Post by Jevanna on May 7, 2007 12:21:05 GMT -5
The Scarlet Crusade: Part One
- Safe Travels
The Dagger Hills, West of Tarren Mill.
Night…
The fire crackled and spat, sending burning embers up into the darkness as it consumed the dried wood that was its very being. It cast a warming aura of light about itself, but beyond that it cast shadows that leapt and leered into strange, contorted and terrifying unknown shapes as the flamelight played with the minds of those gathered about it.
But at least it was warm.
Jevanna smiled to herself, hugging her knees under her chin and staring into the flames. There was a faint and enigmatic smile on her lips that had been there all day, irritating her travelling companion no end when Jev refused to elaborate on why she felt so happy.
Also, why she felt so tired. Jevanna stifled a yawn, her thoughts turning yet again to last night. That it had happened came as no surprise to her: after all, hadn’t that been her plan all along? But what did surprise her was the depth of feeling she was suddenly experiencing for the woman. That was certainly not supposed to be part of the plan. She longed to speak to her some more, to spend more time with her. They were two alike, she had told Jevanna; so alike that Jevanna needed to discover if the Guildmistress was playing the same game with her, that she had been playing this game of seduction and subterfuge so much longer than her that Jevanna was the one being used…
Jevanna sighed. She so wanted to speak to her friend about this, but she knew Loth wouldn’t approve. And besides, the mission was more important than the heart.
Her travelling companion sat on the opposite side of the fire. Lotherin Bezzant had a book of blank pages open before her and was busying herself with writing down the events of the day, keeping a record of their mission. The scratching of the quill on the dried parchment paper broke the still of the night almost as much as the crackling flames.
Jevanna glanced up, opened her mouth as if to say something, then paused. She frowned at the Warrior.
“Do you know you stick your tongue out of the side of your mouth when your write your letters?” she said.
Lotherin paused. Her tongue slid back inside her mouth with a gentle sucking noise and she glared at her best friend.
“I do not!” she replied.
“You do,” Jev countered, leading to a brief exchange of variations of the same words until Jevanna finally shrugged.
“Okay! You do not. My mistake. I was only going to ask you,” she said, “if you needed a blanket from the wagon?” Jevanna jerked her thumb over her shoulder to where their transport – a battered, covered wagon with uneven wheels and pulled by a matching donkey – was parked.
Lotherin smiled. “Cold, Jev?” It was a pleasant enough night, but both women were wearing simple travelling clothing, made of thin cloth and of a cut to suggest they were both women of unassuming upbringing. Although Jevanna’s leather armour would not have looked inappropriate upon her, Lotherin would have appeared out of place wearing her normal plate armour.
Jevanna nodded, climbing to her feet. “I can’t seem to get warm,” she replied. “Ever since Blackrock Mountain and that damned Summoner’s Tomb. I tell you, I’m sure I caught something off those Dwa-“
Jevanna paused mid-sentence and cocked her head to one side. Lotherin had known Jevanna long enough to trust the Rogue’s senses. She put down her book and quill and slowly reached for her mace.
Jevanna turned around, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight for any sign of movement to match the sound she thought she had heard. She was sure she had heard a footfall, a heavy one, that didn’t sound like a bear or cougar that prowled the lower slopes of the Dagger Hills. Instinctively she gathered the shadows about her.
Lotherin moved herself into a crouch, ready to spring, when she felt the touch of cold steel on her neck.
“Don’t move, my pretty,” hissed a voice at her ear. “Drop the masher.“
Lotherin glanced up. Before her, two figures stepped into the circle of firelight, both dressed in black from head to toe, one carrying a sword, the other carrying a dagger. They had the look of brigands about them, but successful ones. Ones that still couldn’t afford to wash, judging from the smell of the one behind Lotherin, but successful still.
Of Jevanna, there was no sign.
The brigand with the dagger crossed over to the wagon and climbed inside, while the one with the sword moved closer to the fire.
“You look a long way from home, missy,” Swordman said, gazing down upon Lotherin. “Otherwise, you’d know better than to camp out here alone.”
“So I see,” Lotherin replied through clenched teeth. Any further conversation was curtailed by a voice from the back of the wagon. Swordman glanced in that direction as Daggerbrigand’s head poked out. He looked very surprised.
“You will never guess what’s in here, Sten,” he said to the Swordman, who narrowed his eyes.
“Then we’ll not play silly games and you’ll tell me what you’ve discovered, Lorrett. ” Sten replied.
“Dark Iron bars..!” Lorrett said. “There’s a whole crate of ‘em in back, here..!”
Sten looked surprised. Lotherin felt the blade at her neck waver slightly at the news.
“Any… anything else?” Sten said, raising an eyebrow at Lorrett, who disappeared back into the wagon. Sten turned back to Lotherin.
“Now I’m wonderin’,” he said to her, “what a pretty young thing like you is doin’ alone up here in the Dagger Hills with such a precious cargo.”
“Being robbed?” Lotherin smiled sweetly. Any reply was cut short by a cry from inside the wagon. Sten turned back to see Lorrett scrambling down from out of the back of it, a bundle of cloth under one arm.
“What is it?” Sten muttered. In reply, the other brigand split the bundle in two and held the cloth aloft, allowing the robes to unfurl gracefully to the ground. Sten drew a breath at what he saw.
“Scarlet Crusader robes,” he hissed, turning back to Lotherin.
“Yeah,” Lorrett sneered. “And I wonder what two Scarlet Crusaders are doin’ this far south…”
Sten nodded, once. Then he frowned.
“Two...?”
There was a thud, the sound of wood hitting skull, followed by a pained gasp of surprise. Sten span on his heel at the sound, just in time to see Lorrett crumple, unconscious, folding like a bad poker player.
Sten raised his blade to defend himself against the assailant, but he could see no-one in the firelight; just shadows that leapt and leered into strange, contorted and terrifying unknown shapes…
Jevanna stepped through those shadows an appeared behind Sten, a hand at his chin pulling it to one side as her dagger came up and across, the silver-green of her blade a blur as it flashed across the dirty skin of the brigands’ throat.
At the same time, before he could react, Lotherin whipped her right elbow backwards and slightly upwards, feeling it impact with the third brigands’ testicles with a satisfying crunch. The dagger slipped from the brigand’s fingers as he stumbled backwards, clutching his family jewels in agony. Lotherin leapt to her feet to face him, bringing the palm of her left hand upwards. It connected with the brigands’ nose with a satisfying crunch of bone and flesh. The brigand yelped in shock once as he fell backwards onto the ground, twitched for a moment, then was still.
Lotherin turned back to the middle of the camp.
Jevanna was standing there, arms at her sides, behind the brigand who used to be called Sten. He was still standing, sword raised, looking towards their wagon, his head turned to on one side.
“Need any help, Jev?” Lotherin said. Jevanna shook her head and turned to her friend.
“No. I’m done here,” she replied.
Sten’s sword slowly dropped from his lifeless fingers as a cascade of scarlet gushed forth from the hairline incision in his throat, running down the front of his black leather doublet like a flood. Sten sank slowly to his knees, then toppled forward onto his face.
“Bloody robbers,” Jevanna spat. “They give honest Rogues a bad name.”
“Sorry, I don’t know any of those,” Lotherin replied with a grin. Jevanna stuck her tongue out at her, then glanced over her shoulder at the third body.
“You made a mess of his face,” she said, watching as blood gushed from the smashed remains of his nose, running down his cheeks, pooling in the brigands’ lifeless eyes. Lotherin nodded.
“He wanted to make a mess of mine,” she pouted. “I just got my retaliation in first.”
Jevanna grinned, then turned her attention toward the gently moaning form of Lorrett. She walked over to him just as he regained consciousness, and removed the Scarlet Crusader robes from his fingers. Lotherin joined her.
Lorrett blinked his eyes open and discovered two stern-looking women dressed wearing simple cloth travelling attire looking down at him. Both dark haired, one athletic and beautiful, the other skinny but cute. Both looked more dangerous than mere peasant girls had a right to be.
One of them – the skinny one, holding the robes – coughed and moved to one side. She nodded to a shape by the fire. After a moment Lorrett worked out what it was. He gasped.
Then the other woman coughed, and pointed a delicate thumb at another shapeless mound some distance behind her. Lorrett craned his neck to make out the other dead body.
“Now,” said the beautiful one, “you have a choice.” Lotherin grinned. “Either my friend here with the daggers and the foul temper uses you as target practice…” Jevanna grinned; it was not a pleasant grin. Lorrett squirmed.
“...or..?” he managed to squeak. Lotherin knelt down at the brigand’s side.
“Or I let you live, and you tell no-one of what you’ve seen until morning. When we’re gone.”
Lorrett glanced between the two women and managed a nod. The skinny one smiled.
“And don’t think about bringing your friends back tonight,” she said. “Felstaff is a very light sleeper,” she pointed at the soundly-sleeping donkey tied to a nearby tree, “and so am I. And besides,” Jevanna grinned. “Do you want your friends to know you were beaten by a couple of peasant girls?”
“Y…You ain’t no peasant girls..!” Lorrett stammered. Lotherin nodded.
“That’s right,” she said. “And unless you want to incur the wrath of the Scarlet Order, you’ll keep quiet about this. We let you live, as you don’t bear the taint of the Scourge.”
Lorrett nodded, his legs starting to work at pushing him backwards and to his feet. Finally he stood up and, on shaky legs, he turned and ran. Lotherin smiled to herself.
“Leave one alive to tell the tale,” she muttered to herself. Jevanna shrugged.
”Don’t see why. He might’ve have some silver pieces on him…”
Lotherin raised an eyebrow at Jevanna. Jev eventually grinned wickedly at her friend and chuckled.
“Liked your ‘wrath of the Scarlet Order’ line. That should keep him quiet for months!” Jevanna said.
“I can’t help it,” Lotherin replied. “I still love to terrorise the peasantry.”
Jevanna chuckled all the way back to Sten’s corpse. It was only when she pulled something from his pouch that she stopped.
“Oh. Crap.” Jevanna looked up at Lotherin and tossed something in her direction. Lotherin caught it by reflex and studied it.
It was a badge, forged of cheap copper, the clasp on the back broken. Lotherin turned it over in her hand.
“Syndicate,” Jevanna said in reply to the frown on Lotherin’s face. “Defias with bigger plans. Maybe we should move camp..?”
Lotherin considered this course of action. Then she considered the prospect of a good fight. Without Galvinoth around to divert her passions, the old urge to kill and maim things was coming back strongly.
“Let them come,” Lotherin said. “If they want to die, so be it.” Jevanna smiled.
“Good,” she replied, then stifled a yawn. “I’m too tired to move camp as it is. And besides, no way we’ll get Felstaff started again tonight.” The donkey chose that moment to let out a sleepy snort in emphasis of this fact.
With this agreed, Lotherin made to dispose of the bodies, leaving Jevanna to secure the camp with tripwires and flashbomb alarms. No-one was going to get close to them again tonight without their knowledge.
As she did so, she looked up at the stars twinkling in the night sky, and smiled.
“Stay safe, Anaïs,” Jevanna whispered.
- Safe Travels
The Dagger Hills, West of Tarren Mill.
Night…
The fire crackled and spat, sending burning embers up into the darkness as it consumed the dried wood that was its very being. It cast a warming aura of light about itself, but beyond that it cast shadows that leapt and leered into strange, contorted and terrifying unknown shapes as the flamelight played with the minds of those gathered about it.
But at least it was warm.
Jevanna smiled to herself, hugging her knees under her chin and staring into the flames. There was a faint and enigmatic smile on her lips that had been there all day, irritating her travelling companion no end when Jev refused to elaborate on why she felt so happy.
Also, why she felt so tired. Jevanna stifled a yawn, her thoughts turning yet again to last night. That it had happened came as no surprise to her: after all, hadn’t that been her plan all along? But what did surprise her was the depth of feeling she was suddenly experiencing for the woman. That was certainly not supposed to be part of the plan. She longed to speak to her some more, to spend more time with her. They were two alike, she had told Jevanna; so alike that Jevanna needed to discover if the Guildmistress was playing the same game with her, that she had been playing this game of seduction and subterfuge so much longer than her that Jevanna was the one being used…
Jevanna sighed. She so wanted to speak to her friend about this, but she knew Loth wouldn’t approve. And besides, the mission was more important than the heart.
Her travelling companion sat on the opposite side of the fire. Lotherin Bezzant had a book of blank pages open before her and was busying herself with writing down the events of the day, keeping a record of their mission. The scratching of the quill on the dried parchment paper broke the still of the night almost as much as the crackling flames.
Jevanna glanced up, opened her mouth as if to say something, then paused. She frowned at the Warrior.
“Do you know you stick your tongue out of the side of your mouth when your write your letters?” she said.
Lotherin paused. Her tongue slid back inside her mouth with a gentle sucking noise and she glared at her best friend.
“I do not!” she replied.
“You do,” Jev countered, leading to a brief exchange of variations of the same words until Jevanna finally shrugged.
“Okay! You do not. My mistake. I was only going to ask you,” she said, “if you needed a blanket from the wagon?” Jevanna jerked her thumb over her shoulder to where their transport – a battered, covered wagon with uneven wheels and pulled by a matching donkey – was parked.
Lotherin smiled. “Cold, Jev?” It was a pleasant enough night, but both women were wearing simple travelling clothing, made of thin cloth and of a cut to suggest they were both women of unassuming upbringing. Although Jevanna’s leather armour would not have looked inappropriate upon her, Lotherin would have appeared out of place wearing her normal plate armour.
Jevanna nodded, climbing to her feet. “I can’t seem to get warm,” she replied. “Ever since Blackrock Mountain and that damned Summoner’s Tomb. I tell you, I’m sure I caught something off those Dwa-“
Jevanna paused mid-sentence and cocked her head to one side. Lotherin had known Jevanna long enough to trust the Rogue’s senses. She put down her book and quill and slowly reached for her mace.
Jevanna turned around, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight for any sign of movement to match the sound she thought she had heard. She was sure she had heard a footfall, a heavy one, that didn’t sound like a bear or cougar that prowled the lower slopes of the Dagger Hills. Instinctively she gathered the shadows about her.
Lotherin moved herself into a crouch, ready to spring, when she felt the touch of cold steel on her neck.
“Don’t move, my pretty,” hissed a voice at her ear. “Drop the masher.“
Lotherin glanced up. Before her, two figures stepped into the circle of firelight, both dressed in black from head to toe, one carrying a sword, the other carrying a dagger. They had the look of brigands about them, but successful ones. Ones that still couldn’t afford to wash, judging from the smell of the one behind Lotherin, but successful still.
Of Jevanna, there was no sign.
The brigand with the dagger crossed over to the wagon and climbed inside, while the one with the sword moved closer to the fire.
“You look a long way from home, missy,” Swordman said, gazing down upon Lotherin. “Otherwise, you’d know better than to camp out here alone.”
“So I see,” Lotherin replied through clenched teeth. Any further conversation was curtailed by a voice from the back of the wagon. Swordman glanced in that direction as Daggerbrigand’s head poked out. He looked very surprised.
“You will never guess what’s in here, Sten,” he said to the Swordman, who narrowed his eyes.
“Then we’ll not play silly games and you’ll tell me what you’ve discovered, Lorrett. ” Sten replied.
“Dark Iron bars..!” Lorrett said. “There’s a whole crate of ‘em in back, here..!”
Sten looked surprised. Lotherin felt the blade at her neck waver slightly at the news.
“Any… anything else?” Sten said, raising an eyebrow at Lorrett, who disappeared back into the wagon. Sten turned back to Lotherin.
“Now I’m wonderin’,” he said to her, “what a pretty young thing like you is doin’ alone up here in the Dagger Hills with such a precious cargo.”
“Being robbed?” Lotherin smiled sweetly. Any reply was cut short by a cry from inside the wagon. Sten turned back to see Lorrett scrambling down from out of the back of it, a bundle of cloth under one arm.
“What is it?” Sten muttered. In reply, the other brigand split the bundle in two and held the cloth aloft, allowing the robes to unfurl gracefully to the ground. Sten drew a breath at what he saw.
“Scarlet Crusader robes,” he hissed, turning back to Lotherin.
“Yeah,” Lorrett sneered. “And I wonder what two Scarlet Crusaders are doin’ this far south…”
Sten nodded, once. Then he frowned.
“Two...?”
There was a thud, the sound of wood hitting skull, followed by a pained gasp of surprise. Sten span on his heel at the sound, just in time to see Lorrett crumple, unconscious, folding like a bad poker player.
Sten raised his blade to defend himself against the assailant, but he could see no-one in the firelight; just shadows that leapt and leered into strange, contorted and terrifying unknown shapes…
Jevanna stepped through those shadows an appeared behind Sten, a hand at his chin pulling it to one side as her dagger came up and across, the silver-green of her blade a blur as it flashed across the dirty skin of the brigands’ throat.
At the same time, before he could react, Lotherin whipped her right elbow backwards and slightly upwards, feeling it impact with the third brigands’ testicles with a satisfying crunch. The dagger slipped from the brigand’s fingers as he stumbled backwards, clutching his family jewels in agony. Lotherin leapt to her feet to face him, bringing the palm of her left hand upwards. It connected with the brigands’ nose with a satisfying crunch of bone and flesh. The brigand yelped in shock once as he fell backwards onto the ground, twitched for a moment, then was still.
Lotherin turned back to the middle of the camp.
Jevanna was standing there, arms at her sides, behind the brigand who used to be called Sten. He was still standing, sword raised, looking towards their wagon, his head turned to on one side.
“Need any help, Jev?” Lotherin said. Jevanna shook her head and turned to her friend.
“No. I’m done here,” she replied.
Sten’s sword slowly dropped from his lifeless fingers as a cascade of scarlet gushed forth from the hairline incision in his throat, running down the front of his black leather doublet like a flood. Sten sank slowly to his knees, then toppled forward onto his face.
“Bloody robbers,” Jevanna spat. “They give honest Rogues a bad name.”
“Sorry, I don’t know any of those,” Lotherin replied with a grin. Jevanna stuck her tongue out at her, then glanced over her shoulder at the third body.
“You made a mess of his face,” she said, watching as blood gushed from the smashed remains of his nose, running down his cheeks, pooling in the brigands’ lifeless eyes. Lotherin nodded.
“He wanted to make a mess of mine,” she pouted. “I just got my retaliation in first.”
Jevanna grinned, then turned her attention toward the gently moaning form of Lorrett. She walked over to him just as he regained consciousness, and removed the Scarlet Crusader robes from his fingers. Lotherin joined her.
Lorrett blinked his eyes open and discovered two stern-looking women dressed wearing simple cloth travelling attire looking down at him. Both dark haired, one athletic and beautiful, the other skinny but cute. Both looked more dangerous than mere peasant girls had a right to be.
One of them – the skinny one, holding the robes – coughed and moved to one side. She nodded to a shape by the fire. After a moment Lorrett worked out what it was. He gasped.
Then the other woman coughed, and pointed a delicate thumb at another shapeless mound some distance behind her. Lorrett craned his neck to make out the other dead body.
“Now,” said the beautiful one, “you have a choice.” Lotherin grinned. “Either my friend here with the daggers and the foul temper uses you as target practice…” Jevanna grinned; it was not a pleasant grin. Lorrett squirmed.
“...or..?” he managed to squeak. Lotherin knelt down at the brigand’s side.
“Or I let you live, and you tell no-one of what you’ve seen until morning. When we’re gone.”
Lorrett glanced between the two women and managed a nod. The skinny one smiled.
“And don’t think about bringing your friends back tonight,” she said. “Felstaff is a very light sleeper,” she pointed at the soundly-sleeping donkey tied to a nearby tree, “and so am I. And besides,” Jevanna grinned. “Do you want your friends to know you were beaten by a couple of peasant girls?”
“Y…You ain’t no peasant girls..!” Lorrett stammered. Lotherin nodded.
“That’s right,” she said. “And unless you want to incur the wrath of the Scarlet Order, you’ll keep quiet about this. We let you live, as you don’t bear the taint of the Scourge.”
Lorrett nodded, his legs starting to work at pushing him backwards and to his feet. Finally he stood up and, on shaky legs, he turned and ran. Lotherin smiled to herself.
“Leave one alive to tell the tale,” she muttered to herself. Jevanna shrugged.
”Don’t see why. He might’ve have some silver pieces on him…”
Lotherin raised an eyebrow at Jevanna. Jev eventually grinned wickedly at her friend and chuckled.
“Liked your ‘wrath of the Scarlet Order’ line. That should keep him quiet for months!” Jevanna said.
“I can’t help it,” Lotherin replied. “I still love to terrorise the peasantry.”
Jevanna chuckled all the way back to Sten’s corpse. It was only when she pulled something from his pouch that she stopped.
“Oh. Crap.” Jevanna looked up at Lotherin and tossed something in her direction. Lotherin caught it by reflex and studied it.
It was a badge, forged of cheap copper, the clasp on the back broken. Lotherin turned it over in her hand.
“Syndicate,” Jevanna said in reply to the frown on Lotherin’s face. “Defias with bigger plans. Maybe we should move camp..?”
Lotherin considered this course of action. Then she considered the prospect of a good fight. Without Galvinoth around to divert her passions, the old urge to kill and maim things was coming back strongly.
“Let them come,” Lotherin said. “If they want to die, so be it.” Jevanna smiled.
“Good,” she replied, then stifled a yawn. “I’m too tired to move camp as it is. And besides, no way we’ll get Felstaff started again tonight.” The donkey chose that moment to let out a sleepy snort in emphasis of this fact.
With this agreed, Lotherin made to dispose of the bodies, leaving Jevanna to secure the camp with tripwires and flashbomb alarms. No-one was going to get close to them again tonight without their knowledge.
As she did so, she looked up at the stars twinkling in the night sky, and smiled.
“Stay safe, Anaïs,” Jevanna whispered.
