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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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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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| Something Wicked This Way Comes; for Bael | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 20 2009, 01:38 AM (180 Views) | |
| Rohriel | Jun 22 2009, 12:06 PM Post #26 |
 
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The sound of his pen clacking against the desk had been the only sound for hours. By the time Freya rose it was almost midday; the soldiers had gone up with the sun and Bael? Sleep was a rare occasion these days. Not that he wasn't satisfied, far from it, his earlier years as a lowly private had paid off in the experience department, always scouring taverns and lonely city streets for a night of pleasure. Yet there was work to be done. Before him sat casualty reports, tactical assessments, supply charts, all gained earlier with a meet between his senior officers. And what a meeting. The men had treated him as one of their own again, no doubt their belief in Bael's humanity restored by the noises that echoed from his tent the previous night. That would only last so long. "My captain already commented on your voice." He spoke in the same low bass. Nothing much had changed with the man, his demeanor as it was before. Bael was not one to show a great deal of his emotions. "I'm sure you're hungry..." He droned, his right hand - the one without the pen - motioning to the still-hot meal on the far side of the desk. "And clothes." The motioning continued to a new chair, not nearly as large as his own, that had several articles of clothing laid out over it. Most of them were silk. "You're free to go as you wish. There's a horse for you outside, he's war-trained, but should give you no trouble. He is saddled and loaded with some supplies." Even with the gesture, the desire for her to leave was never-present within Bael's voice; but, he made good on his promises. Ever an honest man. Foolish. But honest. Bael allowed himself to revel in her presence. He did not need to look to enjoy what she offered. His other senses worked for him, feeling every inch of her, caressing her skin with an intangible touch. He could say it; don't go, yet what would that leave? A pathetic husk o a man, he would not have it. Besides, it was doubtful that she would accept. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jun 22 2009, 12:45 PM Post #27 |
Love Thief
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"Mm, I bet," she grinned widely, idly running her fingers through his hair again as she looked on at what he was doing, still a half-asleep daze. Looked military-related, some kind of documentation that she couldn't read. When he motioned to the food, her face lit up. She hadn't eaten very well in some time, so she carefully stepped over to the plate before shoving too much food in her mouth at one time, mixing everything up, resembling a chipmunk with her cheeks bulging. It was all gone in one crazy swallow. The next bites were smaller, but not by a whole lot. It's astounding she hadn't choked to death yet, if this was how she ate. Regardless, soon the contents of the plate were gone and she turned her attention to the clothes laid out for her, running her hand along the fabric, smiling a bit to herself on the inside at what a pretty penny these might fetch. She dressed casually. "You're giving me a warhorse?!" she asked as she pulled the top over her head. "Damn, you're charitable... What's his name?" Of course she was intending to keep it. It was trained not to spook, an incredibly handy trait in a large mammal one was to ride. "Oh, and where can I usually find you? Or send letters?" If it was alright with him, which she assumed it was, she also intended to keep in contact with this one. It would be thrilling to watch him go through his life and keep tabs, see what village he was maiming tonight. |
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| Rohriel | Jun 22 2009, 03:14 PM Post #28 |
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Bael set his pen down. The ink dripped onto the parchment and stained where he had been writing, the blot casting obscurity over the last word. He turned his gaze on the woman and watched her eat, amused, again his assumptions proven wrong. Freya was very much out of her element. Each movement was... graceful, more than what Bael expected from the rabble he hunted. Well, except for the eating. He supposed he could forgive her for that. Once she finished and began to dress, Bael turned back to his documents, examining what he had already read one-hundred times. "Fledge. His last rider died a year ago. The five previous all within the five months prior. None of the men will ride him, they believe he's cursed." He spoke matter-of-factly, obviously not partaking in the rumors. "He's well trained. Shouldn't give you any trouble unless you try to do something stupid." With that Bael set the pen down again - this time away from his writing - and stood, his eyes sweeping back to Freya. He took one long last look at her, committing every detail of her form to memory. "When I'm not fronting the effort of a selfish, cowardice king, I reside within Morrim, the capital. I have an estate there." He was none too thrilled about that. What did he need such luxury for? "I am on my return today. I imagine I'll be there for the month, and from there?" He shrugged, making his way to the tent flap. "Better off forgetting about me." |
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| Freya LaShale | Jun 22 2009, 09:06 PM Post #29 |
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Love Thief
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Freya picked up the belt she'd been wearing before and fastened it around her waist before retrieving the clothes of her's that had been discarded on the floor. Fledge was his name, and he was cursed, huh? Unlikely. Probably just because his last riders were idiots and went charging into battle the wrong way. Thankfully, she didn't often charge into battle. She was more of a runner with never any real obligation to stand her ground. "Mm. Perhaps," she gave him a cheeky smirk as she sauntered to meet him at the entrance of the tent, bending down right in front of him to fasten her boots to her legs and collect her weaponry. "But I don't think I could forget you even if I tried my hardest, Sugar." When the bandit returned to her full height, she took one step closer to fall into him, wrapping her arms once more around the base of his neck, just at the bulking muscles there. He was still so tall, she could hardly reach. "You're gonna have to come down to my level for a goodbye kiss, Darlin'. I'm afraid even on my tip-toes I wouldn't be able to reach you. By the way, how's the weather in the stratosphere up there?" She would meet with him again soon, she knew, so she felt it unnecessary to stay much longer. Freya didn't think he was the type to lay around in bed cuddling all day, and she had places to go, things to steal. |
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| Rohriel | Jun 23 2009, 12:13 PM Post #30 |
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"Hmph." Bael grunted as Freya bent over right in front of him. A taunt, no doubt. Never-the-less, he stood - patiently - and awaited for the woman to finish, allowing for her take her own time. With all these slights, annoying phrases, and general lack of respect and any discipline, Bael had to admit; he liked her. Sugar? Was that really a term of endearment? It was sweet. The man almost shivered as she placed her arms about his neck. In response to the request, he reached around with both hands, placed them on her side and gently lifted the woman in the air once more. He actually cracked a smile before leaned in just far enough for one, last kiss. Perhaps it lasted too long, but he cared little. Even if she were not as enthralled as he, and he suspected she wasn't, that embrace was for his own sake. If just to hold on to his humanity a bit longer. "One more thing," Bael lowered Freya back to the ground, setting her down gently. He retracted a single hand and reached into his pocket, producing a folded piece of parchment. "It's a writ of passage. It will get you past any soldier in Morrim; most nobles won't go against it, 'lest they wish to see my sword." Inadvertantly, Bael turned toward the massive blade, scanning the seven-foot long blade with a quizzical gaze. He could not remember the last it was so far from his person. Turning his attention back on Freya, he extended the parchment. "I suspect you'll abuse it, but just don't do anything to get yourself arrested; otherwise you're out of my hands." |
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| Freya LaShale | Jun 23 2009, 06:37 PM Post #31 |
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Love Thief
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She allowed herself to be once more lifted, squealing in joy as he did, which came from her just before the fit of giggles. Freya couldn't help herself. Each time he so easily seemed to lift her, she felt all warm and tingly. The red-head came to him for the rest of the distance, feeling his motion wouldn't suit a goodbye kiss well enough. She hugged his neck tightly and grinned towards the end before being set back down. The bandit took the folded piece of paper and nodded at his explanation before tucking it away on her person. She had to snicker at his speculations. He knew her too well already. Indeed, she would have much fun with this. "Of course, Darling. Why would I ever want to stray far from your big, strong hands?" her own touch rested high, caressing the side of his right bicep. "Don't worry about me. I've been arrested more times than I can count, and I've gotten out of it every single time. I'll see you again soon. I promise." After one last, little grin, she turned and slid through the entrance of the tent, raising a hand to shield the painful sun from her eyes. "Well, hello there, Fledge!" she said excitedly as she reached the mare, giving him an affectionate rub on his neck before stepping around to mount. Her discarded clothes were tossed in the saddlebag, and, taking the reigns, she tugged on the beast to turn and begin. |
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