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Post by anakin on Jan 31, 2009 6:06:52 GMT -8
He came here often. He strode through the deserted battlefields and walked the camps, offering relief from pain and an end to suffering. Many welcomed his coming, some feared it, some tried to fight against him. But he was always ultimately triumphant. It was fated to be so. This night he had saddled his beloved horse and rode forth, clad in a cloak that covered his tall robed form with a blue deeper than infinity and a veil that hid his tired face from sight. Guiding his beloved steed through the shadows, none stirred at his coming. He breathed the chill night air of Narnia and Cair Paravel and started to ride to the place where his night's mission lay, passing soldiers that nodded aproovingly. He looked at the guard of the gate as he opened it for him to get out. He bestowed a last smile upon him and, with a single word to his beloved steed, galloped away into the night... He halted his horse and slipped off his back, patting his neck and silently asking him to stay. "There you go, Valinor" he said patting him. He snorted in agreement and he pulled his sword from its place on Valinor's back. He looked around. The place was located between Lantern Waste and the Western Woods near Narnia's borders with Telmar. It was the cauldron pool. It collected waters that ran from the river. There were very few Talking Beasts or Men or Dwarfs, or people of any sort, in that part of the wood. Well, Michael Aurelius Thorn was on a mission. He had to guard that certain location. He couldn't figure out why. He sat down, pulling his pipe out of his cloak's pocket. He lit the tip and smoked. He hummed, looking around. |
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Post by devona on Jan 31, 2009 11:36:36 GMT -8
For an animal of his size, Goliath moved with elegance and silence astounding for an animal of his size. Sitting on his back, Devona had one leg up across her flank, giving her knees a rest from being in the stirrups all day. One hand held her stud's reins and the other rested along the flank of her thigh, at ease in the woods and on this horse's back.
Even with her dark, olive green riding jacket adorning her body, she was slightly chilled in the shade of the trees. She was not too worried about pulling out her long cloak, as she knew there was a clearing ahead where she could soak up the sun and warm her. She pulled her leg off her horse's neck and slipped it back into the stirrup. Taking Goliath's reins a little tighter, she pressed her heels into his sides, sending him into a gallop.
She broke through the trees in only minutes and into the clearing. She reined the Friesian in, bringing him down to a walk as she moved towards the pool, deciding water would be good for both of them. Only when she came closer did she realize another person sitting there. In mere seconds her bow was off her saddle and armed with an arrow, aimed and ready to fire. Goliath had moved to a stop the minute she had pulled the bow, his large head lifted and ears pricked forward in curiosity.
The elf did not speak, simply waited, ready for an attack. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Jan 31, 2009 14:59:01 GMT -8
He growled as he lit his pipe and inhaled the soothing poison. The damn addiction had him itching for one all day. Now that he got it into his system, he felt much better now. He knew he was going to be in some serious trouble. So that was why he wasn't hurrying to get back home. The Kings and Queens of Narnia had told him not to go wandering off like that all of the time for long periods of times, especially not without telling them where he was going. But he couldn't help it. He needed to escape this place, and he needed to get away sometimes. And at times it would be late at night, or early in the morning, and he wasn't about to go knocking on their door, announcing that he was leaving for this long of a time. The fact was, he never knew where he was going, or how long he was going to be back for. He hated setting limits for himself, and he liked doing things his own way. He didn't like control and restraints, and being in this army gave him those things and more. He hated it.
It was about time. His whole body ached, and he just wanted to take the lognest hot shower of his life from all of this. Getting out his sword, Marcus looked at his reflection on the sword. He was pale and scarred looking, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked pretty bad actually. He looked more like a ranger than a general. Sighing once more, he heard hoof beats, and then the well known sound an arrow made as it was making its way to the bow. "I wouldn't do that if I were you" he said, not looking at his enemy.
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Post by devona on Jan 31, 2009 19:29:07 GMT -8
Devona was still at the ready, even though the man would not look at her. Her hand held easily to her weapon, string drawn tight and ready to fire at even the slightest slip of grip. Her hair fell in her face and her entrancing green eyes, but it did not inhibit her sight or her aim.
At his words, she dropped her aim ever so slightly and loosed the arrow so it landed at his feet and, by the time it struck into the ground, another was at the ready. Her eyes observed him, measuring his movements or any change or any reason to cause a far more lethal aim. "And why not?" She asked in her deep, elegant voice, face set in an emotionless poker face. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 1, 2009 0:18:48 GMT -8
Marcus smiled. He held his sword tightly. He was expecting her reaction. True, the general of the army could foretell everyone's reaction even though he didn't know them. Well, he knew each and every one of his soldiers. They trusted him with their lives, and so did Marcus. Treason was not an option. He knew they would betray him. Nor the Kings and Queens of Narnia. It wasn't in their nature. "Because if you kill the General of the Narnian Army while he's on duty, you'll have to face the wrath of the Kings and Queens of Narnia" he said in a deep voice demanding respect, getting up and facing his enemy. He could help but smile at the scene.
He whistled melodically and Valinor, his horse, came to his aid. Marcus patted him on the face, right above his eyes. "Good boy" he said as he whispered to his ear an Elvish poem. The language of the elves always relaxed Valinor. Valinor snorted in agreement. He looked back at the girl. "I do not wish to fight you" he said, as he lowered his sword. He started to hum an Elvish song.
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Post by devona on Feb 1, 2009 7:27:36 GMT -8
When he told her his rank, she lowered her bow and unloaded it, taking her arrow and slipping it back into the quiver on her back. Holding her bow loosely at her side, she watched him with her intense green eyes, face still emotionless. She reached and grasped Goliath's mane, swinging her leg over the saddle and using the horse's main to lower her to the ground so she would not fall. She moved with grace, showing far too many winters in this world.
On the ground she was a tiny thing. Standing at only a little over five foot, hr head barely reached over her stallion's shoulder with her slightly heeled riding boots on. She simply watched the man across from her, one of her hands resting on Goliath's thick, ebony neck. When the general began speaking in Elvish, her own language, her emotionless exterior broke, her mouth dropping open slightly and her eyes wide.
He was humming the lullaby her mother had sung to her as a child. She was one of the last of her kind. How did he know their poems? "How do you know our language?" She asked sharply, eyes still wide. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 1, 2009 8:12:23 GMT -8
Marcus looked at the girl as she lowered her bow. He smiled. He was always getting things done the way he wanted them to. Well, not unless the Kings and Queens though otherwise. He couldn't match the Kings and Queens of Narnia. His place was right in front of them, a human shield, one that could protect them from any kind of danger. But, could he? He was just a general. He was the one who could win battles easily. The one who was a great fighter. That was his life. All he could do was fight, kill and win battles. Easy.
He was always demanding respect. On the ground he was seen as a rather tall man. Standing a little over than six foot three had taken its toll on the general of the narnian army. He couldn't sneak up on people, as he stood out wherever he went. He was fast, though he new that tall humans couldn't run fast. Strange. Well, he was good at sword-fighting and at killing others. What more could he ask for?
"There's an old saying which says that you should keep track of your enemies and that you should know everything about your friends. I learned to speak Elvish a long time ago" he said as he remembered those long lessons with his father. He smiled at the memory. "You are an elf then, I presume" he said.
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Post by devona on Feb 1, 2009 20:48:23 GMT -8
"I thought it was keep your friends close but your enemies closer." She said softly, arching one of her delicate eyebrows nearly to her hairline. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him, clearing her throat. She ran a hand up through her hair, pushing it out of her face and her vision.
She then nodded. "Yes, one o the last. Well, the last that I personally know of." She reached one hand out towards him, covered in black, leather gloves. "I'm Devona." She introduced herself, hand extended in greeting. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 2, 2009 10:05:15 GMT -8
"You are correct, indeed..." he said as he paused for a moment. "I was trying to figure out how exactly the saying was, but to no avail" he said and lifted his right hand to his chin in order to touch his small beard. Anyone that knew him could tell that he was feeling nervous or embarassed. Truth be told, Marcus Aurelius Thorn hated being proven wrong.
He smiled as she said she was probably the last elf. He noticed that she was wearing gloves. He looked down at his own bare hands. He extended his hand towards her and shook her hand. "I am Marcus. Nice to meet you" he said as he lowered his head in a gesture of respect. Was it getting cold, or was it his own idea? He knew what he had to do. Light a fire.
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Post by devona on Feb 2, 2009 11:46:45 GMT -8
She smiled one of her half-hearted smiles when he introduced himself. "The pleasure is mine, Marcus." she replied in her polished, elven voice. "So you would consider the elves an enemy? Forgive me if I mistake your words." Her green eyes took him in, observant with a cover of relaxation and calm. Devona was always on alert, she had learned to be so.
She shivered slightly as her body noticed the cold. She could use a nice, warm fire right now to warm her feet and hands. "Shall I build a fire, Marcus?" She asked softly, her hand dropping back to her side. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 2, 2009 12:05:38 GMT -8
He smiled back at her. "Now, actually I consider them as an ally. In fact, they have helped us during hard times." he said. "No harm done" he reassured her as he smiled again. He looked at her with his blue eyes. Blue eyes met blue as Marcus looked down. The only thing Michael was afraid of was love. He was actually very shy. Funny. The general of the army shouldn't be shy. The one who had faced many dangers couldn't and shouldn't be afraid of girls.
Well, the elf was different than most girls Marcus had met in his life. Most of them wouldn't even think about building a fire. Marcus nodded, excitement flowing in his veins, an amused look on his face.
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Post by devona on Feb 2, 2009 16:55:33 GMT -8
Devona nodded in reply, her green eyes turning a slight shade of blue, so they were almost teal as she knelt. She gathered a few pieces of wood and quickly built up a pile perfect for a smile fire. She checked it over once or twice to make sure all was in order before turning slightly, still in her crouched position to pick up a rock. The moved to where Goliath waited and dug through his saddle bags to find her flint. The horse followed obediently to her side.
A few strikes and a fire was hissing to life. She cleared her throat then moved to Goliath's side, quickly beginning to take his saddle off. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 3, 2009 8:55:06 GMT -8
He watched her as she gathered wood and made a fire. He whistled for his horse to come and join him. Valinor obeyed. "Here boy" he said as he patted his head. His black horse snorted in agreement. Well, Marcus wouldn't have been here if it hadn't been for Valinor. His beloved steed had saved him countless times against deadly foes.
There. She had done it. He felt warmth flow through his veins as he smiled. He took Valinor's saddle off, and spoke in Elvish to him, ordering him to stay with them. He patted Valinor's head again, smiling as he saw his reaction. Valinor neighed in pleasure. "There you go, my friend...You need to stay warm"
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Post by devona on Feb 3, 2009 12:49:31 GMT -8
When she had finished taking Goliath's tack off, Devona sat it on the ground gently to keep it from being damaged. She then gently stroked his muzzle and ran a hand down his long, black forelock. "Kaima, Goliath." She whispered to her stud softly and he nickered, rubbing her face with his large, ebony head.
She then moved to sit by the fire, watching Goliath move not far off to graze. She then turned her attentions to her companion, one of her long legs pulled up to her chest and the other laying out before her. [/blockquote] |
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Post by anakin on Feb 4, 2009 4:36:34 GMT -8
Marcus patted his horse once again as it sat down next to the fire, as Marcus sat next to him. "Smart move, my friend" he said as he caressed his horse's neck. He smiled as he rubbed his face with his head.
Marcus relaxed as he retrieved his pipe. He inhaled the soothing poison once again. "So, may I ask why are you here?" he said as he made circles with the smoke he was inhaling. He hummed an old elvish song once again with his deep voice.
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