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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 2, 2011 16:30:04 GMT -6
"I have got to get out of here..." thought the lonely, pink haired Ilian to himself for what seemed to be the millionth time. Unfortunately, despite the repitition, there was little he could do to act on it.
Richter, still hurting but definitely feeling far better than he did the night before, sat in his cold wooden box. The commander's black and orange cape was wrapped around his face and arms like an oversized scarf as he rubbed his chest to keep warm. Ilia may have been cold by default, but the Ilian could tell they were in one of the colder parts of Ilia. That, and the weather didn't seem to be helping.
Richter's vision of the outside was, for the most part, obscured, only the faintest slivers of grey light filtering in through the cracks and crevasses, but it wasn't hard to tell they had run into a storm. The wind was howling outside like a pack of wolves, with blades of air cutting right through the walls of the dingy prison cart, and with it came flakes and specs of snow that thwarted any of Richter's attempts to at least pretend he was any warmer than he actually was.
The commander couldn't help but smirk grimly, however, as he shivered in the dark. Save for the half-healed wound in his side, he was quite sure far better off than his captors. After all, he wasn't stuck outside in the bitter cold and frost. Part of him wished they'd drop dead, but unfortuntely that would mean he'd be stuck out in the middle of who knows where in a giant wooden crate covered in snow. It didn't paint the most attractive picture of a tomb.
Shuffling over to the door, Richter lay down on his back, and for what was probably the twentieth time, lifted up his right leg and aimed a swift, hard kick at the door. Like every other time, though, the wooden door merely suddered, the metal lock giving no quarter. Damnit. It didn't take a genius to realize it wasn't going to work, but the commander was in a position where "futile" wasn't an appropriate answer. He wasn't just going to go back to Etruria and let the Prophet and that damn Herald kill him for public pleasure. No. When it was time for him to go back to Etruria it would be on his own terms.
But, again, it really didn't seem like that was going to be happenening. Of course he'd attempt some sort of escape when he got the chance, if just to not go down on the chopping block, but in the end, he'd still be dead.
Richter groaned, frustrated and lying on his back. It was then that he felt a growling in his stomach. Sighing, he rolled over. He hadn't eaten in about a day, so he was pretty damn hungry. Delphia was at least days away even on the fastest of pegasai. Were these bastards going to feed him? Or was the idea to capture him alive so that he could starve on the road.
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Post by Cefia on Aug 2, 2011 16:57:34 GMT -6
Cefia grimaced as she sipped her drink. This was absolutely horrible situation she had gotten herself in. Then again her hard headedness always got her into such a situation. These idiots don’t know what a real leader is! She wasn’t overly religious and that might be the reason for her situation. Yet she never regretted her decisions but it wasn’t her choice to be helping them.
It had been a full year now since her being dragged into this mess. To think she was only trying to visit her parents and it ended with her almost having a death sentence. All she was doing was telling her own opinion on this “prophet”. Before she knew it the authorities locked her up and sentenced her to death. Although thanks to her parents’ connections, she was given a second chance in life. They had begged her to join the army and so she did. It was the rare time they showed their love for her. It almost brought a tear to her eyes.
Oh how she loathed the situation. Somehow she survived that raid but that isn’t saying much for what she is going through. Can someone believe it!?! A pirate in Illia! IN ILLIA! Of all places she was ordered here! If there was any way for her to get out this army she would without hesitating! Her teeth continued to chatter as she took another drink out of her mug. The others continued to laugh about their victory, forgetting about their dead comrades already! She cursed under her breath.
“Now what do we have here?” a man said, holding out one of her dear books.
“Git yer dirty hans off o’ me book!” Cefia barked in the most threatening tone she had. There was laughing around the camp. They didn’t like her and she never pretended she did.
“Must be a pretty expensive book for a pirate to be carrying it around,” a mage remarked. The man holding her book refused to let it go and that was it! She charged at him, her weapons clanging on her back. With one foul swoop, she grabbed the man’s head and slammed it to the nearest solid object she could find. It just so happened to be the box where their captive was at. She could hear a crack, from the wood or the man’s skull, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t hard seeing as he was just an archer and one that didn’t know their manners it seemed. She gently plucked her book out of man’s hand and stuffed it in her pocket.
The others got up from their seat, yelling at her cursing at her!
“Don’t you know your life is in OUR hands to blasphemous pirate!” one of the higher ranked man said.
"Scumbag land luvvers," she said, loud enough for the group to hear.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 2, 2011 18:39:42 GMT -6
Richter stilled himself. He could hear a bit of commotion from outside. It was loud, or at least loud enough to carry over the storm. Sounded like fighting. Curious, the commander got to his knees and shuffled over to the front end of the box, but right as he was about to put his ear up against the wall, there was a loud bang just above his head, causing the the commander to flinch back as the wooden wall shivered slightly. There was a second's pause, in which Richter gently putting his ear up to the wall, before his captors begin yelling and screaming. He heard the word pirate a few times, something about blasphemy, and plenty of curse words. Was this par for the course among Etrurian loyals? Fights over blasphemy? Whatever the case, it seemed stupid, but it didn't sound like it was coming to blows. At least not beyond whatever struck the side of the cart.
Richter slumped back down, a bit disappointed. Infighting would have probably been his best chance out of here. After all, when people fight, the chance of a weapon going through the side of his wooden prison goes up astronomically.
The commander's stomach growled again. Good word, he was hungry!
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Post by Kynlis on Aug 2, 2011 18:46:08 GMT -6
Kynlis shivered. "Why did Grandpa have to travel to Ilia?" she whined to herself as she shivered. "Stupid merchants having to travel to make money..."
Her grandpa was a merchant who had picked her up about a year ago. He said he'd found her half-drowned at the bottom of a cliff in Ostia, wearing ragged leather armor. She was holding a broken bow with an empty quiver still tied to her belt. At first, he was afraid to take her in, but, seeing as she was unconscious and injured, his compassion won out.
Upon awakening, it was discovered that Kynlis couldn't remember anything of her past other than her name. The merchant had pondered that it was probably caused either by the fall from the cliff or from being half-drowned, r some combination of the two. When he showed her bow to her, Kynlis found that she was a decent shot, and felt some familiarity with the weapon.
Seeing as how she was pretty much helpless, he decided to take her in, raising her like one of his own. Bringing us to the present.
Kynlis was currently hunting, looking for something, anything, to bring back to the caravan her grandfather was part of when she heard voices. She shimmied her way to the edge of a hill and peeked over, seeing a group of rough looking men and a cart passing by. She was just in time to witness an altercation between two of the men. 'Wait, that one was a woman!' she thought, watching the woman reclaim her book.
So into watching was she, that the girl never noticed the man sneaking up behind her, until he grabbed her. "Wha-! Hey! Lemme go!" she said as she struggled, but was no match for the man. Her little struggle alerted the rest of the group to their presence.
"Hey, Jorge, whatcha got there?" one of the bandits leered.
"Just a little mouse spyin' on us," Jorge replied as he marched his new captive down the hill. "Feisty little thing she is, too."
The bandits shared a laugh. It was then the first bandit's stomach rumbled. "Let's stop 'ere fer now, get some grub." He glanced at the girl, seeming to get an idea. "She can be our new servin' wench," he said, indicating Kynlis, who paled. The bandits hooted and leered in agreement.
"Hey, we still need to feed this b*****d. Boss wants him alive for his punishment." He chuckled. "Wench, go an' give his lordship some o' this fine bread and water."
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Post by Cefia on Aug 2, 2011 19:27:11 GMT -6
Cefia only got a slap the face for her trouble it seemed. It wasn't even a hard one as only her head just moved to the side. That seemed to infuriate the boss more than the immobile injured fighter. That settles how much of a russ they were. Than came the news about the new "servant wench". It was never good news for her, she was above these filthy vermin in more ways than one. To call them a pig would be an insult to the animal. In farther inspection the girl appeared to be just a lass. Than again she was getting old, to be sure she would be a woman now at 25 years of age. The poor girl seemed absolutely terrified of the situation she got in. Great now they had two people to take care of her. Both of them are ones she trust more than these ignoramus.
"Don't ye worreh lass, I'll be sur dat none o' dese guys lay a finger on ye," she said in her most assuring way. She was most definitely serious here. The others glared at her, taunting her. They know if they push her enough she would go all out at them. Afterwards she would just be another enemy once again and sentenced to death at that! Taking some steps forward, she bent over and whispered to the girl's ear.
"I promise you..." she whispered in her normal voice, without a pirate accent to hear. Her regular noise was far from harsh and nowadays would definitely sound like a real woman or motherly to some.
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Post by Kynlis on Aug 2, 2011 19:44:27 GMT -6
Kynlis was reassured. At least someone here didn't seem to want to play around with her. "Thanks," she whispered back. "I'm Kynlis."
After giving her name, she walked over to the bandit who was seemed to be in charge of getting the meals ready, a tall stick of a man. Already in a bad mood because it was his turn at meals, he nearly snarled at the girl when she came to get the food for their captive. She idly wondered who this person was that needed to be locked in a cart with so many guards. He must be a really powerful warrior.
Shaking her head to clear the fantasy, she quickly grabbed the stale bread and waterskin the bandit threw at her. "Git on with it," he growled out.
Taking the food, she swiftly climbed to the back of the cart where there was a solid door with a massive beam across it. The bandit on guard gave a grunt as he levered it out of the way. Kynlis reached out, slowly opening the door, trying not to surprise the occupant.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 2, 2011 23:04:30 GMT -6
Richter couldn't hear much more over the storm after the initial yelling and fighting. Tempers had apparently calmed despite the fact that the store did not, and thus the voices of the Ilian commander's captors were reduced to little more than whispers over the harsh howls of the snowstorm. There was a chuckle or two, but ultimately the pink haired commander's sense of hearing was lost midst the murmurs.
Sighing, Richter returned to his sitting position and re-wrapped his cape about his neck in a futile effort to retain what heat he could. He knew he could be more miserable than he was right now, but hungry, cold, and injured, the commander didn't really care. Right now he just needed a way out.
A few minutes passed, what with Richter curled up in the center of his prison, when a clattering came from the door. Quickly, Richter became rapt with the door, his attention fully focused on the now moving aperture. His mind raced with ideas. This was his chance. Caught up in the storm, it would be easier for him to gain a surprise advantage.
The tall, pink haired man scuttled over next to the door as an outsider fiddled with it. Any second now, that door would open and Richter would have a single window of opportunity in which to move, so it was act or be acted upon.
It seemed like an eternity, but eventually the portal did begin to open. It was slow, however, and seemed doubtful, as if the person opening it really didn't want to. Were they afraid of him? Well, they were right to be.
Like a red flash, Richter gripped the already ajar door, ripping it open with great force, causing the solid wooden board to violently swing open and bang on the adjacent wall. He leaped from the wooden cart and with his arm extended swiped at the person who had been gracious enough to free him. To his great shock and surprise, the person he grabbed was none other than a young blond girl shivering in her boots. The odd sight meeting his eyes drew a half-second's pause from Richter, but tossing aside his bewilderment, he yanked the girl's body up against his own, placing one hand on her head; the other on her neck.
"Don't move, or I'll snap her neck!" the commander barked dangerously. It seemed extreme, yes, but Richter was a wounded captive in a cold, storm-wracked, desolate spit of Ilia surrounded by men who definitely wanted to see him dead for one reason or another. Now was no time for altruism. Not in the least.
Tensions high, Richter spat into the snow, a gesture easily missed in the middle of the frigid gale. He stared at his captors coldly and defiantly. "I have to say, for man hunters, you're doing a terrible job," sneered the commander, never one to miss a chance to critique. "At least chain your prisoners."
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Post by Cefia on Aug 3, 2011 8:12:45 GMT -6
Well the man was fast... They really should have considered chaining this guy! Now she feels like an idiot that they didn't. However it wasn't any of her fault. She was just following the orders, no matter what they were. His threats fell to empty ears as hers. Practically everyone else in the group was snickering and barely caring.
"Let be 'o th' lass if ye be knowin' whats jolly fer ye!" "She had nothin' to do wit' 'tis, just a 'ictim 'o coincidence!" "Hurt her 'n I swear to ye..."
The others seemed more surprised that she used a big word correctly than the abduction.
When she said her lines, a man had already started to move toward the guy. She knew a guy like him could be really serious and she wasn't about to break her promise. That and she was already boiling mad about the whole situation. Taking her steel axe she made a foul sweeping moment taking a few strides to him. He was caught by surprise as the blade went to one side and out the other. She was surprised herself, there goes her anger... She didn't mean to kill him.
"What the-" one of the man beside her remarked. There were curses blown to her and she couldn't help but curse herself for her own restraint.
"Kill the blasphemous ***********!" ordered the one in charge.
"This should be the last time the prophet be merciful!"
With that everyone drew their weapons. She backed up towards the one that was their captive, making sure her monocle was in a safe spot. Hopefully, she'll make it out today...Alive.
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Post by Kynlis on Aug 3, 2011 21:59:18 GMT -6
When the captive snatched her, Kynlis dropped the food and tried to struggle, but hearing him threaten to snap her neck froze her. Was she going to die? The bandits didn't seem to care that she was a hostage. What did it matter to them if she died? When the woman from before stood up for her, she felt somewhat reassured.
The next thing she knew, the woman had killed one of the bandits - accidentally if her fleeting look of surprise was anything to go by. And just like that, the bandits were turned against her. At this rate, they'd probably kill the woman, then her, and even maybe their prisoner.
Kynlis glanced around, looking for something, anything to help get her out of this and help the nice woman. It was then that she spotted a bow and a quiver full of arrows laying discarded next to the cart - dropped by the man the woman had thrown into the cart earlier.
"Hey mister," she spoke up, voice wavering a bit. "Let me go. I gotta help her. Please."
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 4, 2011 16:25:25 GMT -6
Richter's eyes widened in surprise as the green haired woman ran her axe clean through another one of his captors. The commander definitely didn't have a wonderful opinion of Etrurians or their ilk, but killing one of your companions over an escaped prisoner seemed a bit much. And by the way the bandits reacted, approaching the three of them with their weapons drawn, the commander didn't imagine that these two girls were all that valued by these low-lifes. Perfect. Of course they'd they get the "useless girl" to feed the prisoner. Richter apparently chose the worse possible hostage he could have.
Sighing with exasperation, the pink haired Ilian shoved the little blond girl over towards the green haired woman. Richter would make threats, but he wasn't going to let this gang of men slaughter these girls, even if they were his captors, and he definitely wasn't going to use one of them as a human shield. No, that was a line he wouldn't cross.
Richter analyzed the situation as the men drew closer, sneering and snarling with anger over the green haired axegirl's betrayal. There were thirteen of them, and they looked better equipped and better trained than most of the ruffian horde that had ambushed his men. At the same time, Richter was weaponless, partially unarmored, and still moderately wounded. He didn't exactly have an advantage. But he wasn't go to die here. No. These men would be the ones lying dead in the snow by the time this was done.
Then the first man lower his lance and, thrusting it forward, charged at the supposed-to-be-caged Ilian. Richter responded with a sidestep, evading the sharp, pointed end, and a down-swung fist to his assailant's elbow, forced the man's head down to a level at which he kneed him in the face. The man groaned, dropping his lance and clutching his face as he fell to his knees. With a small snarl, Richter then aimed a well placed kick to the side of the man's neck, sending him face first into the snow.
Spitting, the commander turned back to the Etrurians. "That's one," sneered Richter. A sharp twinge shot through his side, but he ignored it, merely waving the men towards him with his right hand. The pain wasn't close to as bad as it had been. "That wasn't even fun." The Ilian warrior held his hand out towards the girl with the thick accent. "Think you could loan me an axe?" He didn't bother taking his eyes off of his enemies, lest he give them an opening. "That is unless you want to end up like that man you cleaved up."
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Post by Cefia on Aug 4, 2011 16:45:51 GMT -6
Curse her and her lack of self control! Truthfully her old captains would probably be happy for her. They didn't know though, it was the cause of many of their demise. Fighting one on one was fine with her but a group of trained armed man was another. When she glanced over, the girl was pushed towards her. The group had already surrounded them to their best extent but it wasn't saying much.
The man they were supposed to keep captive seemed to be able to handle himself even in such a situation. She could see his skills as he beat one down barehanded. Than he had to ask for a weapon. His argument didn't have any holes for her. Using her free hand, she tossed over her spare axe.
It seemed that was enough for one of them to charge at her. His blade was pointed outwards but before she could sweep at him, she realized the tactic and quickly tried to lean over in one direction. The fire attack from the mage grazing her right shoulder while the blade nicked at her side. A part of her armor was scorched but that wasn't as bad as the thin drawing of blood. The wound wasn't deep and there was no time to pause for reprieve. She got up from herself and charged forward to her enemy, careful to keep tabs on her allies, especially the girl.
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Post by Kynlis on Aug 4, 2011 19:14:55 GMT -6
Kynlis was unprepared when the man shoved her towards the green haired woman. She stumbled, then fell to her knees. She turned around to give him a piece of her mind when she saw the man take down one bandit bare handed. 'Scary...' she thought. 'But that pink hair seems familiar...'
Shaking her head, she started inching back towards the cart. The girl seemed to be largely forgotten, almost all the bandits focusing on the two more threatening enemies. She was almost at the bow and arrows when she had to dive to the side to avoid a stray fire ball fired at the green haired woman.
Prize close at hand, Kynlis quickly snatched the weapon. Feeling slightly safer with a bow in hand, she turned to help out. She quickly drew and nocked an arrow, but took a moment to pick a target, settling on the mage from before. Long range was bad for the other two.
Loosing her arrow, she had aimed for the man's gut. Instinct told her to aim for the largest mass, less chance to miss. It was a good thing she did, too, because her arrow went high and took the mage in the shoulder mid spell, causing him to lose concentration and the spell to fizzle out.
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Post by Richter Abend on Aug 4, 2011 22:29:01 GMT -6
Richter grabbed the hand axe as it hopped from the girl's hand. The weapon wasn't exactly his forte, but hell, it had a blade on it and if he slammed it into someone's head, it would kill them. That's all he needed right now. He was thankful that, at least for now, he was allies with these two girls, if just for the fact that it was two less people he'd have to kill. It would have left a bad taste in his mouth.
The commander did not wait for any more men to come at him, instead taking the initiative himself. He lunged at the nearest man, surprised and stunned by Richter's speed, and with the axe raised at his side, Richter forcefully swung the wedged weapon into the side of his captor's head. There was a loud thwack as the metal slammed through flesh and bone. It splintered the man's skull, sending hot blood spurting from his brain cavity. The sound was sickening, but satisfying at the same time.
There was no time to relish, however, for as soon as Richter could see the lights leave his first victims eyes, another two men came to avenge their comrade's death; one from behind the first and another from the right. The first was quick, appearing from the snowstorm and bringing his sword down upon the Ilian commander, and was quick enough that Richter barely managed to pull his smaller, borrowed weapon out of his first assailants head in time to deflect the blow.
As he did this, the other man thrust his sword at the pink haired warrior's unprotected stomach. Not wanting to be skewered, the Abend dodged the attack and, swinging the hand-axe, brutally cut off the man's left hand. Fast on his feet, he then whirled around to finish off the frontal assaulter, only to spin face first into another strike aimed for his head. Again, Richter brought up his weapon in defense, redirecting the blow and pulling the man off balance, only to then drive the axe into the man's chest once, twice, three times, crushing his ribcage and most likely destroying an organ or two.
Richter, leaving a now-crippled opponent clutching his bloody stump in the red-stained snow, turned toward the rest of the bystanding men, a few of which already moving to oppose him, and lunged again. There was no time for grandstanding. He had to keep these men on the defensive to survive.
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Post by Cefia on Aug 5, 2011 5:30:53 GMT -6
Cefia paid no attention to her wound for now. The cold is worse than it could ever be. Now the trouble comes from that swordsman there. It wasn't going to be easy for her to counter, especially with the speed and steel. Yes, she'll have to do it her own way. She wasn't that pink haired menace after all, she was a pirate.
She took the opening the archer gave her to charge at the swordsman, switching the axe to her left hand. He wasn't going to expect this as his eyes was focused on her axe. When the axe went up he deflected it but was slammed into the chest and toppled over. Before he could get up, she gave him a good old headbutt. Sooner or later she'll knock her brains out if she kept at it. There was a groan but she didn't care, slicing at the man's neck while getting up from her position.
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Post by Kynlis on Aug 5, 2011 22:56:55 GMT -6
All the violence going on around her was causing Kynlis to shiver more than the cold ever could. The pink haired man was brutal, dispatching his foes mercilessly. The green haired woman, while not as ferocious as the man, seemed to have little trouble as well.
Her focus wandering was almost the end of her as the mage from before set his sight on her. A short incantation led to a fireball flying right at her. She managed to dive out of the way with a yelp. Dignity be damned, she wasn't going to die there!
Shakily, she nocked an arrow as she came out of her dive. She turned, aimed, and loosed in a slightly jerky motion. Unfortunately, the wind gusted especially hard right then, blowing her arrow away from the mage. Instead, it took an axe wielder attempting to blindside the pink haired warrior in the back.
'T-that was close,' she thought. 'I'll have to take better care when aiming if I don't want to cause any accidents.' Further thought was abandoned as she had to dodge another fireball. She must have really pissed of that mage.
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