Black Mamba [Phrost, David]

[Emma]

Nothing in the desert lasted, but nothing died forever.

From the protective scarf wrapped around my face, I watched the violence of the Hadarac with great pleasure. Sudden, vehement blasts of wind tore apart entire dunes, revealing the shattered remnants of ancient civilizations before another blast covered them again. The wind’s howling filled my ears and threatened to knock me down while the sun, due to it being early morning, had yet to heat the freezing landscape. Above all, a heavy red mist that shrouded the entire desert lingered in the air. The bloody vapours would be gone by the time the sun reached its peak, and so I took my time in admiring it.

However, we were, unfortunately, on the clock. We’d made the trip from The Tears all the way to the Hadarac for some very simple, routine weapons testing. Disguising ourselves as a pilgrimage to the heart of the desert, six Paladins flanking two Oracles, we’d left civilization several days ago before finally reaching the edge of the Hadarac. Four of my fellow Paladins were doing sweeps of the surrounding area, hunting for Urgals- or, worse, meddlesome Riders- that might interfere with business of the Hand. Masema and I were guarding the two anxious blood mages as they prepared.

Jukka and Liselle had only very recently become blood mages of the Hand, and neither seemed to accept its true purpose. Their hands shook and their knees trembled as they uncovered the weapons under the shelter of one of the tallest dunes, their wrappings half-falling off their faces. I took another minute to admire the beauty of the desert before the airborne grains of sand began to truly irritate me, and I joined them where they kneeled. I had two curved blades, the ones favoured by inhabitants of the eastern deserts, fittingly, to use on anyone that interrupted us. I had one unsheathed and held at the ready.

We needed to do the testing out here, where no one would see us. Isenstar Lake and the Plains were much too close to Du Weldenvarden, and I’d heard rumours of something like clean-up attempts made by the Riders in those areas. Idiots. Here, no one would notice a few dunes lighting up except for an Urgal or two, and their minds were about as evolved as a pig’s. We did, however, have to wait for the winds to die down, which would hopefully occur before the red mist disappeared. In the meantime, the blood mages would practice some destruction spells until the other Paladins came back.

“Cy… Cyprus!” came Liselle’s tiny voice. I gave her a heated glare as she raised a gloved hand to point at something above and behind me. “What is that?”
I looked. A shadowy figure, hazy from the mist, peeked out at us from above one of the dunes. I snarled as Jukka got up for a better view, revealing our position.
“Are you nuts?” I roared, flinging him down beside Liselle. “Get the fuck back to work before I rip your arms off!”

As the two blood mages cowered beneath my raised sword, the figure disappeared. With an animalistic snarl, I removed my second curved blade and tightened the wrappings on my face so that only my blue-green eyes showed. Then, gripping the handles, I headed out into the shrieking wind and towards the dune. Behind me, I heard Masema snarling at the blood mages, ordering them to further prep the weapons, Soon, though, his voice was muted by the violent blasts. I bowed my head and gritted my teeth, my thickly soled boots having difficulty finding purchase in the ever-shifting sands.

The hazy figure appeared again, but when it saw my approach, it disappeared very quickly. The word scout rang in my head, and I picked up the pace. It still took a full minute for me to reach the summit of the dune, at which point I dropped on my belly and peered down. After this point, the Hadarac truly took over the landscape, and all I could see was an ocean of sand. However, my eyes followed the running figure to a shattered tower to my very far right. I rose to my feet and slid my way down, snarling. I would be damned if this test was ruined by a pack of barbarian ox-men.

Words;; 725
Muse;; REALLY sleepy. D=
Thoughts;; Meh! REALLY not my best. >.<

[phrostphyre]

The Savage Faithful fortified encampment was on the edge of the Hadarac, at the head of a river going back west. It was square, with dirt walls fifteen feet high with pikes and sharpened stakes at the top. There were two gates, one on the east side and on the west side. Archers patrolled the scaffolding inside the walls at twelve feet regularly, and scouts were sent out every other day to search for signs of Urgal encroachment upon the Eastern most borders of the Broddring Kingdom. I admired the distant crags and mountains of the Beors. Those were real Highlands, right there. I was patrolling the south side of the walls surrounding our encampment, my Alban kilt reflecting my duties as Piper, longbow man, skirmisher, and Third Officer. The Piper’s color was orange, while longbow man was brown, skirmisher green, and Third Officer was yellow, on the black background of clan MacTìre. I turned back towards the sand dunes and continued my patrol. There was absolutely nothing to see save for nothing. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Boredom was a constant threat out here, and the only way the officers saw a way to keep us fighting fit was to practice with padded blades, arrows with no heads, and full armor, with rocks stuffed into our packs. We had grown harsh and lean in this desert were water was sucked out of you like marrow from a bone by a wolf. I had arrived here at two hundred forty pounds, and I was down to two hundred. We ran assaults, defenses, formation attacks, shield walls, anything and everything. Once, they got the bright idea to have only three men defend the camp against the rest of us; somehow, the men defending won. Don’t ask me how.

Four hours later, and the sun was nearing its peak. The sunrise had been excruciatingly beautiful, nearly dropping me on sight, the worshipper of all things beautiful. However, I had continued on with the routine, and now I was getting ready to go off patrol and back to digging another latrine trench. It was inevitable, the fact that I would sass of to a superior officer and make an ass out of myself. Once I realized how deep a hole I was in, I decided digging it a little deeper couldn’t hurt. He had wanted to know why I could sound like all normal[/] Alagaësians when I was excited, angry, or in pain. I had replied with why couldn’t he look a little less like an Urgal sow and more like a human, and from then on, it had eventually come to blows. I won, and he promptly assigned me to doing latrine detail for the next year, and then I had to give up my Second Officer’s rank. I had managed to keep Third Officer because I was a piper, and trained pipers are hard to come by.

I was broken from my reverie by shouting; our scout was coming in, pursued by a distant dot in the distance. I looked around me; no one else had seen him. I took a rope next to me and tied it to a stake, then made my way down it, my targe upon my back. I began pounding across the ground, my feet slapping against hard ground, then looser dirt and grit, and finally sand as I sped my way to maximum longbow distance, about three hundred paces. I had a quiver of thirty arrows, my sword, dirk, sgian dubh, longbow, and targe. I continued pounding my way across the sand, breath coming harder and harder as I did my best to reach one of my men. When I saw him fall, I grew enraged. Who knew what he was going to tell us? I needed that information, my officers needed that information, and more importantly, the King himself needed that information. That was most vital of all, the information for the King.

I began running faster, especially when I began hearing cries of pain and agony. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run like this much longer, but I was driving myself as hard as I could. The months spent in the Spine carrying boulders and here with the full armor and pack of rocks helped; I didn’t tire as easily. Soon I was within medium bow-shot; about two-hundred paces. I stopped and began my preparations for firing. I strung my bow in a fluid motion, then brought it up. An arrow slid from the quiver beside my sword with ease, and it was knocked in the same motion. I drew back, brought it up by about twenty degrees, and fired. I hadn’t been aiming for the person torturing my scout, I had been aiming for him. His cries stopped abruptly when the arrow hit him, and I was knocking another as fast as I could. This one missed , because as soon as it hit the top of its arc, a gust of wind knocked it off target. I swore and put the bow while slowly moving forward, pulling my sword as I did so. The targe was on my left arm, and a leather bracer upon my right, while the sword was in the right hand. I began moving forward at a Highland march, eighty footsteps per minute.
” Look well upon what ye have wrought, ye pox-ridden scum! I will avenge the death of my man, as I avenge the King for the dishonor ye hae brought tae him!”[/B]


Words;; 920

[david]

"We can't just attack the Hand out right. We don't have proof. First off, yes they are a bit secretive. Secondly, they do have a lot of blood mages from what i can tell and thirdly...I JUST DONT CARE ABOUT THEM RIGHT NOW!!!!" David yelled as he looked to his advisor from his seat inside the main hall of the castle.

Sighing very lightly David rubbed his temples very lightly and then stared at his army commander. "Do you think we should go investigate this "Hand"? I mean honestly they do intrigue me but it so far away i dont know." The commander shook his head lightly.

"Count David we have more than enough men and provisions to spare the city and an excursion out to the Hadarac desert. We can make it if you deem to choose to go." The wisened commander spoke to the young Count.

David turned his head toward his advisor and smiled, "Seems you win today. Go get me packed and yourself ready. I have a feeling this is going to be a long adventure." He then watched as his advisor schurried away to pack them swiftly.

...five weeks later....

So after many days of pure marching with only eight men David and his advisor had made their way to the haradrac desert. It was cool but not cold when they surfaced on a dune with their horses. All ten of them lined up to view the area. It wasn't a few moments later when David and his advisor has spotted two running people. Then one went down swiftly.

Speaking up his advisor spoke,"ohhh its a femallllle. mmm i wonder what she's like in be----." The was and hmpf from the advisor as he fell to the sand knocked down by the count himself.

"I wold appreciate it if you dont speak of females that way around me for right now. Got it?" David warned him. "Even though I know you have MANY female slaves we are not here to enslave people but to watch and determine if the Hand is worth attacking or creating an alliance with you all know that our current King has no heir and is quite old already." David sneered lightly.

This was where many people were shocked. People thought of Count David as a nice and sweet man, which he partly was but he also had a huge thirst for power which was quite unmistakeable when you really got to know him. David finally stared at the female and then to the dead body saying to himself, must have been a scout to be running like that. Hmm now where is....

So that man killed his own. That's quite interesting. Now how many men are there with him? Zero, it was still good to be cautious though.. David turned to his men and then motioned toward the woman. "I want a protective circle around her and I wanted it yesterday. That charging man does not get a chance to get near her understand? No matter what I dont want to see her hurt now get to it."

Getting off his horse as his advisor and the other eight of his men rushed infront of the woman on their horses drawing swords and lances, David walked to the side of his horse pulled out his longbow from its protected sheath and then pulled one arrow out of the quiver. He then licked his fingers lightly taking the archers stance and aimed up. He drew back, released and watched as the arrow hit the ground possibly five feet infront of the group of warriors.

"This is my only warning sir. Turn back from here and leave the woman be. I have no quarrel with you but if you dare attack this woman I will." David spoke loud and clear."

[Emma]

Wrapped in black cloth and swords out, I ran at a tilt as I strove to catch up to the miserable bastard that had dared spy on me. I also noted with much pleasure that I was gaining on him. Scouts were rarely trained to manoeuvre in the desert, and this one was beginning to tire. He was still a long way from the tower when he fell to his knees, and I was close enough to hear him gasping for breath and coughing as he inhaled the desert sands. My blue-green eyes widened as I was suddenly filled with inhuman excitement. I felt the thrill of the chase overwhelming me. I was the hunter and he the hunted.

Within moments, I was on top of him. Though I had enough control over myself to avoid converting into my wolf form, somewhere deep inside me completely closed off. I fell onto him with an animalistic snarl, plunging one blade into his arm to prevent him from escaping. His scream of pain and terror only provoked me further as I leapt onto him, my eyes glowering as I began to slice at his torso with my other sword. The cuts were neither deep nor life-threatening, but they caused maximum pain, exactly as Malandra had shown me on several occasions. As I attacked him, I shouted in rage and excitement.

“Pretty little human boy likes to play in the sand with the Hand. Pretty little human boy wants to slither back into his hole, like a mole. Pretty, pretty, pretty little shitty! Gorgeous, I will kill the fuck outta-”

An arrow suddenly stuck out of his forehead, and he stopped moving and screaming. I turned rapidly to glare in the direction that the projectile had come from. Snarling, I ripped the arrow from the body and inspected it. Standard Broddring military issue. Angrenost had sent his little soldier boys to ruin my mission for Malandra. Tearing my swords from the body and crossing them in front of me, I made my way towards the tower. Dealing with humans, Malandra had always warned me, was much worse than animals and Urgals. Urgals were loyal and stupid. Humans were smart and deceitful.

However, before I could take two steps, I felt four rhythmic taps at the edge of my mental barriers. Recognizing it, I immediately let Masema in.
‘Has the weapon been set up yet?’
‘Almost. Did you catch the little bastard?’
‘He’s dead. There’s some kinda military base out here.’ I felt him snarl in my head.
‘That’s not the least of your problems. Kianna says she saw some human fop and his men following you.’
‘WHAT?’ I screamed.
‘They’ve circled you. You’re trapped between them and the military. Give yourself in, D’Ellsadro. You owe us that much.’
‘I don’t owe you sh-’
‘Don’t backtalk me, slut! Malandra would ask you the exact same damn thing. Surrender. We’ll come get you once the weapon is ready.’

He terminated the link, leaving me hissing and seething. I glanced behind me and indeed saw a line of soldiers closing in on me. In front of the tower, a small group of men had appeared. Realizing I had no choice, my shoulders sagged and my eyes narrowed. I slowly made my way towards the ruined tower, gripping the hilts of my swords so hard I was sure I would break them. I ignored the howling wind and the whirling sand as I heard the rhythmic clank of armour quickly coming at me. Glancing up, I watched a line of the fop’s soldiers position themselves between me and the tower, weapons at the ready.

The youth standing in front of the tower and bellowing insults seemed to be this regiment’s leader. Dark of colouring and wild in appearance, his brow was knitted with fury. His glare was fixated on the fop as he too made his way before me, a strung bow in his hands and an arrow aimed straight at the youth. This actually surprised me. This little group actually sought to protect me? There was no way Malandra could have sent these fools. They were obviously here of their own free will. The fop’s words only made me laugh- a quiet, demented giggle that quickly turned into a roaring cackle.

“Would you look at that?” I sneered as I strode through the line of soldiers. “Dressed in rags and I still have admirers. I won’t ask for common sense or logic from men.” I stood before the youth, inhaling deeply. As his scent lingered in my nostrils, I realized that he, too, was a werewolf. I immediately growled threateningly, raising both swords. I flung them down at his feet, the metal clanging softly. “Look at you, frightened like a little boy. Well, don’t worry…” I reached up and removed my head wrapping, revealing my face and allowing my long chocolate hair to fall to my mid-back. “Being clearly outnumbered by you beautiful gents, I surrender.”

Words;; 830
Muse;; Still weird, but getting better.
Thoughts;; Gyehh... it's NOT good.

[phrostphyre]

I bellowed in Gaelic as nine men surrounded the person. I was using every profanity I knew, in any language, to vent my rage. After about thirty seconds, I began feeling better. More calmly, but still angry, I sheathed my sword and moved forward cautiously. When I was in speaking distance, not yelling distance, I hailed them, not cursed.

”I am Third Officer MacTìre, of the Savage Faithful! You, madame, are under arrest for torture of a member of the military. Come quietly and I won’t be forced tae hurt ye. You,”[/color] Here I addressed myself to the fool with the retinue, "Should put your weapons up before I want to hurt ye.”[/color]