Is incarceration fun? Depends. [OPEN]

[ARWEN REDFERN]

JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD
{ she took the midnight train goin' anywhere }

Murtagh gritted his teeth together. Dammit, he swore in his mind. His dark eyes glared darkly at the red haired man infront of him. He looked like a fool infront of his friend fellow rider. He needed to be in charge. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let Capio take the glory this time. He was going to be the one who got the information out of the red haired bastard. His eyes slightly widened on account when the man mentioned Arwen. The girl was silent and had her mouth open just slightly before closing it. She crossed her arms and rose a brow at the red haired man. Clearly, she was not impressed. With a smirk, she looked up at Murtagh and let out a low chuckle.

Idiot. Was all she said. Murtagh was proud to have Arwen by his side for she was not a normal girl. She was not frightened easily, which was something he did like in her. No, Arwen was not his woman. Arwen was his best friend. Thorn’s best friend. His…sister? He didn’t know how to describe the feeling. Anyways, what mattered most was that Arwen was safe with him. He wasn’t about to let some…red haired beast get her. She hadn’t even moved an inch away from the cage and she was still looking at the man with a calm expression on her face. Then it turned to slightly disgust. She was wrinkling her nose. Murtagh knew that look. She was starting to dislike the prisoner and she might just kill him without any other questions. He murmured to her,

Don’t do anything rash, got it? You’ll be a hell of a lot of pain if you do. Not from me, by the way.

[/b] Arwen gave a small nod silently before looking back at the prisoner and then towards the other rider. Murtagh combed his dark locks back and gave a small sigh before he gave the prisoner a cold look. You are foolish to make threats towards me and my comrades. [/b] Without another word, Murtagh used his mind to create a painful experience for the man. It was more like a brain shockwave that would have him on the ground crying in pain. He had learnt that from the king, obviously for the king had used it on him so many times. He hadn’t found a good comeback for that yet, but he was still learning more of the dark magic. Even Arwen was learning dark magic from the king.

He heard the roar of the dragon and wondered if that was Thorn. He highly doubted it, for he would feel him. He looked over towards Capio who was now silent. It was his dragon, Anira. That dragon was feisty and of course, younger than Thorn. He was about to open his mouth to say something but Capio cut him off with a lot of words about murder and cattle theft? Murtagh blinked for a moment before raising a brow. Capio must of used the his power to creep into the other man’s mind. He wasn’t hoping to use that, for Murtagh believed that using that was a little bit over the top. Sure, he knew that Capio was probably impatient, but he didn’t think he would go looking into that pea brain’s mind so fast.

He gave a curt nod to what the other man was saying. He was feeling very angry at the fact that the other rider was able to extract the information out of the man before he did. Hell, the other rider was able to even threaten him before he did. It was a disgrace, Murtagh had thought. Arwen was still silently staring at the man with the look of annoyance displayed on her face. The man had suddenly decided to jump into the jail bars, shaking it and roaring loudly. Arwen seemed slightly surprised and took a small step back. She looked up at Murtagh to see what his expression was. It was emotionless. As usual. Frowning, she looked from the other rider to her friend and then to the raging red haired man. Alright, so things were getting slightly out of hand. Arwen was not ready to leave yet. That would be as if she was too much of a coward. She just crossed her arms again and silently watched as the man continued to throw himself against the cell door.

He looks like a fool like that. Losing control like that is a sign of weakness right there. The girl commented with a look of utmost boredom on her face. Murtagh didn’t say anything to her comment. Instead, he looked over towards Capio. So, do you plan to kill him or would you prefer me killing him? He has committed a high crime… He trailed off his dark eyes looking at the other rider with a raised brow. He ignored the yells of the beast like man. He remained calm as Capio’s hands began to move towards his swords. Looked as if the man was ready to kill the other man afterall. That just slightly annoyed Murtagh as he watched the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

Capio. Steady…[/b] He warned his fellow rider, for he was beginning to suspect that the other rider was beginning to feel too tense. He was in his defense position, Murtagh could see that much. Arwen was already behind Murtagh, as if she was using him as a small shield. She only have her dagger with her, and felt quite naked without her dual blades and her shield. The two nearly jumped at the sound of someone yelling, “What in blue blazes do you think you’re doing you lanky dull-headed moron?!?”

Arwen now looked at the man who said it. Her face paled for a moment before she quietly walked beside Murtagh. It was that guy from before! She knew him! She shivered from the memory on when he had been yelling at her because of some sort of stupid accident she had caused. She had lost her cool that day and yelled right back. Not very lady-like, she knew. Pravus. That was his name. Murtagh, of course, already knew him and disliked him quite a lot. The brother of Capio was very…aggressive and rude. He had no respect for riders, thus Murtagh had no respect for the large man. Of course, that was before the man literally pushed his way into the cell and let the other red haired man beat him. Arwen stared in disbelif before looking towards Capio who looked…well, unwell. She rushed towards him, unable to control herself. Murtagh looked around for her and saw that his fellow rider had collapsed down on the ground. Arwen was already asking him, Hey! Are you alright? Capio? Her hair covered her ears, thank god. She didn’t want a repeat of what happened before. Her wide blue eyes looked at him with a worried expression displayed on her face. Her hand was on his shoulder and she looked as if she was ready to help him out in anything.

Murtagh, on the other hand was now looking at the Convel and the older brother of Capio. Pravus. Confusion was clouding his thoughts. Where was Thorn? Murtagh tried calling him out, but his dragon wouldn’t answer. With a frown, he watched the pair wrestle each other out in silence. The red haired man shouted something out and Murtagh let out a small chuckle. It was pathetic how he was trying to fight like that. Like a wild beast. That's what he was. Murtagh reached for his sword. It was about time something like this ended.


[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
DON'T STOP BELIEVING HOLD ON TO THAT FEELING
{ streetlights people don't stop believing }
TAGGEDPhrost, Talon, and ope
WORDS dunno
TEMPLATE PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES o.o...
[/center][

[Talon]

This Alban was strong, and there seemed to be a strange red light of rage in the man’s eyes as he struck again and again. Pravus remained steady, planting his feet and not giving an inch. After the punch to the jaw he felt his eyes water for a second and tasted blood, but he remained alert. The tricky man was making a break to the side, trying to get around him. Now Pravus had not been striking back during this time, fearing it would only fuel the berserker rage, but as Convel tried to slip under his arm he delivered a swift knee to the man’s stomach. Thankfully it sent the man back to the wall and the Alban finally stopped fighting. Pravus sighed in quick relief; he had been worried that this man would beat himself into a bloody pulp. It was strange, the man’s glare looked at him, but somehow it did not look directly at him. Pravus felt like an object in those eyes, an obstacle in Convel’s way. It was slightly disconcerting.

Then Convel spoke, his voice was ragged, sounded nearly feral. Pravus had to make sure it was a man speaking when he heard it, perhaps Thorn was fooling around with his head…but no it was Convel and he had his eyes set on Capio. Now Pravus did agree with Convel to a certain degree, his brother did hide behind magic, but he had also seen Capio’s bravery. Pravus had seen it with his own eyes when Capio had stood alone with Anira and taken on a great Varden warrior. Anira had destroyed a regiment of soldiers on her own while Capio used only his blades to strike down the bright warrior. Pravus knew his brother had honor and had not dishonored the Corripio way. Even if he was furious at his younger brother for getting into magic, Pravus did not think Capio a coward. Even if he did…no one else was allowed to say anything ill of his little brother. He wouldn’t bash this guy’s head in for the offense. It was easy to see why Convel believed Capio a coward.

“I highly doubt you could kill my little brother MacTire.”

[/color] somehow Pravus’ pronunciation of the name was perfect as he began with small sentences, trying to explain his offer to the riders and this Convel at one time. “Believe me, I’ve tried. There is no cowardice in Corripio blood, but that is not the matter right now. I have an offer for you Convel MacTire. Unlike my somewhat foolish little brother I don’t condemn a man for fighting against the enemy…would you like a different option besides death, imprisonment, and shame?”[/color] The large man kept his arms down, loose and ready to catch any punches. He was hoping Convel would let his rage go and speak with him. Pravus knew this was a long shot and Murtagh or Capio could end his plan at any time, but he was going to try anyways.

The captain didn’t want this Alban to be wasted. It was obvious that Convel would be excellent on the battlefield. This berserker could be an asset, even as an ally. Pravus frowned down on the Ancient Language and swearing in it altogether, but if that was what they needed for Convel then so be it. The captain wanted to work with Convel, learn some of his techniques. Pravus also wanted his men to learn from Convel, after all, they had been the ones foolish enough to lose to him on several occasions. They had to understand the enemy if they were going to fight it next time. Pravus hated to say it, but he figured that Arwen was his greatest ally in his way of thinking right now. Making this MacTire an asset, not an enemy.

-----------------

Capio remained on the ground for several long seconds, holding on to his head and hoping that the dizziness would not return. The journey back had been more taxing than he previously thought. Not that it was the longest of flights, but after months of fighting…the rush back had simply gone to Anira’s head. She was exhausted even now he could hear her labored breathing in his mind. Capio worried for her and suddenly snapped his head up, and there was Arwen looking at him. Had she just asked if he was alright? Slowly the rider shook his head yes. He was fine now; the nausea and dizziness had left as soon as Anira had landed. However it wasn’t feeling ill that stressed him right now, he was worried about his dragon, wanted nothing more than to rush up the stairs and check up on her.

Everything is fine Capio, I simply overstrained myself. The world has stopped spinning. Would you stop worrying so I can sleep?[/color]

Capio could not stop his mind from racing. Perhaps he was overtired or exhausted as well. Either way this situation was no longer one for him. Forget the small task he had to take care of. His dragon needed him right now. Anira was more important than taking care of this Convel MacTire. Capio trusted his brother to take care of things. Pravus was smart, knew what he was doing. Nothing you say is going to stop me from being by your side in a few minutes.[/color] He informed Anira, perhaps she didn’t understand right now, but nothing like that had happened to them before.

Carefully Capio stood up, using the wall to help gain his balance and right himself in the world that had been spinning before. Once again he looked at Arwen and he conjured a crooked smile. “I’m fine, but Pravus might need some caring for when he’s through. I have to go…something urgent as come to my attention”[/color] The rider then turned a quick eye to Murtagh and voiced mentally, Something is up with Anira, I have to check on her.[/color] If anyone would understand the importance of the situation it would be a fellow rider. Murtagh understood the bond between a dragon and rider. He would know that Capio needed to leave right now. With regret Capio did not say anything to Pravus; he simply couldn’t mouth the words. He knew his brother would be mad at him for his abandonment, but he would have to understand. Even as Capio left the room he could feel the glare of his older brother digging into his back. [/size][/blockquote]

[phrostphyre]

Words penetrated the dim recesses of Convel's brain, those that could think like a man, not a cornered, hurt, angry animal. They were words of something other than the dishonor of dieing like a trapped animal. This man was offering Convel a way out of dieing! Was it a trap? Undoubtedly, but Convel would take the chance. He relaxed out of his boxing stance, but still remained poised to defend or attack at any moment.

"Do ye ken how much I would love an option other than those? Ever since I have arrived on this Dhia-Forsaken land, I've had to lie, steal, cheat, and kill to survive. I have been shot at, speared, stabbed, cut, and spit upon for sounding like a Sassenach. Do you know what it is to be separated from clan, family, hearth, and homeland? I have died a little bit more everyday I command smugglers that owe no allegiance to me other than that of the man that pays them. If ye told me that there was a way to command men who would listen to me and not question my orders on the other side of the wall behind ye, I would destroy it with bare fists. I have given up hope of seeing Alba ever again. But for the joy of feeling a mountain under my feet, I would fight a thousand dragons. That is what home, hearth, family, and clan are to an Alban. If ye can give me a home and hearth and let me build a sept of Clan MacTire here, I would be your man for as long as there is drop of fight left in me." Convel's voice grew stronger with use, and at the end of his speech, he dropped to one knee and spoke once more, his head bowed.

"If ye can give me those things, then bring me my dirk, and I shall give my Oath to ye as my laird."

[ARWEN REDFERN]

JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD
{ she took the midnight train goin' anywhere }

The dark haired boy observed the two struggling. He was already thinking about what the other man, Pravus, was planning to do. The prisoner, strong he knew, was putting up a fight and he knew that Pravus was obviously going to win. He was crossing his arm, his brows furrowed while thinking deeply. Arwen had Capio in hand, so he would live. Murtagh had heard Capioís voice in his head and turned towards him. Giving the other rider a quick nod of his head, he told him. Go. Weíll take care of things.

[/b] Murtagh turned back to the prisoner and Pravus. Meanwhile, while Caipo got up unsteadily, Arwen looked at him with the worried sea blue eyes. Be careful when you walk up the stairs, okay? She hesitated before giving him a warm smile. She watched him disappear upstairs and gave a sigh. Walking back towards Murtagh, she stood at his side looking at Pravus and the Convel.

He is strong. I told you it would be better if we were nicer to him. You and Capio just didn't listen... Arwen smirked while looking coolly at the prisoner and Pravus. Murtagh glared at her before grumbling, Pravus has things under control. If he needs a magic user, we’re here.[/b] Arwen looked up and gave a cruel looking smile. Murtagh shuddered inwardly, thinking of all of the things that Arwen would probably do to the prisoner. Not just horrible things, but she would probably be friends with him first before killing him. The girl had changed ever since she had started training with Randal. She had gotten much more ruthless and she had learned how to play with other people’s emotions. The only friend she really had was him. He knew that. Well, at least he thought so. Recently, she had become friend with a fellow rider, Lady Nayeli. Of all of the people he would of listed, he never thought that she would become friends with her. He snapped out of his thoughts when Arwen nudged him again and whispered in an excited tone,

He’s gonna swear! To Pravus! Hurry and get his things over! Murtagh snapped his fingers and spoke sharply to the guards. They nodded and bowed. Stumbling to find their feet, they went to retrieve the man’s things. Murtagh folded his arms with a look of annoyance displayed on his face. He should be happy, yet he found that a man that was willing to betray the Varden just because he was going to die was stupid. He was about to take an oath. With his own free will. Pathetic. Really, pathetic. Murtagh’s eyes looked at Arwen who was walking slowly towards the cell with a bright smile on her face.

You’re making a really good choice. You know, I hope we can be friends one day! Since you’re gonna be on our side now, why not? She cheerfully said. Murtagh gave a sigh and pulled her back gently. Arwen blinked and looked up at Murtagh who just began, Just…[/b] He stopped. Thinking things over again, he then gave a tiny smile towards Arwen before he started over again, You know what? Nevermind. You’ve got the right idea…[/b] Arwen beamed up at Murtagh and gave a small giggle. Finally. Something that she was right about! It was about time!



[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
DON'T STOP BELIEVING HOLD ON TO THAT FEELING
{ streetlights people don't stop believing }
TAGGEDPhrost, Talon, and ope
WORDS dunno
TEMPLATE PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES o.o...
[/center]

[Talon]

Pravus saw his brother leave out of the corner of his eye, and in the deep pit of his stomach he felt betrayal. Sure he hadn’t walked into the dungeon with a smile on his face to greet Capio with, but he hadn’t been hostile. Well, he hadn’t been too hostile. Pravus had been himself and his younger brother should know well enough that it wasn’t anything personal. Had he been too forceful with the helmet and keys? Perhaps offended Capio? Ah but what the heck was he thinking! Pravus never worried about offending any living soul. If people didn’t like him they could simply get over it, he would do things his way. The only ones Pravus had ever looked to for any sign of acknowledgement or respect was his parents, and naturally Galbatorix. A good word from the king and the captain knew he had done well; he was also pleased when his liege was happy with his work. However, even a slight compliment from his father was worth more than any other knights’ greatest praise. Even a word from Galbatorix ranked lower than a simple nod from Malus Corripio. Of course, Pravus had always wanted the respect of his mother, but that was always a given. She was a gentle and loving mother, despite the harsh way he had been raised Pravus knew he could depend on Lauranna for encouragement. But Capio was just his little brother. A tall, but skinny little thing. Worse yet his brother depended on a lizard now!

Pravus just didn’t understand, he had worked his entire life to see his father smile at him and see the pride in that man’s eyes. Capio was given that freely now whenever he visited the estate. Simply because he was a favorite of Galbatorix, nay a favorite of every loyal being in the Empire. All of that because a blue lizard had hatched for him and given him special magic powers. Pravus hated his brother for that! Before everything had been going so well, they might have been rivals, but it was all in good spirit. They had made an excellent team, but now, Capio had already reached the top of the Imperial army. Pravus was close but he could never gain the prestige that a rider held…he hated Capio for it…and he loathed himself for that hatred. He did not work for prestige and fame. No, he was a warrior and war ran true in his blood. He was not jealous of his younger brother; he wanted nothing to do with magic or flying lizards. Neither suited his style and he abhorred any politics that might come along with it. If he wasn’t jealous of his brother, and if he hated him for what he had done… why did it matter to Pravus when his icy eyed brother walked out of the room with no better excuse then ‘something urgent to attend to’. The knight felt that the matter needed more looking into, but at the moment he had a job to take care of. When it seemed he might be able to solve in half the time it was taking those damn riders. Lot of good their fire-breathing lizards did them here. Now was not the time for such thoughts, he had a real warrior to deal with. A strange Alban from some distant land.

To his eyes this man was done fighting now that he was hearing some sensible words. Pravus felt like he could understand this Convel better than Murtagh or Capio. Those two might beat him in a sparring match, but they didn’t have the blood and rage he felt he might share with this MacTire. He listened carefully to the red-hair’s words, not letting one peace slip past him. Should he hear something he did not care for it could mean the end of any deal, though Convel would be in the dark to this fact. Pravus was looking for a certain kind of man, and if his guess was right, this giant was just that man. The captain kept a wry grin from coming to his face even as his ears were tickled with delight by the words. He could feel his blood stir as the voice of a true warrior spoke out against lying, stealing and backhanded thieving ways. This was excellent to hear because now Convel was passing the unknown test. The Alban was no thief at heart if these words were true, he was a warrior forced into a horrible situation. Something Pravus himself feared at times. What would he do with the estate held by Malus?

It might seem silly and foolhardy but Pravus did indeed want to immediately put this man in charge of some of his soldiers. He wanted this warrior to teach his men what it meant to fight. Pravus still kept the grin away as Convel said he would break down the wall to find good men that would listen to commands. He could not grin because those men did exist, and beyond that wall was a pretty good guess as to where they were stationed. However, Pravus could not act out of line, could not simply recruit someone that Galbatorix suspected. This was different however because the captain had seen this man at another place. A secret meeting Pravus himself had not really meant to take part of. It was that silly meeting that was sending him on a mission soon; he still had to figure an excuse to leave Uru’baen for such a long time. The thing was, Convel MacTire had been at that meeting as well. So it felt right that Pravus keep the man from getting killed and perhaps help him out of a tight spot without swearing his will away. To the knight the Ancient Language was a dirty binding thing. When men were forced to be honest and obey you could expect them to look for loopholes where they could stab you in the back. Capio never had his soldiers swear to him in that wretched tongue. No, the captain demanded true loyalty. The kind that knights give to their lieges. Loyalty between brothers and between commanders and their men was not something that should be forced. Hopefully Murtagh would just see it as Pravus being illiterate in the Ancient Language (which he was). Besides, a vow from a warrior such as Convel was as good as any false promise in that horrid tongue. The orange-haired knight was simply shocked that Convel had offered something so quickly.

Still, Pravus did not fully trust the man, so he kept his front facing him as he backed up to the bars and had the guardsmen hand Convel’s things through the bars. The larger swords were kept away, but the dirk and a few other random items were given. Technically this would be arming a prisoner, and it was incredibly dangerous…especially for one as volatile and strong as Convel. Pravus put his trust in some other warrior code. Besides, he was fully armored (besides the helmet) and could defend himself well enough. Should things go south he had plenty of back-up. If this Convel did decide to strike well…once things were all settled down Convel would most likely be thrown into a cistern to rot there for life. Carefully the captain handed the Alban the dirk, speaking even as he did.

“Land is a thing to be earned from service. Men that listen out of loyalty are to be won through leadership. These things I cannot directly give you. I can only give you the tools by which you may achieve them. Know this…if you serve well and faithfully, if you are able to hold the allegiance of honest men, then you may find yourself establishing a Clan MacTire on your own land.”

[/color]

Pravus spoke in all honesty, using his most regal tone. It was the voice of his father Malus carrying through him. For Pravus would not always be as strong as he was this day and when it came time he would take over the estate his father ruled. The knight may despise all diplomacy and politics, but he had the beating heart of a leader and that carried through in his voice now. He knew that men will follow who they will and a true commander can be a rare thing. Convel could indeed achieve what he had asked for, but it was simply impossible to bring those things about immediately. Pravus could put the MacTire in charge of soldiers, but he would have to earn their respect. As for a home, well Convel would be welcome at the Corripio estate until he had done his service and earned his own land to rebuild this MacTire he spoke of. He did not mean to ignore Murtagh and Arwen, it was simply that his attention must be focused on Convel right now or he could risk everything he’d worked for so far.[/blockquote][/size]

[phrostphyre]

"I can understand having to work to earn lands and men. As a man of Clan MacTire, ye shall have my oath." Convel took the dirk, holding it lightly in his hands. There was no going back now. Kneeling, he held it like a cross, and spoke in Gaelic.

"Mar cheannaire Clan MacTire, Tugaim mo focal a leanúint, a leanúint, agus onóir Pravus Corripio, mar mo thighearn, agus ceannasaí. I Convel MacTire bheidh, ná mar a Pravus Corripio orduithe dom, go dtí an lá bhfaighidh mé bás. Beidh mé ag troid, bás, agus a mharú le mo ceannasaí." Convel kissed the dirk where blade met carved hilt. He sheathed the dirk with a clang, then stood and bowed to Pravus.

"What would ye have me do now, my laird? Also, tae the lassie and yon shite-face, I'm sworn tae Pravus, nae ye. If he commands me, I shall socialize with ye, but only if he commands it. Laird, may I have my weapons back?" Convel inquired of his laird. Convel was now sworn to Pravus, and if the man ordered him to attack a fortified castle by himself, now, Convel would do it, stupid as it may be.

[ARWEN REDFERN]

JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD
{ she took the midnight train goin' anywhere }

Swear in the Ancient language.

[/b] Murtagh suddenly cut in, his cold voice sliced through the warm air. His cold dark orbs stared at the red haired man with a look of loathing. Arwen looked up at Murtagh with a look of confusion on her face. What was with the whole having to swear crap? The man just finished doing an oath. With a frown at Murtagh, she told the prisoner in a light tone.

You swore in a different language, right? It’s good enough, don’t you think? She was asking him with a tiny smile. Murtagh glared at her and was on the verge of shoving her away. With a look over at Pravus, Murtagh looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for the man to agree with him. Looking at the prisoner, he glared hard at him and rose a brow at the name he had called him. He heard a small giggle from behind him. Arwen covered her mouth before trying hard not to laugh. He gritted his teeth. Count on Arwen to just make him look stupid.

He called you Shite-face. What you going to do? She whispered to him, sniffling a giggle. He glared at him and snarled at her, Shut up, Arwen. Leave if you’re going to be like this. Her blue eyes looked at him, slightly hurt. She stopped smiling and looked at the prisoner with a weak smile. She shuffled closer towards Murtagh, as the boy glared hard at the prisoner. She half whispered to the red haired man, I hope Pravus does let me talk to you more! You seem like a nice guy. she grinned at him brightly. Murtagh nudged her violently and gave her an angry glare that caused her to flinch slightly. She looked down, looking quite embarrassed. Her cheeks were tinted with pink and Arwen just looked uncomfortable. Murtagh then placed the red haired man's belonging on the ground and gave him a cold looking stare.

After you swear in ancient language, these will be given back to you.[/b] He simply said as he continued to look at the red haired man. Arwen, on the other hand, was now playing with some of her hair. She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. Her blue eyes looked at the red haired man with pain hidden in her eyes before looking away. She felt useless and Murtagh wasn't exactly happy with her again. Great. Another fight was going to begin again and she probably wasn't going to end up talking to him for a few days. Arwen heaved a sigh before looking at her dark locks with fake interest.


[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
DON'T STOP BELIEVING HOLD ON TO THAT FEELING
{ streetlights people don't stop believing }
TAGGEDPhrost, Talon, and open
WORDS dunno
TEMPLATE PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES It's crap, i know. I'll do better in the next post. =3
[/center]
[/quote]

[phrostphyre]

"I will be damned before I swear an oath tae my laird in a language I dinnae ken! Not only a language I dinnae ken, but the foul elven tongue, tae boot!" Convel started glaring at Murtagh, the coward hiding behind the skirts of a lass. He was demanding a second Oath Taking!

"If an Alban gives his oath in the Gaelic, then ye can ken that he'll do nothing tae break that oath! By stating that I'm nae tae be trusted until I swear in this 'Ancient Language', ye are impugning my honor. I demand satisfaction in a duel, sir!" Convel had just called Murtagh out, demanding a duel of honor. Usually, the first to draw blood was the winner, but in extreme cases, Albans with their dander up would fight to the death or maiming of the opponent. Convel was dangerously close to punching a wall. Cursing under his breath in Gaelic, Convel drew his dirk and made a short, shallow cut that only drew blood across his wrist.

"Now, who will mingle their blood with mine, so that we may be blood-siblings?" The flow of blood from Convel's wrist wasn't deep, but prolonged bleeding would be bad for the weakened Alban, flogging wounds still oozing blood on his back.

[Talon]

Pravus Corripio was not sure how oaths were to be taken by an Alban, but he knew that to any true warrior of any merit and oath was never something to take lightly. So he did what honor he could for Convel, and remained standing tall, keeping his eyes on the red-haired man. The setting for such an oath could not have been more off. Here stood a knight, the Alban kneeling in the dirt before him, and filth all around. Only a few steps behind Pravus was fresh vomit, in the corner was some filled waste bucket, and on the ground were stains he would rather not mention. The smell was nearly unbearable and the bars of the cell were bloodied from the Alban’s own hands. Speaking of Convel, the man was in no honorable state. His back was broken and bleeding, his body smelled of filth and his hands and chest were in a horrible state. His shirt was torn and stained red from blood and the man’s…skirt…looked a nasty shade of brown. Overall the Alban was covered nearly head to toe, in blood and dirt. Yet here he knelt in one of the most honored of stances as he held the dirk like a cross. Offering the oath to a knight before him that looked like he had been in a fight. Pravus’ armor was bloodied from Convel’s vicious strikes and his jaw was still ringing from punch it had suffered. The knight could still taste blood in his mouth, but that was the furthest thing from his mind at this moment.

For now he was taking a different path. This Convel could not yet be twenty, he could see the youth in the Alban’s eyes now. When he had heard of the red-haired giant he had imagined someone older, but no…this was a kid kneeling before him…and that added all the weight in the world. It was an honor, but this was also a monstrous responsibility. Once the oath was complete Pravus would be Convel’s ‘laird’ as he had called it. That meant he was responsible for MacTire’s actions. From the rumors and stories he’d heard of this Alban…that might be a very difficult thing to keep up with. Pravus got himself into enough trouble, he could only hope this young man would not do anything to rash. Because now, after the oath, Convel’s actions would directly reflect on Pravus and indirectly on the Corripio name. Something Pravus held very dearly. Yet this meant so much more to Convel, for now he was entrusting his life and his name into Pravus’ care. Such trust and respect stunned the knight, but he felt he was ready now. Ready to take on the responsibility of having Convel MacTire serve him.

He did not know the language. But some things transcend such barriers and as Convel spoke the words Pravus felt a perfect understanding of them. He kept his sharp red eyes on the young man, nothing but pride shining. The words of the oath came to his ears, and somehow Pravus Corripio was able to remember them, inscribe them on his mind to be recalled later should they ever be needed. Language did not matter right now. This was an oath and he would remember these words. Then the words stopped and Convel kissed the dirk. A last seal for the young man’s fate, and then he sheathed the dirk with a clang. The chains clamped shut as the oath was complete, and Pravus was kept standing there holding the key.

Convel MacTire then bowed and Pravus gave a respectful nod, had he his sword with him he would have blessed the man in his own Alagaesian way, but now was not the time and he dare not break the sacred way of an Alban oath. Something he trusted, though he was not quite sure why. Perhaps it was the kindred warrior spirit…yes…that was all the explanation he needed. Convel had been separated from his homeland; Pravus could not understand such a pain. Belonging to something more must be a relief. Well then to work. He would not let this brave young man waste away.

Pravus kept a look of calm and seriousness, a somewhat lord-like light coming to his eyes. The man was known for being cruel and unreasonable, angered at the smallest of things. But in his blood ran that of a Lord. Not the normal politician crap, but the blood of a leader of men. No need for foolish politics, just your people, your home, and them the others, the enemy that you would defend against with anything you had. Right now those outsiders just happened to be that Murtagh and Arwen. Pravus was sworn to the Empire, but he was first sworn to his estate led by his father, and he owed nothing specifically to these two. So as Convel addressed them the knight turned a shrewd eye to the rider and tiny assassin.

“You are free to speak to any Imperials. Vardeners…well we can discuss that later. I would simply hope you keep better company than lizard keepers and assassin.s”

[/color]

He would leave the man free to socialize and learn as he would. Other rules and matters would come into play soon enough, but Pravus had no desire to be overbearing. If Convel MacTire wished to befriend Murtagh and Arwen he would allow it, but he didn’t have to like it. As for the weapons, Pravus fine with it. He nodded simply in answer and went to the cell door. Then he remembered…that fool Capio had dropped the keys and his helmet…damn that brother of his. Now he would have to rely on Murtagh to kick the keys over. Remaining calm while at the cell door he was about to ask the rider to unlock the door, he did not want to look a fool in front of Convel MacTire. It would only bring shame to the young man that was hurt enough as it was. But before he could ask for the keys Murtagh had to ruin everything.

Really now? The Ancient language. What was that fool rider thinking! He was insulting the honor of his Esquire! This was absolutely horrid; Pravus could not believe the gall Murtagh had to demand this all of a sudden. Even now that fool rider was putting his grubby little woman hands all over his esquire’s things. Demanding that Convel swear in the Ancient Language was an affront to Pravus and to Convel and it would not be tolerated. If only he had those damned keys he would’ve smashed that rider’s face already. As Convel burst out Pravus could only smile on the inside, for his anger at Murtagh was all that would show on his face at the moment. He was happy that he’d been right about MacTire’s way of thinking. Foul elven language, he might get along with Convel…maybe after his jaw stopped throbbing.

Then came quite the damning words from Convel, but they were nothing Pravus disagreed with and he had given the Alban the go ahead to speak. So here it was. Murtagh had indeed down a horrid thing to Convel’s honor and as far as Pravus could see a duel would be the correct path to take. However, Pravus wasn’t sure Convel knew what that meant. For as the Alban’s liege…well…at least for an Alagaesian a lord would at times fight for the honor of those within his court. It could go either ways, an esquire fighting for a lord, or lord fighting for his own men. Pravus wouldn’t mind taking a hit at Murtagh, especially since Convel was so wounded at the moment. It was easy to see where that fight would go. However, if Murtagh did not use magic the knight believed he would have the upper hand. For one he was much older and much more experienced with Murtagh when it came to using a sword. He had been training since he could stand…and honor was on the line. His own man’s honor. So as soon as Convel had said his peace Pravus stood tall and looked directly into Murtagh’s eyes.

“The loyalty of a true fighting man is not to be forced by witchcraft. I will never have any esquire of mine swear by that foul language, I will have them take an oath out of their own free will or will not accept it at all. You have done a great dishonor to the name of Convel MacTire and the name of Corripio by even suggesting such an act. Should my esquire’s Alban honor allow for such a thing I will face you in a duel…for your cruel guards down in this cesspit have done even more injustice to my esquire. You will pay for your unkept tongue. The matter of my esquire’s loyalty is no concern of yours…no you should have only been concerned with using your magic to heal this fighting man that so willingly comes to the service of the Empire!”

Then Pravus turned swiftly away from Murtagh and noticed that Convel had drawn his dirk, and was drawing blood from his wrist. This was something not strictly Alban, and Pravus did not hesitate to take the dirk from Convel. Without a very serious look in his eye the knight removed his gauntlet and the chainmail glove beneath. Drawing back anything that remained covering his wrist he followed suit and made a small cut across his own wrist. Damn Capio at this moment for being a fool dragon rider. Damn Capio for deserting him now when he could use him. And DAMN Capio for thinking he was better off as a merciful leader. Convel was more brother then that icy eyed freak that smelled of reptile.

“And so I leave an ultimatum to you Murtagh…return MacTire’s weapons to him and apologize on bended knee for your transgression against him…or let his name be cleared of the stain by a duel.”[/color]

The blood came smoothly from his wrist, had made sure not to cut too deeply. He would need to be strong, especially if he were to fight this Murtagh fool.

((didn’t know how the whole blood thing went so I left it open))[/size][/blockquote]

[phrostphyre]

Convel MacTire was surprised. Pravus Corripio was honoring him by remaining standing as he took his oath. The fire in his eyes remained burning as bright as a volcano, undiminished by his relegation from Seventh Earl of Eilean Donan, Lord Broch Taurach, Seventh in Line for High King of Alba, to mere tacksman-ship. Convel wasn't sure if Pravus knew of his....former position, but it was highly unlikely, as only ten knew of it in Alba. The Earldom and Lordship were known throughout the island, but the High Kingship was kept quiet, and only spoken of in whispers at the darkest part of night, the Wolf's Hour.

Convel stiffened in surprise as Pravus demanded to duel the 'lizard keeper' himself. This was unexpected, and wonderful at the same time. His blue eyes widened in surprise for only a moment as Pravus took his dirk and cut himself, letting his blood flow. Convel took the other man's wrist and held it against his, letting their blood mingle. Convel spoke the words rarely spoken in Gaelic, and never in English.

"Bímis deartháireacha ghairm ag gach duine a chéile, agus is féidir linn a bheith ar an fearr cairde do gach uair. Now that we are brothers, shall we figure a way out of this damned cell?" Convel took his dirk, stepped around his blood-brother, and began fishing for the key ring with the dirk. Cursing every time he missed, he eventually started yelling in Gaelic as he missed again and again.

[ARWEN REDFERN]

JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL LIVIN' IN A LONELY WORLD
{ she took the midnight train goin' anywhere }

Arwen smiled when Pravus allowed the man to speak to her. Alright, so Pravus didn’t like the idea that she was an assassin, but who really cared? She was allowed to speak to him. She found the keys and quickly unlocked the gate without another word. Murtagh on the other hand, was grumpy. Arwen gave him a look before rolling her eyes. You should really apologize, Murtagh. He gave her a glare. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the red haired man more. Nudging him with a tug at his hand, he gave an annoyed growl. She turned towards him and faced him with a look of annoyance and unsettling expression.

Just apologize. Really. You can say it and then you really don’t have to mean it. C’mon Murtagh! Just do it, or I’ll do it for you. she warned him. He rolled his eyes and with Arwen’s help, he knelt with one knee on the ground and with an annoyed and cold tone he managed a, Forgive me for doubting you, Convel. It was wrong of me.

[/b] he was smooth and Arwen patted him on the back before beaming brightly at Convel.

See! He apologized! Do you feel better, Convel? She innocently asked while helping her friend up from the dirty floor. She added towards Murtagh, You are definitely going to be washing those pants when we get back up to our rooms. I don’t want your room to smell like this place. You’re also gonna take a shower when you get up there. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the dirty pants that he was wearing now. She also looked at his hair that probably smelled of sweat. She shuddered inwardly, on how nasty he must really smell if she was closer to him. The files. The stench down here. Her smell probably wasn’t that good either, so she reminded herself to take a bathe when they got up there. After all, they had two bathrooms now, unlike before where they had to share a bathroom. Of course, Arwen was smart enough to snap back into reality and pick up the things that were beside Murtagh and hand them to the red haired man. With a smile, she brightly said, I think this is all of your things. If not, I’ll help you get the rest back. Um, but you are kinda free now…so I guess you could also get it yourself… she added with an afterthought. Murtagh got up and refused to look at the ‘blood brothers’. Instead, he looked at Arwen with a small glare. Arwen looked at Murtagh and let out a sheepish smile before laughing nervously,

Err…So, now what? I think we’re done here, right?

He glared harder.

If you don’t need anything, Convel..um, Murtagh and I are gonna..um..go… She trailed off with Murtagh grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the stairs. She gulped, looking at Murtagh’s angry expression. She was going to get an earful later on.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]
DON'T STOP BELIEVING HOLD ON TO THAT FEELING
{ streetlights people don't stop believing }
TAGGEDPhrost, Talon, and open
WORDS dunno
TEMPLATE PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ha, arwen.
[/center]

[Talon]

The act of becoming a blood brother was strange. For a moment Pravus wondered what had so compelled him into this act. Convel was his esquire, sworn to his service, and now he became a blood brother with him? This younger than twenty, red-haired Alban? Somehow it held meaning to him, and it seemed right. Pravus couldn’t explain why, but it was the right thing to do. This act of joining blood, swearing in some foreign tongue, was strange, but it felt…natural. Especially now while his anger towards Capio was running high. Not just Capio though…all of these damn dragon riders thinking they were so high and mighty because some lizard decided to be best friends with them. Oh look at you turning into some blasted elf while the dragon gives you magic, power and prestige. Such things should not be so easily handed over. Stupid fire breathing lizards, and fool riders to go along with them. Their power came so easy to them, how could they learn the importance of depending on others? How could they understand brotherhood and loyalty? Capio had forgotten…so it seemed to Pravus. So he joined blood with Convel, for in this fiery haired warrior he found his brother again. For Capio had not always been the soft-hearted, reptile-loving freak he was today. No…back before that foul creature had hatched he had respect for his brother. Now…well just look at Murtagh. Of course Murtagh’s problem wasn’t Thorn at the moment, but a different prick in the young man’s side. A thorn of its own kind that was, strangely enough, helping Pravus.

Arwen had picked up the key and unlocked the door, as she did the knight just about ran out of the cell to bash Murtagh upside the head. Thankfully he was in control again, and he had Convel there watching, he could not act like some block headed idiot in front his new blood brother. The half-blood girl was telling Murtagh to apologize…hah! She was controlling the rider. What exactly did she have on Murtagh? This was quite a sight. Watching the young man growl while this girl tugged at him and kept telling him to apologize. And as soon as she began her eye rolling Pravus knew that Murtagh would fold. However, the man’s apology seemed hollow, and the knight was loathe to except it. This would be a matter for another time, let Arwen think she had won. If Convel still felt dishonored then Pravus would see this issue through. The knight was more worried about the lad’s condition at the moment. Just a short while before he had desperately wanted to duel Murtagh, to take off the rider’s head for dishonoring his knew esquire. This Alban had humbled himself and used his own tongue to swear a sacred oath, what’s more, he had become blood brothers with Pravus. This was no small matter. So the insult to Convel was a direct insult to Pravus, and to the Corripio’s. A simple…forgive me for doubting you…may not suffice in this situation.

It was only polite not to duel in front of ladies, if you could call Arwen that, and Pravus knew he could bring this matter to Murtagh’s attention later. For now, he would need to get a healer for Convel, as well as find the young man some lodging and food. Your soldiers, and more importantly your brothers, came first; Pravus’ own new vendetta against Murtagh could wait. While the rider kept his eyes averted from Convel and himself the soldier could barely keep himself from running up and kicking the young man. Control…remember control…Murtagh had magic…and he had Convel to take care of right now. Let the rider sulk off and feel hurt. He should be feeling those exact things. A woman had controlled him, he deserved whatever shame and anger he felt. As Arwen bounded after the quickly departing rider Pravus gave a slight nod for goodbye, and that was all.

“I’ll get at that rider later, you need a healer and some food. You need help out of here with your things?”

[/color]

After all, this young man’s back was torn to shreds, and the weapons looked like no ordinary man’s weapons. Pravus liked them, would have enjoyed using them himself had he not already developed his own style over the years of his life. However, a new worry and thought had entered his mind. How would he get Galbatorix to accept Convel? And how could he get MacTire some land for himself? It was a difficult question simply because it took a great deal of time to earn such things as land and men. Malus Corripio was aged now, and he had not held his land for very long. It took many years of service and commitment…unless one were to pull off an extremely heroic act. Pravus had to wonder if Convel were up to the challenge. Initially he had come down here to recruit the young man for his squadron. He had hoped to have the red-haired Alban help him train new recruits; show them how to be a real man. But training recruits would always bet there, and it was no fast way to gaining land for something like a clan. And the more Pravus looked at it the more he wanted to be something of an Uncle to the younger lad. He didn’t want to be seen as some Laird, Convel was different than that. The foreigner was did not have the servant look in his eye, and Pravus highly doubted his blood was that of a peasant off in Albania. No Convel could do more, and Pravus wanted more for the young man, for his blood brother. But there was no way to convince Galbatorix of Convel’s use…unless…

“Before we get you cleaned up, I have a proposition for you. I know a way you can get your land for a clan MacTire and be not so much an esquire as you would be my blood brother. It is incredibly dangerous, but I think you are up to the task. Here in the Empire we have heard rumors of new young Varden riders…now…if you were to say, dispatch or better yet capture one of them, then Galbatorix would be quick to give you loyal soldiers and a place to call your own. What say you Convel MacTire? Will you go capture a Varden Rider?”[/color][/size][/blockquote]