Iorran (Tirion)
The "Before" years
[M:5]
Only united will we find salvation.
Posts: 88
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Post by Iorran (Tirion) on Aug 3, 2011 11:03:30 GMT -6
Aez looked at Sextimus, smiling softly. So it seemed he wasn't entirely willing to just leave them be and go on his way. Maybe he'll stay after all. Or maybe not. It was up to Tim, but Aez hoped he would stay. He knew his son would rather not lose any members of his fellowship. He wouldn't impose any punishment upon Tim, but he would surely be disappointed. The aging norricman held out a hand to stop Sextimus, however.
"Not like that. I don' t'ink Tirion would like his boots bein' dragged across tha road. Grab his feet. The man's stiff enough that he should be easy ta carry like this. Like movin' new furniture inta yer home!"
It was then that Zeran approached Aez. The old man wondered how he knew his name when the two had never before met. He just assumed he was among the several new additions that stood around him. Aez listened to the boy's tale and scratched his bearded chin.
"Can't say I heard o' that before. But it would explain tha sleepwalkin'." Aez hefted his son up and made a motion with his head towards the inn across the street, "We'll talk 'bout it in tha mornin'. Ye all need sleep fer the journey ahead."
Tirion continued to lay down on the dead bodies. He felt eyes on his back as the gaul soldiers stomped around searching for survivors. He froze himself stiff as he heard a man with a norric accent mumble to his left. The soldiers standing just above him walked over to the noise and a short conversation took place before the sound of an axe cutting flesh. Tirion winced in horror at the man's cries of pain which were quickly cut off by the severing of his head.
The young norric soldier did everything he could not to shake from fear as the gaul soldiers finally passed over him. Tirion turned his head to look around for any others. When he saw none, he cautiously rolled off the pile and, grabbing his sword and a nearby shield, did his best to make an escape. The blood soaked boy sprinted behind piles of bodies, avoiding soldiers as best as he could. While ducked under a body pile, however, he felt a presence behind him. The young soldier whipped around, sword drawn, to face the soldier and fight for his life when he saw a boy roughly his age with long black locks done up in a ponytail. He held a spear and looked just as horrible as Tirion did.
"Cray!" cried Tirion as he embraced his best friend. Tears of both fear and relief streamed from his eyes, "Oh, Cray, it's horrible here. We need ta get home!"
"I know, Tirion, I know. But ye have ta get a hold o' yerself. All that cryin' is gonna attract gauls."
Tirion wiped his eyes and nodded. The two continued to make their way out of the battlefield. Unfortunately, it wasn't Tirion's blubbering that attracted a pair of soldiers to them, but Cray's novice handling of his spear. After all, a long wooden pike waving around from behind a pile fo dead bodies wasn't exactly a sign that everyone in the pile was dead.
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Sextimus
The "Before" years
[M:0]
There was a beauty in that, one Tim did not fully understand. But that was ok, he felt it.
Posts: 28
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Post by Sextimus on Aug 6, 2011 22:32:41 GMT -6
Tim met the burly Sacaen with a pair of wearied eyes. He had this look about him. It was warm, and proud. Tim had only ever seen that kind of face a few times. His father had worn that face before. Yes, he'd carried it on the day Leontius had taken up his first mercenary job, and the day Cato had returned home with her first successful business deal. His mom had worn a similar face the first day that Antonidas and Anastasia showed their affinities for their respected steeds. While a bit of angst penetrated his thoughts, he was overall glad to receive the Norric-man's smile. He wore a meek smirk only to quickly wip it from his face.
He quivered at Aez' orders, meeting the large man's gaze again. "O, oh.. right." He slid out of the unconscious Tirion's arm. He dipped down, taking a hold of the unconscious giant's legs. He tried to bolt back up, only to meet a weight of which he'd never anticipated. He jerked up, losing all of the wind in his got as if he'd been hit in the back with a massive, blunt object. It wasn't neceassrily that Tim was a fellow with low-uber body strength, it was more so that he'd merely underestimated the son's leg strength. Tim shook his head and wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead. He puffed out a strong exhale and, with renewed vigor tore Tirion's legs from the earth. He grunted and squinted, wondering how much of Tirion's weight he was carrying. "Like this?" He queried inquisitively
His eyes darted about, dancing on the father and the recently recruited thief. His distrust and suspicions of the thief were still high, but were eased when he expressed concern for Tirion's well-being. Wow, the burly warrior had gone through all of that? It sounded as if Tirion had been possessed by an unholy demon, not fallen into a blissful sleepwalk. The timid archer felt a tinge of regret for pulling out his weapons on the stricken doppelganger.
He was still rather surprised that he'd had the gall to pull his weapons on the Sacaen. He'd never even pointed his bow at another human being, he'd wanted to lot a lot of times, but he'd never really had that one push which brought him to bring his weapons to bear. It was almost surreal. He had never thought that he could do that, but it turned out that all he needed was an imposing foe, bearing down on him. With that realization aside, Tim started to wonder. What would have happened if Aez hadn't held Tirion back? What he have truly would have shot at the burly Sacaen. Did he have what it took to harm another human, even if it was in defense? He wasn't sure, there was still too much of a foggy doubt in his mind. Even so, he was glad that he didn't find out. Shooting Aez's son would have put him in much hotter water.
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Zeran
The "Before" years
[M:0]
"Life's much easier when you have two coins to rub together. Good thing I have plenty!"
Posts: 14
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Post by Zeran on Sept 25, 2011 10:29:29 GMT -6
((Well, this is a fine kettle of fish... Oh well, if Tirion continues the story then I'll try to pop back in, but for now...CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!))
Zeran took only two steps before hearing a running of footsteps in his direction, and his cloak being grabbed from behind, almost in a tired sort of manner. Turning his head, Zeran found a familiar young man grabbing the side of his cloak, panting heavily from exhaustion. He knew the boy from somewhere, but he couldn't place where exactly. However, he hoped it was only a mistake that this boy had went after him rather than someone else in the group. Though these hopes vanished as soon as the boy said, "Zeran...help...us..." between ragged breaths.
Eyes wide, Zeran now knew who he was looking at, and clutched the boy's shoulder as he turned, coming down a foot to be on eye level with him. "Richard, what the hell are you doing here, I left only a week ago." Breathing raggedly, the boy tried his best to get out a few words while trying to calm down, "Salum is...back. He hired...bandits to...ransack the town...and get his money back." Groaning, Zeran raised his free hand to his head. He never expected the coward to go so far, especially with how much Zeran has drained from his wealth when he had been there only a week ago. Sadly, going along with this, especially since Salum knew Zeran by face and description.
"I'm sorry, Rich, but I can't help with that. Going now would be suicide, and he likely knows that you're gone. Besides, I work in theft, not combat. I won't be able to fight for you against a group of bandits, especially one large enough to overwhelm the town guards." Standing, Zeran led him forward. "For now, come in and get some rest. I'm leaving tomorrow anyways for a new job that my skills are necessary in."
As Zeran tried to pull Richard into the inn, he met some weak, though determined, resistance to his efforts, and heard something he definitely didn't want to hear. "But what of Miss Isabel! Salum is planning to have her executed by the bandits for her treachery within the next two weeks! You and her had 'relations', didn't you! Don't you love her?!" Stopping in his tracks, Zeran looked down at the ground, gritting his teeth. He had found out. He had discovered that it was Isabel who had commisioned Zeran for the task of overthrowing her uncle. And his response was more ruthless than he had expected, executing his daughter...and if these bandits were allowed to do anything else to her.
Turning to see Richard, he now had tears streaming down his face, begging him to come back. Coming back down to eye level with him, Zeran said. "Go to my room and get some sleep. Second floor, second room on the left. We'll leave in the morning. I have some things to take care of." Smiling, Richard nodded furiously and ran into the inn. Looking over to Aez, he called out. "Sorry, but I'll have to cancel my promise with Tirion for the time being." Walking back into the tavern, Zeran would retrieve his tome and return back to the inn for rest he would need for tomorrow's journey.
>>Exit>>
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Iorran (Tirion)
The "Before" years
[M:5]
Only united will we find salvation.
Posts: 88
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Post by Iorran (Tirion) on Dec 8, 2011 7:28:15 GMT -6
OOC: I've apologized several times for disappearing and I'll do it again. I'm sorry. This will be the proper ending to the thread.
Aez looked at Zeran's disappearing form with a twinge of disappointment. Still, the most unexpected things tended to happen around his son. The aging man hefted Tirion back to their room with Sextimus' help.
"Aye, there ye go, lad. I thank ye fer helpin' this old man. Now go on and get some sleep." Aez ordered as he began to untie his boots. The door closed as Sextimus left and the room fell silent. But the silence was an uneasy one. The old man looked up from his boots for a moment, his bones nearly shivering from an odd feeling he had that his son and himself were not the only ones in the room. Standing up, Aez drew the old blade beside his bed and looked around for what he figured was a hiding thief trapped in their room.
"Show yerself. I ain't just some ol' man, yer gonna have ta fight me if'n ye want me belongin's!" the aging norricman stepped lightly around until he found himself facing his back to the open window. It was then that he felt movement behind him, but before he could turn around to see what it was a curved blade was at Aez's throat.
"Yer belongin's are piss, old man. But tha rewards Halford has fer ye and yer son aren't." Aez's heart jumped as he attempted to spin around and parry the knife to his neck. But the rogue behind him was far faster than he. By the time the old man was able to face the assailant, he already had his weapon sheathed and a bag in his hand. The bag was familiar to Aez. The old man's eyes widened as he reached for his pouches around his belt, realizing one was missing.
"Finely pounded dust made from fadebloom stems. At this concentration, one dash, if inhaled, could render one stiff as a board fer hours. Powerful stuff, old man." the mystery man pulled the mask from his nose and mouth and blew into the pile of dust in the bag. Aez attempted to cover his nose and mouth, but the assailant jumped down from the window sill and punched him in the gut. The old man coughed and forcibly inhaled as the wind was knocked out of him. Replacing his mask, the rogue patted Aez on the back.
"Time ta go see yer old friend, Aez Aonghal." the man said mockingly as he sneered through his green cloth mask. Aez struggled to move, but found his body unable to respond. He bellowed for Tirion to wake up, but no words came. It was soon after that the assailant brought some sleeping salts to Aez's nose. Unable to control his own breathing, the old man drifted to an uneasy, nightmare-filled sleep.
OOC too: And that's when everyone leaves. Thread closed.
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