both</em> of their respective existences -- not just bringing a known heretic to justice.<br><br>Gods!<br><br>Hesitantly he opened his left eye just a crack...just enough to see her sitting there, across from him, smirking like she had just bested him in a game of Tommy 'n Polka.&nbsp; He shut his eye quickly and lay still.&nbsp; <br><br>She cleared her throat.&nbsp; Shit.&nbsp; The charade was up.&nbsp; He opened both of his eyes and met her smug gaze -- clearly impressed with herself.&nbsp; "Don't tell me you didn't know how this would play out.&nbsp; You've got your freedom.&nbsp; Why help me?&nbsp; Why do so and loiter until I wake?&nbsp; It incenses me to know that you <em>didn't</em> leave so that I could watch...helpless...and <em>owe</em> you my life.&nbsp; You must know as well as any that your options are limited.&nbsp; It isn't just the Magisterium you run from anymore."&nbsp; He shifted slightly to try and find a more comfortable position when he yelped involuntarily and the excruciating pain below his neck.&nbsp; "Gaaah!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>08-04-2009, 12:41:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				'You talk too much for your own good,' said Malissa evenly. The almost sing-song lilt that was peculiar to this part of the country was very noticeable in her voice. He might believe he was weaving a spell around him already, but she didn't care. His own accent, although faded, still identified him as an Easterner. Much wilder places, there, than her own hilly meadows.<br><br>'Whether you like it or not, hunter,' she continued, 'there's a life between us - your own. The Magisterium accused me of heresy, sorcery and multiple murders. I'm not going to forsake the Triad because some other human tells me to, and the Talent is a gift, not something to be denied. But I have never murdered anyone, and I'm not going to start with you. You'll live to tell the tale; and you will run from the Magisterium, much as I will. To each one their fate, hunter; you've had your hand in mine, and I'm returning the favour.'<br><br>She could have been mocking him, if her tone had not been so serious. She did look him up and down like he had, though. Her hair, although still tangled and bloodstained, was coiled tightly at the nape of her neck now, underlining its long lines. She picked up his blades, which were wiped clean as well. Definitely not a stranger to fighting herself, then.<br><br>'I'm not going to take those away; it looks like you're going to need them. Whether that will be when you can use them is another story.' Callous, that. She didn't want him dead; but she wasn't going to endanger herself for his sake either. Including turning her back to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>08-04-2009, 16:46:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>'You talk too much for your own good,' said Malissa evenly.</strong>&nbsp; Her voice was whimsical and airy; it brought a slight smile to his face despite the words it was conveying.<br><br>"You're probably right.&nbsp; The conversation is usually one-sided," he said the last with a nod at the discarded gag that littered the packed-dirt floor.<br><br><strong>'Whether you like it or not, hunter,' she continued, 'there's a life between us - your own.</strong>&nbsp; Van grated upon hearing this.&nbsp; His jaw clenched as he suppressed an involuntary growl.&nbsp; It made hearing the rest of what she said more difficult -- moreso than his roving eyes.&nbsp; She cut quite the proud figure, handsome, independent, and in-charge.&nbsp; The witch stood before him, above him, forcing his neck to crane, and held Hector and Ajax with some familiarity.&nbsp; The hunter's unshaven jaw cracked into a wolfish grin that touched the corners of his eyes.<br><br>"...returning the favor, eh?" he echoed her last words around a creased mouth that couldn't help but smile.&nbsp; "Istvan has his hand in many pots; his reach is longer-even than the arm of the king.&nbsp; We'll run out of places to run to."&nbsp; A thought occurred to him then and he voiced it.&nbsp; "What makes you so certain that my lot is cast and our lots are cast together?"&nbsp; Would it prove to be rhetorical?&nbsp; Probably.&nbsp; She was right.&nbsp; The Magisterium would never exhaust its coffers and there wouldn't be a safe place in the known world.&nbsp; Was he prepared for the life of a recluse?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; Without question.&nbsp; With her?&nbsp; Eh?&nbsp; Maybe.&nbsp; Could they head East back to the Wilds?&nbsp; It had been thirty years since he'd left.&nbsp; She was speaking to him.<br><br><strong>'I'm not going to take those away; it looks like you're going to need them. Whether that will be when you can use them is another story.'</strong><br><br>"Easy now.&nbsp; Ajax will cut you quicker 'n you can bat those pretty little lashes.&nbsp; He's as likely to taste <em>your</em> blood as he is to drink that of your assailant."<br><br>She handed him his blades with a cool, calm, and collected exterior.&nbsp; What was her story then?&nbsp; He wondered.&nbsp; His clavicle was still settling while the bone began the arduous process of calcification and it didn't take kindly to his sudden adjustment when the blades disappeared in their respective hiding places.<br><br>"They'll come for us.&nbsp; If I've been out for longer than a few hours then we should already be moving.&nbsp; I won't be able to fight until this wound heals so, uh, maybe you could use your magic for a little healing instead of maiming."&nbsp; If she wanted to be callous so could he...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>09-04-2009, 22:03:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes narrowed. She expected him to chafe at the situation he had found himself in, of course. And it didn't feel particularly well to her either.<br><br>'Once more, you are assuming too much, hunter,' she said, her tone shorter now. 'The Magisterium may keep searching, and I will keep eluding them. If you think the right thing to do is stop and turn myself in, why then, you might do the same thing yourself. I don't envy you having to go back and tell them I escaped you...' She smirked, indulging in a moment of pause from her own running. 'Your lot was cast the moment you went down, hunter. Whether your existence lies with me, I don't know - but your fate is definitely linked to mine now. Much as you might resent it.'<br><br>She reached for one of the saddlebags, which was close to hand, and brought out two handfuls of trail mix, offering him one. 'You might as well save your strength and have more of it when you need it. The Talent doesn't create what isn't there to start with.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>10-04-2009, 00:37:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Go back empty-handed?" he echoed but the words sounded hollow even to himself.&nbsp; "We both know that's not an option."&nbsp; Okay, so he'd stay with her for now.&nbsp; If need be they had the perfect alibi:&nbsp; Tie her up and they'd pass.&nbsp; It wasn't likely that the decision to hunt them both was as public as a frog.&nbsp; For all he knew, Istvan didn't even <em>know</em> about the attempts on their life...well his.&nbsp; Wait.&nbsp; The first assassin had <em>definitely</em> come after him; in fact it had known exactly where Damien lay hidden in wait for the witch.&nbsp; He had assumed it was intent on her.&nbsp; Why?&nbsp; What would the assassin want with him?&nbsp; Was someone trying to save <strong>her</strong>?&nbsp; No, the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control but how could the witch have some mysterious benefactor with that kind of money...and not even know it.<br><br>The thoughts screwed up his face with squinty-eyed introspection until a hand that offered trail-mix floated disembodied before his face.&nbsp; His eyes focused and narrowed at the same time as they waltzed their way lazily up that limb.&nbsp; His cerulean saucers finally settled on her face -- warm, inviting.&nbsp; A peace-offering.&nbsp; Okay.<br><br>"Thank you," his face cracked like the craggy precipice it was now three-days unshaven and shadowed.&nbsp; He shoved the assorted mix of dried fruits and nuts down his gullet and chomped hungrily.&nbsp; "Mmm...s'good," he proposed around a mouthful.&nbsp; After a hearty gulp that sent the dried-goodness into his pit he arched an eyebrow and tried to ask politely, "So, what's your name?&nbsp; Calling you 'witch' is going to get old...for both of us.&nbsp; And what can your Talent do?&nbsp; Is it an ability we can rely on?&nbsp; We must know all the tools at our disposal if we're to survive this.&nbsp; If you've any ideas please don't hold back on my account."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>10-04-2009, 13:04:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				'I'm Malissa bren Naella.' No hesitation there. There was pride in her tone, not the pride of one who carries an illustrious name, but that of one who has done their name justice that far. Worthy daughter of her mother. Perhaps the hill people had the right idea.<br><br>She sat cross-legged opposite him, sizing him up as unashamedly as he was. He was more heavily armed than herself now, but his injuries still made him no match for her. A part of her mind was nagging her about not being on her way already. Another welcomed the break, reminding her that the rain was continuing, as unabated as ever.<br><br>'I can hardly believe that the cardinal that sent you after me - Istvan, wasn't he? - didn't tell you my name, together with the rest of his information about where to trace me. Then again, to him I was an object, and objects don't have names.' Her tone was overflowing with distaste. 'And I can hardly start discussing the Talent with someone I still can only call "hunter".' She fixed him with blue-grey eyes way too old for her years; why, up close, she couldn't have been more than twenty herself. 'So, do you have a decent name at all?'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>24-04-2009, 03:17:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Damien.&nbsp; Damien Vanderbilt.&nbsp; Anyone who needs me calls me 'hunter.'&nbsp; Anyone who knows me calls me 'Van.'&nbsp; Decent enough name for you, Naella?"&nbsp; It had become customary to refer to someone by his or her last name as a show of familiarity.&nbsp; He didn't know why or how but it struck him oddly as her surname rolled off his tongue.&nbsp; "Wait," he paused, "that's your mother's name isn't it?"&nbsp; <br><br>"And yes, while the cardinal objectified you to me so too did he <em>identify</em> you to me; that pretty little mug o' yours makes for a delightful death-mask."&nbsp; He shifted his weight slightly and winced.&nbsp; "Sssssssss," went the sharp inhalation of breath.&nbsp; Ajax itched against his wrist in its sheath as that very same hand emptied more of her mix into his mouth.<br><br>"This really is good," he paused only to keep from choking on a gullet-full.&nbsp; "Lightweight, tasty, fills your stomach and sticks to ya.&nbsp; Where'd you learn to cook anyway?&nbsp; I doubt we have time for a royal banquet but I'll need my sustenance and some rest to stay on the road."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>25-04-2009, 00:37:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				'Decent is as decent does,' said Malissa evenly, then eyed him curiously again. 'I don't need you, and I don't know you well enough...' Her tone and expression weren't clear on whether she would want to. '...So I'm going to stick with Damien. As long as you answer to it.' The peculiar local cadence made his plain name sound almost exotic.<br><br>At the mention of the death mask, her lips curled into a grimace of disgust. 'Vile people do vile things. They had to restrain me while they took the cast. Their Guardian will do nothing to shield them from the wrath of the Triad when their time comes.' Anyone else uttering such words would sound like a fanatic street preacher. She just sounded sinisterly in contact with the powers she served.<br><br>The comment on the trail mix, though, managed to soften her a little. 'It's a poor country out here, Damien. We have to make the little we have to eat palatable and durable, for long days in the wilderness. It will help you heal faster.' She didn't say how exactly she had imbued it. 'Rest will allow it to do its work more easily. So you can sleep, while the rain lasts. If you trust to do so with me around.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>25-04-2009, 06:18:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Trust is fragile -- easily broken and terribly difficult to mend.&nbsp; Have you earned my trust?&nbsp; Hard to say.&nbsp; Do I have much choice?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; I'll rest as well as I am able.&nbsp; 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer' they say.&nbsp; My blades are evidence-enough of that."&nbsp; Van's voice sounded hollow and as frail as he felt.&nbsp; He needed the rest badly and felt his lids growing heavy.&nbsp; His wounds were agitated; they wanted to mend but needed good, old-fashioned time.&nbsp; The damp air was cool and his sodden clothes clung to his propped but huddled form.<br><br>"Don't suppose you'd part with a bit o' warmth, eh?" It sounded the sniveling whimper to his callous ear and ellicited an inward cringe.&nbsp; He closed his eyes wearily...but also not to see her reaction.&nbsp; Perhaps.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>27-04-2009, 11:02:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Malissa watched him for a long moment with a tinge of pity she was careful not to let show on her face. Not that he would see it with his eyes closed anyway. One part of her mind reminded her that, an hour earlier, this man was perfectly willing to hand her over to torture and death in exchange for gold. Another reasoned that kicking him while he was down, figuratively speaking, was not the way to go. Perhaps the weather would break while he was asleep, so she could go away and not have to deal with his case any longer...<br><br>His mention of warmth made her shiver herself in her still damp clothes. She wished she could light a fire, but she doubted it would burn in the pervasive humidity. She couldn't even strip and rub herself down. So she might as well try to coax some warmth out of what they did have. She tucked the cloak around him; it was not completely weatherproof, but it was better than nothing. Then she curled up on the sacks by his wounded side, her back bracing him, holding both injuries as immobile as possible. There was not much more warmth, but it was enough for her own mind to drift into a doze, however light and uneasy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>30-04-2009, 18:30:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A healing warmth pressed up against his injured side as he drifted in that limbo-like purgatory between wakefulness and dreaming.&nbsp; Initially he had tossed it up to the loss of blood -- a painful reminder that he wouldn't heal quickly without both nourishment and rest.&nbsp; Somewhere in his dazed semi-consciousness he became aware of her body and the cloak that was tucked tightly about him and the sacks they rested on.&nbsp; The feel of contact and the comfort it brought drew him like flame to a moth.&nbsp; With his eyes closed, his breathing measured and even, and the poultice cushioning his wounds he was free to explore the near-tangible mixture of sensations that tickled his perception.<br><br>Some part of her body was nestled up against his; it was both firm and forgiving at the same time -- bracing his injuries.&nbsp; The burgeoning warmth they generated along that contact-line soothed the cacophany of pain with its languid lullaby.&nbsp; The air was cold and damp and caged them in sheen of moist-chill.&nbsp; He wasn't shivering but his nose was a little runny.<br><br>It might be safe to let his guard down and truly rest.&nbsp; There were no guarantees in this line of work...or this life.&nbsp; Van shifted a bit a turned toward her curled-up form just before drifting into a murky sea of unconscious indecision.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>04-05-2009, 00:07:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Malissa didn't intend to sleep. She wanted to rest, soothe her throbbing head, and listen for the abating of the rain, that would signal she would be able to take to the road again. She didn't want to be responsible for that man, who, had the Triad not intervened, would be on his way to delivering her to her death without a qualm.<br><br>Even weakened and wounded as he was, her back against hers felt solid, and there was warmth on that end as well, despite the layers of sodden cloth between them. The sensation gradually grew intrusive enough that Malissa had to scrunch her eyes tightly closed and reach for the scrying crystal that was hanging again on its chain between her breasts. She knew she didn't have the strength to use it, but just the knowledge that it was there soothed her. She had not been forsaken.<br><br>She didn't even realise when she drifted into real sleep, lulled by the falling rain, nor when she turned around, without waking up, ending up almost draped over the hunter's back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>04-05-2009, 05:21:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The familiar weight of warmth cloaked him with comfort and delivered restful sleep; it was a weight that at some point had covered most of his back.&nbsp; His side was achy and throbbed at him from the outskirts of unconsciousness -- tugging him tangibly to half-roll and shift onto his back.&nbsp; A long, muscular arm snaked around and rested comfortably upon its nearest outcropping.&nbsp; The adjustment, however slight, stirred his cloak of warmth.&nbsp; It now rested solidly upon his chest while hot breath tickled his neck.&nbsp; The hurt hunter was only dimly aware of any of this before the dream took him again.<br><br>******************************************************************************************************<br><br>He knew not how much time had passed but decided to gauge it by the amount of pain...or dearth thereof...in his side.&nbsp; The all-too familiar throbbing had receded a bit and dulled.&nbsp; Perhaps it hadn't?&nbsp; Had his senses dulled?&nbsp; No.&nbsp; He was aware.<br><br>The hunter was aware of a few things concurrently despite his foggy brain processing each in turn.&nbsp; There was a distinctly feminine form silhouetting his own and nestled within the crook of his outstretched arm.&nbsp; His fingers had found purchase on a soft, smooth, and deliciously pliant piece of flesh; his addled brain had yet to determine where.&nbsp; His eyes were closed tightly in defense of a peeking ray of sunlight.&nbsp; The whiff of nature's natural perfume tickled his nose.&nbsp; The scent was clean and sweet and...he couldn't quite put his finger on it.&nbsp; His mouth was slightly dry.&nbsp; He was hard.<br><br>He was hard?<br><br>Van cracked an eyelid and was immediately punished by the searing light of a blinding beam.&nbsp; Gods!&nbsp; How long had he slept?&nbsp; When it was safe he cracked the eyelid again and instantly regretted it.&nbsp; His former quarry -- now savior -- had sidled up to him and draped herself bodily over his supine form.&nbsp; In fact, a long, sinewy leg actually rested atop his and her knee had inadvertantly aroused him.&nbsp; The heavens smiled while they cast their daggers, didn't they?&nbsp; Was the girl sane?&nbsp; Drunk?&nbsp; Hmm...he didn't know but he had nothing to lose.&nbsp; Well, almost nothing.<br><br>Van leaned in, closed his eyes, and let his lips press lightly against hers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>05-05-2009, 11:54:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had overestimated her own strength. After a moon of hardships, three weeks in the dungeons of the Magisterium and another on the run, she knew she had been running on empty; just not how empty she was. Spending her Talent on that last healing robbed her of the last of her ability to sense when it was time to go. The weather had broken, the sun had peeked out, although there were still clouds threatening to cover it, and closing into an early nightfall, and she was still fast asleep instead of over the pass.<br><br>She dreamed of warmth and safety, things that were free for all, not realising how much of those dreams sprung out of the strange man's solid presence by her side and the warmth of contact that had almost dried their clothes. She didn't even wake when his arm snaked around her neck and his hand came to rest on her side, just off the swell of her breast.<br><br>But when his lips covered hers, she found herself suddenly wide awake, if disoriented, gasping and tensing all over, ready to flee.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>05-05-2009, 18:39:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Soft and sweet and full, like the petals of a rose, they parted and pressed back -- if only momentarily -- before tensing.&nbsp; Van opened his eyes to see hers, not 3 inches away, wide-eyed and disoriented.&nbsp; She was in the midst of the "fight or flight" response and, no doubt, adrenaline was beginning to pump through her veins.&nbsp; His lips cracked into a smile as he closed his eyes again, pulled her closely to him, and kissed her with fierce passion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>06-05-2009, 12:19:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had seen her dismay, she was sure. If he let go, she would flee, without even looking back. If he tried to force her, she'd fight him like a rabid she-wolf. He'd have to break her neck first...<br><br>Instead, he pulled her into his arms, into a real embrace, and kissed her again, with none of the sleep-addled randomness of a few moments before. This was deliberate. This said 'I want'. This felt... like it should.<br><br>Malissa's lips parted again under his. One arm was trapped under his and couldn't do more than just lie along his waist, but the other, the free one, went around his neck the next moment, and her fingers tangled into his hair as she returned the kiss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>06-05-2009, 15:35:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the tension in her spine eased like an unwound coil of spring-steel the breath he'd been "mentally" holding finally released.&nbsp; She reciprocated with fervor born of desire -- kisses both passionate and desperate at once.&nbsp; Her lips were pouty and petulant and inviting; they begged him to stop and dared him to continue in the same breath.&nbsp; Van felt the heat of her heaving breast against his own when her arm curled about his neck and pulled him into her.&nbsp; She was delicious.<br><br>His touseled hair was still damp and unkempt like a lush jungle for her fingers to frolic in.&nbsp; A few stray locks lay matted against his forehead and hung, like vines, between their closed eyes.&nbsp; The hunter grew adventurous as the need swelled within his chest and...within the burgeoning bulge at his groin.&nbsp; Van let himself be distracted...<br><br>He traced the edges of her lineament with each smoldering kiss until her neck bared before his wanton, waiting mouth.&nbsp; From nape to the lobe of her ear he ravished her with growing desire -- savoring each tantalizing inch of her exposed flesh like the "vampire" bogey-men whose tales were meant to tease young-women.&nbsp; The skin beneath his lips was taunt with slender muscle -- elegant; he lashed it with his tongue and lavished it with his lips.&nbsp; The woman felt the occasional nip of needy, gnashing teeth scrape over her neck as it dimpled with gooseflesh.&nbsp; She rewarded him with an escaped moan, husky with pleasure, that served only to incited him further.<br><br>"Mmm..." the hunter mumbled into her.&nbsp; Her pinned arm was inadvertantly released when he repositioned his own beneath the curvy cheeks of her rump.&nbsp; With the aid of his other arm he grabbed two delectable handfulls of spongy flesh and scooped her up into his lap.&nbsp; The leg that had lain nestled against the barely contained bulge in his leathers went up and over the other side -- mounting him -- like a vixen in the saddle.&nbsp; The pressure of gravity and the heat of her sex brought agonizing pleasure to new heights.<br><br>Damien lay back, recumbent against the stack of sacks behind him, into half-sitting posture.&nbsp; With Malissa slightly above him, he opened his cerulean eyes and gazed deeply into hers while his hands cradled her ass and his fingers dimpled the young, lissome flesh.&nbsp; Somewhere before him, beneath a mess of motley fabric, dangled two pendulous orbs that had pressed so hotly into his chest before.<br><br>He looked up at her with a crooked, wolfish grin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>07-05-2009, 14:11:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If his lips on hers had made Malissa shiver, when they moved down her throat she could hardly keep from convulsing. She was painfully aware of every tiny muscle under the fine skin twitching in delight at the attention, of her nipples stiffening as his embrace crushed her breasts against his chest, of the growing heat between her legs.<br><br>People of the Talent were looked at warily by others, with a mix of respect and mistrust. Nobody had come this close to Malissa, nobody but this stranger, who must have heard the worst possible version of what she could do, and still was bold enough to reach out for her, with more than the vested interest of the headhunter.<br><br>And then she found herself straddling him, looking down into his eyes, that sparkled with mischief - and clear need.<br><br>She was barely aware that her shirt was loosened, revealing the strip of creamy skin between the twin swellings of her breasts. The sensation of his arousal pulsing against hers, their clothes doing little to mask it, made her womb clench with anticipation and brought out another little whimper.<br><br>Without thinking any more, Malissa leaned in, some golden curls brushing against the sides of their faces, and sealed Van's lips with her own, while her hands moved to undo his shirt.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>08-05-2009, 01:51:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her hands worked adroitly -- to be certain -- but it didn't take a surgeon's precision to undo the laces of his shirt.&nbsp; While she fumbled at the front of his chest he pulled away from her lips and gave her better vantage; he rather enjoyed the sway of her blouse as it attempted, in vain, to restrain her bosom.&nbsp; Van's hands were anxious, poised, and waiting to succor her breasts from their binds.<br><br>The laces were undone.<br><br>As if magically, he shrugged once, twice...shirked the shirt with nonchalance...and found himself relishing the cool air upon his bared, scarred chest.&nbsp; A lifetime of battle and adventure opened before her eyes like an old, leatherbound tome.&nbsp; His pecs flexed self-consciously while her eyes traced every washboard-rigid hill and dale.&nbsp; The young woman studied him intently, her gaze both quizzical and serene, while her nails lingered over long-healed wounds like fingerprints on his heart.&nbsp; It was an odd moment of thoughtful repose that forced him, if only for a moment, to consider something other than his lust...until she forced her hot sex downward with emphasis.&nbsp; The pressure of pleasure coaxed even more lifeblood into his iron-infused cock thrumming neatly beneath the surface of his pants.<br><br>A stray breast bounced playfully against his chin and stirred him.&nbsp; The vixen in his lap had begun undulated her hips and rocking back and forth.&nbsp; She, too, could feel the urgency in the bulge beneath her.&nbsp; On the upswing, she rocked near-enough, to his mouth to tease the hunter into action.&nbsp; His strong hands shot out, gripped her firmly by the waist, and worked their ways ponderously upward along her sides.&nbsp; She was so warm to the touch, the cool air buffeted serendipitously off her eliciting goosbumps from her soft, supple skin.&nbsp; His action revealed each tantalizing inch with inevitability.&nbsp; When the loose fabric hung on prominent prurience and pronounced pulchritude -- her sumptuous twins -- Damien lent his gentle helping-hand.&nbsp; In a moment the buxom swells blossomed before his eyes as her arms raised for convenience.&nbsp; Malissa's back arched as the shirt came up and over her head -- but not before the hunter locked his lips with hers and resumed the torturous tasting that wended it's way back down her neck and settled upon her breasts.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>11-05-2009, 16:11:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sight of the scars over his chest made Malissa gasp softly, her hands moving reflexively to trace over the network that betrayed the routes he had taken. It didn't even cross her mind that they might have been souvenirs by people like herself, people who had struggled to escape him, and had failed, since he was here, alive.<br><br>Viscerally, she was glad that he was where he was. And she didn't want to mark him, except with kisses. She hadn't even realised her hips had started to grind against his, and how close she was leaning...<br><br>The impatience that made him yank her shirt off over her head startled her, but she had barely time to toss back her hair, the tresses like whips over the arms that were tightening around her, and then his lips were all over her again, teasing, coaxing, demanding.<br><br>When his mouth closed over one painfully stiff nipple, Malissa convulsed. The next moment, with a whimper curving into almost a growl, she locked her knees at his sides and rolled over, heedless of his recent injuries, bringing him on top of her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>19-05-2009, 05:03:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Time was a relative thing; for an eternity he lavished her with kisses, cradled her in his arms, and even suckled her tantalizing little nipple.&nbsp; Then, in a heartbeat, she clung to him in a roll that used her own body as leverage and had him returning upright -- atop her.&nbsp; The Grey Hills girl locked her knees to his sides, holding fast to his waist, and leaving her invitation open.&nbsp; The adrenaline that flooded his veins completely blotted out whatever residual pain hadn't alleviated with the healing.&nbsp; Van widened his stance and shifted his weight so that her stems were forced to encircle him and rest upon his lumbar.&nbsp; Malissa had whimpered before but her voice had taken on the surprisingly husky timbre of a woman in heat.&nbsp; The hunter felt the pressure of her heels digging into his back...into his ass...pulling him, like a venus-trap, into her grasp.<br><br>The Old Wolf bowed his head and arched his back over her so he could sufficiently kiss her waiting lips and grind his raging desire against her.&nbsp; Her hips raised up to meet the intrusion as her legs spidered further up his back.&nbsp; Lips, parted, hot with desire -- they were wet-velvet.&nbsp; Smooth, silky, soft and urging at once.&nbsp; Her tongue was liquid-fire, playfully exploring, teasing, and torrid.&nbsp; At this angle, he could actually feel the divot where flesh meets bone beneath her taut pants.&nbsp; Van eased the burgeoning need that buffeted his loins and burned his lips by grating his cock painstakingly, painfully slow over that indentation.&nbsp; The young-woman beneath him was practically panting with desire and he could smell the tangible effects of their tease emanating from betwixt her thighs.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>21-05-2009, 15:07:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His weight pinned her down, and this time Malissa didn't want to fight him or flee. His hips forcing her thighs further apart, his mouth covering hers, silencing her moans... she just wanted more. More of him.<br><br>The pulsing at her sex had grown more demanding, almost painful, and his grinding did nothing to alleviate it; on the contrary. She could feel his own arousal so clearly that she was going to scream with frustration if this went on.<br><br>Almost growling, she let her legs drop wide apart, to give herself a bit of room, and reached both hands down his sides, searching for the straining fastenings of his leathers. Release him before he burst his seams, then he could do the same to her... and there would be nothing left to keep them apart.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>22-05-2009, 04:45:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her nimble fingers found the clasps that fastened his leather about his waist and they released the tension immediately.&nbsp; At once, they tugged downwards and he aided her by shimmying just a bit to get the worn pants over the impasse -- his straining sex.&nbsp; It was, in a heartbeat, revealed to her eyes in all its rigid glory.&nbsp; Due in no small part to fault of her own, the large, veiny member bobbed a bit as it stared her down with its one good eye.&nbsp; Try, though he might, Van could never disrobe gracefully.&nbsp; In the shuffle, while he fumbled, he bent closer to her ear, let his lips linger there and whispered, "you'd best lose yours...or you might wish you'd brought a second pair."<br><br>His lips at her lobe had both desired effects.&nbsp; First and foremost, her eyes glossed over in that glazed, half-lidded look that told him her ears were sensitive.&nbsp; Secondly, his command registered and she began shucking her coverings -- biting her lip seductively and meeting his eyes with a wanton, almost wistful smile.&nbsp; The Old Wolf could scarcely remember another time when he'd ever been so turned on.&nbsp; This Grey Hills medicine-woman on the lam had set his heart to racing and his blood to boiling.&nbsp; She was a...vixen...alluring to him in ways indescribable.<br><br>Damien stayed out of her way while the leggings slid over her hips, down her thighs, and teased him with each revealing inch.&nbsp; When the obstacle had cleared he set upon her with voracity.&nbsp; His scarred, hard, naked body pressed in on her from every angle and was greeted with its antithesis:&nbsp; Her unmarred, soft, inviting body welcomed him with invitingly-spread legs, pursed lips, and a coy smile.&nbsp; Malissa's eyes, however, belied the truth.&nbsp; She was feeling the animal-magnetism as well and nearly overcome with frustration.&nbsp; His hips lowered slowly -- restrained only by the titillating temptation that wait nary a hair's breadth from the bulbous mushroom head of his burgeoning member.&nbsp; Dainty, delicate curls of wispy hair greeted him with a moist salutation.&nbsp; The hunter gyrated slightly and slickened the length of his cock with the juices that coated her taut little lips.&nbsp; The friction along the underside of his shaft sent gooseflesh dimpling his arms.&nbsp; Van shuddered into her kiss and pulled away a moment so he could look her in the eyes as he entered her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>22-05-2009, 13:31:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sight of his erection made Malissa's womb clench. Sure, nothing she hadn't seen before, her people were not prudes. But she had felt his arousal growing and grinding against her, and the thought of having that throbbing, pulsing shaft buried inside her... She was dripping wet instantly.<br><br>Her hands started peeling off her leggings before the command to do so registered in her mind. The prospect of having him rip her clothes off was thrilling, but not right now, when they hadn't even started on their journey... Amazing how she took it for granted that they <em>would</em> journey together now.<br><br>When he pinned her down again and rubbed his shaft against her folds, momentarily letting it slide lengthwise between them, Malissa almost convulsed. Her back arched sharply, pressing her breasts against his chest once more, the sound that escaped her lips something between a groan and a growl. She barely noticed that his face was hovering just above hers now; all she could feel was the pressure between her legs, where his hardness finally found its way into wet, pulsing heat.<br><br>A moment later, he bumped against something barring the way. Malissa sucked in her breath and tightened her grip on his shoulders; then the fine barrier gave way with a little twinge of pain, and he slid all the way into her, bringing out a soft, ragged moan.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>24-05-2009, 21:01:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A momentary impasse -- the barrier between ignorance and knowledge -- kept Chastity's gate.&nbsp; The price for passage was inerrant lust and he paid handsomely.&nbsp; The engorged head of his large, veiny cock pressed the advance and swung wide her curtains to the world.&nbsp; A window's voyeuristic view -- a painful pane of glass.&nbsp; Her opacity was sinfully soft and boiling hot.&nbsp; Her transparency was the sickly-sweet musk, a slickened sensitivity, that bathed his manhood and coaxed a steam-piston's reciprocation from the turgid tool.&nbsp; Malissa lay, dashed upon the rocks in broken repose, with the wanton weal of Hell's horny harlot.&nbsp; The walls claustrophobically clutched his cock and tamped down upon their lugubrious guest; it sang in sorrowful silence until their moans crescendoed in time.<br><br>Van was in Heaven.&nbsp; If there even <em>was</em> such a place.&nbsp; He hadn't even entertained an invading thought -- solely was his focus upon her.&nbsp; His iron-infused thews were steely and clenched as every ounce of energy poured into the their escalating frenzy.&nbsp; Sweat beaded and eventually dripped from his brow while he settled into the raucous rhythm that slammed his cock home with clashing cadence.&nbsp; Their passion was feral; the grunts escaped his lips until he reluctantly pulled from her kiss, leaned back to grab a hold of her legs, and and pound her pussy mercilessly.&nbsp; A swell of pleasure built like the titillating rip-tide until its undertow inevitably took him.&nbsp; Malissa's body balked and clenched even tighter when the Hunter anchored himself against her legs and hit home.&nbsp; Each painfully pleasing stroke washed the lascivious length of his prurient prick with wave after wave of her unending heat; it felt like molten silk and threatened to melt his already waning resolve.<br><br>He was close.<br><br>Damien grabbed her ankles with his rough, calloused hands, held them aloft, and rested them against his broad shoulders as he hunched over and railed against her supine form.&nbsp; With his free hand he reached down between her legs, just above their union, and applied the subtle pressure of finesse to her little button.&nbsp; Van had more than an inkling that she was close and he wanted to send her right over the fucking edge.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>29-05-2009, 23:23:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Pain and pleasure - Malissa hadn't known just how closely the two were knit, until now. Until she found herself pinned under the virtual stranger, whom she had begged to fuck her in everything but words.<br><br>And he seemed to be intent on keeping the two in balance. Her insides had barely adjusted to his girth when he upped the pace of his thrusts. Then, when her legs had reflexively wrapped around his waist again, he had gripped her thighs, raising them to a sharper angle that raised her moans to a sharper note as well. Sweat matted her hairline and trickled down between her breasts, mixing with the dripping beads of his, the musk of frenzied desire boggling her senses.<br><br>He was ravaging her, and her body was all too willing.<br><br>Then he raised her legs even higher, burying himself all the way into her clenching depths, and before she had time to catch her breath he reached down and flicked that nub of flesh where so much sensation resides. Malissa convulsed, her hips rising clean off the rough bedding, and exploded around him with a scream of abandoned ecstasy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>01-06-2009, 17:50:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Euphoric sensations of extreme arousal and pleasure erupted from their unadulterated passion.&nbsp; Damien's rigid, veiny cock pistoned with reciprocating pleasure-pressure in long, full-length thrusts that slammed their hips together with delicious impact.&nbsp; The orgasm had been building within him like an agonizing crescendo -- an orgasm whose aria was a symphony of squeals and grunts and groans and moans -- until it exploded like one last belted note that shook the audience, the stage, and the orchestra to their very cores.&nbsp; His toes curled as the Hunter began the shivering convulsion that clenched his stomach and rocked his body senselessly.&nbsp; Van's finger, timed with his thrusts, applied pressure on her clit by exposing the engorged little bulb and then tracing delectable circles of saturated sex around and over it.&nbsp; <br><br>Malissa screamed.<br><br>It sent him over the edge.&nbsp; Her once-waiting hole clenched and clamped around him like a prisoner's vice; it held him fast and clung to his cock with such force as to milk and squeeze the massive intruder with every thrust.&nbsp; It sent Van over the edge.&nbsp; Paroxysm took him and, though he would not fight it, he searched desperately for her half-lidded lustful saucers.&nbsp; He urgently crammed the entire angry length of his bulbous member into her desperate gash until it bludgeoned the back walls of her cervix and splattered a fresco of funk into her womb.&nbsp; His balls clenched and tightened and shivered as they emptied their contents in shotgun-blast gouts of spunky hot goo.&nbsp; His chest heaved with exhaustion and his nostrils flared as they glutted themselves on the smells of sex.&nbsp; The perspiration ran in rivulets down his brow and chiseled chest and even down the fluting of his washboard-abs.<br><br>The Old Wolf, in a final impulsive and...impetuous act, leaned down -- still inside her -- scooped the young woman into his strong arms and cradled her with a last loving embrace.&nbsp; His spine tingled and he was unable to suppress an involuntary shiver.&nbsp; Damien buried his face in her neck and held her close before he collapsed, spent, and noticed the trail of blood that had seeped from his not-quite-fully-healed wound...and promptly passed out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>04-06-2009, 11:26:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was she who should have passed out, thought Malissa dimly, but that was not the time. The blood was not much, nothing to threaten his life again, but enough to smear all over his torso, and hers. She pulled herself reluctantly off him, with a momentary twinge of loss at the emptiness inside her, and swabbed the blood away as best as possible. They both needed a bath anyway. Malissa allowed herself a moment to picture them bathing together, then pulled the heavy cloak over both of them again, without bothering with clothes.<br><br>***<br><br>Back in the capital, Cardinal Istvan paced the length of his meeting room, fuming with fury. Another man stood calmly by, a tall, lanky figure in a grey robe and a matching strip of cloth over his face, that looked at first like a mask, but a closer look would reveal it as a blindfold.<br><br>'So you are telling me that what we have been trying to ensure all these days would never happen, has just happened!' raged the cardinal.<br><br>The blindfolded man nodded. 'The woman is no longer a virgin. I cannot see who is responsible, but the wheel of fate is turning, and the direction is not in your favour.'<br><br>Kalman, who had been sitting in a corner, trying not to smirk, added, 'Looks like the great hunter has succumbed to his greatest weakness. Didn't you tell him to bring her back untouched?'<br><br>Istvan shot him a murderous glance, but his voice was as coldly calculated as ever. 'He has failed, and now both of them will have to die. The Guardian have mercy on them.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>06-06-2009, 02:31:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damien's first conscious thought was a lecherous one.&nbsp; He had obviously slept comfortably, nestled and cuddled and schnuggled up to the lissome, young warmth of his sexy little companion.&nbsp; His rock-hard cock twitched with dawn's achy stiffness as it pressed gingerly between two delectably soft pillows.&nbsp; The hunter held his little minx in the cradle of his encircled arms and pulled her tighter against him.&nbsp; The alkaline scent of a sanguine sieve tingled his olfactories.&nbsp; His wound.&nbsp; Wait.&nbsp; How selfish?&nbsp; She had shed blood as well.&nbsp; Van leaned in closely, pressed his lips to the crook of her neck and woke sleeping-beauty with a breathless kiss.<br><br>"Do you hurt?" he whispered as if his voice would barely break the still, morning silence if he but spoke with kindness and care.<br><br>Without waiting for her response the Old Wolf lowered his outer arm and let it travel feathertip lightly down the edges of her body.&nbsp; His fingers traced the words he might never say as if her body were a tablet...a canvas...and his finger merely a pen...a brush.&nbsp; Each caress a singular sinful stroke that electrified their entwined bodies.&nbsp; At last, his calloused hand came to rest just below her abdomen where it slowly, gently massaged and supported.<br><br>"I didn't realize I'd be your first, Malissa, but I know within these walls that you will be my last."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>08-06-2009, 14:54:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				At the pressure of his lips against her neck, Malissa awoke with a start and a gasp, eyes wide. Gods, she had been surprised again! The instincts of the hunted had been so deeply ingrained in her over the last days that she was instantly poised to flee blindly, before realising who was holding her.<br><br>She raised her eyes to his at his words, and saw nothing but conviction in them. He meant what he said. First he had hunted her, without qualms over profiting by her death. Then he had seduced her. And now he was as good as declaring himself bonded to her. What an enigma this man was. <br><br>And he was hard and throbbing against her, desire radiating out of him in waves, and her body, still aching from the ferocity of their first coupling, wanted him again, aching even more with need. She wanted to tell him not to tempt fate with big words, but her mind refused to cooperate. With a little sigh, she tilted her face up to press her lips against his, then rolled on top of him, not even noticing the touch of cold air as the cloak slipped off her bare back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>11-06-2009, 04:06:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hunter was actually taken by surprise and smiled into her eager, young lips as she kissed him hungrily.&nbsp; She, too, had awoken with the pang of desire in her loins.&nbsp; Gods!&nbsp; She rolled on top of him and was mounted within moments.&nbsp; The brisk, morning air caressed their skin and evicted gooseflesh from its hiding place.&nbsp; Her taut, little nipples hardened with a shiver as their protection slid down her back and revealed a gorgeous form.&nbsp; Malissa had straddled him without pause for thought and now pressed his throbbing erection backwards with her pubis; the rigid, pulsing member lay trapped between their bellies like some prisoner of a titillating war.&nbsp; It was so hard and hot and...huge!&nbsp; The Old Wolf thought oddly that she hadn't responded to his question...but this was all the answer he'd ever need.<br><br>Damien held her hips securely and, once again, instigated the undulating motion that rubbed the slippery length of her steamy slit along the sensitive underbelly of his engorged cock and slickened it with her silky-desire.&nbsp; The sensation was incredible!&nbsp; Van felt more than saw her hips angle slightly upward as her rocking motions continued their steady sweaty cadence.&nbsp; She grinded against his cock like a stiff pole and using it to scratch a different itch at this new angle.&nbsp; The rhythm was soothing.&nbsp; The music was his moan.<br><br>"You'll be the death of me," the Old Wolf whispered into her puckered lips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>11-06-2009, 13:20:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>Yesterday, you seemed determined to be the death of me</em>, thought Malissa, but again no words came out. The rubbing against her folds made her simply gasp and moan, in wordless yet eloquent need. Was she dripping already? Just how much wetter could a woman get? The head of his cock snagged momentarily at the top of the cleft and her insides convulsed at the sensation. <br><br>She had to have him inside her, that very moment. Slide slowly down his length or slam hard and impale herself, it didn't matter, as long as he filled her again.<br><br>Whimpering, she rose onto her knees, sliding them a little further apart, one hand resting on his unhurt shoulder, the other gripping something, probably a handful of sack, overhead for leverage. His hands didn't drop off her hips, just held her as she hovered just above him. 'Guide me...' she whispered, looking down into his eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>12-06-2009, 17:46:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Mmm...I thought you'd never ask," he cooed from his recumbent position -- a clearly submissive position -- beneath her.&nbsp; The Old Wolf reach out while she squatted and spread her knees, baring her waiting love to him, and pressed his palms beneath her thighs supportively; the gesture eased her hold on both the sack overhead and his shoulder as she now rested, poised above his engorged, eager phallus.&nbsp; Van&nbsp; easily hefted her weight and began to lower her...an attempt to impale her inexorably on his hungry cock.&nbsp; Gods!&nbsp; She was so wet!&nbsp; The smooth, slick folds of her pussy parted but they only caressed the intruder with careless kisses.&nbsp; Misalignment repeatedly denied his entry while he shifted his pelvis in fruitless attempts to achieve the angle; it served only to tease him mercilessly and the hunter gritted his teeth in frustration.&nbsp; "Love, you've got to help.&nbsp; I can hold you like this forever but our bodies just aren't cooperating.&nbsp; Spread your knees wide and let me see you grab it, line it up, and descend upon it.&nbsp; Pleasure is yours.&nbsp; Take it!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>15-06-2009, 17:12:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He wasn't teasing her on purpose, in fact it was as frustrating for him as it was for herself, but it still felt so good! Malissa knew now what was that men hankered after and women pined for, and could wholeheartedly agree.<br><br>She had forgotten about her plea to be guided, and was all too eager to guide him instead. She rolled onto her knees, letting them slide wider apart to balance herself, and reached down to wrap her fingers around his shaft. The feel of the little throbbing veins against her palm and her own wetness on her fingers made her whimper again. She lowered her hips until the head poked between her folds, then let go and pressed down, sheathing him inside her, with agonising slowness but offering a dizzying spectacle from his angle.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>16-06-2009, 03:40:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Gods!&nbsp; That's it!&nbsp; It came out in an unintelligible gasp as her hot little whole swallowed his shaft inch by tantalizing inch.&nbsp; Hers was a mewling gasp that mimicked his own as she bit her lower lip and steadied herself.&nbsp; Her desire was thick and moist and permeated the air between them even as it lubricated his phallus' plunging passage deep into her accommodating chamber; it throbbed within her as if, through their union at the hips, she could feel the cadence of his heart.&nbsp; Onward, inward, it pressed outward with pulsing magnetism against her love-slicked walls.&nbsp; It felt like coming home, curling up in bed, and finally resting your bones after a lifetime's weary journey.<br><br>Damien encircled her in his arms and corralled her within his powerful embrace, guiding her hips even as his hands caressed her back; his pelvis moved in ponderously slow gyrating circles that ground their friction into juicy, pulpy love.&nbsp; Malissa leaned forward, pressed her button against his pelvis, and ground back.&nbsp; Her panting, sweaty body shuddered with each torturous pass into the mountain of man beneath her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>19-06-2009, 19:14:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It didn't matter who set the pace. Leading and following, impaling and being impaled, all that was nitpicking. They were one, fitting each other perfectly, moving in unison, throbbing, pulsing, wanting, knowing.<br><br>As much as Malissa would have wanted that frenzied grinding and groping to go on forever, it simply couldn't. She was barely aware of Damien's groans rising in pitch, of his hands mauling her wherever they could reach. She teetered on the edge of climax, raised herself on her knees, digging her nails into his shoulders, then slammed down again, hard, and howled in ecstasy, almost blacking out.<br><br>The sounds of their frenzied rutting drowned out the sounds of someone approaching outside.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>24-06-2009, 04:23:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Malissa.&nbsp; The little minx cooed and bucked and humped in his arms and clenched her innocent channel around his raging conduit while bouncing to the beats and rocking to the rhythms of juicy, drenching sex.&nbsp; She fucked him hard.&nbsp; Slamming herself downward in successive, vainglorious attempts to fill herself full of his veiny, rigid cock only sent the tingling sensations of electric shock up her spine when her protruding button pressed into his pelvis.&nbsp; <br><br>"Ungh!&nbsp; Yes!&nbsp; Ride it girl!&nbsp; Ride it!"&nbsp; <br><br>It was the first time he'd been really vocal during their lovemaking and it almost took himself by surprise...almost.&nbsp; The moment of pause let all manner of foreign thoughts enter his conscious mind -- like finally having an audience with the king after waiting for an eternity.&nbsp; Lost in a eudaemonic world of sexual health and orgasmic wellbeing...but still keen to the world around them.&nbsp; Those were the hunter's instincts -- trustworthy even under the most dire circumstances.&nbsp; Damien had no intention of putting a premature-end to their lovemaking but he did, however, produce Hector from seemingly nowhere.&nbsp; Ajax lay in wait...hidden...like the stalking butler.&nbsp; The Old Wolf had good reason to believe this assassin was either new or clumsy or both.&nbsp; He feared the death he couldn't detect more than anything else.&nbsp; This poor fool must be new.&nbsp; His presence, however, clearly curtailed their leisurely egress and ensured they'd ride hard for days before letting their guard down again.&nbsp; This session hadn't addled his senses but the attachment he felt for the witch was..."Malissa" he corrected himself...was undeniable.&nbsp; She was enigma.&nbsp; Right now she was warm and soft and tighter 'n a snail's ass...but she'd be enigma once again when they finished.<br><br>"Ahhhhh!" he came and hurled Ajax at the intruder in the instant he rounded the corner.&nbsp; Malissa's nails bit deeply into his taut flesh and drew droplets of blood from the skin at his shoulder.&nbsp; She was aghast with both ecstasy and horror as Van shielded her and showed the assassin his back in one swift motion.&nbsp; Everything happened so quickly that in the blink of an eye...or the bat of an eyelash...it was over.&nbsp; A heavy thud sounded as a body hit the floor and a wordless scream escaped the attacker's throat.&nbsp; Van had aimed low -- not a killing blow -- but one meant to incapacitate.&nbsp; He intended to interrogate this fool.&nbsp; And he absolutely <em>had</em> to know who had been so foolish to have fouled up this perfect opportunity.<br><br>In a moment of stark clarity Damien read the situation completely incorrectly.&nbsp; Malissa cried and scrabbled to cover herself up with a discarded garment...but ran to the assassin with...what was that look?&nbsp; Recognition?<br><br>"Who in the Nine Hells is that?" he demanded as he approached to retrieve Ajax.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>29-06-2009, 13:27:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man who apparently had tried to sneak up on them leaned against the doorjamb, just inside the shelter, his weight on one knee, the other leg straight out, blood seeping onto his deerskin breeches. If Damien had aimed a little better, he would have been hamstrung, but as it was, it was only a flesh wound; deep, but not threatening the tendon or the big artery. <br><br>Malissa had thrown her shirt on, not minding that it didn't cover much of the pertinent bits, and was busily twisting her sash into a tourniquet. Her golden head leaned very close to the stranger's sandy one. At Damien's words, he raised his face, and even in the uncertain light of dawn, the reason for Malissa's recognition was immediately obvious, as was the resemblance between the two.<br><br>'Well, hello, Old Wolf,' Derik bar Naella half-smirked up at the hunter. 'It's been a long time, eh? And fancy finding you again, of all places, just on the edge of our land, cavorting with little sister.' He stroked her hair and his smile faded. 'If you're after her, you'll have to take me out first. And, as you must remember, that will take much more than a botched throw.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>06-07-2009, 22:24:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>"Well, hello, Old Wolf,' Derik bar Naella half-smirked up at the hunter. 'It's been a long time, eh? And fancy finding you again, of all places, just on the edge of our land, cavorting with little sister.' He stroked her hair and his smile faded. 'If you're after her, you'll have to take me out first. And, as you must remember, that will take much more than a botched throw.'</strong><br><br>"Derik?" Damien asked incredulously.&nbsp; The name was disconnected from its family/surname.&nbsp; It felt lonely as it left his lips.&nbsp; "No..." the hunter whispered.&nbsp; Watched them so close to each other put things into perspective and painted an...all-of-a-sudden...very different picture.&nbsp; The man reached out and stroked Malissa's hair with a familiarity that made Van cringe.&nbsp; "You might be quiet enough to stalk a squirrel, Derik.&nbsp; I'll give you that.&nbsp; But you made more noise than a whore in church!&nbsp; You might want to re-think your approach."&nbsp; The hunter snorted and gave the man a wolfish grin.&nbsp; "I am after your sister no longer.&nbsp; I believe we've reached..." he hesitated a moment and his eyes wandered to the young healer busily working on her wounded sibling.&nbsp; "...an accord.&nbsp; Color me enlightened."&nbsp; The Old Wolf's voice was husky with the residual adrenaline and tinged with arousal.&nbsp; He hadn't even attempted to cover himself when their "would-be" attacker happened upon the lean-to.&nbsp; Modesty had never been his concern...only safety.<br><br>"What news bring you?&nbsp; The last attempt on our lives was as botched as my throw and left me in the condition you see now.&nbsp; I owe your sister my life.&nbsp; Nothing more.&nbsp; Nothing less."&nbsp; His voice was passionate and full of vigor...it belied the true feeling behind his words.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>07-07-2009, 12:24:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Derik snorted in laughter, then grimaced as Malissa twisted the tourniquet a bit too tight for a moment. 'So I made a noise and you didn't? I wish you could have listened to yourselves from outside!' He chuckled, then caressed Malissa's face, which was flushed crimson already.<br><br>'As long as you want it, little sister, it's none of my business who you're screwing - even that scoundrel over there.' Then he grew more serious. 'But you two should come back to the farm with me. The only reason she ran, Damien, was because she was hunted and she didn't want to endanger us all. If you're really not hunting her any more, you're welcome to hide until you heal, and then disappear as you see fit. Anyone more bumbling we can deal with.'<br><br>Malissa kept silent throughout the exchange. So the hunter and her brother had not only met, but knew each other well. She knew that Derik had fought in the civil war, but she had been little even when that had ended, and he didn't talk about it. If he said that Damien was the most skilled hunter she could have after her, he must be right. But she couldn't help wondering who had tried to kill <em>him</em>, and if there was much more that they should know.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>10-07-2009, 16:23:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Damien winced when he heard Derik's retort.&nbsp; It stung just like the fading pain in his side.&nbsp; " 'Scoundrel' is being polite.&nbsp; I deserve worse."&nbsp; The Old Wolf rose with the fluidity of a man less than half his age.&nbsp; His speckled grays caught the morning light as he righted his leathers and approached the wounded man.&nbsp; "You look none the worse for wear.&nbsp; The years have been a little too kind, have they?"&nbsp; His wasn't a comment meant to taunt but it could have been misconstrued.&nbsp; Van didn't rescind it.&nbsp; "Malissa, you've been rather quiet.&nbsp; Speak if you've a mind to.&nbsp; I would hear it," he commanded...gently.&nbsp; The Old Wolf busied himself with the retrieval of his long blade.&nbsp; The deadly, curved blade, Ajax, whistled through the air and disappeared somewhere on Damien's scantily clad person.&nbsp; It was a dangerous and furtive thing -- the exact opposite of Hector who sat in plain sight like a silent ward.<br><br>Derik eyed the blades warily until one vanished and his eye met the Hunter's.&nbsp; "Can you travel?" the Old Wolf asked pragmatically.&nbsp; "Our every lingering moment in this place tempts the fates...and the skillful assassins.&nbsp; Malissa, can you patch him well enough to ride a horse?&nbsp; At least to get him home?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>13-07-2009, 23:38:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Malissa was already working out a makeshift bandage. 'I can,' she said, barely raising her head from her deft fingers' work. 'It's not as serious as yours was...' Her voice trailed off, and Derik chuckled, even as he winced.<br><br>'So she patched you up too, Damien? That's so much like her... She can hurt, but she won't kill. Much better than either of us.' He chuckled again, then grew serious again. 'I have a horse out there. I suppose you two still have yours? It's not far anyway. And life out of the way of the world is what has maintained me, Old Wolf. Someone had to bring up this flower.' He caressed Malissa's cheek, then leaned on her shoulder and got to his feet, wincing. 'Let's go as soon as possible.'<br><br>Malissa slipped into her clothes with far less self-consciousness than ordinary women would have exhibited, if they were watched by both a brother and a lover. It was almost a pity that she had to cover up, but she was swiftly ready. 'I didn't expect to go back home like this,' she said, 'but that's fate for you. Let's ride.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>16-07-2009, 02:50:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Taking his cue from her, Damien gathered up his things hastily and made his way outside.&nbsp; His horse was nearby and came quietly when he whistled; hers, unfortunately, lay dashed upon the rocks -- like its shattered ankle -- when Malissa had attempted to ford the river.&nbsp; She had been running from him...and that was <em>before</em> the attempt on their lives.&nbsp; Whoa!&nbsp; Events had transpired so quickly in the last two days that he had to blink away the weariness in his eyes just to remember.&nbsp; Malissa.&nbsp; Her brother, Derik.&nbsp; The Old Wolf sighed as he loaded the saddlebags with what few possessions he had to stow before taking one last walk around their campsite.<br><br>The hunter breathed deeply and enjoyed a lungful of clean, crisp, mountain-fresh air.&nbsp; The scenery was green here.&nbsp; The panorama was expansive and beautiful.&nbsp; This country retained much of the old frontier appeal.&nbsp; A man could come here, stake his claim, build his house, farm his own land, raise his own children, and live his own life; it was about the furthest thing from a soldier's life as he could imagine.&nbsp; Right now, he just wanted to be left alone.&nbsp; He really wanted some more time with Malissa...away from all this nonsense...whatever they had gotten wrapped up in.&nbsp; Now, like never before, he understood the frontier appeal.&nbsp; Out here, in the mountains and wilderness, a man had only to answer to himself...and the gods.<br><br>A deft hand on the wound at his side brought him from reverie while another hand, just as gentle, rested in the small of his back.&nbsp; Damien looked back and down at her with one of his seldom-seen lop-sided wolfish grins.&nbsp; "You'll ride with me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>17-07-2009, 15:45:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Malissa wondered if the Sight was returning or if she was simply attuned enough to Damien's moods already, because she could almost follow his thoughts just by studying his expressions. He wished he could stay out there, anonymous again, at the end of the world, and recreate himself and his life. She didn't have the heart to remind him that, once the royal wedding took place, the border they were a stone's throw from would not exist any more. The mountains, and the foothills, where they were, would always be a rough, out of the way place, but not nearly as isolated as they were, with no more border patrols and pass guards.<br><br>She had helped Derik onto his horse already, and simply nodded at Damien's offer - or veiled command, even - before looping her arm through his and swinging easily up into the saddle behind him. There was not much space, and she would have to flatten herself against his back in order to fit. She rested one arm soothingly along his back, her fingertips brushing the nape of his neck, and wrapped the other around his waist, holding on as Derik started on the way back down. The stones marking the ford were well above the water now, dry and safe. Malissa didn't feel safe, but she had earned a few more breaths, down in her family's home.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>29-07-2009, 06:20:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The feel of her breasts crushed tightly against his back brought him from his mid-morning reverie.&nbsp; Malissa, a Grey Hills medicine woman, was no stranger to horseback.&nbsp; With one arm, she girded his waist tightly while the other rested comfortingly across his back.&nbsp; Her fingers danced idly upon his neck the way a bird bathes in its birdbath.&nbsp; Her hips were pressed tightly against his and her thighs squeezed the horse's hindquarters.&nbsp; &nbsp; Oh yes, this one was no stranger -- at all -- to the rigors of the wild (or the heat that warms its inhabitants).<br><br>As the horse picked its way over the stones the Hunter watched its every footfall with an eagle's own eye; they couldn't afford to hobble another beast.&nbsp; The oriole's warbling song heralded their passage and warmed the air even as their respective body-heat mingled.&nbsp; The smell of the stream tingled his nostrils and mixed with the crisp, brisk, freshness of the mountain air.&nbsp; "We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day to return to the lam," he said to no one in particular.<br><br>The dynamic between brother and sister both heartened and troubled him.&nbsp; In one respect he almost wanted to smile when he saw how easily Malissa fit into the role of nurturer -- whether it was her brother, him, or even a complete stranger.&nbsp; She hadn't even skipped a beat when his wounded form rounded that corner, but dutifully (if reluctantly) covered herself and went straightaway to work.&nbsp; He had the mellow mien of a man who expected to live...a man who expected to be cared after.&nbsp; Malissa's presence had probably softened Derik's battle-hardened sense of the world.&nbsp; Would it happen to him?&nbsp; Would the Old Wolf soften?<br><br>The horses' shivers and involuntary twitching kept his keen eyes on the forest's panorama.&nbsp; They made good time back to the cottage and returned without incident.&nbsp; Van could have sworn he heard himself breathe their collective sigh of relief...and he didn't like the way that sounded.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>01-08-2009, 18:12:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The cottage was tiny, one common room and loft, and since there was only one bed, wedged between the fireplace and the side wall, one of the siblings must have slept up there. Malissa, of course. Derik wouldn't have left her downstairs, the first to face anyone who tried to break in. The little building didn't have the air of a place that had stood for long, where a family had grown. The bitter truth was that the family home had been razed during the border wars, and Derik had rebuilt it from scratch, for Malissa and himself, when he had returned to find them both alone in the world. The outbuildings that held the livestock dwarfed the human dwelling. Then again, animals didn't care who took care of them.<br><br>Once inside, Derik sat down heavily and looked from one to the other. 'You don't have trouble with ladders, Old Wolf, so you'd better bunk in the loft with Malissa as well. There's a window up there, just above the trapdoor in the roof of the stables. That's the way out, if the door is out of the question.' His expression was tight and grim, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he added, like an afterthought, 'Just make sure you don't give yourselves away by making too much noise.'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>02-08-2009, 22:44:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Hah!" the Hunter barked.&nbsp; "Remember, Derik, I'm the one who struck first.&nbsp; Sure, didn't the Almighty stay my blade from shedding more of your bumbling blood?" he clapped his hand on a dusty, leather-clad knee with a snicker.<br><br>"You struck first alright -- with aim as good as my ox!&nbsp; My poor sister's in trouble if your aim's as terrible as you throw!" he jibed back with a good ribbing.<br><br>"You'll be lucky just to take that ox unawares with those clod-hopping feet o' yours!"<br><br>The boys were in good spirits and a fresh humor upon arrival...though Derik didn't take too kindly to Damien's none-too-subtle assertion that the man beds his own ox.&nbsp; Such was the banter of men -- battle-hardened, travel-weary military-men.&nbsp; It kept their wits sharper and their humor even sharper.<br><br>"Have you anything in the larder?" the Old Wolf posed.<br><br>"Just the staples.&nbsp; Were you expecting a King's Feast?"<br><br>"Hmph," Van snorted with a sly half-grin, "I'll run a little recon, cruise the perimeter, and rustle up some fowl.&nbsp; We'll eat tonight..." he hesitated before adding, "if Malissa can cook a bird."&nbsp; The Hunter winked at her before retrieving his unstrung bow and thong.&nbsp; A quiver of arrows, his skinning knife, and a smirk were all he needed now.&nbsp; It would be a fine night tonight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>04-08-2009, 17:49:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Advanced as the day was, it still didn't take too long to net a leash of pheasants, which would be a real feast. The woods were teeming with game; no wonder the local people were not interested in owning much land. Who wanted to toil with a hoe all their lives, when they could get the exhilaration of hunting and the creativity of craft with everything they caught?<br><br>The way back to the cottage brought the hunter along the main path branching off the high road, the same path that had brought him to the village just below the ridge. And there was a rider there, going straight for the same place he was heading to. Almost at a gallop, not caring to hide.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>12-08-2009, 23:40:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The Hunt had gone well.&nbsp; The forest was lush and green and burgeoning with life; a man could feed his family easily with a little plot of land and plentiful game.&nbsp; Now, the real test would be just how well Malissa could cook.&nbsp; Mentally, Damien ran down the checklist and put an extra-enthusiastic check-mark next to "in bed."&nbsp; The sounds of the forest were cacophonous the entire afternoon; they had actually distracted him at first, but that was only until he closed his eyes, concentrated on them, and let them meld into seamless white-noise.&nbsp; He had nabbed an entire leash of pheasants within a few hours.&nbsp; Now, however, the absence of that noise was as loud as his heart's powerful thumping.&nbsp; Something was happening.&nbsp; Perhaps the woodland denizens were preparing for a storm; the rains had a tendency to quiet the crowds.&nbsp; Hmm...<br><br>Damien sniffed the air.&nbsp; No, there was no storm brewing, but now he heard the low, distant clop-clop of a heavy gallop.&nbsp; A horse approached -- but it wasn't headed for him -- it was headed toward the cottage at a dead-run.&nbsp; Hackles raised on the back of his neck as he hurtled through the terrain heedlessly.&nbsp; The rider made no attempt to hide his passage.&nbsp; He was either friend or foe; there was no middle-ground these days.&nbsp; His life had gotten considerably less complicated in the last forty-eight hours and yet, somehow, it had grown considerably more complex.&nbsp; Van wasn't sure he even understood himself anymore.&nbsp; His thoughts were both jumbled and contradictory when the little cabin entered his plane of vision and the billowing plume of smoke that rose from its chimney alerted the surrounding land that someone here yet lived.<br><br>The Hunter laid the train of fowl down, knocked an arrow into his bow, and poised -- stock-still -- in the underbrush with a wary eye for the intruder.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>19-08-2009, 13:21:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the rider came closer, more details were visible. The horse was sweaty, but not foaming; it had been run fast and consistently, but not ragged. The rider obviously meant to continue on it, whatever the errand there was. A man, his cloak and broad-brimmed hat nondescript but good quality. Not a local, then; the area's goods were quite distinctive. There was a shortsword slung on his back and a long knife on his belt. Good sign. No visible weapons would, in all probability, mean several concealed ones.<br><br>The gallop subsided to a trot as the cabin came closer, and the door opened. It was Derik there, naturally, waiting for the newcomer, who still made no effort to hide. Well, that settled it. Whoever it was, Derik knew him. But it was interesting that an outlander would choose that moment to pay a visit. Definitely a meeting one didn't want to miss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>26-08-2009, 00:47:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Who could this mysterious rider be?<br><br>Damien posed the question of himself over and over again -- like a litany -- in his head.&nbsp; The arrow was no longer trained on the outlander's head though it was still nocked against his cheek and sitting proudly astride the taut bowstring.&nbsp; The Hunter hadn't hunted for so long by letting his guard down easily.&nbsp; The predator stalked the scene unfolding for more than a hundred yards out; he was too distant to hear their words but his vision was like that of the hawk and (not even for a second) he didn't doubt his ability to fell the man where he stood.<br><br>A foreigner for sure, by the look of his clothes and his horse, but not so foreign that he appeared lost...merely out of place.&nbsp; The man's ride was lean, worked hard but not exhausted.&nbsp; It was a dappled beast whose sleek, sweaty skin hadn't seen a winter like the ones that cloaked the Grey Hills in a hoary white coat.&nbsp; Warmer climes then.&nbsp; His broad-brimmed had the look of a sun-warder -- not a head-warmer.&nbsp; The blade on the man's back was evident, even from afar, and it was shorter and slimmer than Damien expected.&nbsp; &nbsp;Almost a short sword but it looked quicker.&nbsp; At this distance, however, the Hunter didn't trust his hazy assessment.&nbsp; The rider carried a long knife at his belt -- probably for skinning a kill on the road of the traveler -- and it hung to just above his knee-high, leather boots.&nbsp; The man's appearance was distinctive and Van committed it to memory.&nbsp; Something about this outsider felt...familiar...as familiar as it was altogether alien.<br><br>"Fear not Old Wolf!&nbsp; We've nothing to fear from this man!" Derik called out into the wilderness.&nbsp; He couldn't see the bounty hunter but he was no idiot.&nbsp; Derik knew that Damien was a hair's breadth from killing the traveler as surely as the sun would set this e'en.<br><br>Grudgingly, Damien left his cover, picked up the train of fowl, and made his entrance.&nbsp; It took a painful minute to wend his way through the brush but, eventually, he approached Derk and the rider.&nbsp; The horse had yet to be tethered or watered and Malissa eyed them through the window.&nbsp; It was a regular party.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fire, Steel, and Fate [Lilias &amp; Jago]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lilias</strong> on <strong>01-09-2009, 13:10:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The stranger looked Damien up and down without surprise, as if he'd been expecting him to be there, and nodded. 'They sent you after her,' he said - a statement, not a question. 'Small wonder.'<br><br>Derik stepped aside for the two to come in, and had barely closed the door when Malissa came to throw her arms around the newcomer and press a kiss on his cheek. He chuckled and gave her a squeeze before taking off his hat and cloak, revealing closely cropped greying hair and an outfit that could have been that of the Magisterium guards, without the distinctive wine-red tabard.<br><br>Before even Damien had time to bristle, Malissa offered enlightenment: 'He helped me out of prison. A child of the hills doesn't forget his own kind, no matter how far or how long he walks away...'<br><br>The stranger nodded, a grim look in his eyes. 'I know innocence when I see it, kinswoman. But now I know why you had to die, as well. I hate having to drive you out again, but you must live.' He eyed the hunter suspiciously. 'As long as there's no wolf in sheep's clothing here.'
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>