Ghosts of the Past

[Laurna]

"What devil's magic is this?" Rayne cursed. The riders who had stumbled into his trap were preparing to ride out.  They had milled around for a while, in small groups; some even searching the grasses for the Caltrops. A couple horses and a man had even looked injured. But even that horse and rider, with the greatest injury, were among the rest preparing to move out. How could that be? He had witnessed the calamity of that horse landing on his toys and seen the rider all bent over in pain. Yet... there they were... whole and riding out. The devil indeed took care of his minions by giving them the impossible ability to Heal. Healing was just a wives- tale, so he believed; was there really such a thing? Would God stand by and let these demon spawn steal his gifts? Apparently so, because they were coming this way.

Suddenly, Rayne knew he had to move out. He daren't get caught, he would not be able to complete his mission and see his master happy; nor help his Queen if he were caught.  Rayne turned his horse into the woods and up the hill. There was no going up the valley until he had escaped these devils. He would have to stay ahead of them and go back down the valley while staying in the woodlands. He was hoping he could find a path over the hill into the next valley. All he needed was a deer trail. His mountain pony could handle any terrain. He was a true hunter after all. He just didn't like the thought of the hunter becoming the Hunted. Perhaps he could devise a quick trap or two to dissuade pursuit.

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron scanned the valley before them for what must have been the hundredth time.  At least it seemed that way.  They had lost almost an hour back at the gate, and Sir Washburn had them riding at a brisk pace.  The Lendour knight wanted to meet up with the Duke of Corwyn before nightfall, and Darcy was in total agreement.

The tension within the group was almost palpable.  Darcy began to feel a dull ache across his shoulders; he ignored is as best he could.

"Master Darcy," Lady Aliset in her Lord Alister voice, loud enough to be heard above the jangling harness and the horses.  She had been scanning ahead with her Deryni senses but had not detected anyone directly in their path.

"My Lord?" Darcy replied, diverting his eyes from the path ahead of them to look across at the man riding beside him.

"Do you think we will run into more trouble?"  Aliset asked as she attempted to ease the tension in her own back.

"I have no idea," Darcy said after a moment.  "I feel we must be ready for anything.  I certainly didn't expect to find caltrops strewn around a country gate!  In fact," he continued, pointing forward,  "for all we know there may be a herd of killer coneys hiding in the bushes just ahead, ready to dash out and trip us!"

Aliset's sudden laugh caused Sir Washburn to turn and look back at her.

"Master Darcy is suspicious of killer coneys ahead," Aliset said after catching her breath.  Washburn gave Darcy a stern look.

"Aye, it could be," Darcy said and grinned.  "But look at it this way.  After we defeat the demon foe we can roast them for dinner!"

Aliset laughed again, Washburn rolled his eyes heavenward, and the squire riding beside him chuckled.

"Quiet up there, Master Darcy," called Father Columcil.  "You are making me hungry."

Sir Washburn shook his head and refocused on the way ahead.  Had Darcy allowed himself to seem ridiculous to ease the strain for just a bit?  He wouldn't put it past him.

[Laurna]

"It's a wonder the Norse folk ever come out of their homes; what with folk tales of Trolls under every bridge and mountain cave, and these 'killer coneys' hiding in the bushes, a herd of them no less." The knight tried to suppress a smile, but failed. He looked out over the bare fields to the right. He could swear he could see a few of those long eared hares near a hedge row. Fat ones by the look of them.

Wash turned his focus to see if he could call one closser.
((12:39 LaurnaWash calling out a rabbit.
12:39 Laurna !roll 1d6
12:39 derynibot 1 == 1))

Quite the opposite. The hare jumped back, making a dash for the hedge like a fox was on its tail. The knight had to laugh. He would have to leave beast-calling and the like for Father Columcil. That talent he had just discovered was enough for him to learn. Again he tried to suppress the elation of making a  successful Healing. That was a wonder from the heavens indeed.  Shadow whinnied, seeming to agree with Washburn's thoughts.  Wash patted the big black's neck. "Good Shadow,  and don't you fret those killer coneys won't be tripping you up, I assure you."

Washburn turned his focus back to the trees ahead of them to the left.

((Roll 1d6 success on 4,5,or 6  rolled 4 Verification Number: 1b9qtz5zlg))

Sure enough they're adversary was still ahead moving at a good pace. Wash wanted to catch that man. He didn't want to pass him up or have him double back on them. But he also didn't want to send Jaxom's men into the tree cover prematurely. No knowing what tricks this fellow had in mind. So their group stayed on the main road keeping tabs on the man in the trees ahead of them. Master Darcy may have thought they were moving quickly, but truth was they were going at a nice steady pace. One that allowed for a constant surveillance, yet one that did not allow the man in the trees to get too far ahead of them.

The talk of rabbit for lunch made the knight swallow, he was hungry too. Catch this man up and then they could hunt for a yummy coney to roast.

[revanne]

Father Columcil caught the direction of Washburn's glance and it did not need Deryni powers to work out what the knight was contemplating doing. An empty stomach, the meagre travel rations in their packs, and the prospect of austere Friday fare should they reach Arx Fidei before nightfall, gave enough of a clue. The imagined smell of roasting meat tantalised his nostrils and for a moment he considered giving Washburn a nudge in the right direction. He had no idea whether his companion could call beasts, he knew that he could.

"Lead us not into temptation", he muttered under his breath. These were not the "killer coneys" of Darcy's lurid imagination, nor even the wild coneys of the fields and warrens that saved many a poor family in a hard winter. No, these were St Melangell's sacred hares, and as such best left alone. They were not out of danger yet, nor like to be even once they had met up with his Grace of Corwyn; if the ferocity and ingenuity of the foes they had met were any indication then there was far more at stake than the fate of one heiress. They could not afford to offend any Saint whose aid they might need, still less one to whose service he was sworn. ((Rolling to see whether Columcil acts- 123, Wash fails by himself, 456, Columcil warns the hares away. 6!! 7924gr7qlf))

With a mental "Begging your pardon, my Lord,", a thought that he was careful to keep well shielded, he waited until he saw Washburn's focus sharpen, then sent a flash of warning out to the nearest hare. With a jump it moved back into the hedge as though the fox that Columcil had pictured was indeed on its tail.

Washburn laughed, and bent to pat Shadow's neck. Columcil hoped that his lordship would be as tolerant if he ever brought himself to make confession of his interference.

[Laurna]

The forest ahead was thinning, and that spelt doom for Rayne. Without the trees, he would be seen, and then his pursuers would surely chase him down.  He would double back if he could, but these men seemed to know exactly what pace he kept. They stayed just enough behind him that if he turned, they would have time to run up into the tree-line and catch him. He even tested the theory once by slowing. They seemed to slow too. He felt like he was being herded forward. Why?

Just ahead in an open space there was a small church with a short square tower and a bell perched atop it. He climbed higher in the hillside trees to keep out of the clearing. That is when he saw the glint of metal in the afternoon sun. The were still a little off, far down the valley road. Yet sure enough, he sharp eyes spied a small army of riders. "Curse me!" He groaned, was that the black and green pinion he had seen at the break of morning down by Arx Fidei. Why are they on this road? One guess. The huntsman thought as he looked back over his shoulder at the the riders on the same road, just up the valley behind him. If ever he needed to get out of this valley and over the hill to the next one, it was now!

With the church building below him, he finally found what he was looking for. A walking path that went from the church yard, and headed north up into the trees and north over the hill. This was his escape. If he was to make it, he had better slow his pursuers down. He had formulated two ideas, he had just been waiting for a chance to use them.

He carried two iron beast traps; he pulled them from his bags before he jumped to the ground. He found a good spot to lay them just inside the tree line where the wind had swept the debris to cover the path. Opening the round jaws with their sharp pointy teeth, the hunter set each one on the diagonal across the path about three strides from each other. He didn't bother spiking the chains into the ground. He wasn't coming back for meat. He just didn't want to be pursued any longer. Grabbing an arm full of debris, he strune the leaves across the traps and all across the path. Hiding his work.  Then, if that wasn't enough, about fifty feet up the path he set a trip line a few inches off the ground, tying each end securely to a tree. He was running out of time. The riders were coming up to the church.

Quickly mounting, Rayne, trotted his pony up the steep incline of the path.

[Laurna]

((again keeping track of the adversary  success on 4,5,6  rolled 2 Verification Number: 5jbv387j1j))

Unlike the several times before, the Deryni knight cast forth his ability to keep track of the man they were chasing and just how far ahead of them he had gone. This time, Wash could sense him not. Wash looked around with his eyes. He could not see any motion ahead of them. Where did the man go?

((seeking the adversary, Rolled 1 Verification Number: 3mpxnl5m8t))

Wash rubbed an eye, trying to refocus. I am so hungry, I am losing my focus? he considered the notion for a moment. No, he couldn't sense the man ahead, because he no longer was ahead. But where?

The Rhemuth bound rider's cantered along the valley road as it curved around a gathering of trees. On the far side, a long wood fence separated the open field from the road. What at first looked to be odd shaped gray colored sheep, turned out to be several rough cut standing stones, many with the cross engraved on the flat side. Here was the valley residence graveyard. Up the hill a pace was a low church built from the same grey stones as the grave markers.

"Whoa!" Wash called to the men before him, signaling the men behind with a held up hand. "Lets halt for a moment." He brought Shadow down to a walk and then pulled a little more firmly on the reigns. All the other horses were happy to take a break, Not Shadow. The black pranced in agitation for a second before settling to a stop.  Master Darcy and Lord Aliset came up level with Washburn. Jaxom turned his horse to the side. Half looking at the knight while still keeping a wary eye on the road.

"What is it? not more of those evil iron stars?" Darcy asked. The tension in his shoulders was keen, an hour was not enough time to forget the pain of falling, literally, into the trap set for them before. He didn't even want to contemplate more trouble, yet he was sure it was there. As they all were.

"I sense a change, but can not make it out." Wash said. "Alister can you find our man? I'll not run us into more trouble if we can avoid it." Wash didn't have to ask twice as the heir of Mariot was already meditating on her ring and seeking the creator of the caltrops trap.

[revanne]

Columcil was glad to see Darcy included in the leaders' deliberations and even more glad that he was not. The life of a country priest had not prepared him for decisions about strategy and his own leadership, though confidently exercised, was of a different realm. He was content enough to remain in the background and pick up the pieces, though he would have been even more content if there were no pieces to pick up. Somehow he doubted that would be the case.

He patted Spean's neck in appreciation of the pony's courage and stamina and cast a wary eye at Shadow's impatient prancing. "Aye, we're best off knowing our place, you and me, eh Spean." But that did not mean that he did not have skills that he could offer in addition to his healing; most of his life had been spent finding his way outdoors, with a freedom that he could daresay that their lordships would have envied. He slid off Spean's back and loosely looped the reins over the saddle bow. Spean was uninterested; he was going nowhere beyond the low growing blaeberry bushes with their succulent leaves to the side of the road.

Walking up to the leaders, he bowed respect and asked, "Wi' your permission, my lords, I'll just tek a canny look around yonder." Washburn nodded, his mind still on Aliset, but added, "Don't go out of bowshot range though, we don't know yet where our friend with the caltrops has gone"

Columcil bowed acquiescence and carefully sweeping the ground in front of him with his staff he moved forwards alongside the path, as he did so he allowed his senses, both human and Deryni, to likewise sweep across his surroundings. Suddenly he recoiled. A sense of something wrong, something hidden, something put there with evil intent assailed him ((rolling for Columcil to sense danger 6+5 =11 3w58pddw45)). His hand went automatically to the cross around his neck "deliver us, Lord from all evil!" and he tightened his focus. It was there ahead of them on the path. Suddenly he saw it, about fifty yards further on. A rope tied across the path, just a few inches above the ground. He shuddered at the thought of Shadow, cantering proudly out in front, tangling his legs in that and being brought down. He heard in his imagination the splintering of bone and the mental scream of pain which would go through him, and he made no doubt Sir Washburn, like red-hot metal.

Forgetting all else he turned to go and stumbled in his haste, his staff slipping on the piled leaves. ((Columcil avoids the mantraps, same validation as above, 2+1 =3!! I hope Wash can remember how to heal)) Fearful of loosing his balance he took three falling steps to the side before managing to jerk himself upright and put his foot firmly down. For a moment he did not know whether the pain belonged to him or someone else, then as the fiery agony took hold he could be in no doubt. Shards of white hot pain were shooting through his right ankle; he tried to lift it and could not. Looking down he saw that he was caught in that most evil of things, a man trap, the cruel metal teeth biting through his ankle and blood beginning to spurt from the wounds. Loosing his balance entirely he toppled over, the intensification of pain made everything around him begin to pulse with a pale bright light. Just before he passed out he was aware of his shoulder hitting something hard.

((I do love my character really.))

[Evie]

((Evie snickers a bit at the reference to "Lord Aliset" above. I imagine it's pretty hard for our poor guys to keep track of whether "Alister"/Aliset is a lord or a lady at any given moment!

OK, dice rolls.  Soooooo close on both, but sadly Mibbit declines to cooperate with me today:

<Aliset> !roll 2d6
<derynibot> 4, 2 == 6
<Aliset> !roll 2d6
<derynibot> 2, 4 == 6 ))

Aliset looked up from her scrying with a frown.  "I can't tell for sure where our enemy has gone, Sir Washburn.  I think...northish?  But I couldn't say exactly where with any certainty.  I'm sorry.  The best I can suggest is that we continue in our present direction, as he seems to be heading away from it. I think he's trying to escape us for once, instead of the other way around."

She extended her senses outward, still wary, her instincts not trusting that their foe would be giving up his harassment of them so abruptly without any more of a fight. Why would he do so? Surely not just because he was out of caltrops?  Or perhaps he was retreating to safety because he knew himself to be outnumbered--or at least Aliset hoped that was the reason!--but would he have simply left, or would he have left some other traps behind to hinder their progress?  Unfortunately she could not tell.  She could sense something of his evil intent, but that was hardly helpful; it wasn't as if she hadn't known of that already!

What she could easily sense, however, was a burst of white-hot pain emanating out from a familiar presence just at that moment.  Breaking out of her trance, she searched around her wildly for the source of it, finally spotting him lying in a pile of leaves.  "Father Columcil!"  She began to run towards him.

((<Aliset> !roll 2d6
<derynibot> 5, 3 == 8   Finally!))

As she ran, a reflected glint of light peeking through a similar pile of leaves caught her eye, causing her to stop abruptly.  She extended her senses in that direction, recoiling at what she discovered.  Whirling, she threw up a hand in a halting gesture towards Wash and Darcy, who had started to follow her. "Hold!" she yelled.  "There's a trap of some sort in those leaves!  And I fear Father Columcil must have fallen prey to another."  Picking up a sturdy branch, she proceeded towards the priest with increased caution, prodding the ground in front of her as she went to ensure she was not walking into a trap herself.

[Laurna]

Wash was concentrating with Lord Alister, could she find their missing adversary. She was having as little success as he was. Absently Wash looked up. Where had Columcil gone? He thought he left strict orders to stay in line-of-sight and not go wandering off. Yes, it was lovely country churchyard, but did the man really have to go visiting just now?

((Rolling for find Columcil  1d6  rolled 3 failed. Verification Number: 5z8nt78mvf))

Washburn cast outward. The priest was usually well shielded but surely he should be able to find him. There was a faint snapping sound, a sound which triggered Washburn's alertness, he turned quickly from the church building to look out over the headstones toward the trees.

"Father Columcil!" he called out. Even as Washburn cast outward, he saw Alister's shoulders tense. Then the young lord was running, jumping over the low graveyard border fence, and charging passed gravestones heading toward the tree-line.

((10:50 Washburn !roll 1d6
success on 4, 5, or 6
10:50 derynibot 4 == 4))

Washburn's mind wrenched at the nauseating pain. Columcil's agony was so acute, Wash stumbled forward as he started to follow Lord Alister. Darcy was there with a quick hand under his elbow, allowing the knight to catch his footing. Together the two men leeped the  low fence poles and raced after Alister, followed her through the long grasses and around a few tall headstones.

Damn! There just under the shade of the trees was a blood soaked foot, partially covered over by a priest's habit. The man the foot belong to was arched back his eyes wide his breathing haggard. Beneath the hem of the wool was an metal device, a device of the most evil trappings.

Darcy and Wash both rushed forward together. Only to be stopped by Alister's sharp yell of "HOLD!" She picked up a branch and prodded the ground. SNAPE. A second beastly leg trap released, biting the stick with a daunting force. Hatefully, Lord Alister tossed the branch to the  ground.

The caring heart of Lady Aliset had her dropping in the form of Lord Alister, to his knees alongside Father Columcil's shoulders. She had her hands over his eyes attempting to ease his pain.

((13:03 Washburn need a roll for Aliset 2d6
13:04 Washburn !roll 2d6
13:04 derynibot 3, 2 == 5 ))

She did her best to ease the pain, but it was so sharp, it seemed impossible to erase the pain completely. Washburn gave a quick prayer that he would be able to help with that in just a moment. But first there was this mettle monstrosity that had to be opened. He knelt at the fore of the foot and pointed Darcy to go to the back. Both men nodded to one another, knowing they had to open the jaws together to free the wounded leg. "On three!" Wash called. Placing a hand over each jaw of the bloody iron. Darcy did the same on his side. "One... two... three..." with force the two men spread the jaws wide. The pin to hold it open was on a small chain and Darcy was the one to slip the pin into the evil device. With careful manipulations they were able to slip the trap off the man's ankle. Blood soaked the ground as they did so. The foot hung off angle, as they carefully lifted it free, and finally laid the leg back to the ground.

Washburn's heart pounded in his chest, he had to be quick, he had to use every once of power that he had. But first he had to steady his mind, he had to focus. Focus deep, find his center,  the medallion had helped him before. His fingers fumbled around his neck, finally finding the chain there. Pulling the medallion free, he looked at the face that seemed to frown at him. "I am so sorry, Saint Camber, But I need you again. So soon, I know, but I need you to help me. I know you will help a good man of the cloth. You will not make him suffer after all the good that he has accomplished."

Wash took a deep breath and centered, he calmed, he  really did care for this man and that helped him find a place deep in his mind where his father's talent began to steer to life. It didn't want to come out at first. The Healing gift was slow to manifest, until Wash doubled his efforts by adding his full effort into the mix.

((Washburn 1d6Healing (6) deep deep focus(one pip lower, 5,6), hero point( one pip lower 4,5,6) rolling healing Columcil  rolled 4 Verification Number: 12bg2fwnrm))

What had troubled him most was the angle of the bone. With one hand on the foot and the other cupped around the ankle, Wash had to straighten that which was broken and heal the bone when it was finally correctly positioned. If he just had the training to know when that was. Miraculously a eitheral hand covered his hand and a mind guided his hands to make the brake straight. "Your sure that is good?" Wash asked the other; getting back an assurance that was sensed but not seen. He extended his Healing, he felt the bone knit back into wholeness.

((Healing points 1d6 rolled 2. 2/2  = 1 healing point. Verification Number: 36lcqnj8p7))

The bone felt good under his hand, but still a warmth seeped out between his fingers. The bleeding had slowed but the wounds from the teeth were quite deep. Again Wash focused on the flesh, using every once of energy that he could muster.  He was happy to accept Master Darcy's hand on his. The seaman was allowing him to draw energy from him and that was as much a miracle as any other.

((11:27 Washburn !roll 1d6  healing on(6)  Hero point on(5,6)
11:27 derynibot 5 == 5))

That bit of added energy did the trick. Washburn breathed out as flesh repaired itself under his hands. There was a sense of the saints pleasure at helping even as the saint disappeared. And then Wash was looking at Darcy's concentrating face. "Thank you, I needed that." Wash said. He removed his hands, he used the hem of the priestly robe to wipe the remaining blood away.

((13:49Washburn opps forgot to make one more roll for healing points. I will get this posted yet. 13:50 Washburn!roll 1d6
13:50 derynibot 6 == 6
So 6/2= 3 three healing points.))


"We really do need a laundress," he quipped looking up at the pale face of his patient. "Aliset, is he alright?" he asked all concerned. forgetting to use the lady's brother's name. He twisted his face up for a moment at the lapse.  Lord Jaxom who was standing near, but not to near. Hopefully, he had not heard him.

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron sat back on his heels, feeling drained, but glad he had been able to assist.  He could only wonder at magic powerful enough to save a man's life.  Or destroy it.  The concept of a death trigger still disturbed him. 

Father Columcil stirred, opened his eyes, and after a moment, tried to sit up.  Lord Alister helped him, murmuring quiet words of encouragement.  Columcil shook his head and then tentatively reached toward his ankle, looking relieved that all was well.

Darcy stood and withdrew a pace or two.  Lord Jaxom and his men milled about, apparently having failed to catch the man who had done this.   Darcy hoped the man would eventually be brought to justice.  Given the chance, he would be more than happy to administer that justice himself.

Good and evil, evil and good.  Aliset had told him it was the person that turned the magic to evil, not the magic itself.  Father Columcil had said much the same during Darcy's confession.  Was it that simple or that complex?  Darcy sighed.  It was what it was, and he would have to deal with this new hand he had been dealt.

Lord Jaxom seemed to be studying Lord Alister.  For no good reason, Darcy felt a vague disquiet.

"Lord Alister," Darcy said in the old voice that carried well across the deck of a ship.  "Let us help Father Columcil back to the horses."

Between them, they helped the priest up on his feet, and supporting him between the two to them, guided him away from the traps that had been laid.

Lord Jaxom followed, still thoughtful.

[Evie]

"I think he'll be fine," said Aliset, only vaguely aware of Washburn's momentary slip of the tongue as she took stock of Father Columcil's condition, marveling anew at the Healing gift that her twin brother had once used and which it seemed Lord Washburn had now managed to learn. Oh, how she wished she'd shared her twin's talent in that area, although the time or two she had attempted it in the past had yielded no result.  Ah well.  It was said the gift was rare, even in this new generation of increasing openness and learning about how to use Deryni gifts.  She would simply aspire to find other avenues for increasing her skills in the innate talents she did have.  She felt for her water flask, unstoppering it and handing it over to the priest as she continued to indirectly address Lord Washburn's question as she spoke to Columcil.  "Here, Father, drink this. It should help your body make up for the lost blood in due time. You need to keep your fluid intake as high as possible in the next few days until it's fully replenished. Deryni Healing can only do so much." As she realized she was probably informing the most experienced Healer of their group of something he probably already considered blindingly obvious, she blushed. "As you doubtless already know."

"Lord Alister," Darcy said, "Let us help Father Columcil back to the horses."  Aliset glanced up at the man with a ready smile, thankful for the distraction from the momentary awkwardness.  With a nod, she rose, assisting the good Father to his feet.  "Steady?" she asked him, and after Columcil had a moment to get his balance and give her a confirming nod, she and Master Darcy escorted him back to Spean's side.  Looking around again to catch Lord Washburn's eye, she noticed Lord Jaxom watching them--or was he looking at Master Darcy?--with an oddly intent look, and wondered why, but it would hardly be ethical of her to use her Deryni powers to pry. They had more important matters to concern them than satisfying a momentary curiosity, anyway.  She looked around at the others.  "Has anyone had a chance yet to ensure the rest of the path forward is clear of other traps?"

[revanne]

Columcil felt the healing warmth, that he was accustomed to sense leaving his being into another, this time entering into his body bringing a blessed end to pain and restoring flesh and bone to their proper place. He thought he caught a glimpse of a grey cowled face giving him a compassionate but reproving shake of the head. He must be still half in a swoon he thought. As Lord Alister helped him to sit up and he turned to look at him he half expected to see Lady Aliset smiling down at him; more peculiar still, as his eyes regained their focus, he was sure that there was a young woman in a nun's habit walking away from him a couple of hares gambolling at her feet. He took the water that was offered to him and drank gratefully. Quite obviously he needed to clear his head. Seeing visions was all very well, not seeing danger was more to the point in their present predicament. No wonder St Camber, for it could only have been he, had administered a gentle rebuke.

Thank God and his saints for these his companions who had come to his rescue; he would need to make both thanks and apologies for his stupidity, but now was not the time. He had turned back and lost concentration for a reason, what was it? Blessed Saviour, yes, the rope!

As Lord Alister and Master Darcy helped him back to Spean's side, his eyes urgently sought Lord Washburn. "My lord! Further up yon road, there's a rope. It's stretched across to trip our horses. It's what I was coming to tell ye, when..."

His voice trailed off, he would readily humble himself before Lord Washburn but not before Lord Jaxom's watchful eye nor that of his men.

Lord Washburn nodded somberly -was there no end to the malice of their opponent? - and turning to Lord Jaxom he said, "Yet more trouble! Can I ask you to send a couple if men ahead on foot to investigate. And from past experience, best have them covered by a couple of your best archers who can be clearly seen"

Whatever was puzzling Lord Jaxom he laid it aside and went to give the necessary orders.

[Jerusha]

"Did you pick up Father Columcil's staff?" Darcy Cameron asked Lord Alister.

"No, I didn't," Alister responded.

"I should have thought of that," Father Columcil said.  "I seem to be causing no end of trouble."

"It's not you that's causing trouble, Father," Darcy said.  "I'll fetch it."

"Master Darcy, please be careful."   Alister looked beyond him back towards the spot the staff was likely to be found.

"I think I'm a match for any killer coneys," Darcy said with smile.  Surprised at the angry look Alister shot at him, he hastily added, "In truth, I can't believe the man who set up the two traps and trip wire could have had time to do much more, but I'll be careful.  You have my word on it."

True to his word, he jumped the graveyard border fence and proceeded slowly forward.  As he neared the bloody ground around the trap the priest had sprung, he was even more cautious.  He spotted Columcil's staff to his right and carefully picked it up. He hefted it with renewed respect for the man who wielded it so well.  The added weight of the iron was impressive.

Darcy turned carefully to return to the group when something a little farther ahead caught his eye.  He took a cautious step forward and nudged it with the staff.  It was a metal tin.  He picked it up carefully and shook it; something inside rattled.  Dolt!  That had probably been a foolish move; anything could be inside this tin.

Darcy wondered if he could sense if it was safe or not the same way his Deryni companions did.  He tried to extend his senses, concentrating on the tin in his hand.

Rolling two dice, since Darcy is untrained in his powers
Jerusha   !roll 2d6
16:17   derynibot   3, 5 == 8
Success!

Darcy almost dropped the tin as a sense of foreboding filled his mind.  Whatever was inside the tin could stay there.  He looked toward the trees away from the path.  That line would do well; no one would be likely to be passing that way when there was a good path.  He drew back his arm and hurled the tin.  It flew true and far enough away that he did not hear it land.

He turned and made his way carefully back to the horses.  Columcil, Aliset, Washburn and Jaxom were all staring at him as he leaped back over the fence.

"What was that about?" Washburn asked.

Darcy took a moment to hand the staff back to Columcil before answering.  "I don't know, exactly.  I found a tin with something inside that rattled.  It may have been dropped by the man in his haste to set the traps.  Whatever was in it, I'm sure it was evil.  So I chucked it away."

The four faces staring at him displayed a variety of emotions.  Washburn annoyed, probably because he had not been consulted.  Columcil seemed to understand; Alister looked to be somewhere in between.  Jaxom was mystified.  Darcy remembered Aliset's rebuke for not asking questions before charting his course.  How long ago was that, back in the Nunnery yard?

"Beg pardon that I acted without consulting you," Darcy said, although not looking very contrite.  "For all I knew it might have blown up when opened, and I didn't think we had the time to destroy it like you did the amulet.  If I have erred, the fault is mine."

[revanne]

Columcil found himself warming even more to Darcy. He took the staff gratefully, and when Darcy felt obliged to mutter words of contrition for what seemed to Columcil a very sensible action - he was no seaman but surely if you stopped to consult your betters whenever danger at sea loomed the entire crew risked being drowned and the ship lost whilst honour was being satisfied - he put his hand briefly on the other's shoulder in a gesture of support.

He supposed that their journey together had been a little like being being at sea, each becoming dependent on the other for their very survival and the normal rules of protocol and deference to an extent set aside. This had inevitably changed with the arrival of Lord Jaxom and his men; he really must get over his dislike of the man who was harmless enough though he did, in Columcil's not nearly humble enough opinion, seem a bit gormless. ((Quick translation. Gormless is a British word which avoids the stigma of bad language but is very expressive. It means daft, or dozy - someone who is a "few sandwiches short of a picnic."))  It would change even more once they arrived at Arx Fidei and thence, he supposed to Rhemuth. And even before they got to Arx Fidei, the Duke of Corwyn was riding to their rescue, with the might and authority of the Crown of Gwynedd, and the boundary between noble and commoner would become absolute.

Ah well, it was as it was. But surely they did not need to appear before him as ragged vagrants. He had never thought of vanity as one of his sins; he was learning a lot about himself not all of it good. Maybe there was a solution though.

Quietly turning to Lord Alister he said with a formal bow, "Might I have a private word, My Lord?"

Lord Alister looked a little bemused but agreed readily enough. Walking far enough to be out of earshot Columcil continued. "Actually it's Lady Aliset I need, my Lady, or at least her skills." He added the latter quickly as the male face confronting his looked askance. "We're out of the wilderness now, and belike to meet with his Grace of Corwyn. I'd no like him to think us a pack o'beggars. D'ye no have some spell that can tidy us up a bit?"

[Evie]

Aliset gave Father Columcil a sympathetic smile.  "Well, I can try, at least."  Murmuring the words of the spell, she waved a finger in the priest's direction.

((13:11   Aliset   !roll 2d6
13:11   derynibot   2, 3 == 5))

His clothing appeared to shimmer briefly, stains and tears fading out of sight, but alas, the illusion lasted only for mere moments.  Aliset shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Father. I think perhaps if I were better rested, but I'm having trouble maintaining enough focus for the task at the moment.  But I'd be glad to mend your cassock once we're able to stop for rest, and perhaps we can find more suitable clothing in Arx Fidei."