Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Kaye » Thu May 26, 2011 11:18 am

The words spoken between the estranged siblings merely grazed over his own ears. At the moment, his mind was buzzing with one wild thought after another. The king was dead....the Resistance had finally done what they had been threatening to do for over fifty years....the kingdom had been cast into chaos and uncertainty. As a dragon rider, Ronan's first obligation came to his king, and then his country. Well, now that the king was dead, it looked like his main priority was protecting those that he had taken a vow to keep out of harm's way. He knew that the Resistance now held the throne and would most likely place one of their leaders in a position of absolute power, and that his fellow riders would be facing a choice of joining with them and being alive but slaves or being condemned as traitors to their new master and being dead but free. It was a hard choice either way, but Ronan was firm in his own resolve. He would not join them; the king might be dead but the kingdom still lived...and while that was still alive he would not join his enemy, not matter the cost.

Now the subject came to his letter, and the clearly defined orders that were placed there: "Kill anyone who stands in the way of the New Order. The Adric family has been given a choice; should they chose to join us, see to it that they are brought to us. Should they chose resistance, when their allotted time is up, see to it that they do not cause us any further problems."

His choice now rested on whether or not he would join the Resistance and do their bidding, but in his mind that choice was already decided. His life would be forfeit, and he knew that if any of his fellow riders caught him, or any of the standing army even, he would be slain without question. However, he had no desire to kill his old friends, friends that had treated him like family before he had gone away to play warrior in a distant land. Loyalties were shifting and nothing we was the same anymore, but Ronan knew in his heart of hearts that being a traitor to the New Order would be the only way to remain faithful to his vows and the kingdom.

Ronan looked over at Kat, not sure how to answer her demand. Silently, he handed her the letter. He had no further use for it and planned to throw it into the fire, but she had a right to know. He said nothing as Elias and his servant left; he was numb from the news of the take over and of his lord's death, not to mention tired from the long journey and cold from the rain. Ronan wanted to go and get Mulkai and try to find those he knew that would still be loyal to the cause and refuse to join Thatcher and his henchmen. But he knew that he was tired and Mulkai needed to sleep as well after such a long flight. He also knew that he had to let Kat and Elias think over their next course of action. He would not kill them, but he would not make them go with him either.

"I take my leave for the night," he said, watching Elias leave. What he wanted now was some food, a hot bath, and some warm, clean clothes. They had a long journey in the morning, and it was best to start it off warm and well-fed and rested.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Teegan » Wed Jun 29, 2011 2:15 am

(Deleted so my inactivity won't look awkward.)
Last edited by Teegan on Sun Sep 25, 2011 1:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Edmund/Gillian » Sun Aug 14, 2011 2:34 pm

As soon as Elias left the room, he felt the change in atmosphere around him. He had been in that room for much of the evening before, and it was beginning to feel like a self-imposed prison, which in a way it was. Always, when he got out of there, things felt more open. Ironic, since he now turned off the grand, main upper hall, and slipped through a door into a cramped, dim, unmaintained passage. Slitted windows allowed thin shafts of the first sunlight to pierce through, and drew thin lines on the opposite wall, interrupted momentarily by Elias' shadow as he passed through them. He was in the barracks now, the fortified parts of this old manor, the oldest parts. They were no longer used. What lord now employed his own army? Not him.

He reached a turn in the passage, and rather than turn with it, he stooped through another archway, and hurried down a winding stone staircase. At the bottom, one more wooden door took him out into the dust and smell and early morning sounds of a stable. His boots were waiting for him, dropped by him the last time he had entered this way, through a nearly unvisited entrance where no servant came to pick things up. He pulled these boots on now, then grabbed a riding coat that was still hanging where he had hung it, on the post of the small fence there. Beyond that, there was no time to dress more appropriately for the road. In just another moment, he was galloping down the paths, through the fields, leaving the manor at an angle that no one would likely see.

He rode with determination, throwing himself and the horse beneath him faster and faster towards the next hill, then the next, racing past the sunrise shadows of trees on either side of the path, and the silent crops that opened up around him as he passed the woods. But he himself knew, even in this fierce race, that he had nowhere to go. He rode with no concrete goal but to ride. He rode because he could not stay there for 5 hours waiting. He rode, hoping that the wind that whipped past his face would drown out the words of the letter which flew through his head.

"Be informed that the king is dead tonight..."

His eyes were on the fields ahead, and yet he didn't see them. He urged the horse on, as if speed itself would provide the answer.

"...we now declare this kingdom officially our own."

The farmers in the field saw him, but did not recognized him. Riders came through these ways from time to time, hurrying to deliver something or just passing through this country on their way somewhere else, and it wasn't their business anyway.

"As a member of a class that is to exist no more, you are, as of this day, no longer welcome in our land."


Eventually, thoroughly mired in these thoughts and memories, Elias didn't notice as the horse slowed, entering the stickier, marshy lands on the border, and approached the river.

"...our land."

The horse began to pick its way through the muddy sludge that had become far harder to pass from the rainstorm earlier that night. Instinct, rather than real awareness, prompted Elias to steer toward a small footbridge downstream.

"If, after these twelve hours, you are found by any of those loyal to our cause, to remain in our land, you may expect no protection from us."

They crossed and the horse continued on up a path, heading once more into dense woods.

"...from one who knows him well and has guessed his movements. Instructions are clear."
And Ronan's name on the envelope inside. And his own name, so neatly printed, on the front. Title and all. Lord Elias Adric. Lord Adric...

Elias awoke suddenly, not from sleep but from some distant thoughts that he couldn't recover. Surroundings swam slowly into his consciousness and had to struggle for a moment with the murky distractions that were still in his mind, before he began to see anything. He had no idea how long he had been riding, but a bright, fresh morning was already on well on its way. He was nearing the ridge of a long hilly path, where the trees had thinned on all sides and a great open sky was visible above. He furrowed his brow, feeling oddly familiar with this path, but fully unable to tell where he was. He looked up and saw something standing at the top of the hill. Not a tree, too straight. A flag staff, maybe? Where was he?

He gave the horse a small kick, and quickened his pace up the path to a quick trot to go and see, his eyes on the pole ahead. And then he began to see something else rising into view, as he gained in altitude. The peak of some tower, perhaps a gate. Something in his memory stirred and he approached with captured interest.

His horse reached the top of the hill, and came up level with the staff, which indeed probably had at one time flown a flag, though now it was deserted. Elias sat stock still in the saddle, as he surveyed the silent sight before him.

It must have been an impressive sight when it was first built, such a stately hall erected in the middle of such open plains. But somehow its present state made it particularly striking, a crumbling giant alone and still. The tower Elias had seen while climbing the path was the one remaining of what must have been twins framing a gate. Now from one side there jutted the very beginning of a sheltering arch of stone, that would once have extended all across in a majestic curve, but had since fallen away. The sides of what must have been a great hall were still marked out - on one side, there was still part of a wall, varying heights of rock remaining all along the length of it. On the other, there remained a line of stone foundation, traced along the ground, but nothing more.

What drew the eye the most, though, was also what drew Elias down into the shallow valley, leaving his horse at the ridge of the hill and walking slowly towards the hollow structure. It would have been the back wall, the one furthest from the gate. Now it stood almost alone, and it was, by far, the best preserved part of the ruins, having clearly been built more sturdily, despite the impression of weightlessness it gave. The wall was grey and very tall. Three towering arches were carved out of it, the middle slightly taller than the others. Through these, the sunlight gleamed, creating the impression that they each led to nothing but light. Elias reached the ruins, and stood in the broken entrance, looking up at this wall. What was this? Where was he?

Why did he remember this?

He stepped passed the empty gateway, a kind of reverence entering his step. There was no floor here, only the occasional stretch of stone, mostly covered over now by mud and earth. The outer sides had some patches of grass. Near the centre was a wide puddle, where the rain had pooled - he stepped in it without seeing it, and looked down briefly when heard the slight splash his boots made, before looking back up, far up, to the wall with the arches. A wind rustled the grass, and blew through his fair hair, and fluttering the edges of his riding coat, as he walked. He slowed as he reached the wall with the arches, and put out his hand to touch the one on the left, steadying himself as he stepped up into it. He looked out into the scene beyond.

From there, he could see why this spot had been so attractive to whatever builders had chosen it. The arch looked out on a valley, vast and far reaching. In the far distance, there were great, green hills. This must have been some kind of look-out point, but whether for guarding the valley or simply for admiring it, he couldn't tell. All thoughts of the letter, and of those jarring events of the early morning, were gone, as he stood, looking.

He watched like that a long time, and it seemed as if his mind were blank. A wind in the valley stirred up again and the tall grass rippled in the sunlight. An occasional bird's cry was all the sound there was, beside the softness of the breeze. That's why, when the scream from above ripped through the silence, Elias spun around in shock, ducking at the same time, and his heart seemed to leap into his throat.

A dragon's cry, huge and powerful. Sure enough, he looked up (realizing suddenly that he was crouching, his arms over his head, from the shock), and saw the enormous leathery wings of a flying beast high, high above. Two more dragons followed it. They were flying fast - somewhere north, Elias thought, judging from the direction of the rising sun. He suddenly felt fear wrap around him. He had little experience with dragon riders, almost none beyond Ronan, and even Ronan he knew only as a friend, not as his profession. And yet, for whatever reason, he felt suddenly sure that they must not see him. He huddled against the rock of the arch wall, and held still, watching as they passed. If they saw him, either rider or beast, they did not show it, and after a minute they were out of view. One departing scream seemed to hang in the air, and then it was as if they hadn't been there at all. And then all at once, it flooded back into his mind.

Ronan. Katherine.

He clambered to his feet. What time was it? He had promised to be back. He remembered now. The letter. The riders were heading north. But where was he? Which direction was his home? North? He had a horrible feeling it was. He had a horrible feeling those dragon riders were going in the same direction he was supposed to, possibly to the very same place. How long had he been riding? How long would it take him to get back? He closed his eyes and pushed his palms against his face, willing his mind to find the way.

When he took his hands away from his face, he slid them through his hair, pulling slightly, trying to wake himself up. He needed to wake up. He

- woke up. He heard the strangest sounds. Animals. Pigs. Chickens. A rooster crowing a little ways away. It was dark - not night, but a cloudy, misty dark, the kind of day that promises a storm to come. He turned around, confused to say the least. He was standing on a farm. A weather vane turned lazily above a broken-down old wooden house. He was standing in mud, quite deep. A farmer was tossing feed to some unseen animals behind another fence nearby, and eying him warily. As if in a dream, Elias pulled his feet out of the mud and waded over to the dirt road at the end of the fence. He hit a wooden gate on his way, looked down, unhooked it and went through, letting it flap closed behind him. His horse was nowhere in sight. He stood on the gravel path that led to a larger road.

He was, admittedly, used to blackouts in his memory, and he had occasionally even come to the point of not knowing where he was. But this didn't feel like those times at all. Where was he now? He turned around again, looking for something familiar, and then stopped in his tracks. Something familiar it was - there, just up a hill, not too far along the road, was his own manor. The world shifted in his mind, and his present location fell into place. So he was just down the road from his home. And there were people there, further on up the road between him and the house, approaching it. A crowd was forming. He could not see any individuals, nor whether there was anyone coming out from his own house to greet them. But he could tell he couldn't get to the main doors without meeting them. Well he didn't really want to use the main doors anyway, and run into people he knew, who would have such questions - questions he himself couldn't answer.

Alright. He didn't know what was going on, and he was acutely aware of that. But if he was indeed down the road from his house, then he knew the way to get back in secretly. Through the stable. Where he had thought he had been just that morning. He left the farm (and the suspicious farmer) and cut through the woods, noticing as he went that his boots were caked in mud up to the mid-calves, and that his riding coat was a mess. His hands were muddy, which meant his face must now be as well, where he had touched it, and his hair too. He continued on, up the slope, until he merged with a wide, familiar path. From there, he could see the wall of the manor, and the small stable door.

Once in the stable, he tossed off his coat and boots, replacing them with the shoes he had been wearing, and glanced in to see if perhaps his horse was back, waiting for him. (It was not.) After a moments' hestitation, he slipped back out of the stable, rather than up the stairs, and went around towards the back of the manor, where the well stood, intent on a splash of cold water for his face before he went inside. He needed to get a grip on reality, and well, cold water had done a decent job before.

But instead of just the well, he found a guard of the watch stationed by the wall. He nearly turned around to go back, not too excited about meeting anyone right now. But the guard was watching something intently, and Elias was struck with a feeling of ill forboding. He came up closer and saw that it was his father's personal Commander of the Knights, Kerreck.

Hoping to see what he saw, but not be noticed (he hardly needed his father's chief pair of eyes to see him in this mess and question him - even if his father was long in the grave by now, this man's silent judgment had always been nearly as dreaded for Elias, since his very childhood), he edged around the wall and looked down towards the gate. There was the crowd of people he had seen from down at the farm, but now they were much closer and clearer. They had torches. And they carried other tools, though, as well - some scythes, some sheaving knives, some simply large poles - but a few, he saw with surprise, even had rusty old muskets and a couple of very old army-issue pistols glinted in the firelight that they carried. It was a large crowd, and they were coming straight this way.

Elias stared for a moment, and then suddenly came unglued from his spot and took off running, the nearest entrance being just down the wall. He no longer cared if the guard saw him, and if he followed Elias didn't notice. He ran in the door and up the stairs, into the main corridor and straight to the door of the study, where he had last seen his friend and sister. Was he late, was it past 12 o'clock? Or had this crowd come of its own accord, without waiting for the deadline left in the letter? And were they the first, or had anyone been inside?

He threw the curtain aside, and dashed in, disheveled and panicked and ready for anything. "RONAN?!" he called. "KATHERINE??"
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Kaye » Thu Sep 01, 2011 6:57 pm

Ronan was shown to his room; it had tall, sweeping ceilings and deep red wall hangings to cover most of the stone. A fire was lit as he stood there admiring it, instantly spreading a warm glow over the entire room. The rugs beneath his boots were deep and lavish, much more than he was used to anywhere else, and the bed was an enormous four poster with crimson curtains all around it. Elias certainly had taste and style, he would award his old friend that much at least. Still staring, Ronan walked over to the bed and pressed a grim-covered hand against the plush comforter; it sank in, surrounded by scarlet blankets.

"May I take you things, sir?" Ronan looked up. He had temporarily forgotten that he was not the only one in the room. A wizened old servant was holding out his gnarled hands, his smile missing many teeth but warm all the same, indicating that he wanted to take Ronan's bags. Feeling uncomfortable being addressed as "sir", Ronan handed his bag over, which was as simple as the attire he wore.

"Is there anything else we can get you before you retire?" the man asked as he cradled the bag in his arms and moved over to a dresser to put them inside. Ronan felt bemused; he could have easily have done that without help.

"How about a bath and something to eat?" he asked, slightly put-off by the service. He was used to fending for himself; he was a warrior, a fighter, not some pampered prince. How did Elias live like this?

"We will have a tub and warm water brought in right away, sir, and how about something hot to warm your bones?" Grinning and done with his self-appointed chore, the man bowed as low as his back would allow and scuttled from the room, leaving Ronan standing where he was as though struck dumb. By the time the meal was brought in he had only pulled off his boots and set them near the fire to dry. He ate with gusto, feeling as if it had been weeks since his last meal, watching silently as two younger servants came in and placed a cooper tub in the center of the room and began to fill it with several buckets of water. Steam rose up, and his joints almost cried out for him to leap into the water as soon as he was able.

The old man placed some towels on the chair at the foot of the bed for Ronan to use and cleared up his plate and goblet. "Would you like me to dry your clothes?"

Ronan, feeling that the old creature had already done far too much, shook his head. Being as polite as he could, he said, "No, thank you. I will just dry them by the fire."

"As you wish, sir." The man bowed again and slunk out of the room, closing the door neatly behind him with a soft click.

Biting his lip and feeling nervous for reasons he did not understand, Ronan stripped down and placed his clothing near the fire. He then slowly sank into the warm water of the tub, sighing in contentment as the warmth spread through his skin down to the very fibers of his bones, heating him after the cold flight. His clothing smoked and steamed as they dried; the water had been coming down in torrents outside, so he was not that surprised. How long he spent in the bath, he did not know, but he took his time, doubting there would be many warm baths in the near future. Not when he and the others were cast into imposed exile in order to save their skins.

Grief gripped his heart; the king had been a good man, someone he had admired greatly while under his care. A simple farm boy, an orphan, and the king himself took interest in him, vouched for him to train with the knights, even offered him a chance to make a dragon egg hatch for him. He owed everything he had currently gained to him, and when he had needed him most, Ronan was not there. And now the king was slain, dead, the one foe no one could conquer.

Once he was clean and feeling better and fresh, Ronan dried himself off and slipped into a different pair of clothing he had brought. He pulled on his breeches and did up the laces in the front, then tugged a fresh tunic down over his head. Refreshed, he collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted both physically and emotionally.

Whether he had been asleep for minutes or hours, he was not sure, but he awoke suddenly when he heard screaming. Someone was calling his name. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Ronan pulled on his boots and bolted out of his room, looking around wildly for whoever was calling for him. Was this some dream? Was he not even awake yet? Caution peaked, he went back into his room and pulled his sword out from his bag, glad that the old man had had sense enough not to touch that at least. Feeling bolder with the weight in his hand, Ronan bolted out of his room again and jogged down the hall, stopping when he saw that it was Elias who had been screaming out.

"Do you want to wake the entire keep?" he demanded of his old friend, relaxing slightly. But his nerved when back on edge; Elias would not have been calling out like that for just anything. Eyes narrowing, Ronan looked at him shrewdly. "What's going on?"
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Edmund/Gillian » Sun Sep 18, 2011 7:57 pm

The voice behind him made Elias spin around in surprise. He calmed down quickly, though, when he saw Ronan, a sight which brought twofold relief - for one, it meant it was not someone else sneaking up behind him, and for another it meant that Ronan was here after all, and looked to be safe.

He saw Ronan's expression change to one that looked somewhere between concerned and wary, and that was all he needed, to know that Ronan had not seen the crowd yet that was outside the manor. Elias passed a hand through his hair, and felt gritty dirt and hardened mud beneath his fingers. "Someone's here," he said, looking at Ronan and speaking as clearly as he could, despite how completely disoriented he was. He had no idea what time it was, no idea who the people were that were now arriving, and honestly no idea what had just happened to him over how ever long it had been since he had left that morning. "Outside. There's a huge group, they're armed, they're coming to the doors as we speak."

He looked around, but Ronan seemed to be alone in the hall. "Where is Katherine?" he asked, and now he was realizing he was out of breath. But that wasn't the only reason he was breathing so quickly. There was no denying it, not even for someone as good at denying things as Elias was. That was fear creeping in, and not slowly either - unmistakeable, genuine, unfightable fear.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Mari » Mon Sep 19, 2011 8:02 pm

Elias took his leave, then Ronan, leaving Kat alone and numb, with Ronan's letter clenched in her fist. This wasn't the plan... this wasn't the plan... Her brain echoed those four words over and over, icy shock rooting her to the spot as it all sunk in. The king was dead. The Houses disbanded. House Adric disbanded. All properties and possessions forfeit to the public. Or to Tomas, more likely. That bastard! He knew the aims of the movement too well, and twisted them to his own.

Something in Elias' letter intrigued her, however. "As the last surviving member of the Adric family..." It meant Tomas either had never heard of Katherine Adric, or believed her to be dead. Either way worked, because it followed that he never suspected little old Kat Cooper of having ties to the nobility. Unless he had figured out her identity, and it was a trap... but the only way to tell the difference would be to put herself in danger. Not that she wasn't in danger anyway. Elias and Ronan certainly were. She, however, could just slink back into the shadows... but that wouldn't solve anything.

Mirabelle interrupted her thoughts with a light tap on the shoulder that made her jump a foot in the air. The weight of her dress reminded her she was still dripping wet from earlier. "A warm bath, perhaps?" Mirabelle asked, knowing the answer before she gave it by Kat's shiver.

And hour later Kat was warm and curled in one of the soft featherbeds she remembered from her childhood, but sleep eluded her. Hour after hour slipped into the past, as time marched on towards the deadline, and still she lay there. It was as though by burrowing herself into the bed she could be a child again, hiding from a chore or party she didn't want to attend. The deadline probably passed by now, though Kat had no way of counting the minutes (or hours) since the first pink rays of sun had first banished the gray shadows in the room. All she knew was that as soon as she woke up properly, stood up, that nightmare she'd hoped was just a dream would unfold before her. War. Chaos. Hunting. Being hunted. If only she could freeze this moment, the soft bed beneath her and the warm blanket above her and a problem that could be solved by burying her face into the pillow. But she wasn't little Kat anymore. She was Lady Katherine Adric, whether she'd wanted to be in the past or not, and her family- and her country- needed her.

And so did somebody in the hallway, by their shouting.

She almost dashed out, before remembering that it might be a trick to draw her out. Maybe revolutionaries had already taken the castle! Grabbing a candelabra from a desk in her room she threw open the door, running towards the sound, her linen nightgown whipping behind her as she came upon-

Elias. And Ronan.

She sighed a huge sigh, panting slightly. "Oh... just you two... I thought... maybe..." she trailed, gesturing with the candelabra.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Kaye » Tue Sep 20, 2011 3:28 pm

Something was definitely wrong here. There were noises outside; what was once a quiet courtyard had turned into a mob. Frowning, Ronan shook his head and turned, but before he could go back to his room, Kat appeared, holding a candelabra and still in her night-things. Normally, he might have laughed, but there was no time at the moment. "If you think that is going to do you any good you are sadly mistaken," he grunted.

Ronan turned to the pair of them. "I thought we would have until morning, but it looks like time is up. Pack light; get some spare clothes, whatever money you can, and something to defend yourself if you need it. Something besides that stick in your hand," he muttered to Kat, his survival reflexes kicking in. "You have five minutes. Meet me back here once you are done."

Without waiting for a response, Ronan turned and ran down the hall to his bed chambers once more. His things were all nearby, barely out of the knapsack he put them in. Without bothering for neatness, he stuffed his clothes back inside in a jumble and pulled his cloak back on, still damp from the flight that night. He buckled his sword to his belt and slung his bow over his shoulders, becoming bulkier by the minute. He stuffed his dagger down his boot and loaded his pistol and put it in his belt as well, and once he was done and with a quick once-over to make sure he had gotten everything, he went to his window and gave two whistles like an owl.

Nodding in satisfaction, Ronan darted out of his room, knapsack and bow slung over his shoulders and moving slower than he would have liked due to the extra weight, but comforted by having them with him all the same. They did not have much time; the keep would fall and if they were caught...well, it was best not to think about that at the moment. Ronan looked around quickly, keeping his eyes and ears open just in case as he waited impatiently for Kat and Elias to join him again.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Edmund/Gillian » Fri Sep 23, 2011 2:31 pm

No sooner had Elias had spoken than his question was answered, as his sister burst into the hallway and hurried up to them. He looked at her blankly, no smile on his face, but no scorn either. Mostly, even he had to admit, it was relief. Ronan spoke up and immediately began to make plans. Elias noticed that Ronan said 'we', but he didn't argue. So Ronan counted himself as part of this as well? He expected to go with them?

When Ronan finished speaking, Elias nodded and turned straight into the study. He tossed the curtain aside with one hand, and pulled the bell cord with the other, on his way in, then went directly to his desk. There, in the moment of private before the servant arrived, and out of view of his friends, he opened the bottom cupboard, retrieved a bottle of clear liquid and, putting a new glass on the table, poured. Just enough to clear his head, he assured some invisible questioner, and then quickly downed the glass before replacing the bottle below the desk just as the door opened.

"Pack a bag for me," Elias said, as he went to look out the window. He couldn’t see the main crowd from here, but he could see some smaller groups and individuals in the streets coming this way, no doubt to join the larger mob. So it was growing still. “A very small one, for a short trip. A - a hunting trip, so hardy clothes, but light. I’ll take care of the equipment myself. And bring me the purse of gold from the vault, put that in the bag too. Don’t delay, I’m anxious to be going.”

The servant left immediately with a bow and Elias turned around to be sure he was gone. Then he went to the desk again, but this time he opened a small drawer at the top and took out a silver key on a ribbon. He took this over to one of the bookshelves and retrieved a small oak box from an upper shelf, then brought it back to the desk where he opened it with the key. Inside, the box was lined with green velvet. Two antique pistols lay cushioned there, facing each other, and snapped into a space on the inside top of the box was a belt and two holsters. The pistols he took out with a sad but familiar feeling. The belt, however, he was so unused to that he had to fiddle with the snap for a moment before he could figure out how to undo it. Once he did, he threw his coat over the chair and fixed the belt in place. He then slipped the guns into the holsters, and then put the coat back on top.

That was all he really could do now. The room was silent, and he couldn’t hear any steps yet in the hall. He looked down at the box and closed it, and then stood silently by the desk until he heard the servant come back in to give him his bag. He took it, tossed it over his shoulder, and then walked back into the hall to where Ronan had said to meet. He saw Ronan spot him instantly as soon as he returned into view – the dragon rider’s senses were on alert right now, no wonder.

“Ready when you are,” he said.
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Kaye » Tue Nov 29, 2011 4:33 pm

Things were moving too quickly. Everything except for them.

This was a dangerous situation and he knew it. The castle was being attacked and these two were talking about getting their things together. If Ronan had had his choice he would have been out of the door and in the air by now. Sadly, traveling always got more complicated once more people became involved, and he was no babysitter. He was used to looking after himself, and he knew that bringing anyone with him would slow him down a considerable amount. He knew his best chance of getting away was to leave now and not look back. He also knew that abandoning his friend was not an option; he had grown up with Elias, and Elias and his family had always been good to Ronan. Leaving him behind to face things for himself would be a cowardly thing to do.

His bag was light enough; a few changes in clothes, some food he still had packed from before, and various other necessities he needed along the way. He had a bow, so hunting was never much of an issue, and some money, so he could stop in a nearby market to get what he needed later. He knew how to survive outdoors without a bed for a long period of time; he had been trained in the art of it. He was not sure how Elias or his sister would handle it, but it was better to be cold and uncomfortable than comfortable and dead.

Once Elias had everything he needed (or wanted; need would be decided later), Ronan nodded and prepared to bolt. What he needed to do now was to get to Malakai and get to the air where they would at least have some advantage; the sun was rising so they would be flying in the daylight, but they could use clouds for cover if need be. "Where is Kat?" he asked, stopping himself for the moment when he realized the young woman was not with them yet.
My curse in life is that I'm always right
Kaye
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Re: Post for the Oldbies - Anyone free to join :)

Postby Edmund/Gillian » Tue Nov 29, 2011 4:58 pm

Elias shrugged, suggesting by his expression that he wished it to be clear that he knew no more about his sister’s comings and goings than anyone else. The situation was urgent, though, and after a second, this fact overruled Elias’ inclination to show his spiteful ignorance.

“In her room, I imagine.” He nearly went to get her himself, before stopping and pulling on a rope nearby. The same servant who had brought him his bag returned and stood deferentially. “Please run and call Lady Adric from the room where she’s staying. Her presence is imperative and quite timely, let her know.”

The servant nodded and left. Elias turned back to Ronan. “I can’t account for Katherine,” he said after a moment. “She left long ago, and she’s a stranger to me as much as to you. Perhaps even more so…” With this, he slipped past Ronan and went to the window, where the crowd was gathering. Torches lit the dull and stormy morning air. When the servant returned, Elias turned around to see his puzzled face.

“Forgive me, my lord,” the man said, “but Lady Adric does not seem to be in the room in question.” Elias stared at him. “Er, does your lordship with for me to send for her somewhere else, perhaps?”

Elias looked at Ronan, and then back at the servant. “Her room is just down the hall, is it not?” he asked. The servant answered affirmatively. “And she was not in the hallway on the way here?”

But he already knew the answer, otherwise the servant would have spoken to her in the hall. Elias paused a moment, and then strode purposefully down the hall and to the room his sister should be in. He flung open the door, without knocking, and found it empty. He stood stunned in the middle of the floor, and waited, he didn’t know for what.
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