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Curse of Darkness VII - Britania
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<blockquote data-quote="Greenfield" data-source="post: 5934146" data-attributes="member: 6669384"><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">It took some doing before Penn figured the best way to handle his burdens. The torches weren't large or heavy, but he had to trail them behind, lest they singe his wings.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">This time his course was a tight circle over their position, to gain altitude while the others moved into position. Then, when he saw that all was ready, he dove down from the eastern sky, trading altitude for speed, and darted across the farmyard swift as an arrow. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The first torch landed on the roof of the dining hall, and the second on the bunk house. Then he was off and away, before anyone could see or react.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">From the cover of the gully, Sylus saw the fires catch, and the men in the yard react. Reaching low, he twined his fingers into the thick grass and said a single word: " </span><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><em>Rootbind</em>"!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Thank you, Apellenea", he whispered afterwards, a near silent prayer to a fallen friend.</span> </p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Within the farmyard, the grasses began to twist and writhe, seeking, reaching, grasping. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The doors of both the bunk and meal houses burst open as the occupants fled the smoke and flames, only to find themselves caught in the twining grasses outside. Men in back pressed forward, toppling those whose feet were first so entangled, and many were trampled. But even the stampede of bodies slowed to a halt as the second rank found themselves snared in turn. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The battle had begun with panic and confusion, and the Centaurs charged in with spears leveled.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">A lone scout, looking bedraggled from a long night afoot, stumbled into the barnyard, screaming a warning. "They're coming! Hundreds of them! Run for your lives!"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">And from the east rose a figure of terrifying size and power, a dark warrior as tall as a rooftop, whose blade looked ready to scythe through all before him.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Surrender or Die!", thundered the giant as he smashed his way through the paddock gate.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The Bretons ran in panic, where they could move at all, and the Centaurs ran them down without mercy.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"You there!", cried one officer. "Pikemen, form the wall! Hold that line! Archers, make ready!"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">But his orders, firm and clear as they were, went unheeded in the madness of the moment, and he quickly found his own feet rooted to the ground.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">One soldier, a champion by his bearing, screamed his defiance, and strove to tear his feet free of their restraints, eager to close with the foe.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">He needn't have bothered. Cassius long strides were carrying him towards the champion. His immense blade twisted as he swung, so he laid the flat of his blade across the man instead of cleaving him in twain.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The heavy blow caught the man under the breastplate and lifted him off his feet, tearing away great lumps of sod in the process. He landed heavily a man's height away, where he lay gasping, struggling for breath.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"There's a hundred more!", screamed the scout. "They hid behind invisibility!"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">And sure enough, the sounds of huge pounding feet could be heard charging in from the western edge of the camp.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Those who had not already done so were now casting their weapons away, raising their hands in surrender or prostrating themselves before the incoming force.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">With a snarl of frustration, the commander threw down his own blade, where the tangling grasses quickly covered it in a living scabbard.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">And it was over.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The battle at the barracks had been the bloodier one, and Marcus found himself pressed to service aiding the wounded of both camps. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The "scout" grinned and his features melted to reveal Nedel's smiling face.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The commander's face contorted with rage as he realized the true nature of the assault. But it was too late. As the grasses released the captives, they found themselves facing a line of angry Centaurs, while Sylus and Imagina collected their discarded arms.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The Centaur colts were released, and quickly raced for freedom.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"They'll be back, you know.", Marcus confided to Lowspear. "They won't give up."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Let them come. We won't be here.", Stonehoof called in answer. "Your guides have invited us to talks with their king beyond the wall. If those talks go well, we'll be able to make homes for ourselves in his lands. We left the camp with orders to make ready, and we'll be gone within the hour."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"I'm surprised by one thing.", Nedel posed, half in question. "I can see why you took none of the humans as prisoner, but you didn't even mark them. Many would have laid a brand on them, or taken a finger. You even healed their wounded. Why?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Stonehoof regarded the Human with a mixture of sadness and surprise. "A very human question. What good would it serve to maim or kill those who have already yielded the field? Taking vengeance would only inspire more vengeance, and it would never end. "</span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">They finished their trek in silence as the companions considered this answer.</span> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">[FONT=&quot]*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">A cold wind blew in from the sea, carrying its salty scent for miles. The low shores had given way to bluffs and finally high sea cliffs as the Centaur clan moved north. They followed the roads at first, so their tracks would be lost among the other traffic, but even so they had to dodge patrols regularly. They didn't ask if the patrols were from the hunters or were just normal traffic, for they really couldn't afford to have anyone carrying tales of their travels.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The nights were bitter cold, even with the tents for shelter, and the sunrise never truly came, just the ashen gray of winter skies, and the sunless curse.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">After three days riding the coast road they turned inland, following the river road towards a place called Hamstead, if the mile markers were to be believed. Here the woods grew thicker, giving them shelter from both the winter wind and from prying eyes. First and Windemere were saddened by the conditions here, for without the sun the woods were slowly dying. Yet they pressed on.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">They turned north once more before crossing a shire called Nottingham, keeping their path clear of human settlement. Slowly the way climbed, and the ground grew rockier. Ahead they could see the mountainous heights of their new home, bleak and forbidding in the gray of winter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The clan hesitated when they reached the wall. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"If we cross this, we take a side in the Human wars.", Stonehoof warned. "If this King in Dunphries will not have us, we will have nothing at all."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"The Breton aren't our friends now", Lowspear countered, "so what matter if they think the worse of us for this? We can't betray a trust that was never given."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">First thought long and hard on this before coming to a decision. "Let each choose for themselves. Those who aren't sure, let them stay south of the Wall. There are woods here we can hunt, and streams we can fish. That way there will be a welcome for the rest, should we be turned away. And if we find welcome in the north, then we'll send for our friends here, that they may join us."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The decision stirred the clan into low turmoil, for while they recognized the wisdom of the First, they didn't want to split their community. Both groups would be the weaker for it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Then Windemere clenched his jaw, hugged his mentor, and declared, "We who stay south will gather by the milestone, yonder. Share out the supplies fairly, for the winter is still with us, and spring may come late. And I'll accept no half decisions among us. A family either stays here, or the family ventures north." He clearly didn't want to stay behind, but he knew that if there wasn't a healer and leader here, then none would stay.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">In the end, about half the folk decided to stay and await word in the spring. So a few dozen Centaurs crossed the Wall with their guides, hoping for a future in mountainous Pictland.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">This place could be beautiful.", Stonehoof remarked as the went. "From afar the mountains look forbidding, but there are meadows and forests, places where a family could grow."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Aye.", agreed Fergus. "The thistle grows thick here, and in the spring all these hills will be purple and green with their blossoms. E'en now, the land sleeps 'neath her blanket of white, resting for her awakening to come."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">They passed flocks of sheep, feeding on the grasses their tenders laid out for them, harvested last Autumn for this purpose, and riders could be seen in the distance, yet neither Fergus nor Padraig shied away from them. "Those are our people.", the guide explained. "It means that we're close."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">They lead the companions and the Centaur clan through the next low pass and into a coastal valley, culminating in a moderate sized bay facing the sunset.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The farmlands of the area may have lay fallow or been in full cultivation for all anyone could tell, for the blanket of winter hid all from view. A town seemed to wrap around the shoreline, as a mans hands would wrap a warm drink on a cold night, and near the head of the bay rose a ridge of stone, with castle set firmly on top.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The town buzzed with curiosity as the folk spied the odd travelers, beginning the moment they passed the south gate. The Centaur clan kept their weapons sheathed and their bows unstrung, to allay suspicions, but there was no doubt that rumor would easily outpace the truth as the news spread.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The castle rose stark and bleak as they approached, streaks of weathered mortar running down the dark stone like blood from an open wound, and a pair of heads were prominently displayed on pikes outside the gate.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Ah, a welcome sight indeed, after such a journey.", Penn quipped. "No doubt hot baths and great feasts await within."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Best curb that glib tongue, master Bard, lest the King remove it.", Angus advised. "He has little use for dandies."</span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span>[/FONT]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Greenfield, post: 5934146, member: 6669384"] [FONT=Verdana]*** It took some doing before Penn figured the best way to handle his burdens. The torches weren't large or heavy, but he had to trail them behind, lest they singe his wings. This time his course was a tight circle over their position, to gain altitude while the others moved into position. Then, when he saw that all was ready, he dove down from the eastern sky, trading altitude for speed, and darted across the farmyard swift as an arrow. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The first torch landed on the roof of the dining hall, and the second on the bunk house. Then he was off and away, before anyone could see or react.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] From the cover of the gully, Sylus saw the fires catch, and the men in the yard react. Reaching low, he twined his fingers into the thick grass and said a single word: " [/FONT][FONT=Verdana][I]Rootbind[/I]"! "Thank you, Apellenea", he whispered afterwards, a near silent prayer to a fallen friend.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Within the farmyard, the grasses began to twist and writhe, seeking, reaching, grasping. The doors of both the bunk and meal houses burst open as the occupants fled the smoke and flames, only to find themselves caught in the twining grasses outside. Men in back pressed forward, toppling those whose feet were first so entangled, and many were trampled. But even the stampede of bodies slowed to a halt as the second rank found themselves snared in turn. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The battle had begun with panic and confusion, and the Centaurs charged in with spears leveled.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] A lone scout, looking bedraggled from a long night afoot, stumbled into the barnyard, screaming a warning. "They're coming! Hundreds of them! Run for your lives!"[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] And from the east rose a figure of terrifying size and power, a dark warrior as tall as a rooftop, whose blade looked ready to scythe through all before him.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] "Surrender or Die!", thundered the giant as he smashed his way through the paddock gate.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The Bretons ran in panic, where they could move at all, and the Centaurs ran them down without mercy.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] "You there!", cried one officer. "Pikemen, form the wall! Hold that line! Archers, make ready!"[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] But his orders, firm and clear as they were, went unheeded in the madness of the moment, and he quickly found his own feet rooted to the ground.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] One soldier, a champion by his bearing, screamed his defiance, and strove to tear his feet free of their restraints, eager to close with the foe.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] He needn't have bothered. Cassius long strides were carrying him towards the champion. His immense blade twisted as he swung, so he laid the flat of his blade across the man instead of cleaving him in twain.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The heavy blow caught the man under the breastplate and lifted him off his feet, tearing away great lumps of sod in the process. He landed heavily a man's height away, where he lay gasping, struggling for breath.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] "There's a hundred more!", screamed the scout. "They hid behind invisibility!"[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] And sure enough, the sounds of huge pounding feet could be heard charging in from the western edge of the camp.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] Those who had not already done so were now casting their weapons away, raising their hands in surrender or prostrating themselves before the incoming force.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] With a snarl of frustration, the commander threw down his own blade, where the tangling grasses quickly covered it in a living scabbard.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] And it was over.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The battle at the barracks had been the bloodier one, and Marcus found himself pressed to service aiding the wounded of both camps. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The "scout" grinned and his features melted to reveal Nedel's smiling face.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The commander's face contorted with rage as he realized the true nature of the assault. But it was too late. As the grasses released the captives, they found themselves facing a line of angry Centaurs, while Sylus and Imagina collected their discarded arms.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] The Centaur colts were released, and quickly raced for freedom.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] *** "They'll be back, you know.", Marcus confided to Lowspear. "They won't give up." "Let them come. We won't be here.", Stonehoof called in answer. "Your guides have invited us to talks with their king beyond the wall. If those talks go well, we'll be able to make homes for ourselves in his lands. We left the camp with orders to make ready, and we'll be gone within the hour."[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] "I'm surprised by one thing.", Nedel posed, half in question. "I can see why you took none of the humans as prisoner, but you didn't even mark them. Many would have laid a brand on them, or taken a finger. You even healed their wounded. Why?"[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] Stonehoof regarded the Human with a mixture of sadness and surprise. "A very human question. What good would it serve to maim or kill those who have already yielded the field? Taking vengeance would only inspire more vengeance, and it would never end. "[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] They finished their trek in silence as the companions considered this answer.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana][FONT="]*** A cold wind blew in from the sea, carrying its salty scent for miles. The low shores had given way to bluffs and finally high sea cliffs as the Centaur clan moved north. They followed the roads at first, so their tracks would be lost among the other traffic, but even so they had to dodge patrols regularly. They didn't ask if the patrols were from the hunters or were just normal traffic, for they really couldn't afford to have anyone carrying tales of their travels. The nights were bitter cold, even with the tents for shelter, and the sunrise never truly came, just the ashen gray of winter skies, and the sunless curse. After three days riding the coast road they turned inland, following the river road towards a place called Hamstead, if the mile markers were to be believed. Here the woods grew thicker, giving them shelter from both the winter wind and from prying eyes. First and Windemere were saddened by the conditions here, for without the sun the woods were slowly dying. Yet they pressed on. They turned north once more before crossing a shire called Nottingham, keeping their path clear of human settlement. Slowly the way climbed, and the ground grew rockier. Ahead they could see the mountainous heights of their new home, bleak and forbidding in the gray of winter. The clan hesitated when they reached the wall. "If we cross this, we take a side in the Human wars.", Stonehoof warned. "If this King in Dunphries will not have us, we will have nothing at all." "The Breton aren't our friends now", Lowspear countered, "so what matter if they think the worse of us for this? We can't betray a trust that was never given." First thought long and hard on this before coming to a decision. "Let each choose for themselves. Those who aren't sure, let them stay south of the Wall. There are woods here we can hunt, and streams we can fish. That way there will be a welcome for the rest, should we be turned away. And if we find welcome in the north, then we'll send for our friends here, that they may join us." The decision stirred the clan into low turmoil, for while they recognized the wisdom of the First, they didn't want to split their community. Both groups would be the weaker for it. Then Windemere clenched his jaw, hugged his mentor, and declared, "We who stay south will gather by the milestone, yonder. Share out the supplies fairly, for the winter is still with us, and spring may come late. And I'll accept no half decisions among us. A family either stays here, or the family ventures north." He clearly didn't want to stay behind, but he knew that if there wasn't a healer and leader here, then none would stay. In the end, about half the folk decided to stay and await word in the spring. So a few dozen Centaurs crossed the Wall with their guides, hoping for a future in mountainous Pictland. *** This place could be beautiful.", Stonehoof remarked as the went. "From afar the mountains look forbidding, but there are meadows and forests, places where a family could grow." "Aye.", agreed Fergus. "The thistle grows thick here, and in the spring all these hills will be purple and green with their blossoms. E'en now, the land sleeps 'neath her blanket of white, resting for her awakening to come." They passed flocks of sheep, feeding on the grasses their tenders laid out for them, harvested last Autumn for this purpose, and riders could be seen in the distance, yet neither Fergus nor Padraig shied away from them. "Those are our people.", the guide explained. "It means that we're close." They lead the companions and the Centaur clan through the next low pass and into a coastal valley, culminating in a moderate sized bay facing the sunset. The farmlands of the area may have lay fallow or been in full cultivation for all anyone could tell, for the blanket of winter hid all from view. A town seemed to wrap around the shoreline, as a mans hands would wrap a warm drink on a cold night, and near the head of the bay rose a ridge of stone, with castle set firmly on top. The town buzzed with curiosity as the folk spied the odd travelers, beginning the moment they passed the south gate. The Centaur clan kept their weapons sheathed and their bows unstrung, to allay suspicions, but there was no doubt that rumor would easily outpace the truth as the news spread. The castle rose stark and bleak as they approached, streaks of weathered mortar running down the dark stone like blood from an open wound, and a pair of heads were prominently displayed on pikes outside the gate. "Ah, a welcome sight indeed, after such a journey.", Penn quipped. "No doubt hot baths and great feasts await within." "Best curb that glib tongue, master Bard, lest the King remove it.", Angus advised. "He has little use for dandies." [/FONT][/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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