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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Topic Started: Jan 30 2009, 02:16 AM (245 Views) | |
| Freya LaShale | Jan 30 2009, 02:16 AM Post #1 |
Love Thief
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A sultry smile permeated the thicket of Borodora, moonlight glinting off of a pair of greedy green eyes, locked onto the back of a horse-drawn carriage. Around it lay four bodies, wrapped snug on the ground in fur and woven cotton, three hours into sleep. Two bodies stood erect, eyes open, ever vigilant. One worked as a blunt obstacle between the opening of the coach and any unwelcome thugs attempting to gain entrance. Another sat in the seat of the driver, keeping more of an eagle eye on their surroundings. They were men of business with no lenience for on-duty fun and games. Not a word had been spoken between them since their graveyard guard shift had begun. Even then, they had only opened their mouths to specify who got to stand, and who got to sit. Altogether, they kept a vision of sight of three-hundred and sixy degrees. To make things even more difficult, they had chosen to rest in a clearing, which meant there was little room for hiding or sneaking. Clever. What, exactly, did this all mean? It meant that what they were carrying was of enough value to go through much extra effort, not to mention by the clothes they wore and the crest their shirts bared, they were on official business of the kingdom. Oh yes, there must be a treasure within. "I'm sick o' waintin," an irritating whine took the green eyes away from the serene scene. Behind her, what you might call no more than a moron was on his rear, legs propped up, digging designs into the dirt with a dull dagger just in front of his lap. He had finally looked up at her when he heard her turn. "When ah we gonna do it? We din' come alla way out here ta spectate." "We sure didn't!" she squatted in front of him, snatching the hovering dagger away. "But we have to be patient this time, Darling. Any impulsiveness may kill us. We would be left to rot, and no one would know otherwise. Do you really want to die like that?" The seductress tilted her head at him and smiled. He gave her a look like a child would its parent, with doe eyes full of embarrassment. "No... I don't want to die like that..." he admitted bashfully. She gave his mop top of hair a quick ruffle. "At least you're man enough to admit there is a chance of defeat here. I've worked with men who considered themselves invincible. It turns out, they were very much mortal." Her compliment made him smile, as all this time, all he was doing was trying to make her smile, make her like him. He was a bit closer to obtaining his dream woman, the one he had met only last night. Freya once again turned her attention to the clearing, deciding finally about how to go on doing this particular job. Ideally, she would like to leave the four on the ground sleeping. It would have to be fast and quiet. At the very least, if they were to wake, they would be disoriented and easy enough to disable. "Michael..." she cooed down to her accomplice, flashing him a tempting glance. "...Y-Yes?" "It's time." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I cannot convince you, My Lord, of how utterly low and ashamed we are after the happenings of the night before last. Our night watchmen, when we awoke, were laying unconscious. The offerings were gone, the door torn open. I have made it clear to no others what has happened, and nor have my men. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Freya!" his heart pounded, watching them run towards her to the point where time seemed to slow and his throat closed up. "...What are you doing...?" The last came as a whisper for fear they might take him too. She just stood there, not a hand on her blade, waiting for them to come and take her. Her head turned, eyes to the ground, long lashes calmly blinking as her full red hair played in the forbidding breeze behind her. When the orbs opened, they watched Michael, looking alarmingly apologetic with a crooked smile. It was as if her eyes swallowed him up, wrapping him in a warm, yet uncomfortably wet, blanket, all the air around him whispering, 'I'm sorry, Darling.' ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fortunately, we were able to track the bandits to what appeared to be their hide-away. They were captured and their lair searched, but we were unable to find what was lost. There are two. The male refuses to speak to any of us regardless of what we do, but the female took little persuasion. She has agreed to speak with you and only you of the whereabouts of the lost items. My men and I agree that she is not a common bandit. On the contrary, she has spent the last night in our company and we have found her to be quite charming and personable. She has revealed her name to be Freya LaShale, part of a family you may know, Sire. We request that you speak with her and keep her safe, as we are while she is traveling with us. It would be preferable - if there is the possibility - to not punish her as long as she returns what she has taken. Marcus Lacefield --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The letter had been sent ahead of the approaching caravan. It wasn't long before they reached their destination. Michael had been taken to a separate location while Freya had been escorted to accommodations not quite as unfavorable as a cell, but instead resided in the barracks with the men who had taken her. As night came upon Angkar once again, she found herself on top of a pallet, hugging her knees as she curiously listened to a soldier by the name of Todd. He had been venting, laying upon the thief the woes of marriage, clearly specifying that she must never marry, something that she knew already. Regardless, she humored him simply for the sake of company. Edited by Freya LaShale, Jan 30 2009, 02:21 AM.
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| Razarod | Feb 2 2009, 08:39 PM Post #2 |
King of Angkar
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The king ponders over the first of the two letters, pondering just who, or what, it was that overtook so many trained soldiers and leave virtually undetected, let alone with several dozen crates of rune cannon shells in tow? His eyes close, blocking out the study around him, and after a few seconds, reopen, the green orbs almost giving off a light of their own, the confused look replaced with a glare of anger. These are very dangerous weapons, and they can't be allowed in the hands of criminals. When one really thinks about it, it's actually almost scary to allow anyone to have them at all, but that's not the matter at hand. _________________________________________________________________________ Your objective henceforth is to pursue the bandits and capture them, as well as the items in question, and deliver both to me. Should your best efforts yield only one of the above, you are to bring what you find to me. We can find the whereabouts of the shipment from one of the bandits. __________________________________________________________________________ Razarod reads over a second letter from his captain. It would appear that only the bandits were able to be located, and that the shells were nowhere to be found. They obviously never used them though, a weapon such as that being used anywhere near civilization is his kingdom certainly would have reached his ears. This leaves two possibilities: Either the thieves have stored them somewhere, which is the better of the two, or worse: they may have already sold them. If they have sold them, they will be nearly impossible to find before they are used. Reading on, the bandits seem to behave quite oddly indeed. Offered little to no resistance, despite having overtaken the guards without effort before. The female is especially odd, saying she'll willingly give up her quarry, but only to Razarod himself. More disturbing still is the way she's affected the soliders: none of them seem willing to punish her, despite the illegality and dangerous nature of her actions. The king rises to his feet and makes his way through the castle first and down to the dungeons. This... Freya... appears to be a wily one, and is not to be easily trusted. It would be best to interrogate the weakest link first. Razarod stands now at Michael's cell door. The wizard by the great steel door holds out a hand and Michael is temporarily bound to the wall while Razarod opens the door and enters the cell, shutting the door behind him. The invisible grip on Michael is weakened and he is dropped to the floor as Razarod takes a seat on the cot across from him. "So... I assume you know full well who I am. Time to tell me who you are." |
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| Freya LaShale | Feb 2 2009, 08:58 PM Post #3 |
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Love Thief
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He was cold... and hungry. It didn't take a scientist to know he would be cranky, but caged in a cell around skilled guards much more powerful than he could ever dream of being ...there wasn't much he could do about it. He sat for hours - he'd lost track of how many - with only a few things on his mind, among them being a fat, delicious slab of roasted pork. That would have been the first thing he was going to buy, but now he'll get bread and water all because of her. She knew very well they had been coming. Maybe she'd planned it from the start... His clothes had become uncomfortable and itchy. He had discarded his shirt and was using it to lay his head on. Some time later, he heard the door creak open and footsteps approaching his cage. He went from laying comfortably to crushed against the wall in seconds, groaning at the sudden change and the pain that came with it. He didn't actually comprehend who had entered until he was back on the ground, rubbing the back of his head that had hit the stone behind him. Michael was looking rather roughed up. His left eye was swollen and could hardly be kept open. A great assortment of other bruises riddled his unclothed top half and specks of dried and smudged blood here and there. Regardless of the figure of great importance in front of him, he could feel no worse than he already felt, and it showed, as he wore no expression on his face, just numb. Then it was inquired to him as to who he was. It didn't take long for him to respond. "Ahm a damn tool," Michael sighed. It was the truth, and now he would face the consequences of being as such. You could hardly blame him, but since he had landed here in the pit of despair, he had grown to accept it. His dream woman was still just that - a dream. |
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| Razarod | Feb 2 2009, 10:34 PM Post #4 |
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King of Angkar
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The king's inquiry is met with almost no response. He wasn't expecting cooperation right off the bat, but... he wasn't quite expecting this either. "Well, I knew that. Hell, it's quite obvious that she's the one running the show. But... I'm here with you right now. Because, well, I don't trust her. You shouldn't have either, from the looks of things. After all, it is largely her fault you're in this mess now..." He stands up and paces back and forth in front of Michael before looking down at him. "You know what they say... 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' So... why don't we be friends? You tell me where the shells are, you earn your freedom in a couple years... and she spends a lot more time in here than you do. Sound like a good deal to you?" The king resumes sitting in front on Michael, leans forward and cracks his knuckles. "Of course... if you'd still rather be her friend that mine... Then that means we're enemies. And things don't go too well for people who are my enemies..." He takes another pause, simply staring at Michael the entire time. "So... what's it going to be? Are you going to help her... or help yourself?" |
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| Freya LaShale | Feb 2 2009, 11:05 PM Post #5 |
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Love Thief
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He thought about it for a moment, a frown appearing on his broken features. It took a good, long moment of silence before he opened his mouth and said, "No offense, King, Sir, but somebuddy needs ta help you witcher interrogational skills. You talk to da interrogatee like they three years old and they ain't gonna say shit." An arm raised. He wiped his nose on the back of his arm and sniffled, shifting his visual attention to the floor upon which he sat. "She ain't... mah enemy. Freya's... diff'rnt. She had her reasons for whut she did. Ah may not know 'em, but ah know she has 'em, and it's gatta be a good reason... but she ain't my friend either now. Either way," he glanced up, helplessly shrugging at the lord with empty hands, "ah couldn't tell ya whatchoo wanna know. Ah never even saw what was in those crates, let alone where she put em." A dopey smile replaced his frown. Unfortunately, he didn't think about the consequences of that either. The smile just happened to slip out because he thought his situation was funny in an insane way, the way he knew he wouldn't get out of it, so there's nothing left to do but laugh. Little did he know that this small little gesture could actually be taken as mockery and even make the situation worse, regardless of how impossible he thought that may be. |
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| Razarod | Feb 16 2009, 10:50 PM Post #6 |
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King of Angkar
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Like a three year old? Either this man is attempting to mock the king, or he's just an idiot. Although mocking the king could also fall under idiocy. He quickly determines the cause to be idiocy, when this fool actually says that Freya didn't take advantage of him. She got him to help her with the dirty work, and now she's off in the barracks while he's here in the cell, and possibly going to escape punishment. And she didn't use him? Has this man lost his mind? Or perhaps it's not complete idiocy after all... A goofy smile spreads over the man's face. The grin on mockery. Razarod is immediately overcome with rage, like he hasn't been since he took this name five years ago. He grabs Michael by one shoulder and with one smooth, yet, quite painful for Michael, motion, lifts him off the floor and slams him into the wall, holding the man up with just one arm. "So you think you can toy with me? Big mistake..." Michael lets out a grunt of pain as the king's hand meets his face. "Now... where is it?" His words, however, are met with no response. In frustration, Razarod punches Michael yet another time. Still nothing. It is then that he realizes how powerful the influence of this Freya must be: To have swayed her captors so easily to recommend that she not be punished, despite her obviously dangerous actions... And now to have broken Michael's psyche so badly as to keep him silent, despite how easily common sense should have him talking.... There's going to be no choice but to go meet her himself. Razarod lets Michael slide to the ground and walks out of the cell, not saying another word. The door to the barracks creaks open, and the king steps in. His massive figure makes its way across the room before sitting down across from Freya and waving for Todd and the other soldiers to leave them alone. His eyes meet hers, revealing themselves to be of a green hue so powerful that they almost appear to be light sources unto themselves. |
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| Freya LaShale | Feb 17 2009, 02:27 PM Post #7 |
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Love Thief
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The the door creaked open, the King would be able to hear a single voice. "Could you ever imagine living without her? Think about it. Think about all of those warm, gooey memories and how long she's been by your side, loving you. She'd die for you. You can't just buy that. You can't pick it up off the street. When two people are together for long enough, of course there's going to be some arguments. You just need to remember how much you love her, and with that, remind her of how much she loves you--" Freya glanced up at the entering power. Todd did too, a look of shock and stress on his features, as if he had been pouring his heart out to the bandit he gave his bed to. Like a loyal soldier, he stood and took his leave, not without a thankful nod to Freya for her ears and her advice. "Ah! Your Highness!" she stood out of respect and bowed her head gracefully. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've been attempting to do so for quite some time." She kept her head and her eyes lowered. Making eye contact with such a supreme figure was frowned upon in the aristocracy from which she blossomed. "I am at your disposal, and prepared to take you to the loot when you so please." In her presence, it was almost a no-brainer why she seemed to hold such sway over men. She possessed a rapturous and striking natural beauty. Edited by Freya LaShale, Feb 17 2009, 02:29 PM.
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| Razarod | Feb 19 2009, 10:17 AM Post #8 |
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King of Angkar
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Finally meeting her and getting to see her in person, it is obvious, at least partially, how she is able to have such control over so many men: She is certainly quite beautiful. However, the king is not entirely satisfied with this explanation. Many equally beautiful women roam the world, yet many of them cannot sway people to do their bidding as easily as Freya appears to do. No, she has mastered manipulation and turned it into an art form, and her words must be treated with skepticism, and Razarod must be prepared for anything. "It's a pleasure to meet you too... I've heard quite a bit about you over the last several days, as I'm sure you can imagine... And stop doing that. You can look at me when you speak to me." Try as he may to be prepared for anything, the thing happens which he was least prepared for: She has not offered any resistance whatsoever, in fact, she simply offered to escort him immediately to the stolen items. Surely, her motive for stealing them was not to simply return them upon meeting Razarod... "How very... cooperative... of you... Which brings up two questions. Why steal them in the first place if you were just going to do this? And if I come with you... what else will I find there?" |
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| Freya LaShale | Feb 20 2009, 02:25 PM Post #9 |
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Love Thief
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The vixen replaced herself on the edge of the bed, idly fingering the fabric which belonged to the joke of a blanket. Her eyes raised, meeting his with a less extraordinary green gaze than the present company. Dull as they were, they held much weather damage beneath the flecks of forest and fresh grass. She did not possess the sight of ignorance, nor innocence. At last, she found herself in front of the celebrity she had dreamed of meeting. It was a fantasy so close to being realized, she fought her body's urge to just reach out and braid his hair, to touch his royal locks. A distant smile spread across her face. Though her eyes were on him, she was somewhere lost in her own head as usual. "Three points of interesting information, My Leige," she held her pinky, ring, and index finger up briefly. "First, I know my word is no good, but it will not hurt to tell you that I never speak lies unless it is imperative to lie for a loved one. As of current, I have none, so please treat me with less skeptisism and I will make this as easy for you as possible so that you may return to your kingly duties. I stole the cargo for two reasons. The first being, I have dreamed of meeting you. I knew no other way to possess your full attention unless I'd wronged you. My most sincere apologies for that, but it did work. And the other reason would be my state of mind. I'm sure you couldn't care less for my personal issues, but you asked. I'm numb inside, M'lord. I cannot feel anything unless I place myself in a situation involving high amounts of adrenaline, which leads me to do some fairly idiotic things sometimes. Impulsive. Disregard for social code..." Freya placed her hands on her knees and gradually allowed them to slither up her thighs as she straightened out her posture. "Uhm... as for what else you'll find there. I set traps I can disarm to keep curious people away. Other than that, you'll find a tree, some broken wood, and freshly dug soil." A pause. She glanced away for a split second, only to return her attention to the being before her, staring at her so accusingly. "I am a native of Angkar. I was raised in the aristocracy of the time before your reign. I will not question your sentance, but from a personal perspective, please tell me if you're capable of forgiving me for my bout of fanatisism. If I have displeased my King to the point of no forgiveness, I would desperately wish to know." |
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| Razarod | Apr 21 2009, 04:21 PM Post #10 |
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King of Angkar
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The king's blazing green eyes catch the strange smile on her face. Is it just him, or does she suddenly seem a bit... spacey? Either way, he listens silently as she answers his questions. "You do understand that your actions make it hard for me to treat you with less skepticism... I can't ignore the fact that you stole weapons..." Then he pauses to allow her to explain why she stole them in the first place. And that is easily the most shocking thing he's heard today. She specially stole the shipment, not for personal use or to sell, but.... to get his attention? She seems more insane the longer she speaks. Then he listens in apprehensive silence as she tells him about how she can't feel anything unless she's doing something crazy... She's definitely insane. But she's also the only lead he has. Extremely suspicious, yes, but a willing confessant nonetheless. He can't help but breifly watch her hands work their way up her legs before averting his gaze back to her face quickly. "... I suppose we could make the trip. We can not go alone, of course, understand this. Be ready to leave tomorrow." Razarod says nothing about forgiving her or not, and half-expects her to notice this, while hoping she doesn't catch it after all. Or at least doesn't mention it. He's still in shock that he actually agreed to this. As much as she claims otherwise, can she really be trusted? And why is he trusting her so easily? Is it because he truly believes her, or because he, like many others, in under her influence as well, without even knowing the power she holds over him? He quickly focuses himself again, though. She can't be allowed to hold that kind of influence over him. And she certainly can't be allowed to know that she might. |
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| Freya LaShale | Apr 22 2009, 10:23 PM Post #11 |
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Love Thief
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"...I stole weapons?!" was her first response. She couldn't hold back the laughter, considering she assumed it was gold or something equally useless. "I-I'm sorry, My Liege..." she attempted to calm her giggle fit. "I didn't even look at what I had stolen, to be quite honest." She could almost scoff at how easy it was to steal something so incredibly valuable. The King's security was definitely not up to par, but saying so would only make him like her less, and that was not what she was after. A hand from her thigh rose to run her fingernails over her bare shoulder given by the loose tea-stained 'shirt' that hid her bosom. From there, they sank into hiding beneath her red locks until she pulled all of the hair over the opposite shoulder and began to rub her neck which wasn't so much tense, but rather just needed to be loved on for a bit. "I do understand, it's for the most obvious security purposes, and I do not object, but know, Sire, that my specialty is groups..." "Very well!" the bandit stood, swaying her weight onto the other foot. "We ride out tomorrow. I am at your beck and call. Your every wish is my command." |
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| Razarod | May 9 2009, 03:49 PM Post #12 |
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King of Angkar
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Razarod is almost taken aback at her reaction to learning what she stole. Did she really not know? Did she really jump into this with that little planning, only to get his attention? The longer this conversation goes on, the more the king feels compelled to doubt this woman's sanity. He makes a mental note to speak to the captain of the guard and figure out why their security is so easily thwarted by two people, neither of which possess any remarkable powers. The lord of Ankgar shifts his attention away from her as she massages herself. He needs to keep her out of his mind, or at least keep her out of his mind in that particular manner, he's married, and he's even going to be a father... He can't let this woman do this to him. "Yes.... your specialty does appear to be groups... Groups on men in particular... But I'm sure we'll manage just fine." He stands up after her overly dramatic agreement to ride out tomorrow and walks out of the barracks, leaving her in the care of the soldiers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Next Morning ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There is a heavy knock at the barracks door. There is a horse-drawn carriage all ready and waiting, actually the same one that she robbed several nights ago. The king himself stands outside the barracks door, along with two guards, waiting on Freya to come out. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jun 2 2009, 02:17 PM Post #13 |
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Love Thief
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Watching the monarch's back as he left her alone in the unfamiliar room, the girl sank back down, defeated, on the edge of the bed, her elbows propped up on her knees to allow her head to sink into her open hands. She felt, at this time, a pang of overwhelmed failure. What exactly had she gotten herself into? True, it was refreshing when she didn't know what was going to happen, but it had been a while since she hadn't been in complete control of her surroundings. The king could not be tricked. He would always be just out of her grasp. And the worst part of it all? With her grand abilities of seduction negated, she knew she was nothing but a common thief, a rat, someone whom the king should never waste his time on. Freya did not consider herself a likeable person without her tricks. The entire mission was a failure, and Michael had been condemned for nothing. That aside, what would happen to her now? Sleep would come easy tonight, for there was nothing to look forward to tomorrow. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Miss Freya. Miss Freya, wake up," Todd had been gently nudging her for a few moments now. She had stirred a bit, but seemed to be substantially difficult to arouse. "Freya!" With a metallic hiss, a dagger was unleashed, halting just before Todd's throat. He staggered back in surprise, but as a soldier, regained his composure quickly. The girl was on the bed, three shades of pissed, her hair falling wildly in her face after a night of unpleasant dreams. When she saw the face of her would-be attacker, the dagger was re-sheathed within a compartment inside her corset. She then collapsed back down against the covers. "I'm sorry, Todd. I'm a heavy sleeper sometimes," she muttered. "It's alright. I imagine I would have done the same if I had awoken in unfamiliar surroundings." "You're a sweetheart." Freya rolled off the bed and slowly rose to stand, adjusting her clothing properly. "Well, thank you. The King will be arriving soon. I suppose this is the last I'm going to see of you." The bandit turned her head in his direction, giving him a somber smile, "Nah, I don't think so. Keep your chin up. I'll be back by to see how you and your lovely wife are faring soon." There was a knocking. She smoothed her hands over her pants and started for the door, not before giving the guard a big hug and a handshake. When the door opened, she was almost knocked back by the painful blast of sunlight. "My King," she attempted to sound as official as she could, though her voice still held a bit of agony from the sudden introduction to light. She gave her best bow and started for the carriage. "Shall we?" |
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| Razarod | Jul 4 2009, 08:17 PM Post #14 |
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King of Angkar
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Razarod stands outside the barracks, waiting, and a bit annoyed at being made to wait on someone who has been nothing but a royal pain to him since even before they met. Finally, after what seems like forever, the woman emerges and is greeted with "Good morning.... Glad you finally decided to join us..." from the king. He takes a step into the carriage and holds out a hand to help Freya in before sitting down on one side of the carriage. Once she is seated as well he shouts something up front and the carriage begins moving. There is one man driving the carriage, which is pulled by two horses, and there is a guard in the front and at the rear. The castle and the gates of Ildri can finally be seen in the distance from behind the carriage, at least a mile away now, when Razarod finally decides to speak. "So you really did ALL this... just to meet me?" The idea still absolutely stuns him, that there exists someone so infatuated by him, or at the very least by his image, to steal dangerous weapons from him, allow an innocent man to be condemned, and then offer to lead him to the very things she stole without a fight, simply because she wanted to see him? "You went through a lot of work to meet me... I must say it seems a bit..." His words trail off here, crazy being the word that comes to mind to finish that sentence. The king certainly can't wait for this ordeal to be over, to have the deadly cargo safely back in his hands, and to have this alluring thief safely away from him. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 4 2009, 10:46 PM Post #15 |
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Love Thief
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She was quiet for the most part, accepting his hand when it was offered to join him in the carriage. It wasn't too bright of an idea, though, considering she'd have to stick her head out of the door to direct them to the loot. The bandit knew and accepted that not every idea of her's was a good one. This was indeed one of those times. Trial and error was her way of life though, and with this mistake came another lesson she would remember for the future. When the King finally chose to speak, she turned her head towards him, her dark green eyes fluttering up to meet his, a kind of weathered look within them, as if her body was much younger than the than her gaze, presumably because she's seen too many things she ought not to have. "...Insane?" she finished for him, gracing him was a sweet smile. "It's not, not really. Most people don't go after what they want. They feel there are too many obstacles. How else, do you suppose, I should have gotten your attention? Stood outside your bedroom, throwing pebbles at your window?" She chuckled once at herself, turning her head to stare at the wall of the carriage. "Who wouldn't want to meet their king personally? Have a sit-down and talk, just to say you spoke with a King. You don't seem to understand what kind of an icon you are to most people." |
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| Razarod | Jul 11 2009, 05:42 PM Post #16 |
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King of Angkar
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The lord of Ankgar lets out a chuckle when the theif suggests that she could, or could not, have tried throwing rocks at his bedroom window instead. "It's a good thing you didn't try that... Kenna probably wouldn't have taken kindly to young women throwing rocks at the window at night..." He realizes that he's actually joking around with her socially, and looks at the wall of the carriage for a bit. It does little to break any feeling of awkwardness however, since they end up staring at the same spot on the wall for a moment. An icon? Well, on second thought, he knows that he really is an icon to many people. Razarod has just made it a point for years not to think of himself that way, he doesn't want to get too big headed and put people off of their leader. However, as much as he hates to admit this to himself, he does find it a bit flattering when it's pointed out. But the king forces these thoughts to the back of his mind. The ride continues a bit more before Razarod decides to try conversing again. "So, you already know so much about me, maybe even everything that one COULD know, without knowing me personally... but I know nothing about you, aside from that you stole from me and that your name is Freya. So while we're here, you might as well tell me a bit more about yourself." The carriage makes its way through the woods toward the hideout. It won't be too much longer now until they reach it, and the king, for one, is quite glad. It will be nice to have this ordeal over with and to be able to get back to the many other things he has on his mind that need attending to, his wife certainly among them. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jul 29 2009, 08:35 PM Post #17 |
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Love Thief
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At the mention of his wife, she shifted in her seat, completely turning to face him with an amused grin spreading over her soft, cupid bow lips. "Well, then I guess I'll have to try that out regardless. Maybe holding a sign saying 'King Razarod is a sexy beast' just for her." She laughed a bit. Perhaps her humor would be lost on him, but she was one of the type to make a joke just so she could laugh at it. A bit of time passed before anyone spoke again, leading her to believe that her joke might have been too bold just yet. Still, she was becoming a little more comfortable, and it seemed he was too, if only just a fraction. The next thing he said surprised her, and it showed as both brows raised high onto her forehead. He wanted to know about her? "I only know the boring things about you, actually. I don't know you, which is what I was trying to accomplish." Freya rested her elbow on the arm of her seat before resting her cheek upon a fist. "As for myself... I really don't know what to tell you. Uhm, I'm weird. I like meat, hate veggies... My favorite color is greeeen... Oh, my brother is Ulysses. I think you might know him, a knight of yours. Long black hair, no sense of humor?" Her grin changed to a coy smile. Her gaze dropped away from him and wandered about the cabin. "I'm sorry. It's kind of useless to ask me about myself. I don't really know myself all that well. All action, hardly any thinking behind just ...instinct and impulse. Not a smart way to live, true, but it's a life of freedom, and its generally happier." "What about you?" finally, her green eyes flashed back towards him. "There are tall tales floating around about you that you're some kind of hybrid of things. Ridiculous, of course, but I wonder where they got the idea." |
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| Razarod | Aug 10 2009, 06:01 PM Post #18 |
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King of Angkar
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At the lady bandit's joke regarding standing at his window and holding up a huge sign declaring him a sexy beast, the king turns away and just barely manages to stifle the laugh, with just a grin barely escaping. He does not look back at Freya until he has regained his composure. But not long after she begins speaking, he is entirely robbed of the composure which he just struggled to regain, and more. Where in the world did she hear such a thing? The only people he's talked to directly about this have been Kenna and Shadow... And Kenna's never met Freya, thank goodness for that, and as far as he knows, she doesn't know Shadow. Freya doesn't seem like one to associate with women frequently. His old friends would know something was up, with his drastically changed appearance and his new name... But he hasn't seen many of them in five years or more. And the village in which he met Raziel is on a completely different country, and Freya is from Ankgar... How could she possibly have come across this knowledge? How could ANYONE so easily come across it? "Where would you hear a rumor like that? Not that it matters too much... I guess I can't deny it. Half of me is Galarod Evermore, born in Ankgar, raised in Katimos as a warrior. I returned here and reunited the various towns and tribes into one nation. But I'm sure you already knew that last part. The other part of me is Raziel, a wizard who lived in a small village in the forests of Katimos." Razarod says nothing about his time growing up in Katimos, and nothing about how he came to become one with Raziel. He doesn't feel comfortable sharing too many of his secrets with this woman, and surely she can't already know anything about Raziel, or about his time spent out of Ankgar. If she does, there is far more to her than meets the eye. Not that he hasn't already found that out... The carriage is incredibly close to its destination now. So close, in fact, that if you look out of the front, its destination is now visible. It won't be long now... Won't be long until the dangerous and important cargo is back in Razarod's hands... Won't be long until he doesn't have to worry about Freya's infatuation with him, the infatuation that makes her quite dangerous to his kingdom... Edited by Razarod, Aug 10 2009, 06:31 PM.
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| Freya LaShale | Sep 13 2009, 09:03 PM Post #19 |
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Love Thief
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How so easily, indeed. She laughed charmingly at his decomposure, rubbing the back of her neck as if she had no idea of the consequences saying such a simple thing would have. "Once again, I... didn't know it was a secret. But you are correct. It doesn't matter much. You are still you, regardless of how you came about." Glancing out the window, she could see the mound of fresh dirt where that one fellow she was with (What was his name again?) had buried the crates. "Stop here, please! We're nearly right on top of it!" Freya called outside the carriage to the driver. The driver did as requested, but only because she said please. Taking orders from someone not his king left a bad taste in his mouth. "I've been everywhere in Soare, just about," she began explaining to him as she opened the door and took a step out, stretching her legs. Her arms raised behind her head, her back bending to straighten out its knots, moves like a lethargic jungle cat, displaying how flexible she was. "I seek stories, adventures, anything to light my fire. Met a man in a hooded robe once. He was just sitting on a rock doing nothing, he looked interesting, so I asked him to tell me a story. Don't worry, he was very vague, more like poetry than prose..." Her boots and swinging hips led her to the dirt pile. She stared down at it, making a shallow hole with the tip of her boot. "It's here, My King. Hope someone brought shovels." The bandit glanced over her shoulder. "What's it like? Being two people crammed into one?" |
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| Razarod | Oct 15 2009, 09:19 PM Post #20 |
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King of Angkar
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The king's face flushes a bit, as the temptress laughs at his discomposure. He looks out the window and spots a suspicious mound of dirt, wondering if this is where Freya and her accomplice buried the shells. Sure enough, she almost immediately calls out to the driver to stop the carriage, who, surprisingly enough, complied. Razarod looks at her and raises an eyebrow as she gets out of the carriage and walks to the mound of dirt. His face flushes a bit again she she stretches, displaying her flexibility quite blatantly, whether she means to or not. Razarod follows her to the mound of dirt, trying to avoid watching her posterior sway as she walks, failing only once. As she mentions shovels, Razarod reaches out his hand toward the carriage and a soldier places a shovel in his hand. "Just one. It's all we'll need." He jams the shovel into the pile of dirt and pushes almost the entire pile out of the way with one motion. "It doesn't really feel like I'm two people in one. I just feel like I'm me. But... more of me. A more powerful me. As for the name... that was just something I suddenly knew. I knew my name was supposed to be Razarod from then onwards." Another swing of the shovel through the dirt removes the rest of the pile, and exposes the crate, and the king reaches one arm down and plucks it out of the earth. |
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