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Author Topic: Ghosts of the Past  (Read 8412 times)

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Online revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #270 on: February 22, 2018, 03:50:22 pm »
Columcil traced the sign of the cross on Washburn's forehead, aware as perhaps not before of just how hard it must have been to grow up as a hero's son. Running wild amongst the other lads at Transha, and though studious he had been as wild as any of the others, he had no-one to be constantly compared to and found lacking. His step-father had been kindly enough - and ready enough with his belt when Columcil's quick intelligence led him into more than acceptable mischief - and he had not felt the lack of a father or a name but until now he had not thought that perhaps he and not his noble kinsman was truly the privileged one.

"My Son, do not take too much upon yourself," - as he heard himself speak Columcil realised how quickly he was returning to the more cultured speech he had learnt at Seminary and which he believed he had all but lost in his years in the borders. Irritated with himself for his irrelevant self-absorption at such a time he continued, "if failing to take care of your belongings is a mortal sin then hell's going to be a mighty busy place."

Washburn gasped at such irreverent language from a priest and then as Columcil had hoped looked up and returned the priest's smile, albeit weakly.

"I could not fail but hear, linked as we were, but rest assured that I shall regard anything I heard as sacred as if it were in the confessional. That was her Grace the Duchess I take it?"

"My mother, yes, the Dowager Duchess," Washburn swallowed hard, willing no more tears to come.

"Well she has a son of which she can be very proud." Seeing that Washburn seemed inclined to debate the point Columcil turned away and mounted Spean, though not without giving a glance of wistful envy as Washburn in his turn mounted. It had been wonderful to ride Shadow even for such a short time. Again he rebuked himself and patted Spean's neck, "Truth is, my beastie, you're more suited to an old priest, take no notice of my haverings."

« Last Edit: February 22, 2018, 03:58:48 pm by revanne »
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #271 on: February 22, 2018, 06:57:18 pm »
Darcy Cameron sat astride Sigrun, absently stroking her neck.  It was more to calm himself that his horse.  Every nerve seemed to be on edge.  He did not share Lord Jaxom’s sense of relief.  He had an uncomfortable feeling that their foe, whoever he was, might be counting on that.

Sir Washburn seemed preoccupied with something, standing as he was between his own horse and Father Columcil’s.  The good Father had joined the knight and together they seemed to be concentrating on something.  Darcy hoped it had something to do with contacting Duke Kelric, but he had not been privy to what transpired.

A movement beside him caught his attention.  Lord Alister moved his horse into position beside him.  Darcy nodded, careful to avoid any presumption.  Lord Alister nodded, carefully neutral.

Bloody hell, Darcy thought.  It had been easier when he had only known her as Lord Alister.  This would not do; there was too much at stake to lose his focus now.

“My Lord,” Darcy said to Alister.  “I think we are ready to leave.”  He looked ahead to Lord Jaxom.  As they had agreed earlier, Lord Jaxom would take the lead along with one of his men-at-arms.  Sir Washburn would follow, with Jaxom’s squire riding beside him.  Darcy and Lord Alister would come next, followed by one of Jaxom’s bowmen and Father Columcil.  The remaining bowman and man-at- arms would come last.    Sir Washburn had not been pleased at first with the arrangement, but finally agreed when Darcy pointed out that he made too clear a target for a crossbowman if he took in the lead.

Darcy had argued that the Watch Captain could spare two of his men to ride with them, but the Captain had been adamant that their duty was to Droghera.  Sir Washburn had reluctantly agreed; the Captain would not budge, and they could not delay longer.  The Captain’s party had departed with their captive and the body of the dead crossbowman, wishing them Godspeed on their journey.

Now Sir Washburn and Father Columcil were mounted, and Lord Jaxom signalled for them to move out. 

Darcy was not sorry to leave Droghera behind, but he fervently hoped safety for them, and especially Lady Aliset, would be found ahead. 
« Last Edit: February 22, 2018, 07:56:37 pm by Jerusha »
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

Offline DerynifanK

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #272 on: February 22, 2018, 08:49:57 pm »
((Have to agree with Darcy. This is scary, hope they make it ok.))
« Last Edit: February 23, 2018, 06:35:21 am by Evie »

Online Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #273 on: February 23, 2018, 04:31:08 am »
The riders turned off the main road onto the rutted county path.  They waded through two small streams and past a thick glen of trees which cleared suddenly to drop into a valley between two mountains; opening to an inspiring view of  Gwynedd’s grasslands.



As far as the eye could see, rolling green covered every inch of land. Tiny farmsteads dotted the countryside. Not a castle could be seen. This was the hidden heart of Gwynedd. This land belonged to the hard working common folk, who eked out a fair living by raising sheep and cows, and tilling small patches of land to grow their food.

Washburn had been tense through the denser tree cover as the narrow road ran through it. His senses were heightened as he look for any signs of the third man who had orchestrated the last attempt to capture him.

(( 1d6  success on 4, 5 or 6, rolled 3 Verification Number: gj2w728l5m))

He sensed no one, yet he didn’t trust his own powers at the moment to not have miss what might be hidden. Therefore, he kept a wary eye on their surroundings. Behind him, he noted that Lady Aliset was doing the same.  When they breasted the hillock and looked down over the valley, a small sense of relief swept through the party. Below was open country. A follower would have to keep a greater distance to not be detected by one of their group. Wash took a moment to slow Shadow and move back level to the two behind him.

“Master Darcy. You are probably thinking the same as I. I want it to be understood that if you are questioned about it later, what I say to you are my orders and if it comes to pass, you are doing as I requested.” Darcy’s lips pressed together, certain he was not going to like what he heard. “I believe there is safety in numbers, and I believe we need to stay together. However, there may be circumstances ahead where that may be an impossibility. Your priority is not to me. It is to Lord Alister.” Darcy was nodding with understanding, even while Alister/Aliset was preparing to argue the point against it. “Listen to me, Lord Alister. You and Darcy must escape whatever trap is laid before us. You must make it to the king.  Darcy will be certain that he gets you there. I have no doubt the man is a capable protector. If at all possible, take Columcil with you. He is a good man with more talent than one would expect from a borderland priest.  Lord Jaxom and I will fend off the best we can to be sure you get away.”

Even Darcy wanted to protest, even though he knew in his heart this was how it had to be. “I will be condemned for leaving you behind.”

“That is why I am enforcing that these orders come directly from me. I am not without my own defenses. I can handle myself. And it isn’t my intention to fall into the enemy's hands. Trust me! If I know the lady is safe, it will be far easier for me to do what needs to be done. Do we understand one another.”

“Aye, my lord, we do.”

“Lord Alister?”

She was none to happy, never-the-less she complied. “Aye.”

“Thank you,” Washburn said. “What I am counting on, is that we will meet the Duke of Corwyn at the base of this valley, before the end of this day.” Better assured Wash spurred Shadow to move back in line ahead.

Wash cast out his senses again. (( 1d6 success on 4,5,or 6  rolled 4 Verification Number: 7drh5lgr23))   This time, as they moved into the open farmland, he was more assured that if they were being watched, it was from a greater distance. One that could not do immediate harm.

Offline Evie

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #274 on: February 23, 2018, 10:10:20 am »
((09:24   Valerian   !roll 3d6
09:24   derynibot   3, 3, 2 == 8
09:24   Valerian   !roll 3d6
09:24   derynibot   1, 2, 4 == 7

09:25   Aliset   !roll 2d6
09:25   derynibot   3, 1 == 4
09:25   Aliset   !roll 2d6
09:25   derynibot   1, 6 == 7))

Valerian watched from a distance, scrying for the Morgan stripling and the runaway de Mariot chit.  As the image of the travelers resolved into crystal clarity before him, he bit back a curse.  There, stretched out before them, was the wide-open vista of the beginning of the Gwynedd lowlands.  His minions had failed him, and he was beginning to run out of options.  He could not afford to stretch out his resources too thinly, after all; he needed to hold some reserves back for the taking of Ratharkin and eventually Laas.

But he was far from powerless to stop them, even at this remove.  He had a contingency plan. 

The table before him on which his scrying crystal sat also held an open map and a bowl of water.  Murmuring the words of an incantation, he began to sprinkle water upon the map, focusing his working over the stretch of terrain where the travelers rode, even now beginning their descent into Gwynedd.  As he sprinkled the parchment, he began to blow, his hot, heavy breath sweeping over the increasingly wet display before him.

================

Aliset surveyed the lowlands before her with a worried frown. Something felt...wrong somehow, but she could not say exactly what or why.  Those storm clouds in the distance were vaguely disquieting, though.  Summer showers were hardly a rare thing in Gwynedd or Meara, but what had started off as fluffy white clouds gathering like sheep overhead had begun to turn gray and ominous.  Could a storm be brewing?  She tried to cast out with her senses, wondering if perhaps they ought to find shelter, though she was loath to stop before their party reached the relative safety of Arx Fidei, or at least met up with the Duke of Corwyn's reinforcements.  However, distracted as she was by her growing sense of urgency to reach safety as soon as possible, she failed to detect anything unnatural about the gathering storm.

=================

Valerian frowned as he continued his weather working.  While the clouds looming above the escaping party grew darker and more ominous, large drops of rain beginning to fall upon them now and the grass bending under the winds he was creating, he had intended to wreak far more havoc upon them than that!  Slowly, never taking his eyes off the scene in the crystal before him, he stabbed one finger on the map above the unwary travelers, circling it above their heads, at first slowly but then with increasing fervor, attempting to create a vortex, a whirlwind to destroy all along its path.  But it was of no use.  With no one else at hand whose energies he might draw upon, the clouds in his view swirled uselessly above the escaping travelers, creating gusts and rain but little else.  All he had accomplished was a steadily more ruined map.  With a cry of fury, he hurled it across the room.

==================

With a cry of horror, Aliset saw the swirling clouds and suddenly realized this was no ordinary storm. 

"Sir Washburn!" she called out, pointing to the vortex attempting to coalesce above them.  "We must seek shelter, now!"

The knight, casting his gaze skyward, noted her cause for alarm. Searching the landscape below them frantically for someplace their party could escape to, the only shelter that seemed adequate was a stone-walled barn on a farm in the near distance.  Signalling to Lord Jaxom and Darcy, he indicated that they should all ride for cover to wait out the storm, hopeful that they might arrive in time to set up wards for additional protection, yet just as suddenly as the storm had arisen, it dispersed, leaving behind a cloudless, sunny sky.
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Online revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #275 on: February 23, 2018, 12:03:15 pm »
His Majesty the King ran his hands through his hair until it stood up on end. Dhugal and he had been friends for over half a century and sometimes his blood-brother was as exasperating now as he had been as a hot-headed young man.

"Dhugal, do you really need me to spell out for you the difference between a topic for discussion and an order!" But the expression in those grey Haldane eyes was less anger than frustration."

"Jesus Christ, man! - Sorry Duncan- Think, will you! I need you to return to Ballymar. I agree the rebels, whoever they are, are most likely to attack Ratharkin while Rory is absent, but sooner or later Laas will be in their sights. And short of a full scale invasion of Meara the best way of getting reinforcements to Laas is by sea from Ballymar."

Kelson looked at his glowering blood brother. "So I am not asking you, as you put it "to skulk like an old man by the sea while others have a share in the action" but ordering you to return home and ready that northern fleet that you and Richard Kirby have worked so hard to assemble."

Dhugal put down the goblet which he had been clutching tightly for fear he might succumb to the temptation to throw it at the King and, reaching over the small table which separated them, brushed his lips across the back of Kelson's hand.

"I'm sorry, Kelson and, to give you the answer I should have given ten minutes ago: as you command, Sire. I suppose I didn't expect to have to face this again. The fleet Richard and I have built has really been for trade with the Northlands. As you should know, my lord king, given how much more you've been extracting from my duchy in taxes." The red flush of anger and then embarassment faded from his face and his voice took on his normal teasing tone. Then more seriously he turned to look at borh his father and his king.

"How did we get here again though. Do you have any more idea of who is behind this.?"

Both men shook their heads and looked as worried as Dhugal felt.

Finally the king spoke. "There must be something that I am missing -some focal point but whoever is behind this has been far too clever. One thing though," and he paused as though thinking aloud. "Whatever the Mearan rebels may claim to think of Deryni, there is a Deryni behind this somewhere."





"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #276 on: February 23, 2018, 06:25:41 pm »
Darcy Cameron had seen many storms during his life at sea.  Many had come up as quickly as this one, but never had he seen one that was so suddenly gone.  Totally gone.  Bright sunshine dried his clothes as he rode forward.

He glanced aside toward Lady Aliset, in her guise as her brother, riding beside him.  She looked as disconcerted as he felt.

“Lord Alister,” Darcy said in a tone just loud enough to be heard above the sound of the horses.

“Master Darcy?”

“I suppose that was magic.”

Aliset sighed and nodded.  “I think it was a weather working, but it failed, thank goodness.”

“Aye, or we would not be in Gwynedd anymore.” 

Aliset gave him a surprised look and realized they had finally crossed from Meara into Gwynedd.  “Gwynedd,” she said softly.  “Do you think we can reach Arx Fidei before nightfall?”

“It may be farther than we can reach before the horses need rest.  And ourselves as well,” he added.  “It would stand us well if Duke Kelric reaches us before then.”

“Yes, it would.”

They rode on in silence.  The awkwardness they had both felt seemed to drift away.  It had been a chance moment, nothing more. 

Lady Aliset turned toward her man-at-arms and favoured him with a smile.  Darcy nodded in acknowledgement.  All was well, at least for now.
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

 

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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Jerusha
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by DesertRose
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by Jerusha
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by DerynifanK
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Evie
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by revanne
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by Evie
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Evie
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