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Post by Vaidia on Jan 27, 2009 22:19:42 GMT -5
He challenged, invited, sent word to intangible paper; a declaration of war, battle, argument. Too many a before had puzzled into her guise, not bothering to question whether it was correct, if the piece she played was correct. This one, the scribe of the burly message, had not let the perfumes of her demeanour daunt him, lull him from the stench of her lying actions. He kicked the dust of his fallen tower, using it as a revealing veil, and showing a weakness all the same. The woman had found her toy, and the grin of her mental joys only became one continued ladieness in physicality.
But, of course, as many things were to be, her reply of same hostility but exceeding delicacy would have to wait, for the one she was searching for had come. The woman could wait, she was a patient hunter when needed.
Lola couldn't help but give an unguarded smile to Caleb, the light of gratitude shown pure in her eyes, as well as amusement at the words he spoke to the 'knight' Horacius. They we're very similar to the ones she would've said, had she not been interrupted. This thought returned the shell to her eyes before the disappointed anger could show, leaving only a glassy imprint of the previous emotions.
"Charmed," Lola would reply to Caleb's inquiry of how she was, giving a sarcastic smile, the lady receding within for a more comfortable visage. She mearly gave a sly nod to his comment of her 'invulnerability' now, knowing that the festering of an old grudge would pale any rule of this place. At least, it used too.
Her eyes once again took light at the 'knights' words, the urge to parry and strike; twist and break his words arising. She would think that this man would, out of any, know that a dog was a very chivalrous creature, loyal and passionate. He should, after his actions just shown, strive to be so, because of how else his words could be twisted. It was a far stretch, yes, but he could be indirectly be calling her a b****. As such, being a lady again, offence would be taken.
Turning to Caleb, with a fiesty smile that could not be seen by her turned back to Horacius, she gave a dramatic sigh hinting annoyance and hurt.
"His words are insensitive, and I see the truth. I would not accept his chivalry, now, for I know it is less than a rats." Lola once again heaved out a breath, the wit vanishing from her with this, leaving only femininity.
"Perhaps you, Caleb, would be so kind to escort me instead?" The woman continued, holding out her arm in a graceful hook, "I am very curious to hear what the Guild knows about this Cryph."
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Post by knightc3 on Jan 29, 2009 5:04:43 GMT -5
Caleb smiled at Lola's comment. Nothing seemed to have changed. She seemed the same old assassin who constantly tried to play with people's emotions, challenging them at every opportunity she would get. He looked at her as she expressed her wish to be escorted and complied with a second thought. He was just so glad to see her. Horacius was behind them both, walking quietly, tolerating this act that the two assassins seemed to be putting on.
Soon they were in front of Miriam’s room. He knocked once, nodding at Lola, as if asking her to be a bit patient, before he entered. He stopped after they all had walked in. He turned sideways so Miriam and Horacius was on each side of him and gave the introductions briefly before continuing. “Miriam, Horacius here seems to think that I am exaggerating about the need for Cryph to meet death as quickly as possible. I was hoping you could help convince him for me.” He turned to Horacius and smiled, “If she does convince you, you are free to accompany us on the mission.” He paused and nodded at Lola before starting to leave the two in the room. He turned at the door, then added, “Oh and we leave tomorrow… that is if she is healed by then.” Horacius was smart enough to get the hint no doubt.
Soon Caleb was walking towards his own room which was on another floor, with Lola by his side. Once in, he waved a hand from a few feet within the room and the door shut behind Lola. He wanted to embrace her, as glad as he was to see her alive. But he really wasn’t sure if she would find it appropriate. So he just stood there in front of her and smiled. “I am very surprised to see you Lola. How… did you survive?”
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Post by The Mammoth on Jan 29, 2009 17:56:57 GMT -5
Horacius smirked at the woman's clever response. She was wiser than he gave her credit for. Realizing that he once again had let his emotions get the better of him, Horacius reined it in. Ever since that day when he learned that all he had believed in had turned on him, he had been a somewhat broken man. Losing his family, losing his purpose, losing everything save his life, he found himself losing control to his emotions more often than previously. He used to be as stonefaced as any other Paladin, now his emotions managed to come to the surface more and more as he aged. He nodded his head as the woman took Caleb's arm and headed inward. He was obviously correct, she was an assassin. Her mannerisms and actions insinuated nothing but that. She was clever, she was viper tongued, and she was quick on her feet. An assassin without those qualities is nothing. Horacius figured it was possible she had put the life behind her, but he assumed that she wouldn't be here if that were the case.
Horacius followed the two through the halls as he was being led toward the injured elf. Horacius reminded himself that he would reserve judgment of this elf as it was possible she was not like those that he had met previously. He entered the room behind Caleb, passing Lola and stopping for a moment as something shot through his senses. He stopped and turned his head, looking her in the face for a moment.
That spell... That's a variation of Death and Decay, but seemingly not of a normal necromancer... And from the feel of it, its been a long time since it was cast... Such power in that spell, such difference to normal necromancy... Why is she not dead?
He shook off the feeling of the powerful spell, waiting to confront the woman on it later, and approached the elf. He nodded his head and offered his hand to the elf for a shake. Elves were proud, offering a handshake would be the first effort to see if this one was too proud to be "associated" with humans...
"Assassins love to mince words... Try and relax, I'll heal your wounds."
Horacius knelt down by her leg and held out his hands over the wound. From his shoulder, a glowing golden light began emanating from him. It swirled down his arms and met at his hands. He chanted a few words in a language that seemed derivative of latin. As his hands glowed, the wound began to heal, torn muscle being reformed, severed flesh repaired, and most of the scarring kept to a minimum. He raised his hands and the golden light seemed to absorb back into his body.
"There, you should be fine to walk now." Horacius smiled, stepping back, "This Cryph seems to be a larger problem than these assassins, I assume you can verify that?"
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Post by Da Pwny on Jan 29, 2009 19:43:04 GMT -5
At first, her face questioned the gesture. Miriam hadn't the time to learn of human customs- her first instinct would have been to bow slightly with a nod of the head, if possible- but she quickly related to other scenes she had seen recently where greetings were apparently happening, and extended her own, albeit reluctantly and with some effort given her condition. Retreating the limb at the first possible moment, she nodded, wadding the sheets in her hands as the healing took place. No healing happened without there being some pain first, although whatever magicks he used minimized the latter. Her weapons laid in plain sight beside the bed, although the dagger was missing; another little habit she had picked up along the way, as it laid beneath her pillow, just in case.
As the pain subsided, she was questioned about him. It took considerable effort to suppress her first inclination- to simply curse him and all his children and every soldier under him- and instead, offered a halfhearted smirk, opening with "I'ma take that you aren't from around here."
Swallowing her pride momentarily- which was a difficult thing to do, due to the sheer size of what had been pounded into her from birth- she pushed herself back, shifting the pillow just enough to act as a back rest, yet still covering the stinger that she would not hesitate to unveil should she feel endangered. This man, however, did not strike her as harmful in intent; neither had that bandit, though, at first. "I could curse that which I dare not speak, but to do so would be pointless, and a waste of what energy I have left.
"Twice he has sent his men through my home, once to slay, pillage, and rape my kin without reason or need, and a second time to... 'clean up'. Of the others in the village, only a few remain, and those that are able-bodied have not the heart to resist, nor the skills to take up arms. Even if they did, the odds would be far from our favor. Out of eleven children, a loving couple, and three grandparents, he left only me, my mother, and my sister. My two remaining blood relatives cannot fight, my sister having been a cripple since she was young, but they found other methods of which to... demean them. I wat..."
Miriam finally had to stop to clear her vision, her eyes clouded by hate, which only lightly hid the guilt and sadness within her heart. Even with all the training she had received, and all the miles she had walked, that sight still made her cry. "I watched... them do things to... to her... that I cannot describe... And to know that I could do nothing... that was worst... worse than blindness... worse than retardation... worse than death... Her screams still... still haunt me... her smile... gone forever... her plea... Oh gods, why didn't I do anything?!"
Wracked by tears that dripped with guilt, she covered her face, burying it in her hands, trying her hardest not to cry, and yet she could not hold it back any longer. "'Help me' she cried... and I did nothing... 'Help me' she plead as they... they desecrated her... and I did... nothing... Now I look at her, and she is dead.... she might as well be... what there was of the child left in her was taken when they raped her... Now she cries in her sleep, every night she cries... What choice had I but to volunteer when our Elder requested a messenger?"
Miriam's fingernails dug into her head, but she didn't care. Even when they opened fresh wounds, she did not care. "If.... If, for no other reason... I want him to pay... I want him to pay for what he did... did to her. Gods, I wish she were dead. Then she wouldn't have to face her nightmares anymore. Then she could sleep peacefully for the first time in years as she crosses over the river. But I cannot bear to take her life from her... I know killing him will not bring her smile back, but maybe... maybe she will have some peace. And others will not need to know what she... what she fears every night. We had nothing... we were nothing... they could have attacked one of the villages to any side of us and have gotten more from them, but we were the only ones who were attacked. Another reason... why... I want to know why... I guess."
Having exhausted her energy, the young elf sighed heavily, sinking back into the bed like she had been before. A sniffle or two still caught her, but for the most part she was done. The blood that ran past her vision didn't even bother her as she rolled slightly, snuggling under the warm covers as blissful sleep found her once more. Still, before she lost all conscious thought and motor control, her lips moved one last time, though no word came from them. Thanks... it was not something she (nor, apparently, any of her kind) gave often, but it seemed appropriate now, especially to one who had to listen to her for this long...
Raven hair was disrupted slightly as her neck sagged, allowing her head to fall to the side as her mind was engulfed in darkness once more, her pain washed aside by pure, blissful rest, something she had gotten little of on the road, and even less as of late...
*bugger that was long x-x*
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Post by The Mammoth on Jan 29, 2009 20:07:54 GMT -5
Horacius listened intently, offering his facial expression of sympathy as the only help he could give. She was no doubt tormented by the things that Cryph had done, and he regretting bringing it up. Even thought it shed light on the situation he was in, bringing such pain on this seemingly well-meaning elf was not something he enjoyed. He felt sorry for her, as he had his own pain and anger that seethed within him, although his had long been avenged. As she dug her hands into her head, he thought to himself that those were more things he would have to heal. Healing spells came easily enough to the veteran Paladin. It was the stronger spells that exhausted him.
After she had exhausted herself, no doubt from the rage and crying mixed with the pain from the wound, she fell into a sleep, attempting to speak a word he had rarely heard from elves. Horacius brushed the hair from her face and held his hands over her head, healing the wounds as he did before. Once the glow was gone, he noticed the dagger under her pillow. He grinned, as this message told him she was as uncomfortable here as he, and that meant she was not an assassin. Horacius turned from the bed and looked out the hall for any spying assassin that may be close. He couldn't help but be alert for any attack. Without any idea where to go, Horacius figured his best bet was to stay put here. He could avoid unnecessary encounters and keep watch on the elf who was as out of place as he was.
He pulled a chair out from the desk nearby slowly, avoiding any noise it may cause from the ground. He moved slowly to avoid causing too much noise with his armor. The elvish woman needed her rest, that much was apparent.
Under his breath, Horacius mumbled.
"It seems that this Cryph is the greater problem..."
The assassins will have to wait...
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Post by Vaidia on Jan 31, 2009 0:50:27 GMT -5
She knew the look, the feel, the names of those weapons that flashed through the air; the glint of recognition, the hair thin breath between life and a slit throat, the glowing steel of metal reforged into a newly sharpened edge. She knew the look, the feel, the breeze of the weapons that breezed by her; the blunted repression of loathing, the reluctance of an clean weapon sheathed, the protection of a recently mended shield. Yes, the electric stares, saturating the air with waifs of tension, it all meant one thing: People recognized her, and were not happy to see her there.
It was amusing to watch the few wandering eyes widen upon seeing flesh of hers living, and even more those that first brushed across her, then returned to do the former. It was a consideration that, if she did not put on the lady assassins guise and allowed for one of a nobody to veil her, would there be so many breathes caught upon nails of the past? She did not think so. Lola recalled the rare occasions where an assassin of the Guild happened across her path, and they did not even give a twitch of their current confused look to the merry Hardingfele player. Unfortunately, they didn't even bother to twitch open their pouch for a coin either, an action she would certainly hold a grudge against if she saw said assassins.
Lola brought her wandering gaze to see that they arrived at where this alleged Ale'eno elf was being held, and Caleb directing the Paladin into the room. Her eyes followed him, reflecting on his bout of maturity that he now showed, the aged look of his mind finally showing through in his actions. She saw the twitch of his muscles, head crooking to the side suddenly, surprising her into a blink, eyes closing into darkness for a second, then opening to analyze the look the man gaze her, he now past and entering into the Ale'eno elf's room. What was that? She did catch enough of the breeze his expression gave, the air passing by to quickly to inhale, to taste and pick apart. Only a whisper of it was caught, barely enough to clue her. An edge, a dash of surprise. How curious.
They began to head off again, much to Lola's disappointment, she too curious to hear what the elf had to say, to see if the fearful rumours were true, to confirm her own suspicions and actions. But, there were other sources that she could pull from, one being the man leading her now. Her gaze flickered to him for a moment, she now trailing a slight behind him, recalling the lingering feeling of his arm wound around hers, the slight reserved tension he held her arm with. The man was glad to see her, anyone could tell that; bewildered, even, as most of those who recognized her now, but he in a more positive light. What come out of this little meeting, the woman wondered.
Lola scanned her gaze aross the door the two now stood at, Caleb unlocking it and slipping into the room beyond, beckoning her to follow. A witchy smile played across her lips. Most of the time, when two of the opposite sex had a private 'meeting' inside a bedchamber, it was for something a little more... interesting, she'd leave it at that. Who knew, that could be very well what this moment would yield. Dark eyebrows rose, an amused twitch as she walked in, the smile lingering, then twisting into something of new deviousness as she saw the look Caleb was giving her, vanishing in the next moment. She would not be the provoker, the temptress now. She'd leave that to him.
“I am very surprised to see you Lola. How… did you survive?”
Lola would give an innocent smile, her eyes breaking his stare as an elaborate single shoulder shrug dominated her movements, her hand swooping across her, sleeve slipping up her arm slightly as she fixed the collar of her shirt, it had slipped down the elegant curve slightly.
"You know how resourceful I can be," the woman would say, eyes boring into him, a moment of emotion flickering there, before being washed away by a wink from her right eye.
"I think what you should be worrying about is how we will accomplish this mission."
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Post by Da Pwny on Jan 31, 2009 3:46:17 GMT -5
Yes, sleep. Deep, restful sleep, the kind one wakes from feeling only refreshed and energized, prepared to assault another day. The kind Miriam had missed for so long, having been forced to sleep lightly for fear of being robbed. And yet, even here her dreams haunted her, one inparticular giving her fits of restlessness during the night; not enough to destroy her blissful unconscious state, but enough that she remembered it well. And how could she not, with it having occurred nearly every night for the last month?
--[The sky had opened up some time before, pouring bucket after bucket onto the earth where Cryph fell to a kneel, the silvery gleam of a mithril sword shining bright in the full moon overhead as she, Miriam let it fall to her side. The man she had spent months, perhaps even years now following, was about to die by her hand. Nothing would destroy this moment, or so she thought.
His face, darkened by a cloud that placed itself perfectly over him from miles above, showed only a blank expression, the pale illumination of his mouth curling into a wicked smile as she took a step back, a single trickle of blood adorning the worn but still-sharp blade as it slid towards the tip. Finally, she took several cautious steps forward, slowly raising the sword over her head, preparing to end the existence of the most evil presence she could imagine.
However, before she could end him, everything around her went black, and a sneering voice like gravel scraping a concrete road questioned her, telling her "You still don't know, do you?"]--
Elsewhere, in the realm of the waking, footsteps could be heard outside the elven woman's room, in the hall; soon after, a soft, swift rap-rap-rap came from the door, almost akin to the pitter-patter of a cat's paws upon the floor above. Outside stood a lightly-armored female attendant, one of the personal guards for the Elders, the particular Elder's crest engraved upon the shoulderplates she wore. Dull redish-brown hair flowed down behind in braids to about her shoulders, and her skin was of a darkened tone, but her stance and height suggested newness to her position. Even through the visor of the mask, her eyes shone with a bright blue light of innocence- whether it was faked or real would be hard to tell, but her age was on the shorter end of the stick, possibly barely a few years over half Miriam's.
Under her stationary arm sat two letters; one was of no importance, but the other was a reply to the letter Miriam's Elder had given her, a more official reply than the simple word-of-mouth she had been given. After a few moment's of silence, the knock was repeated, and a soft, almost childish voice followed "Um... excuse me, is there someone there? If y'all's asleep, I can just leave this under the door, I think..."
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Post by The Mammoth on Jan 31, 2009 7:00:00 GMT -5
Horacius sat there for a moment, tempted to let the silence hang until the younger woman outside. Her voice, however, rang out with such a hidden innocence that it compelled Horacius to stand. The assassins may have been recruiting young, but taking in children into their ranks was beyond appalling. Horacius lightly opened the door, and standing beneath him was a younger girl. Horacius looked down at her, she was hardly even past being a little child that should be playing in the streets. He shook his head, and knelt down to her height.
"I'll take that, ma'am." He said, a kind-hearted smile crossing his face. He wanted so desperately to free this girl from the corruption that the assassins had no doubt struck to her. However, he knew his efforts would be futile. No doubt the girl had already fallen prey to the lies that Caleb and his allies could weave. He took the package, saw that it was intended for the elf behind him, Miriam. He thanked the girl and let her go. Despite every muscle and bit on his body telling him to try and convince her to leave this place, he knew that should he sway her only slightly, she may be executed for asking too many questions. He could not risk it, even if in the future she may be another assassin. He had to give her a chance. If her chance proved to be wasted, another would strike her down just as the aging Paladin had done so many times.
Turning from the door and shutting it behind him lightly, he looked over to the bed and tossed the letter next to Miriam. He left it lie there and sat back down on his chair. It was obvious the elf was having a nightmare, as she was sweating profusely. After a bit of thinking, he decided it best not to wake her. He did not know her well enough to intrude on sleep. When she awoke, she could deal with the package. Horacius lowered his head, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them back up.
Don't get comfortable old man... This isn't a safe place to sleep.
He raised his head back from the chair and sat, watching a small rat in the corner of the room nibble on a small stale bread crumb it had found on the floor...
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Post by Da Pwny on Jan 31, 2009 23:00:02 GMT -5
*aw crap, I didn't mean to make her that young x-x for some reason I was thinking 33 instead of 22 XD oh well... {brain dies}*
Well, that hadn't gone off as planned. The girl stood there for a moment, dazed, trying to process what had just happened. She had just opened her mouth to speak again when the door was shut right in her face. On top of that, this man seemed to be treating her like a child, which did not sit well. Resisting the urge to throw a tantrum (for she was too old for such things, she reminded herself), she gathered her courage and fearlessly knocked again, slightly louder than before and only twice.
Her grammar faltered slightly as she nervously recited the lines given to her "That wasn't all... Mr. Horraye... Horatius.... Mistress val Kiir wishes an aah... audience with you, sir."
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Post by The Mammoth on Feb 1, 2009 5:33:12 GMT -5
Horacius shook his head as he sat back down, hearing a rapping on the door once again. He stood and walked over to the door. Once he had opened it, he looked down at the girl before him.
"I apologize, I assumed you were finished." He said, before continuing.
"However, I am no hound to be beckoned by your mistress. If she wishes and audience, she can come to me." Horacius said calmly. He had no intention of following every calling voice of this place. The assassins were comfortable in their hole, thinking that they ran the world. How wrong he intended to prove them...
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Post by knightc3 on Feb 3, 2009 6:48:19 GMT -5
He had taken the liberty to look Lola over thoroughly. She might think there was some kind of sexual intent involved seeing the intensity and the meticulousness of the stare. Of course, that was not the intended reason, but it surely was a perk. Hey, he was no monk and there wouldn't be a man around who could deny watching her as Caleb did would not be enjoyable for the owner of the gaze.
Of course, his brows dipped just slightly when he saw discrete markings that would escape the eyes of the common man. His had been trained to watch for details or rather things that didn't belong. Though they were subtle enough that he might have ignored them if her collar hadn't given away the markings on her shoulder. Anything that extensive deserved an explanation.
His hand moved somewhat quickly though it wouldn't be felt intrusive to an assassin. To a fellow assassin, he was slow and being polite giving her a chance to object. He raised his hand to the collar she had just pulled up and gently pulled it away from her shoulder with his arm. He stared at the single line for a moment before raising another to touch her skin. His head turned slightly and he gazed into Lola's eyes, asking with concern rather than a smile, "This a side effect of your resourcefulness or is it part of the curse?"
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Post by Da Pwny on Feb 22, 2009 20:45:53 GMT -5
*sick of this taking too long, and finally got teh mental gears to move again*
The girl, indignant, insulted, almost tearful, was about to retaliate when she heard the rap of a distinctive cane nearby, an illuminous hand reaching from the darkness to grasp her shoulder firmly before she could react. ‘That’s enough for today, Zierta’ a familiar voice reassured the young girl quietly in her left ear, patting her in place before shooing her away with ‘Go rest up now. You’ve much work to complete tomorrow.’ The girl glanced up to the overshadowed face that now loomed above her, turned back, bowed quickly to Horacius, then skittered off silently down the hallway.
For only a slight moment, Monmigar val Kiir slackened her usual taunt, no-nonsense face, the tight lines sagging just a bit, a silent sigh exhaled as she watched the girl run off; too soon, however, jade eyes turned back to her query as her features returned, the plain wooden staff held in front of her offset slightly to the side, her face hidden from plain view, just visible enough to see the barest features of one who had lived many years. “Now,” her voice took on a schoolroom teacher’s sternness as she lashed out in tones just loud enough for Horacius to hear, “what gives the likes of yourself the authority to drag an elderly woman from her hovel at this hour of the night? I believe the invitation was the other way around but if it was not, then please, correct me.”
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 5, 2009 20:52:41 GMT -5
((For the love of god... Vaidia the Unreliable is the ONLY one who can spell my character's name right!? ITS NOT THAT HARD! Jeez...))
Horacius smirked.
"I think it was, but if you havn't noticed, I don't care who you are, or how old you are. Assassins and their guild members hold no place in my heart. I care not for your wishes or invitations. If you wish for an audience with me, you'll do so as any normal person would, by giving me a reason to trust you and meet you, or by coming to me... You, only get the latter option." Horacius said calmly, staring into the darkness that the old woman shrouded her face in.
He walked outside the door, hand still on the hilt of his blade. His eyes steady, he looked about the outside of the room for any sight of her assassins. Once the coast was clear, he shut the door behind him so as to not wake the sleeping elf.
"You could have waited, but you didn't. So I take it your age is just for show. Now, what did you want?"
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Post by Da Pwny on Mar 7, 2009 7:18:49 GMT -5
*bah, quitcher b****in'. my fingers slip ONCE and you throw a tantrum ~.~ not as if you've been around the past three weeks anyhow >.>*
A small chuckle escaped from her lips momentarily as she entered, but val Kiir quickly got it under control to prevent disturbing the young woman. Stepping forward, she pulled back the curtain of darkness to reveal a face aged by stress as well as time, stray fiery-red hairs mixed in with grey and pulled back in a single braid, eyes of jade catching the low light, almost distracting from the absence of advanced wrinkles one would expect except for the fact that they had lost their luster through time and age, among other things. Still, a smile came across her, something she had not had in quite some time except around her assistant. “Were you expecting an entourage, in my own house so to speak? And I fear little in this sanctuary because there is nothing left for me to fear, even while others apparently worry much.” The last words were obviously directed at Horacius as she passed by to sit down.
Once seated, she continued, her tone and face returning to their former selves “As for my age, allow me to state that while walking loudly and prominently is not difficult, walking with grace and silence is. As for my reasons, they are my own.” A hand reached up, wrapping around a small potted daisy on the table nearby, minute tremors in her fingers shaking the plant as she caressed the stem. “But not entirely devoid of concern for the expedition leaving tomorrow.
“I’m sure you know this already, but the elven girl is far from innocent, no matter how she acts or behaves. No, no one is innocent, not even this pitiful child, for she has taken the lives of several so far, even if it was in the act of self-defense. I have had my fair share of death and ruination to last for whatever is left of my existence, and you are not immune to revenge and destruction, or are the things I have heard about the Fallen Paladin simply rumors?” val Kiir leaned upon her walking cane, eyes narrowing even though the light had long since been extinguished from them as she awaited an answer.
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 7, 2009 22:39:33 GMT -5
Horacius chuckled as the woman let herself into the room. He listened to her words and responded in kind.
"If I were to drag you from your home, you'd know fear again." Horacius said, pausing, "But you are correct. I am not innocent. Only newborns have that luxury... Man can only strive to do what is right in the face of great evil... Taking life is a last resort if that is the only way to save the lives of the righteous."
Horacius turned his back to the old woman as he moved toward his chair.
"I am not young either, old woman. So save your coming professions of 'what is righteousness'. Your kind matter not to me, and will not sway my judgment. This old Paladin ended a corrupt order that he followed for all his life," He stopped, facing the old woman again, "So I have no reserve about stopping a guild of assassins, as there is no goodness in you for corruption to take root."
Horacius looked the old woman in the eyes for his final words.
"So say what you will, but none of it matters, as Cryph will fall, and so will you."
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