Nightmares on the Plains
Dec 9, 2011 6:54:01 GMT -6
Post by Iorran (Tirion) on Dec 9, 2011 6:54:01 GMT -6
OOC: Seeing as most of this takes place in Tirion's subconscious, I'm gonna go ahead and say that I don't want anyone else in here. As always, italics means it's in a dream.
"Careful, ye git!" the hooded and masked figure whispered to his robed compatriot. The darkness that came just before dawn shrouded the two enough to not be noticed by anyone still awake, "Don' knock 'im 'round like that!"
The robed man, obviously not used to physical work judging by his scrawny build, sighed as he struggled to pull the large body stuffed into a woven bag into the wagon the two stood behind.
"I know, but they're so heavy! Why can't Bronh do this?"
The hooded man looked over at the gates of Bulgar. The gates they were preparing to leave through. The most physically suited member of their team to be doing this work was supposed to be there by then.
"He's got his own job ta do. Look, Gheln, I'll help ye. We need ta get ready soon. T'ain't too long before tha guards will be out. We don' have long after that."
The hooded man picked up the other end of the body bag and helped Gheln slide it into the wagon next to another nearly identical bag. As the two closed the back of the wagon, the masked man looked to the wall. His eyebrow cocked as he watched torches go out one by one.
"Just in time. Let's go." the hooded rogue whispered. The two of them ran to the head of the wagon and Gheln took the reigns connected tow a pair of mares. With a snap of the reigns and a soft vocal urging, the horses trotted up to the wall. As the wagon reached the large wooden gate, it opened as if obeying their wishes. The wagon made it's way through the gate which closed behind them. A loud crunch was heard accompanied by the entire wagon rocking as the largest member of the group landed on the top. He was followed by the soft landing of a fiery haired woman behind him.
"Miss us, boyos?" she casually inquired.
"Aye. Now get back there an' work yer magic, Aryn." Aryn frowned at her leader's apathy and need to get to business. She always found that work should be made fun, but he only got enjoyment from a job well done. Well, that and a bit of banter with his target. The woman sighed and opened the wagon's back. With an acrobatic flair, she hopped into the wagon's interior as Bronh sat down on top of it.
"I'm an apothecary, not some magician." Aryn grumbled to herself, "Magic, he calls it. No way some fire flingin' mage can do this."
The red haired woman knelt down above the bags and untied one. As she let out the head of the man inside, she was struck by what she saw. A mane of hair as flaming as her own and a beard to match upon his proud jaw. She recognized this man.
"Tirion... it's really ye, ain't it?" the woman whispered. She placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed. An old drinking partner, one that went missing nearly a year ago, just so happened to be her target. Aryn was sought after to work her potions and incenses for the bidding of her employer. It was often that this bidding wasn't just, but she was skilled at ignoring the motives of her client and simply care about getting paid. This time, though, "Why'd it have ta come ta this? There's no way I can do this, now. Or maybe..."
Aryn had been hired by Halford to capture two potential insurgents and use a special concoction to wipe their minds. Make them a blank slate for him to fill with loyalty and obedience to his new order in Mullingard. She hated the man and what he wanted her to do, but he was to pay her and her crew handsomely. But now the job became personal. However, Aryn couldn't reveal herself to be traitorous. She would lose her head for that.
So, Aryn quickly thought up a plan. She produced a small wooden block with a concave valley carved out in which she then placed a small metal bowl. From her pouches, the apothecary produced a vial of oil. The compound was similar to her memory wiping potion, but not as strong. It gave the same effects, but such effects were only temporary and would wear off in a few months. Aryn wrapped her scarf over her nose and mouth and heated the oil in a small cauldron. Once it began to smoke, she poured it into the metal bowl and made sure none would spill on the bumby road by nestling it between two bags. Finally, she opened the other body bag, not recognizing the face, but assuming the man to be related to Tirion somehow.
The apothecary opened the wagon and climbed back to the roof, closing them afterwards.
"It is done. Don' go in there 'til nightfall lest ye wish ta lose yer memories, too."
-----
Tirion stepped lightly through the piles of bodies in the conquered battlefield. Unfortunately, he and his best friend, Cray, were on the losing side. Hiding from the gaul soldiers proved to be a daunting task. They knew that, if spotted, they would be executed on the ground they stood upon. A terrified young man, Tirion did all he could to not shake as he and Cray wade their way out of possible danger. But it was not Tirion that gave the two boys away that day.
A nearby pair of gaul soldiers patrolling for survivors spotted a long, broken pike moving from behind a pile of dead soldiers.
"Alright, you, there! The norric pikeman! Come on out an' face yer death like a man!" one of the soldiers barked. The two boys jumped at the sudden shout. They looked at each other and silently decided to run for their lives. Tirion and Cray, using what little strength they had left, bolted in the opposite direction. The two soldiers yelled again and gave chase.
The boys ran for what felt like miles and were only barely able to elude their pursuers. That was until another pair of patrolling soldiers spotted the chase and ran ahead, cutting them off. The boys looked at each other again, both with looks of terror and acceptance of their fates. But then came a muffled voice from beneath the piles of bodies around them.
"Ye'll not touch them!" it bellowed. Out burst the largest man either of the two boys had ever seen. His long black hair was braided in sections and tied behind his head and his long mutton chops gave him the look of a wild beast. The behemoth of a man sent his meaty hands edge first into the necks of the two pursuers. An audible snap was heard before the two soldiers fell limp on the ground. The beastly man turned to the other two soldiers and roared like a lion whilst impaling them on their former comrades' pikes.
When the new ally turned to look at the boys, Tirion recognized him.
"Commander Bronh! Yer alive!" Tirion flung himself on his superior, tears in his eyes. The giant pushed him away and knelt down.
"Aye. But we've best be leavin' if'n ye want it ta stay that way." Tirion and Cray nodded as they were scooped up and carried off at a speed that was surprising for the man's size.
"Careful, ye git!" the hooded and masked figure whispered to his robed compatriot. The darkness that came just before dawn shrouded the two enough to not be noticed by anyone still awake, "Don' knock 'im 'round like that!"
The robed man, obviously not used to physical work judging by his scrawny build, sighed as he struggled to pull the large body stuffed into a woven bag into the wagon the two stood behind.
"I know, but they're so heavy! Why can't Bronh do this?"
The hooded man looked over at the gates of Bulgar. The gates they were preparing to leave through. The most physically suited member of their team to be doing this work was supposed to be there by then.
"He's got his own job ta do. Look, Gheln, I'll help ye. We need ta get ready soon. T'ain't too long before tha guards will be out. We don' have long after that."
The hooded man picked up the other end of the body bag and helped Gheln slide it into the wagon next to another nearly identical bag. As the two closed the back of the wagon, the masked man looked to the wall. His eyebrow cocked as he watched torches go out one by one.
"Just in time. Let's go." the hooded rogue whispered. The two of them ran to the head of the wagon and Gheln took the reigns connected tow a pair of mares. With a snap of the reigns and a soft vocal urging, the horses trotted up to the wall. As the wagon reached the large wooden gate, it opened as if obeying their wishes. The wagon made it's way through the gate which closed behind them. A loud crunch was heard accompanied by the entire wagon rocking as the largest member of the group landed on the top. He was followed by the soft landing of a fiery haired woman behind him.
"Miss us, boyos?" she casually inquired.
"Aye. Now get back there an' work yer magic, Aryn." Aryn frowned at her leader's apathy and need to get to business. She always found that work should be made fun, but he only got enjoyment from a job well done. Well, that and a bit of banter with his target. The woman sighed and opened the wagon's back. With an acrobatic flair, she hopped into the wagon's interior as Bronh sat down on top of it.
"I'm an apothecary, not some magician." Aryn grumbled to herself, "Magic, he calls it. No way some fire flingin' mage can do this."
The red haired woman knelt down above the bags and untied one. As she let out the head of the man inside, she was struck by what she saw. A mane of hair as flaming as her own and a beard to match upon his proud jaw. She recognized this man.
"Tirion... it's really ye, ain't it?" the woman whispered. She placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed. An old drinking partner, one that went missing nearly a year ago, just so happened to be her target. Aryn was sought after to work her potions and incenses for the bidding of her employer. It was often that this bidding wasn't just, but she was skilled at ignoring the motives of her client and simply care about getting paid. This time, though, "Why'd it have ta come ta this? There's no way I can do this, now. Or maybe..."
Aryn had been hired by Halford to capture two potential insurgents and use a special concoction to wipe their minds. Make them a blank slate for him to fill with loyalty and obedience to his new order in Mullingard. She hated the man and what he wanted her to do, but he was to pay her and her crew handsomely. But now the job became personal. However, Aryn couldn't reveal herself to be traitorous. She would lose her head for that.
So, Aryn quickly thought up a plan. She produced a small wooden block with a concave valley carved out in which she then placed a small metal bowl. From her pouches, the apothecary produced a vial of oil. The compound was similar to her memory wiping potion, but not as strong. It gave the same effects, but such effects were only temporary and would wear off in a few months. Aryn wrapped her scarf over her nose and mouth and heated the oil in a small cauldron. Once it began to smoke, she poured it into the metal bowl and made sure none would spill on the bumby road by nestling it between two bags. Finally, she opened the other body bag, not recognizing the face, but assuming the man to be related to Tirion somehow.
The apothecary opened the wagon and climbed back to the roof, closing them afterwards.
"It is done. Don' go in there 'til nightfall lest ye wish ta lose yer memories, too."
-----
Tirion stepped lightly through the piles of bodies in the conquered battlefield. Unfortunately, he and his best friend, Cray, were on the losing side. Hiding from the gaul soldiers proved to be a daunting task. They knew that, if spotted, they would be executed on the ground they stood upon. A terrified young man, Tirion did all he could to not shake as he and Cray wade their way out of possible danger. But it was not Tirion that gave the two boys away that day.
A nearby pair of gaul soldiers patrolling for survivors spotted a long, broken pike moving from behind a pile of dead soldiers.
"Alright, you, there! The norric pikeman! Come on out an' face yer death like a man!" one of the soldiers barked. The two boys jumped at the sudden shout. They looked at each other and silently decided to run for their lives. Tirion and Cray, using what little strength they had left, bolted in the opposite direction. The two soldiers yelled again and gave chase.
The boys ran for what felt like miles and were only barely able to elude their pursuers. That was until another pair of patrolling soldiers spotted the chase and ran ahead, cutting them off. The boys looked at each other again, both with looks of terror and acceptance of their fates. But then came a muffled voice from beneath the piles of bodies around them.
"Ye'll not touch them!" it bellowed. Out burst the largest man either of the two boys had ever seen. His long black hair was braided in sections and tied behind his head and his long mutton chops gave him the look of a wild beast. The behemoth of a man sent his meaty hands edge first into the necks of the two pursuers. An audible snap was heard before the two soldiers fell limp on the ground. The beastly man turned to the other two soldiers and roared like a lion whilst impaling them on their former comrades' pikes.
When the new ally turned to look at the boys, Tirion recognized him.
"Commander Bronh! Yer alive!" Tirion flung himself on his superior, tears in his eyes. The giant pushed him away and knelt down.
"Aye. But we've best be leavin' if'n ye want it ta stay that way." Tirion and Cray nodded as they were scooped up and carried off at a speed that was surprising for the man's size.
