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Post by Cefia on Oct 31, 2011 15:01:10 GMT -6
Cefia wasn't bound to make any sudden movements, her body was probably unable to handle it in the first place. She let out a deep hearty laugh, just like any pirate would do to help ease up the mood. It worked most of the time anyways.
"Nay, names Cefia though, 'n sorry but I dunno wha' exactly happened, 'ot th' memory knocked right out o' me head," she replied, pointing to her noggin where there appeared to be some left over blood from a hit to the head.
"Las' thin I member was sailin in th' Western Isles," she continued shaking her head.
"So lass, can ya help me out 'is mess?" she asked with all sincerity now slowly getting up from the spot. The injury caused her to stop and try to rest a few times before coming to her full height. Even then she felt that the girl was a little...shorter than her?
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 1, 2011 14:26:09 GMT -6
Clair watched as Cefia came to her feet. The green-haired pirate looked like she really had been through a lot. The wyvern had probably crashed on her, or something.... Something else occurred to Clair. She was looking up. Damn! Everyone was taller than she was. Except when she sat atop her own pegasus, Corona, who she'd left back with the main army.... She hoped he recovered from his injuries. He was being given the best care they could provide.
Western Isles? So she was a pirate. And with the way she was moving, her story of having the memory "knocked right out of her" looked to be able to fit. The Falcoknight had heard of a few cases of that before. She decided to trust. She took a bite out of the wyvern meat, unsure whether she should feel ashamed for eating someone's dead mount or not. Out here in Illia though, anything dead was meat.
"Well, first of all, it's not Lass." Clair said, a slight grin on her face as she finished the first bite. "It's Commander. Commander Clair Feldsky." ... The meat really did taste delicious, she thought to herself, as she spoke. A hint of spice, and some smoke. Cooked over an open fire. Perhaps she ought to have some of the troops come out here, and drag it back to their encampment for their dinner.
"Second of all, I think I can be of some help to you, Cefia, if you can be of help to me. First of all, I want to know if the rider of this wyvern is still nearby. It's important." The entire situation here was an odd one. Anything that could shed more light on the situation would be helpful.... And that meat tasted really good....
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Post by Cefia on Nov 1, 2011 14:53:23 GMT -6
Cefia was glad that the woman was willing to help her out. It might have been better if she had spoke more elegantly rather than a pirate. It worked and the woman didn't seem all that surprised that a pirate was here in the first place.
"Aye, me help, 'is a way," she said, using the wyvern to support herself a bit. She would be glad to help her out and maybe shed some light to why she was here in the first place. With that, she moved to where she found the dead corpse which she assumed was the rider's. It seemed the snow has already covered up a portion of the body.
She bent over and brushed off the top layer. The body appeared long dead by this time. The poor man appeared to have been teared apart by some vicious creature. The neck was definitely teared off as well as other portions of unprotected flesh. Wait...did she do this? I so for what reasons.
"Here be ye 'e dead," she pointed at the body, while trying to stand on her own.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 3, 2011 23:16:04 GMT -6
The Falcoknight stabbed her lance into the ground roughly, and crossed her arms over her chest. She was looking at the corpse of the wyvern rider, only a few steps away from Cefia.
"Well.... He certainly had a bad day." She commented flatly, looking down at the mangled body. It was an understatement, of course. She'd seen this kind of destruction before though. Not often, but it had occurred some. At the moment, she was more interested in the rider's armor. It definitely did not match with the Bernese they'd fought earlier.
"I don't think he's Bernese. The armor's all different. This looks closer to Etrurian designs." Clair remembered her own Etrurian armor. Still an excellent piece of work, but heavier, and more restrictive in movement than her current set.
"Well, fair's fair. You should come back with me, to the town we're sheltering at tonightl Cefia. Protection from the elements, some medical attentions...." Clair paused, looking over the injured pirate. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard of a pirate ship landing in Illia. Here was one who'd turned up hurt, in the wreckage of a crashed wyvern though.
"There's a chance you might remember something about what you were doing here too. What do you say? By the way, I should probably give you your dinner back, before I eat it all." There was a hint of a smirk on Clair's face as she held out the chunk of wyvern meat Cefia had cooked over the fire.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 4, 2011 14:55:24 GMT -6
Derick admired his handiwork. He had finished off all of the fallen soldiers in the streets, and he had amassed a full suit of armor in the process! He had gotten lucky when he found a soldier who was the same height and weight as he was who had been headshotted by an arrow. Miraculously, all of the blood had spattered onto the man's armor, so Derick had a clean change of clothes! As he set about buckling on his new gear, he looked out across the blinding plains and saw a figure lying in the saint-white snow.
He frowned quizzically as he rose to his feet, he thought he had covered all of the dead, but apparently not. He plodded through the snow towards the figure as he admired his new gear. It fit perfectly, and Derick had found no shortage of suitable armor. Regardless, he had forgone obtaining a new shield and left shoulder plate. Despite being trained to rely on them, he found he performed better without them, he grabbed one of each though, just in case.
The body was charcoal black, staining the innocence of the bed of snow it lay on. Derick readied his lance as he approached the body, his eyes narrowed as he aimed the tip towards the body's neck. He sucked in a breath, and stamped on the figure's hand, same as he had done with a dozen bodies before. That was something he learned in training, a light nudge is easy to ignore, a bruised or broken hand wasn't. There was no response, but Derick was no fool, he stomped on the hand again, making contact with the heel of his marching boots and twisting it sharply. He heard a light crunch and grinding as the hand broke, still no response, this man was dead. He dug his lance tip under the body, and flipped it over using the lance staff as a lever. He gasped as the vacant eyes of the body stared into his.
It was the man without a cloak, Derick stared thinking hard, His was...Darren? David? Dallas? Derick shook his head, he couldn't remember. He did recall that this was the man who had lead him for a short time, Derick had tried to assure him about the cold, but the man hadn't really been listening to him anyways. Regardless of relationship, this man was an ally, Derick wondered if Clair was already aware of this development. He stood by the body for another minute, he wasn't quite sure how to proceed...but...one had to recycle resources, right? He knelt by the body, wincing as he noticed the ashen quality of the corpse's skin. His hands moved unsteadily as he ran them down the front of the body's clothing, and he responded to lump in one of the pockets with a sharp intake of breath.
Nervously, he unfastened the pocket and reached inside...it was...a bottle? Derick pulled it out and examined the dark, golden liquid. Derick examined it carefully, Vulnerary, perhaps?...no...this is too dark...medicine...or something else? Derick wasn't sure, so he set the bottle to his side for now. A little further down, he found another bottle, this one only half full, and laid it next to the other one. Derick made it to the man's waist and stopped at the belt. He busied himself with unstrapping it. The buckle was already frozen fast, but the leather had already been significantly torched, Derick gave the buckle a forceful tug, and the belt, along with the corpse's sheath, came right off.
Derick laid his hands on the sheath first. It was simply constructed, made of leather and only lightly torched. There was no blade in it, Derick instinctively looked up from it and scoured the snow with his eyes, he found a likely indent a dozen feet away and mentally noted the position. His eyes returned to the belt, he saw nothing else, and was about to toss it aside when he heard a faint jingle. Gold.
Derick's brow creased as he appraised the belt. There was no pouch for gold, like he had, and he was about to give it up as his imagination when his fingers ran across an irregularity. He held it closer, squinting to get a good look. There was an ingenius pouch on the inside of the belt, woven right with the belt so that it was practically invisible. Derick's fingers fumbled with the lump, there was a small click at one end, and Derick tipped the pouch carefully into his hand. A wealth of gold, or at least a wealth in his eyes, fell into his outstretched palm. He counted it quickly, 405 gold! With a wide grin, he grabbed his own pouch and tipped his hand into the opening.
Derick's work was done here, he grabbed the sheath and bottles before standing up and crossing to the indent he had noticed earlier, it was indeed the missing sword. It fit perfectly within the sheath, but Derick couldn't wield it, maybe Clair or Garith would want it, or maybe he'd sell it. Regardless, there was one last thing to do. He walked over to the corpse, muttered his thanks for the resources, and said a prayer under his breath as he passed his hand over the corpse's burnt face, shutting its eyes for the last time.
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Post by Cefia on Nov 4, 2011 16:41:30 GMT -6
"Aye, preciate 'he help la- Commander," she said, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Keep the meat, me treat!" she continued before letting out a sigh of relief. Then that was when she remembered one of the most important items for her. She needed to find her monocle! There was no way she can read without it! Books often had tiny letters after all. With that she began to pat herself down, looking to find whatever pocket she could in the clothing she had on.
It crossed her mind that she wasn't wearing her usual items and weaponless at that but she was more worried about other things like her monocle. She did take out a book but the title was too small to read. Letting out a sigh she was about to give up until she found a small pocket. It seemed to have been made for her and what did you know! Her monocle was there!
"Ready when ye are!" she said, putting her monocle on to get a good view of the commander as well as making sure it was in place. She was the monocle wearing pirate as always!
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 7, 2011 20:41:34 GMT -6
"Alright then." Clair said, leaning her lance against her shoulder for a moment and dusting her hands off. "Gather up whatever you have, and then we'll work on getting you up."
Clair gave a quick whistle, and the young pegasus nearby lifted its head to look at the source of the noise. The winged mare looked a bit shy as she approached, but let her rider rub her face a bit. With the pegasus calmed, Clair pulled herself up, and fastened her killer lance next to the iron lance she'd salvaged from the battle earlier.
On more thought, Clair really knew nothing about this person. Not more than that she was in a rough situation, with injuries, out in the cold, at least. The Falcoknight wondered if being this trusting was wise....
"Cefia, you'll have to climb up behind me. Can you do that?" If the answer was no, Clair really didn't know what they'd do. Well, not true. It would mean she'd fly back to the camp, and bring the healer back with her, but the day wouldn't last forever, and she wanted to get back to camp.
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Post by Cefia on Nov 7, 2011 20:45:44 GMT -6
Cefia grimaced as she made her way towards the pegasus. She checked what she could and found that there was nothing of value to her. She looked the winged horse up and down, trying to decide on how to get up such a beast, she somehow managed to do so by scrambling up. It worked out somehow.
" 'preciate the help," she said, tucking her monocle into that secret pocket she found out about.
"Ready when ye ar!"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 7, 2011 21:12:10 GMT -6
The pegasus Clair was on wasn't so sure of things once the green-haired pirate lady began approaching. Clair sympathized with it, but only barely. She wasn't used to such a chicken-heart pegasus. Cefia did eventually make it up though.
"Hang onto me, so you don't fall off." Clair told the woman, before, trotting the pegasus into the face of the wind. They were off, getting ready to take to the skies. The pegasus leapt and spread its wings, giving a strong whoosh to the surrounding area. Snow kicked up, and was blown along by the wind, but they still almost crashed back down to the earth. The second downward thrust of the wings had them skyborne though. The wind was carrying them now.
Clair let out a breath she'd not known she was holding. Corona would never have had this sort of trouble getting into the air. He was just bigger and stronger though. More suited the flight, with his massive wings..... This pegasus was turning out to be a pain for one so used to having no issue with power.
Clair reoriented their flight path to take a direction towards the rising column of smoke in the distance. They were a ways away, but it wouldn't take more than a few minutes by air to reach the burned out town. Clair remained silent as they went.
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Post by Cefia on Nov 8, 2011 17:03:09 GMT -6
Cefia now has time to figure out her situation here. So she was being saved by someone she doesn't know and of some authority by the way she addressed herself as a Commander. This doesn't give her a good position to work out of. It was quite obvious that she made herself out to be a pirate.
"So Commander, wha' be ye reason fer bein' here?" she asked not meaning to make the whole situation awkward or give her too much time to figure out what she really was. It really didn't matter, she would be found out sooner or later.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 8, 2011 20:03:34 GMT -6
Derick tried to make himself useful to the other men. They had set about clearing out houses, respectfully laying the dead citizenry side by side and covering them with blankets, while ungraciously tossing the Bernese soldiers into a messy heap. Derick felt nothing for these men as he gazed upon the pile. It was strange, a month ago, he was ready to fight at Bern's command...but after the incident with his sergeant, and now this skirmish...He just wanted to find his own way.
A light fluttering sound caught his ear, and he turned into wind. Through the light curtains of drifting snow, he could barely make out a pegasus in the sunset sky. That was probably Clair returning, good. "Hey, can you give me a hand over here?" It was one of the allies, he was struggling with a particularly large soldier. "Sure, no problem." Derick's boots made light imprints in the snow as he hastily went to the soldier's aid. His hands grasped the soldier's ankles, and together they heaved the soldier onto the pile of enemies. "Thanks," the soldier walked away without making eye contact with Derick. They still didn't trust him, which was understandable. Derick called after the soldier, "of course!" Derick shivered a bit as he sat by a small, temporary fire for warmth, the night was going to be cold. Sorrow and dread invaded a small space of his mind as he waited to deliver the news of...Demetri...Dart...that guy's death to Clair.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 8, 2011 20:46:56 GMT -6
The Falcoknight heard Cefia ask what they were doing out here, and thought over whether to answer or not. There didn't seem to be any reason to avoid telling the woman. They were out here looking for Richter.... That was the only reason. Clair could hide from it all she wanted to. It didn't change the fact that things were looking hopeless for finding him. She'd decided that Etruria was the most likely place he would be, but that hardly meant they'd be able to retrieve him.
At the same time, the thought of turning away from the search seemed unbearable. She was behaving as though if she kept on searching, she was guaranteed to find him again. Finding him gone from the army on her return had left a pit of pain in her that she wasn't ready to accept. In fact, the pain was older than that, stemming from before they'd arrived in Edessa. She'd decided she loved Richter completely then, but once the decision to seek him out had been made, every attempt at speaking to him privately had been blocked by some business or other. Now she was left with nothing but the pain, and the responsibilities she'd inherited from him.... This was what war was.
She felt a tear begin to roll down her cheek, and quickly reached up to wipe it away.
"...Search and rescue. We're trying to find someone. Do you remember seeing any wyverns flying southwards? The one I found you by was probably part of the group I'm looking for."
The Falcoknight tried to disguise wiping her tears away by tucking some of her long blond hair back behind an ear as they flew closer to the town's ruins. It hadn't been anywhere near this long when she'd first met Richter. Oh Gods, I can't stop thinking about him. I'm looking, Richter. Please don't die.
It took some doing, but Clair was able to contain herself, even if she did seem a bit more glum than she normally allowed herself to appear when on duty. The wind skating across them as they flew felt appropriate to the blond-haired Falcoknight's mood.
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Post by Cefia on Nov 8, 2011 21:14:35 GMT -6
Cefia was partially listening to Clair's reason but the flying was really causing her to feel...sick! Sick right to the stomach. This was going as well as she planned. Was this the first time she flew? She really can't remember the trip with the wyvern so other than that, probably. Flying seemed so amazing in the books but it was horrifying in real life.
"Aye aye," she said as if she was hearing what Clair was saying.
"Landin soon? 'he sky isn as fair as 'he waters me see," she said feeling sicker and probably sounding so as well. It was funny, she can take the motions of the sea but not that of a flying beast? She would laugh at her situation if she wasn't so sick.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 9, 2011 10:38:08 GMT -6
Clair turned her head slightly to look back at her passenger, was greeted by the sight of Cefia's face nearly matching the color of her hair, figuratively speaking. Some of her words made it nearly indecipherable to Clair, but she got the idea. It was just enough to help break her out of her sad stupor. On looking back ahead, she could see they were about to arrive back at town. Not a moment too soon.
"Hah... you sea types might pride yourselves on your balance, and sea legs, but the sky is my turf." It was true however, that this pegasus was a bumpy ride. At least, when compared with Corona. Her smaller frame and wings simply didn't afford the stability that Corona had given.... Reluctantly, the blond-haired Falcoknight was beginning to understand why pegasus knights weren't considered particularly threatening most of the time. Even if the rider was unparalleled in skill, the typically smaller size of the pegasus would always cut back on potential. Clair hadn't known how fortunate she was to have had Corona. He'd let her simply blugeon her way through dangers until she managed to develop some accompanying skills.
"We're descending now." She told the green-haired woman as they started an easy glide down to the center of town. "If you throw up on me, I'll have you cleaning my armor and tack spotless tonight."
Looking around, she could see that a few of the buildings nearby had been set up for an overnight stay. Whatever was easily usable had been taken for their own use. There was even a fire, and the smell of meat warming over the fire. It was homey for an Illian war party on the march. The only true damper on the situation were the piles of Bernese scattered not far from group. And, of course.... the dead townspeople. War had struck again.
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Post by Cefia on Nov 9, 2011 15:32:38 GMT -6
Cefia was glad to be on land, somehow she managed to withstand the urge to vomit what little she had in her body while up in the air. Right after her feet touched land, she bent over and relieved herself of the contents. Great, now she was hungry again and thirsty.
"Aye, no ma'ch fo' a flyer," she said over to the woman. With that she gave another lurch and threw up some more.
"No worries, I won't cause no trouble," she said before making her way to scout out something to help with. She didn't like to be a leech ...
"Whar can a pirate get somethin' t' drink 'roun here?" she asked out loud to no one in particular.
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