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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Born Running
« on: June 02, 2009, 01:50:39 PM »
The baying of the hounds sounded far behind her, but she did not dare stop or slow.  They had her scent, and it was only through flight that she would find escape.  The underbrush seemed to catch and grab at her clothes with every step, and low branches whipped at her face and arms.  Sweat soaked her slender frame, running in rivulets down her skin, to soak pink with blood before dropping away to mark her trail like so many bread crumbs.  And while much of it was not her own, but merely stained her front where she had caught the body of her beloved Master, there was much that was her own, welling in slow ooze from various cuts and scratches, but none so great as the circle on her arm. 

Iron, cold and wicked locked tightly above her bicep, spikes inside the ring piercing her skin and causing the blood to dribble down pale skin in rich contrast.  Closer now, she heard the dogs howl, calling out their find, and chasing the scent.  Fear welled anew in her chest, and she pushed harder onward.

For days, it felt like, she had been running, but the events which had transpired to lead her to this moment had passed in the span of only a few terrible hours.  Morning had dawned, and she and her Master, her dear Grandfather, had taken to their chores.  Scarcely had they finished their morning work and sat down to breakfast when a knock came at their door.  Strange, to had unexpected visitors, for they lived well outside of any town or farm.  Mathes had moved to the door, and curious, Alana had followed after to see who it was.  But rather than any friend or neighbor, they were met with a party of the Alastran Knights.  Elite soldiers of the realm.  Hunters of witches...  They had their weapons drawn and aimed for Mathes, wicked creations called rifles that fired metal balls faster than a bow could shoot.  The one in charge began reading a warrant for their arrest, under the charge of spellcraft and blasphemy.

So shocked, and frightened, Alana had dropped the plates she held.  The crash startled one of the riflemen, and before he could be stopped, he fired.  The slug tore through Mathes' chest, spattering blood and biting Alana's right shoulder as it ripped by, tearing surface flesh before embedding into the wall behind.  She screamed...  After that, things blurred.  She remembered catching her Master as he fell backwards, sobbing and trying desperately to heal him.  But the Knights, they jerked her away from him and Bound her in iron.  She caught Mathes' gaze as they dragged her out, kicking and screaming, unable to cast, saw his sorrow, and saw the light fade from his eyes.  Somehow, in her struggles and screams, she had gotten loose.  And she ran.  They fired after her, several grazing her and drawing blood, but the gods, for whatever reason as they had forsaken her grandfather, preserved her life.

Perhaps the only reason she had made it this long was because she knew the terrain through these woods intimately.  Knew where potholes and ledges were that would trip up the horses.  Knew where the sickly sweet vines grew that would mask her scent from the hounds.  But...they were catching up.  And she knew that she wouldn't be able to outrun them for much longer.  Already the iron was poisoning her.  Her sight drifted in and out of focus, her steps faltering occasionally.  She was tired, and everything hurt.  But she had to keep going.  Had to find some way to break the lock on the shackle and free herself.  And then what, bleed to death?

Closer now...she could hear the men shouting from behind her.  Her awareness sharpened, and she realized that it was late afternoon now, and she had come to a wide river.  The falls...how had she made it so far?  She didn't even remember getting here...  But she stood at the edge now, and looking dully behind her, she saw the soldiers creeping cautiously towards her.

"Come on now, woman, don't make this any harder on yourself.  Give up, you've nowhere to go but to trial." 

"No..."  It was a lie.  The trials were a lie.  Innocent people, who had done no wrong, who had harmed no one, were dragged before the masses and ridiculed and hated, and then after a mockery of justice they were sentenced to burn.  "No..."

"You have no choice!"  Two came towards her, bearing ropes and iron chains.  Alana backed further away, her heels on the edge, the updraft lifting her sweat dampened hair around her.  They grabbed at her, but she fought back, unafraid of the edge.  "Bitch, we'll send you to hell!"

"Then come with me..."  She twisted and jerked, and with a mighty kick, jumped from the edge, taking the two soldiers with her.  They screamed, and from above there was cursing and yells, and she was distantly aware of them shooting at her.  But she no longer felt anything.  One of the men bounced off the stone cliffs on the way down, the other was caught in the heavy downpour of the falls.  For a moment, it felt like she was flying...  Her eyes closed, and she was lost to the mist.

...

Sunset was always beautiful in the forest.  The sky caught fire and bathed everything in gold, and life stood still for a moment to simply bath in the last light of the day, and to enjoy the magic of it.  Even the river, now flowing slow and meandering along shone with the light, its color marred only by the tendrils of crimson which snaked like ribbons from the body caught on the shore.


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Offline AnEmperor

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #1 on: June 03, 2009, 09:18:57 PM »
The tint on Kieran's knuckles matched the dark red locks his sister has curling about her neck. It was a color that her eyes never desired to see except upon her head, but now it's a hue she faces often. Kieran winces slightly as his sister applies a damp cloth to his knuckles; however, his complaint is in vain. The woman before him did not tend lightly to the bruises as she's already stated her concern before; now, it was her way of showing anger without words.

"Ouch," Kieran complains again, pulling his hand back to shake his fingers loosely. "Keira, that water is..." Kieran called it correctly as Keira squeezes the second half of the lemon across his knuckles. The juice flows into the small cracks where blood finds its way out and in the process of killing germs, sends a painful signal back to the brain. "Wait, where are you going," Kieran raises his back off the tall tree providing him shade as Keira steps away toward the outskirts of the forest.

"Clean water," Keira replies, her voice soft and fragile as her eyes wander to her brother, glide to the grass, and then away towards the edge of the forest. Keira appears younger than her true age as her heritage has played a crucial role in her appearance as well as her troubles. Keira is beautiful, elegant, and kind-hearted. Hatred either breaks an individual or forces them to recede from society in one manner or another; Keira has receded to this kindness that parallels an existence that means nothing to others.

Keira takes her time stepping over raised roots and cobwebs as she follows the mist and scent of nearby water. She steps out from the arms of the forest, scurries down the small hill, and splashes her feet against the clear water brushing against the shore. Keira looks down upon the water at her own reflection and tugs slightly on the cap covering her head; but more important, covering her ears. Her smile turns into a slight frown, then into ripples as she roughly passes the bucket through the water to fill its hull.

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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #2 on: June 03, 2009, 10:19:56 PM »
A short distance upstream from the half-blood, a tree had fallen years ago, the upper boughs dropped into the water to create a shelter for all manner of creatures through the seasons.  Now, the leaves were all gone, and only the thickest of branches had survived the passing time.  A large one ran from the shore to several feet out in the flow, blocking from view anything that might have been trapped there by the current.  But a curious sight met Kiera if she looked to the skeleton tree.  On the branches reaching to the sky like clawed hands, sat a gathering of large, dark birds.  Carrion Crows.  And they were all staring down into the water, rather intently.  And that was the thing about these scavengers; they only ate what was dead.  Even a fresh body, as soon as it drew its last breath, they were on it.  But they were waiting.  Which meant that, whatever they were watching, it was still alive.

Something else that may strike the girl was the discoloration of the wood.  Bleached white by years of weather, that largest branch was pink at the bottom, almost red where the water hit.  And meandering away from it was a thin trail of red, clinging together like oil on the surface rather than dispersing and vanishing into the river.  And if she really looked hard, there was something breaking the surface where the old branch twisted up and away from the water, as though it had flowed under the old tree and back to the surface before being caught.  Something dark and oblong, with regular ridging that looked man-made.  Something like the toe of a boot...

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Offline AnEmperor

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #3 on: June 04, 2009, 12:11:40 PM »
It came suddenly like the cry of the sirens piercing Kieran's conscious just before he slipped into daydream. It was Keira's voice. There is no mistake Keira's voice. Although Keira was soft spoken, her vocals when not breaking the heart with a high-pitched, melancholic tune, could nearly shatter glass. It wasn't the time to be thinking nor to have troubling getting to his feet. Kieran willed himself up along the tree and back to his feet with his attention turned toward Keira's last known direction of travel and the source of the scream to adjust for error.

. . .

Keira peers into the bucket to once again confirm her existence but more than her own reflection staring back at her is a swirling red that appears richer in color than most parts of her reflected hair. Keira turns her head slightly to see if the color would flow with her movements but it did not. She drops the bucket into the water that is now filling with the red substance and released, from the depths of her soul, a terrifying scream. Keira falls back, her rear-end splashing into the water rising up toward the shore.

The black-feathered beasts occupying a tree above crow their way into Keira's distorted world. She turns her head in their direction as their heads swivel in multiple directions. They were waiting restlessly and their incessant behavior toward one particular area peaks Keira's curiosity. Her movements are cautiously graceful as her low-cut shoes dip in and out of the water, one after the other. The red trail continued beneath the fallen tree Keira arrives at. She places her hands along the length of the tree and then began moving toward its roots, her eyes stained on the opposite side of the tree should some wild animal decide she was desert. Keira could defend herself though, the girl was not without training. Keira need to train...Keira had to train.

Keira reaches across her lower back to grasp the handle of her second knife with her right hand, her primary weapon left at her brother's location. The blood had begun to accumulate at a specific location just under the tree. Keira angles her head, places her left hand on her left knee for balance, and grips the hilt of the knife tightly. Slowly, cautiously, and with every bit of fear pushing down on her like gravity.

"Keira," Kieran's sudden appearance with his arm against her left shoulder should have sent Keira into frenzy; however, because it was completely unexpected, she simply dropped to her knees from surprise. Before she had the chance to reign havoc on her brother, her eyes caught a figure floating about the water just beneath the tree.

. . .

"Will she be okay," Keira hovers over the figure after Kieran pulled her out from the water?
"She's bruised some but she'll be fine. Leave her there," Kieran began up the hill leading toward the forest.
"She's hurt," Keira lifts Alana's wrist to inspect. "Kieran, bring me those rags," Keira instructs as she begins to tend to the wounds.

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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #4 on: June 04, 2009, 01:13:35 PM »
The pulse was there, but faint.  She had lost a lot of blood since falling into the river.  Most of the smaller wounds had clotted, but it was clear that the main threat was the band of iron around her left bicep.  The skin was discolored there, and when they moved her, the clotting broke and fresh blood seeped slowly out from under the band.  It was held on by a hinge on one side, and a small lock on the other, easily removed by breaking either connection points.

Alana was pale and feverish.  The iron was taking its toll.  She'd never recover if she didn't get that off of her.

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #5 on: June 05, 2009, 01:11:30 PM »
Placing Alana's head on her lap, Keira began to clean away the blood to prevent more clotting so her body could heal. Reaching Alana's left arm, Keira turned her eyes with curiosity at the metallic band. Blood had begun to stream from it once more and Keira feared touching it. The metallic band is that kind of device, one that is feared on sight. Keira turns the arm, somewhat moving Alana as well to inspect. Keira tugs on the band and more blood pours from beneath. She quickly pulls away, then with more determination, pulls out her knife.

"What are you doing," Kieran slides down the small hill once more, this time, with two bags.
"There's something on her arm," Keira points with the knife. Keira allows her heart slow its pace. Kieran had startled her once more, this time, with her a knife in her hand. Any other individual would have been suspicious but her brother knows her well.

"It looks like trouble," Kieran inspects before passing a finger between the lock and pull it loose. The band broke at a seam line and fell to the ground.
"Or an ally," Keira begins to tend to the wound created by the band. "I'm already tired of running from people who have everything and who just want to pick on us just for fun. Kieran, we can't keep running by ourselves!"

"Shut up Keira. If she were an enemy, you just told her everything you shouldn't have," Kieran barks back. After Keira turns back to Alana with melancholic look on her face, Kieran apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to protect you. I feel...I'm always afraid that I won't make it out of a fight. If she gets up to fight, can I successfully defend you?" Kieran's eyes drift to the girl in Keira's lap. The man has definitely seen the arm brace before but he can't recall when, where, or why.

"They'll come looking for her."
"I will protect her," Keira replies immediately.
"How are you going to protect her?"
"Because you're protecting me," she smiles whole-heartedly. It's a smile that could cause any man to give in to her plea, even her brother.

"Whatever. Just get her up so we can leave this place. They'll come looking for her for sure," Kieran puts a smile on Keira's face and an excitement that prays Alana wakes soon. Kieran steps away from the beach to scout for enemies and a trail.

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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #6 on: June 07, 2009, 03:10:51 PM »
Alana was very ill, and would be out for a while.  She needed to rest, to give her body a chance to recover, and to regain some blood.  But even just the removal of the iron seemed to bring her comfort.  It was a wicked thing, its intent revealed when it opened.  Each side of the band bore a spike, meant to drive into the flesh of the shackled when it was closed around their arm.  It was not long or overly large, only about an inch long, and half as wide at the base.  It was not a kind implement.  But, with Keira's care, the blood stopped flowing from the wound, and healing could begin.

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Offline AnEmperor

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #7 on: June 10, 2009, 12:00:49 AM »
Unbeknown st to Kieran, Keira held a painful look in her eyes as she tended to the wound. Who would do such a thing, Keira often asked herself? There is no limit to the disgrace humans bring upon themselves and to the others. The girl has often considered the humans to be a dangerous species but who is she to talk as Keira is some part human and her brother, Kieran, is one hundred percent human. Hating humans would mean hating her brother and a part of herself but what have these self-proclaimed kings left for Keira to feel except hatred.

Keira coaxes Kieran into carrying the girl on his back so long as Kieran suggested they move on. With arms loosely draped over his shoulders, Kieran passes his arms under Alana's thighs and hunches himself forward to prevent her from falling backward. Kieran is a strong, young male who isn't afraid to push himself to his limits. He'd set his eyes on higher ground as he presumed any pursuers would begin searching down below.

"Wait here Kieran, I'm going to grab some more herbs," Keira rushes off before Kieran could stop her. The  partially armored knight grunts as he places Alana against a tree and then stares at the silence of her face before tapping her gently across the cheeks.

"Yo, wake up," Kieran looks over his shoulder to ensure his sister was not yet returning for she would frown upon his act; however, Kieran wanted and needed some answers. Kieran brought his right hand inches from Alana's cheeks again. If the girl did not wake, he would tap her again.

(ooc: Don't think I should be moving your character so let me know if I need to change it)

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Offline Shae Dravenmore

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Re: Born Running
« Reply #8 on: June 10, 2009, 09:29:40 AM »
She was well and truly unconscious.  When iron pierced the skin of a mage - of any mage - it nulled their powers.  When it remained in their body, it poisoned them.  Now that it was gone, the poison remained, but was slowly working its way back out.  Not to mention the blood loss from an open wound submerged in water.  Alana was pale, her face warm with fever.  He could tap her all night and she wouldn't stir.

((Go ahead and move her.  She's in their care until she wakes up.))

 

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