With eyes wide, the woman in Ullar's grasp slowly speaks. "I did not intend what I did to be seen as an attack. From my point of view it was one of your party sneaking up on my companion with daggers bared that was the one who chose to attack. I followed my friend with the intention of keeping her safe. I did not harm your friend, only delay him so that my friend would have the chance to react to his advance. You may still choose to kill me and that will be your choice." She continues, "On my honor I will not fight you, so if you choose to kill me than I will not stop you and it will be in cold blood." She goes silent her eyes looking around.
The greasy human still has his hands in full view, waiting. After rousing the elven maiden, the dirty elf with the bow stands, holding his current position between your group which has Antonia hostage and Dakath.
The Slavic fellow puts his maine gauche away but retains his longsword. He steps up to roughly 15 feet and stops. He leans on his sword and waits.
Rhune hears what the woman has to say and shakes her head, "We are sorry about that...but we have been in one battle after another...He would not have attacked unless she had done so first...but be that as it may...let us say it is over with so that we can all take care of our wounded." Rhune calls out, as she releases the bow and puts the arrow away. "By the way I am Rhune Morthaine," she adds smiling at them, then looking at the red haired man, "Forgive me for that," she utters nodding to the arrow in his chest.
Ullar is considering the woman's words. His grip loosens, but he still keeps her in a hold.
"As soon as my friend is cut loose from this entanglement, I will let you go. I can hardly say the odds are even here, with three of my companions heavily wounded, but I think your words are true and that you are not intending to do us any more harm than already has been done."
Asif nods and moves forward to aid Dakath. Quietly he voices words of encouragement to Dakath. "Struggle less efendi, you just entangle yourself more. My jambiya will cut you free."
Sheathing his scimitars Asif draws his ivory handled jambiya and bends down to the task of cutting the vegetation away from Dakath's limbs. In doing so Asif does his best to keep the enemy in sight.
It takes some minutes for Asif to slowly cut Dakath free. He keeps his eyes on the strangers the entire time.
Dakath thanks Asif for his assistance with removing the vines entangling him. "Thank you my friend, what the hell's going on?" With Asif's assistance he gets up and brushes himself down, removing the dust from his clothes. He looks around for his dagger, hoping to retrieve it. He stops a moment to regard the two groups before moving over to the two groups smiling widely.
He sees the dagger near the woman, who is now being treated by her companions. Quietly, he retrieves the weapon.
Waiting a little longer, Ullar let's the woman go and starts speaking to her.
"So your name is Antonia, and you are a magick user. A magick user who vows on her honor that she will not fight me. Sorry to say that, but I've heard that one before," Ullar says, with an exhausted grin. His tall body is showing exhaustion as well, while his black hair is wildered and sticks to the sweat on his head. However, his bright blue eyes are focused on the other group.
"So, we have here a fellow called Manus? Who has been struck by an arrow of my friend Rhune. I apologize for that, but I think you can see why we had to be so defensive. We're clearly outnumbered and seemingly rushing from one battle to another."
"And the woman who fell by the dagger of Dakath is called Celeste? I apologize once more, however I think Dakath can surely state why he thought it was necessary to attack her."
"The last man I can address to is you," says Ullar, while pointing to the half-elf. "Your name is Plebius? Seems to me that you're from Rome then."
The olive-skinned half-elf responds, "Yes, my name is Plebius, but I am not from Rome, but Greece."
"Then I apologize. It sounded like a true Roman name to me, but I was mistaken," Ullar replies, trying to be as polite as a warrior can be.
"I think we need to introduce ourselves as well. Standing next to me is Asif, my good friend from the far east, swift as his arrows. Next to Asif is Rhune, my elven friend whose eyes are as good as a hawk, as, Manus was it?, knows."
Asif looks up at mention of his name and looks upon the strangers with hawk like intensity. His eyes suspicious barely hiding his feeling of betrayal. In response to his introduction he makes a slight nod of his head, his typical greeting in the hand gesture of hand to forehead and heart noticeably absent.
Rhune looks puzzled at Asif's expression wondering why he would look like that.
"Then we have Dakath, who was caught in your spell. Dakath takes care of our negotiations with merchants. And of course here is Amibar, my gnomish friend who saved my life with his spells already two times."
Ami, who was eyeing the newcomers with trepidation, blushes at the large warrior's words, suddenly finding a small patch of earth at his feet extremely interesting. He mumbles something unintelligible, absently stroking his ferret.
"As you can see, there are three more companions with us. Forte, who is desperate looking for armor and doesn't have that much luck. Taglio, who can brighten our hearts with his enthusiastic songs and Kyo, a foreign warrior, who is very quiet."
"But who are you?" inquires Ullar, pointing at the olive skinned person, the greasy looking person who acts suspicious and the elf with the staff.
The greasy fellow nods to Ullar and replies, "I am Ratlin Moroccu."
Ullar returns the introduction with a brief nod, his blue eyes taken up the greasy fellow with some sort of curiosity; probably wondering about his origins.
"If you have the capabilities, you could show your good intentions by aiding my wounded friends. It seems to me that you," says Ullar, while pointing at the elf with the large heavy cloak, "are capable of treating wounds. We'll be in your debt if you can help us out here."
The hooded elf looks around at his companions, then leaves Manus' (the red-haired fellow) side to step closer to you, no closer than 5 meters. He whispers something to those nearby, then turns to address Ullar. "As you have released our friend, I'm going to be quite blunt."
He pauses, as if opening up is difficult. "We are journeying together, because, in one form or another, we are all being persecuted by the church. From what we can figure out, there is a resistance group somewhere, that has information that might be useful to us. We have been trying to come in contact with them, and were just on our way to the Lake of Lost Dreams, I believe is the place, where we could gain insight as to where to meet these honorable warriors."
Stopping for a moment so this has a chance to sink in, then, upon finding the right words to continue, he does so. "We saw your group at a distance, and decided to send several of our group to investigate. As for what happened after that, I would be ecstatic if someone would fill me in."
The greasy-looking fellow smirks at this explanation. He looks at all of the newcomers in front of him, letting his gaze linger upon Rhune's beauty before relaxing ever so slightly.
Noticing that the little fellow is gazing at her, Rhune steps just a little closer to Asif as she watches him a little.
Looking at the group, you can see that several of them are spell-casters, and all are quite fresh. You doubt that in conflict you would be victors. They seem a bit edgy, as if the cloaked elf is not telling you the complete truth.
Ullar starts smiling, a smile growing bigger and bigger. "It seems that you don't have to look any longer, for I think we are the group you are looking for. We are being persecuted by the church as well and barely escaped the grip of the Bishop of Florence. The reason for us being persecuted is quite simple, we were at a forbidden meeting. I'm curious what you did to get the Church after you."
Rhune also starts to smile as well and is about to speak when Ullar does so she waits for a few minutes.
"But come, let's create a camp and discuss what has happened in a more friendly environment." Ullar puts his dagger away, and offers his hand to shake Manus' one in a greeting.
"Perhaps some of you could even attend to the wounds of our friends, now that you have found us?"
"Yes that would be us at least I think it would be us...Though noble fighters?" She chuckles a bit at the description.. "But what else is there?" she asks noting the edginess of the others.
"Could someone tell me who came up with our names? I'm curious who is referring to us as a group of noble warriors," Ullar asks
"What are your intentions? We are currently trying to rescue a guy named Stephen from the hands of the Goblin Tribes wandering around here, as he is their prisoner. After that, well, ehm…we were searching for some powerful magick-users I guess."
"I'm curious after the background of all of you. If you feel to it, I'd like to hear more about it."
Looking from one to the other, Rhune speaks, "We could set up a camp. And if you could help our friends that would be great...In looking for Stephan we have encountered one battle after another...we are a little weary and just a bit wary," she replies putting her bow away.
"I am Tolik." says the elf. His cloak slips down his arm to cover his hand, leaving only his head uncovered. Annoyed, he pushes it back, then continues. "I am hardly a healer, but battlefield experience has taught basic dressings and such. I'll see what I can do, although Plebius is much more skilled." Tolik goes from person to person, checking each to see if he can be of any help.
"Thank you" says Ullar in responds. "Personally I lack those skills, it seems my hands are, well, ehm.." the ex-gladiator starts to look at the ground, frowning a little in embarrassment, ".. they are just to large to fit such a job!" he finally adds.
Tolik moves to Kyo and Forte first, shaking his head at Kyo's condition, but amazingly managing to bring Forte about. Still suffering from the dozens of small wounds he received, the big fella still cannot use his right arm, and is in terrible shape, but has regained some measure of awareness.
His head bobbing unsteadily, his eyes focusing and un-focusing on everything around him, Forte can only (try to) stare at the stranger and mumble his thanks. "Thanks, uh, "he shakes his head slowly as if moving it too quickly might send it flying off his head, while he tries to remember the elf's name. Is this Rhune who revived him? She has pointy ears. But she looks different. Maybe it's some other tree-hugger. The large warrior closes his eyes, trying to enjoy to fog that is clouding his brain and trying to forget the constant undercurrent of pain coursing through his enfeebled body.
Finishing with the care of the elf woman's wounds, the olive-skinned half-elf stands and picks his staff up off the ground, "I will treat any who desire healing."
"Thank you very much...We are grateful." Rhune replies to the man sighing with relief that someone was able to help her friends.
He makes his way over to the group, offering to treat any who desire it. Heading towards those slung over their horses, he first comes upon Taglio. Using whatever talents he possesses, he manages to rouse him into semi-consciousness, though he does not seem to have any effect on the horrible injury inflicted upon him by the Big Chief's big sword. Taglio is only semi-conscious and still in a great deal of pain
As his grievous wound is tended Taglio regains enough of his tongue to thank sincerely the skillful healer. "Thank you Pietro?" he pauses unsure of the strangers correct name." Oh! that stings, but I am truly grateful" Taglio groans as the herbs used clear some of the fog from his eyes.
"Oh! Mio amico! I thought I was in purgatory, but I had not accomplished what I was on this earth to do. St. Peter and the Devil were arguing over which way I was to go. Then St. Peter turned to me and said 'you must go back to earth Taglio. Your task is not yet finished. There is a stain on my church, a string ringing a discordant note. You must hold faith Taglio and bring god's music back to the followers of Jerboha.' Then I dreamt that I must return to Florence.
Mio amico, I have never met this evil Bishop of which you speak, but I thought my chance must lie with you, for I too have been wronged by the church. I am but a poor gondolier and a traveling troubadour, but the church is destroying the one thing I am passionate about in this life. Now that my family has gone, the church is destroying the great works of Dante. He through only which I have seen heaven. I now I must return and try to save those precious works." He pauses as another pain finds him. Then the weight of exhaustion hits him and he lies quiet, his voice silenced by mortal suffering. "The lake..." he whispers, "I would go to the lake. Those clear and holy waters can bring me back to myself"
Manus looks at the other party for a second then turns and walks the few paces back to regain his sparth axe which he drags underhand behind him in a very unthreatening manner as he walks to rejoin the others..."I am Manus MacTadgh of Tyrconell." He looks down and pokes the stump of the arrow sticking from is chest with a bloodied forefinger and says..."Such are the actions of battle...what disturbs me more than this shaft of wood staring out of my chest is the fact that you people know my name...how is that so?"
Ratlin (the greasy fellow) snorts, "You didn't hear Arkady call out your name a few moments ago? " He shakes his head and goes back to watching the others, particularly Rhune.
Rhune slips even closer to Asif just a bit uncomfortable under the close gaze of Ratlin...a slow crimson blush rises in her face as she starts to look everywhere but at the little fellow.
"Ah...excuse me little francach...it must be this arrow sticking out of my chest clouding my thinking...perhaps next time the arrow will be sticking from your bony little chest eh?" Manus responds to his little companion.
"Not if I can help it, " Ratlin quips.
Ullar eyes this discussion with a big frown on his face. He tries to get eye-contact with Asif and Dakath, figuring out if they sensed this tensed relationship between the two strangers as well. The right side of his lip moves up and his eyes widen; clearly showing to Asif and Dakath what he thinks about this, but quickly Ullar turns to face the rest of the newcomers friendly.
A young turbaned man with dark completion sheaths a wicked looking curved dagger and moves closer to Rhune. His body language threatening. Unarmored but with the obvious gait of a warrior he glares at Ratlin, then whispers to Rhune before turning his back upon him thereby revealing a set of twin scimitars upon his back.
*In Arabic Asif says: "Fear not my love, It is written that he who covets the wife of another shall die in the flame of Aten's wrath. None shall stand between us"
The blades are ornately made and shimmer strangely in the sunlight. A faint reddish aura dances upon the Arab's back as his right arm protectively goes around the elvish woman's shoulders as take a few steps back in the direction of their injured companions..
Rhune looks up at her lover, "Wife?" she asks in Arabic in a small voice..."Asif...we...haven't been married...You want to marry me?" asking in a voice that nearly breaks with excitement at his words.
Asif looks into Rhune's eyes and smiles. In Arabic he whispers. "The answer to that lies within your heart"
Ullar starts to smile once again, this time from ear to ear. The excitement Rhune is expressing in her words are not difficult to comprehend. A big wink to Asif is his response to the Arab, vaguely getting his words, since he doesn't speak Arabic at all
Her deep amethyst colored eyes sparkling like twin jewels, Rhune smiles. A smile that goes to the soul, "of course I will be your wife, Asif." she fairly gushes with excitement as she hugs him...then a frown crosses her face, "ah...Asif...um...ah...I forgot what your last name is." she blushes as she whispers it to him.
"Worry not my love, for shame and dishonor done to father and family do I rarely speak of my full name. But once with great honor in court of sultan was I known as Faris Asif al Mansour. In tongue of Italy it means son of Mansour. If son we have one day he shall be known as Karim al Asif, Karim son of Asif. It given in honor to memory of much favored brother."
"Rhune al Mansour...Hmmm...it has a certain ring to it...and Karim al Asif. I like it Asif, but what if we have a daughter?" she looks up at him and grins.."So when do you want to get married? We have a cleric or rather a druid. He could probably marry us...though I would like to have something a little better to wear." she utters smiling at him as she looks down at her torn leathers and dusty outfit
Then turning to Ullar, "I'm getting married!!!!!!!" Rhune exclaims, as she hugs him.
The big fellow laughs at her excitement and returns the hug, flinging (spelling!) her around. "Fantastic, Rhune! Let me be the first to congratulate you with this joyful event!"
Ullar gives Rhune a big kiss on her cheek and puts her down again, walking over to Asif. He takes the hand of his Arab friend and shakes it firmly. "May Aten shine his light on the path of the both of you. I wish you two all the best. Congratulations, my friend."
Blushing profusely as Ullar spins her around and hugging her, "thank you Ullar." Rhune gasps as he puts her down
"Many thanks efendi for such words. You bless our future much with such kind words. Pray I that we can find Stephen soon so that Rhune and I can speak our vows before Aten and the gods of elven kind. Such a time I look forward too"
Dakath frowns slightly as he overhears Rhune's outburst "The heat of battle certainly does strange things to people." he shakes his head before moving toward the newcomers "Hello, my name is Dakath, it would seem there has been a little misunderstanding here."
The group hears a familiar-sounding voice ring out from the rear of the group of strangers. "Ullar! You've found some armor, and new companions. I wish I had recognized you, we could have avoided some of this . . .unpleasantness. Where are the others - Augustus and Xania?" As he speaks, he surveys everyone. Remarkably, it is Rhees, the outland druid who joined you briefly at the direction of the centaur. It seems like a long time ago, but the small fellow is a friendly sight to see.
"Rhees, I am glad to see you again...We had thought you had left for good. Seems you have found some other friends. You have come at the most opportune time." Rhune calls out in an excited voice.
Hearing for the first time the voice of a past companion Asif stops and turns. For the first time since the altercation of cold steel Asif's grim demeanor drops and a smile crosses his lips. With some warmth he shouts a greeting to the druid.
"By Aten efendi, It is with thanks that I see you still fit and well. As I have always said the will of the gods will not be denied. Despite all our efforts we again find ourselves upon the same path of fate. May our road together be longer this time efendi.".
Smiling at her lover, "Yes it is very good to have found Rhees again..." she replies her hand going to Asif's waist.
Ullar eyes the Druid with some suspicion. "Is that really you, Rhees?"
Then, finally recognizing the warrior, Ullar starts to smile. "It's a strange and a small world indeed. It seems like months since we first met at the Centaurs. If I remember correctly you healed Forte and Taglio at that time as well. This is really great!"
"Rhees Ap'Mordin, Celtic-healer by profession" Ullar adds, with a grin. His body relaxes, the tension of the last couple of minutes and the exhausting battles finally finds some place else and leaves his body.
"Is this the same group as the one you were traveling with before? The group which was attacked by the most strange creatures you've ever seen? Or are these 'new' friends" Ullar asks, with some emphasis on 'new'.
After the first excitement, the memory of the bickering between Xania, Rhees and Ullar comes up in the warriors mind. Trying not to think of it, Ullar can't resist but ask something about it: "Ehm.. Rhees. Why did you leave us so quietly the last time? Even Augustus couldn't say anything about it. I'm quite curious about it."
The tension on Rhees' face fades quickly as he turns to looks at each of the speakers. The smile that lights up his face is one that no one here has seen on him before - it is calm, peaceful and joyful (for those who notice these things, you realize that he is actually quite handsome when he doesn't look stressed out and haggard). "It is good to see you, though I wish I could add looking well. These people, "Rhees points out the strangers with a sweep of his arm, "are new companions. After that last argument with Xania and Rhune and the whole disagreement over what happened in that tomb, I felt I didn't belong in your group. Truth be told, I feared Xania would kill me in my sleep, or kill us all trying to prove she was right about something. I see she isn't around, if she has died, I apologize for speaking ill of the dead." Rhees makes a small gesture with his left hand, as though to ward of evil. "Please understand, I bear none of you ill-will, but we seemed to walk different paths and the hostilities between Xania and I showed no signs of abating. She had traveled with you longer than I - it seemed unreasonable to expect her to go or change for me. By the way, I apologize for not leaving a camp ready for you as I said I would - the decision to leave at that point was quite sudden."
"As far as these new...companions, they seem to share our feelings towards the Bishop of Florence. Twice now the path I trod has brought those who would oppose the Bishop in my company - it seems foolish to resist. Tomorrow, I will travel to the Lake of Dreams - its visions may help me find the path I must follow. Who knows, perhaps it will cross with yours once again and we can meet as friends. Until tomorrow, let us share supper and music. I have no talent for cookery, but I do carry some salt and spice that someone could use." Rhees reaches into his pack and heads towards where others are preparing a cook fire.