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Post by Myridd on Nov 6, 2010 21:19:24 GMT -5
The Royal Palace of Camelyn
Courtyard
Sitting on a polished stone bench, her first time alone in two weeks, was Alymere al'Mar the Daughter-Heir to the throne of Andor.
Hours upon hours of etiquette training, listening to Mother and her advisors drone on and on about policies and foreign affairs! Its all so dull. So dreadfully dull. And it shouldn't be my duty!! The frail looking blonde girl sighed with frustration as she stared down into the fountain. "Damn you, Lancelle!"
"Now, that's not very nice, sis. Damning your sister like that. What would mother say?" Pelleas al'Mar's sweet voice came from the courtyard's entrance, causing Alymere to jump.
She stood up, half in a rage, rounding onto her brother and First Prince. "Don't start Pelleas! Mother disowned Lancelle, remember? She is no longer Mother's daughter, therefor she is no longer my sister! And if she was she wouldn't of left me with all of this..." Her blue eyes clouded with tears as her words trembled and her anger faded. ". . . I'm not strong like her, Pelleas. . I don't have her will. . I don't think I can do this. . I wish she was here. . ."
Her twin brother stepped up to her and wrapped her with his arms. "Lancelle might not be our sister in name, but she'll always be our sister in truth. And she will always be there for you."
"Is the Tower more important? Are the Aes Sedai more important than Andor? . . . than us. . .?" Alymere sobbed quietly.
". . . I don't know, Aly. I don't know."
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Post by Myridd on Nov 7, 2010 22:26:20 GMT -5
Dusk was approaching as Lancelle al’Mar Paendrag and her warder made their way across the foothills of the Dragonmount. Reginald Lucan Paendrag was pacing his horse half a length ahead of Lancelle, and constantly turning back to circle her, hardly saying a word as he did.
“It is getting dark. We are no where near a village. We should of stayed in Yumar until dawn.” The warder said seriously, glancing towards the Aes Sedai.
“We have a long journey, brother gaidin, and one best seen to with haste. Besides, the night shall hamper any pursuers more than it shall us.” Lancelle turned her eyes forward. “We shall stop at one of the border-forts; the swordsmen there should recognize you as a kindred soul and provide us some aid.”
“I do not like having to require on the kindn-” In mid-word, Reginald stopped speaking, his gazed locked onto a group of figures just on the horizon. “Children.” He finished, his voice becoming harsh as he spoke of those who forced his mother to disown his sister for a natural gift. “It looks like they are harassing a traveler.”
“Within sight of Dragonmount... I believe we have a problem to solve.” Lancelle pulled her grey shawl close - there would be no concealing her identity from this enemy - and spurred her horse forward, knowing that her brother would move ahead of her before they reached the Children. As she went, she opened herself to the True Source, drawing saidar in a wide flow. The light of the One Power filled her, and the world came alive, as she placed a Weave to enhance her own hearing, staying alert for hidden archers.
Reginald did ride ahead, but circled back to ride alongside Lancelle as she finished her weave. “Its a Borderlander.” He said with an amused smile on his face. As the Children came into better view, Lancelle could see a group of seven Children surrounding a broad shouldered, axe wielding youth. Though the youth was not as in peril as the Aes Sedai and her Warder had originally thought. Four of the horses stood without their riders as four Children of the Light fought to get back onto their feet.
“I ain’t done nuthin’ wrong. I donna want to go into Cairhein. I rather like sittin’ right here.” The youth said brashly, pointing his axe at the most heavily armoured Child.
“Captain Yancy.” Lancelle spoke with a note of amusement in her voice, reigning her steed in within easy speaking distance of the confrontation. “Have you grown both tired of harassing villagers in Ghealdin and forgetful enough to choose the road to Tar Valon for your operations? I seem to recall a time when you were well regarded enough to help bully Queens and Daughter-Heirs; is this how far you’ve fallen? Collect your men and go south; none here has the time to be distracted by you.”
The Borderlander locked his gaze onto Lancelle, his deep gray eyes regarding her curiously. Commander Yancy did not seem to notice as he turned away from the man threatening him with an axe and turned towards the Aes Sedai. “Ah, the disowned Princess. If I recall correctly, the affairs of Daughter-Heirs ar-” Suddenly he is knocked to the ground as the Borderlander surged forward past him and would of made it to Lancelle’s side except for Reginald blocking his path.
Without taking his eyes off of her, the Borderlander smiled broadly. “You’re the disinherited daughter of Andor? The Daughter Disinherited, on a mission most dire?”
Reginald was taken aback, as he threw a glance at his sister. Commander Yancy stood, brushed himself off, and grabbed the Borderlander by the arm. “Now see here, you ruffian!”
The moment Yancy’s gloved hand touched his weathered skin, the Borderlander’s eyes narrowed and his smile faded. In a moment he had spun around and had knocked Yancy to the ground with the broadside of his axe. “Donna you touch me, you snivelling white cloak!”
“Get on your horse, Yancy; you’re embarassing yourself in front of your men.” Channeling Air, Lancelle physically lifted the Captain from the ground and onto his horse, letting him come to rest there as gently as could be. “You’re outmatched, Captain. Ride now; you’ll likely get a better chance at killing all of us later.”
Yancy’s men fled, moments before Yancy himself had decided to retreat. The Borderlander looked at Lancelle with thanks. “You’re a nice, pretty lass. You probably needen some words with me? There’s an abandoned fort” He pointed at a wooded structure not far off with his axe. “And I had just rustled up some deer before our buddy Yancy-pants decided to pay a visit.”
Reginald looked to Lancelle, leaving the decision up to her.
Lancelle considered a moment before nodding. “Lead us there, sir.” She let her eyes remain on the Borderlander a long moment. “I am Lancelle Paendrag, Aes Sedai of the Grey Ajah. My Warder is Lucan.”
“Pleasure. Boyd McNair of the Borderlands.” He said, nodding in return before turning to lead them to the small fort. It had a couple of enclosed rooms that were intact, but most were destroyed long ago. Boyd had a fire going in the once courtyard with a deer slowly roasting over top. By the look of it, Boyd had been staying there for quite some time but was quite neat with his space.
Lancelle dismounted, leaving her horse to her brother, and moved to speak with Boyd. “You have been waiting here for me.”
Reginald smiled slightly to himself as he takes care of both of the horses, leaving Lancelle and Boyd to talk.
“Yessum. Infact I have. Told myself I had to meet the Daughter Disinherited and help her in Cairhein.” Boyd replies, walking over to the deer to spin it. “Though perhaps I should ‘xplain? I’m a Foreteller.”
And he comes right out and says it? “Interesting. And what did you Foretell about me?”
“The Daughter Disherited seeks out the three. The lucky Fox, the humble Wolf, and the tainted Dragon.” Boyd replies simply, not looking away from the deer. “The rest gets lost in translation. . Mostly my mind not bein’ able to decipher it ‘ll.” He frowns slightly, shaking his head. After refocusing, he turns towards Lancelle and smiles humbly. “I donna know why, or how, but I’m supposed ta be helping you.”
“I will accept what help I can get.” Lancelle turned her eyes toward the sky, then looked to Reginald. “Do you truly believe that travelling through the night would be unwise?”
Reginald nodded. “Yes. The wind is turning cold and coyotes are beginning to cry. I would rather not risking spooking the horses.” The Warder turned his cool blue eyes to Boyd, scrutinizing him momentarily before looking back to Lancelle. “If you trust him, we should stay.”
“Then we shall rest here for the night, and continue at dawn.”
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 17:58:27 GMT -5
A seedy inn on the outskirts of Andor
The door flew open, and a man cloaked in fine furs was ushered in by a blast of chilly wind. He adjusted his hood to hide his face, and flexed his fingers uncomfortably in the harsh leather gloves he had stolen from his stable boy. The man glanced about, immediately noticing what he was looking for.
Seated in the very center of the inn was a well dressed man of about forty years of age. His raven black hair was graying at his temples, and he did not look towards the new arrival as he took a sip of deep red wine from a goblet obviously not from this seedy establishment.
". . .S. . Sir. .?" The fur cloaked man stuttered nervously as he approached the raven-haired man's table.
"Sit, sit." The raven-haired man said genially, turning his dark, sharp gaze towards the other man, a sinister smirk on his face. "You're a little late. I was beginning to think you forgot our little date?" He jested, leaning back in his chairwhile adjusting his cape to show his hand resting on the hilt of a silver-handled sword. The other man gulped nervously.
"No. . N-no, of course not. . . The meeting with the. . Queen went longer than expected. . . I. . I was delayed. . ." The nervous man answered quickly, drawing a paper-wrapped parcel from underneath his cloak and placing it on the table.
The raven-haired man took it in his velvet-gloved hand, turning it over and inspecting it carefully. "These are the documents I need?" He asked casually as he carefully undid the twine binding the package.
"Y-yes. . ." The nervous man's eyes darted away as the raven-haired man scanned the papers. ". . . . and. . pay. . . payment?"
Satisfied with what the documents contained, the raven-haired man smirked as he drew a pouch of gold from beneath his cloak and handed it to the other man. "Of course. You do good work for a selfish bastard willing to sell out his own country for a few shiny coins." The raven-haired man stood, still staring down at the nervous one. "I look forward to our next meeting. I suspect you'll live up to your rat reputation?" He reached out and patted the other man's head much like he would a runt puppy before killing it for its weakness.
"Y-yes. . ."
"Good." And with that, the well dressed man left in a swirl of fine cloth and chilling air. It was only than that the nervous man noticed that the barkeep was laying facedown on the bar, blood pouring out of the sockets of his missing eyes. The nervous man swallowed a scream, looking around panicked. Suddenly, he felt steel against his throat and hot breath on his neck.
Without a word of explanation or a view of his attacker, the Andoran noble was cut down and the pouch of gold he had just received was taken my his assassin.
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 19:33:43 GMT -5
Outside of the Horn and Dagger Inn, Cairhein
Just after Dusk
A shadowy form climbs up the trellis at the rear of the Inn, sliding a window open and than slipping inside. Once the window is securely shut, curtains drawn, Wren Finnigan throws off her cheap black cloak and lets her hazelnut colored hair tumble freely on her shoulders. She gives out a soft sigh as she dusts off her soft leather boots and adjusts her cranberry colored leather jerkin. She loved the feel of soft leather on her skin, and this Inn seemed to be the only place she could wear it. Her normal life called for complicated gowns, jewel encrusted jewelery and painfully tight corsets. Not to mention the fake smiles, false flirtations and scheming tricks. She was an expert at The Game and once she greatly enjoyed playing it.
But as of late, the thrill of it didn't come to her any more. Wren was finding it more of a chore, a job that must be done rather than a delight to win the day.
She opened the door to the room she had snuck into, the room she kept rented from Galin's parents, a smile on her face as she stood straight and tall. As she headed down the stairs and into the Inn's greatroom her spirits lifted. The aroma of flavorful stew and fresh barley hops made her stomach growl. Wren made her way to her favorite spot, the barstool at the end of the bar, close to the wall.
Flashing a smile and a wink at Gareth Markose, the Inn's Proprietor, she ordered a bowl of their famous stew and a mug of frosty ale. She than scanned the crowd with her dark eyes, looking for her best friend Galin, probably about to be slapped for a fresh comment he made to a young maid.
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Post by Trailfoot on Nov 8, 2010 20:04:54 GMT -5
"Well, Rosalina, I didn't mean it that way!" Galin stumbled out of the back room, pursued by a rather angry-looking Tairen girl with dark hair. He ducked another slap, then leapt onto a chair as he continued his retreat. "Really! I was remarking on the complimentary colors between your dress and the decor, not..." The Tairen girl threw the chair that Galin had just been standing on, and he dove to the side, barely avoiding it. "Not whatever you think I was talking about! Really! You don't have to..." He caught her hand to prevent another slap, then immediately released it. "You don't have to try to knock out all my teeth! I might stop running if you promised it would only be one or two!"
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 20:15:21 GMT -5
Wren suppressed a giggle before walking over to Galin and Rosalina. She reached out and thumped Galin on the back of the head with a swift blow of the palm of her hand. "Now now Galin. When are you going to learn to stop biting more than you can chew."
She than steps between Galin and Rosalina, grabbing the girl's delicate wrist as she tried for another blow. "And you, I know how he works, certainly what he said isn't worth making a fool of yourself running through an inn's greatroom like a common barmaid just for a tad of revenge? Besides, Galin would lose what little charm he had if I let you remove any of his teeth."
Rosalina's cheeks turned scarlet as she turned and huffed away. Wren let out a barely audible chuckle as she shook her head at Galin. "Honestly. . If you're going to make lewd comments, don't do it to a Tairen! Especially not one with forearms like Rosalina has!"
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Post by Trailfoot on Nov 8, 2010 20:34:54 GMT -5
"Wren! Thank the Light..." Galin poked his head out from behind his friend, favoring Rosalina with his best calming grin. "I really am sorry, Rosalina. Forgive me?"
"Well... fine. But you have to convince your mother to make those apple tarts in the morning, or I might have to come find you." Galin's grin faded when he realized what she would be finding him for would not likely be what he would like her to find him for. As Rosalina twirled on her heels and left, Galin smiled to Wren - a friendly smile rather than the charming grin he'd favored Rosalina with. "I owe you again, Wren. But I guess there will be apple tarts if you're here tomorrow." He linked his arm with Wren's. "Any plans for today?"
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 20:54:04 GMT -5
"A nice bowl of stew. And entertainment. Though, it seems like the entertainment has already been covered." Wren smiled slightly. "What about you? There are some performers at the outside of town. Thought we could go see them? Might be some Tinker short-skirts in it for you."
--------
Broken down fort outside of Cairhein
Reginald sat in a large window that had lost its glass decades ago. He had his lute on his lap and his fingers were strumming a tune as he watched his sister and the Borderlander.
I shouldn't trust him. This is too easy. Too convenient. Waiting for us, claiming to be a Foreteller. The broken speech, implied slowness of thought, that innocent boyish grin. Its all too easy. He focused his gaze on Lancelle, wondering what was going through his sister's head. Certainly he knew the most about her, but sometimes he felt he knew the least. He moved his gaze back to Boyd, who had just made a joke that made Lancelle laugh.
Reginald narrowed his eyes in disgust. Why does he have to look at her like that?
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Post by Trailfoot on Nov 8, 2010 21:12:41 GMT -5
The Horn and the Dagger
"Well, I am well-known for my appreciation of the fine art of performance." Galin grinned, turning his head toward his father. "Da! Two stew, in the rough bowls!"
A moment later, they were outside the inn, walking down the road, each holding a misshapen clay bowl full of excellent stew. "So... where are the Tinkers?"
Outside
Lancelle took a large bite of the meat in her hand, holding the bone carefully to keep the oils off her fingers. "We should rest now, while we can." She glanced away from Boyd, toward Reginald, and sent through the link a feeling of wariness - a reassurance that she was alert to betrayal. "There is a long journey ahead in the morning."
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 21:55:12 GMT -5
Along the road from the Horn and the Dagger
"Just down that way, see?" Wren points with her free hand after swallowing a gulp of stew. "The firelight and the colorful tents?"
They soon came upon the Tinker Performers. A group of dancers entertained the crowd as people in makeshift carts sold candied fruits and children ran freely chasing after puppies and rabbits.
One of the dancers immediately caught Galin's eye. Mainly because she did not look like the rest. She had exotic olive skin and the darkest eyes he has ever seen. Eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul when she locked gazes with him. Her dress was a deep color of plum with a plunging neckline and a skirt that rose delightfully when she spun, showing the colorful petticoats she wore underneath.
Wren noticed the gaze between the two, holding back a chuckle and nudging Galin towards the dancers as their dancing ceased. "Have fun." She whispered before breaking herself away from him and heading to the candied fruit cart.
-----
Outside Caihrein
Reginald looked away from his sister after she met his gaze. Though he might have his doubts, he trusted her instincts. And the Borderlander had done nothing to warrant his wrath.
Boyd nodded to Lancelle, glancing at Reginald as well than thinking for a moment. Than he suddenly stood and offered Lancelle the handle of his axe. "I know my story's a tad. . . far-fetched. 'eep this til ya trust me. I 'an use ma throwin' axes for defense til than."
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Post by Trailfoot on Nov 8, 2010 22:26:54 GMT -5
Cairhein
"Yeah, see you..." Gailin tried to look to his friend as she left, but found himself not quite able to take his eyes off the dancing girl long enough to do so. As Wren slipped away, Galin made his way over to the girl, actually not quite managing to bury all his nervousness. "Galin Markose... dance with me?"
Elsewhere
"You do be slippin' off quietly." An amused voice came from the back of a farmer's cart as it passed Wren, and a girl slipped down, her dirty brown hair filled with flecks of wheat. She was an Illianer, tall for her apparent age and slender, wearing brown trousers that showed every mile of her trip and the tunic of a man half again her size. "An' why that do be, I wonder?"
Outside
"If you are to travel with me, I would have you fully able to defend yourself. Keep your weapon, Boyd; if I planned to take any of your weapons I would have my Warder take all of them. Just remember..." Her smile was one of a kind person giving advice, showing none of the threat her words might imply. "He would feel my death, and I his. If you have ill intent, unless you are certain you could defeat whichever of us you were planning to kill second without surprise, I would suggest delaying action on said intent."
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Post by Myridd on Nov 8, 2010 22:55:28 GMT -5
Cairhein
The dark eyed woman does not reply, but just lets a smile show her interest as she takes Galin's hand and places it on her hip as he pulls him into a dance. The music is rhythmic, with an erotic beat that the woman followed with the swaying of her hips. After a few minutes of intense dancing, the music slowed and eased itself into a softer tune. It was than the woman locked gazes with Galin again, the corners of her blood red lips curled up in a smile. "Hello Gallen."
She grazes his cheek with the back of her silky fingers, the look in her eyes changing from idle curiosity to a more intense interest. Immediately she takes a step back from him, her eyes wide in horror than softening with the tenderness of a long lost lover. A moment later she takes him by the arm, drawing him away from the firelight and the other dancers. "Tell me Gallen. . .tell me about you."
--
Wren turned around, looking at the rather dirty girl. She raised a dark brow curiously at the accent, but kept her thoughts about it to herself. Wren glances back towards where Galin and the girl are dancing, than back at the dirty one. "Unless you're not keen on the interactions between boys and girls. . than the reason I slipped away should be quite obvious." She said, standing up a tad bit straighter and giving the Illianer the full brunt of her aristocratic gaze though it was an unconscious move.
Outside
Boyd looked at Lancelle, than down at the axe in his hands before dropping his arm to his side. ". . I'm mighty sorry, Ma'am. I wouldn't hurt either of you, but I 'dmit to not bein' too wise to the ways of the Aes Sedai or their bonds with their 'arders." He sighed, than walked a bit aways, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor and laying his axe at his feet. He refused to look back at her, a rose color appearing on his cheeks revealing his embarrassment.
Reginald could not help but smile tenderly at the Borderlander. Such an innocent for what he has done. He looked over at Lancelle, meeting her gaze and sending a message of acceptance through their link. He trusted the Borderlander now. No one with ill intent would of offered their best weapon like that, so openly without secret ploys.
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Post by Trailfoot on Nov 8, 2010 23:18:28 GMT -5
Cairhein
Light, can this girl dance. Galin's heart was pounding as she led him away, and he could see from the tone of her skin that hers was doing the same. Though what was that sudden look of fear? Do I look like a former lover of hers or something? I'd imagine she's inspired enough jealous suitors to light half Illian aflame.
"Galin Markose. If you want to learn your way around the South Quarter, I'm your man..." Galin smiled to her, managing to hide his nervousness as he began to speak.
Elsewhere
"I'll be havin' you know that I do clean up quite well, Mistress Highnose." The Illianer strode to Wren, folding her hands behind her back and wearing the smirk of a woman far more used to getting her way than her present appearance would indicate. "An' I do be gettin' more than my share of attention from boys... when I've not just ridden three days in the back of a wheat-cart, anyway." Her expression suddenly turned friendly. "Still, you do be seemin' like a pleasant enough sort. Might there be a place I could be restin' my bags nearby?"
Outside
"If you remain with me, you will learn." The smile Lancelle favored Boyd with was honestly kind. "Is there more meat? I find myself rather more hungry than I expected... I would wager that it was because Captain Yancy put on weight since the last time I lifted him to his horse."
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Post by Myridd on Nov 9, 2010 16:29:43 GMT -5
Cairhein
Galin Markose and the mysterious dancing girl talked and laughed well into the night, seperating only after Galin promised to return the next eve and watch her dance one more time before the troupe moved on.
Wren had told the Illianer woman about Galin's folks' Inn, even going as far as offering up the room she kept rented for her to spend the night. They might of gotten off to a rather rough start, and Wren still did not understand why the other woman sought her out, but was happy to of made another friend nonetheless.
Cairhein Border
The group of three fell asleep, waking well before dawn with Reginal insisting they get going. If they pressed hard they would be able to make it to Cairhein's capital just before nightfall.
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Post by Myridd on Nov 9, 2010 17:12:35 GMT -5
Just outside Caemlyn Castle
"I don't like this." A tall man, his face covered by shadow remarked to a raven-haired man with graying temples and his small, cloaked companion.
"Oh come now, this is not the time to be backing out." The raven-haired man chided, sounding slightly amused and stressed at the same time.
"I'm not backing out, never thought of it. There just must be another way to accomplish our goal." The taller man snapped back, his voice raising slightly. "We have a lot to lose if we underestimate the girl."
The raven-haired man slightly, indicating the slight figure besides him. "Trust me. This is perfect. Nothing can go wrong."
The tall man stepped forward and snatched the cloak off of the smallest figure. A flood of golden curls cascaded down, and the tall man's gaze was met by striking cerulean blue eyes.
He took a step back, suprised himself by the resemblance.
---
Cairhein, the Tinker Camp
Dusk was approaching, and as promised Galin had returned with Wren to the Tinker camp. He had regaled his oldest friend with stories of the olive-skinned dancer. Wren would normally poke fun at her friend for gushing about a female as much as he was doing now, but she had never seen him speak of anyone this way. He hadn't even thought to ask her name.
"Gal-len!" A melodic voice called out as Galin was almost knocked off his feet by his mysterious dancer. "You came!" She threw her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek."We are still setting up, but make yourselves comfortable. I need to help Melinda with the preparations." Than she was gone, as quickly as she had come.
----
Upon entering the city, Reginald, Lancelle and Boyd took up board at the Horn and Dagger. The room keys were just pressed into Lancelle's hand when Boyd's expression suddenly went serious.
"Shadowspawn." He said quietly, his eyes staring out of the window of the Inn to the fires and tents that indicated the Tinker camp. In half a moment, his axe was in his hand, and he had knocked down the Inn's door and was heading towards the camp as it was encircled by goat and wolf headed men, armed with sickly dark swords and clad in makeshift armour.
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