Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 16, 2010 15:13:45 GMT -5
Mali heard it and she looked over to the woman. A werecat. Was that what she was? She had been searching for so long to find someone like her or someone who she could trust to ask if they had met someone like her before. She couldn’t go showing her features to everyone out in the open. There hadn’t been anyone like her that she had met in her entire life. Walking around in the open would be hell. If she couldn’t find anyone like her, that meant that she was extremely special and that meant people would possibly try to harm her to get their hands on something special.
”To be honest, I don’t know what I am. I was raised by different parents; I don’t know what mine were. But a werecat, is that it?”
[/i] Mali looked over at the woman, hopeful. She wanted to know what she was, and it killed her not knowing. If her curiosity for the two persons sitting on either side of her was frustrating, then imagine how frustrating her curiosity must be, not knowing what she is. Looking over to the bartender as he came over and started some trouble, she noticed another honey ball being dropped into her hands and she smiled. The honey tasted really nice, even if it made her tongue stick to the rest of her mouth. She sucked at the honey, trying to de-stick her tongue and listened to the rest of the interactions between the people around her. This was most odd. At least the woman had started to talk. Maybe now she could curb her curiosity about her. Looking between the bartender, with his red face, and Convel, she laughed, her head falling back a bit, her hood falling off. Not noticing it right away, she looked to Convel and the drunk guards. “Thank you Convel, for the honey” she smiled, not noticing the sudden weird looks she was receiving.[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 16, 2010 17:03:15 GMT -5
"Shite lass, your hood! Put it back up, now!" Convel whispered urgently as he noticed the looks. He looked to the front door and saw it closed. I'll have to bust it down with my shoulder, scare the Hell out of the people in here to keep them quiet, and then do something. Damn it all to Hell! Mother Necessity is the mother of improvisation. I'll just have to improvise. The improvisation that came to mind entailed whiskey, fire, and his guard buddies. The mental image made him laugh. While everyone was distracted by Mali's hood less head, he tossed the whiskey out of his bottle onto the guard next to him. Taking the candle he had strategically placed near him earlier, he held the tip of the flame to the whiskey. The resulting whoosh of flame nearly blinded him.
Picking Mali up bodily, Convel kicked the door out, carried her over to the gray horse, and seated her on it.
"Ye wee idiot put your hood back up, while I head back inside tae try and calm the flame the idiot started. He's probably dead by now, but at least we'll be able to possibly save the pub." Leaning in close, he added in a whisper, "If I'm nae back in five minutes, ride outside of Teirm as fast as ye can. I'll meet up with ye when I can." Shouldering his way past the patrons fleeing the pub, he stepped back into the building.
Though the fire had only spread to another guard, the stool, and the bar, the heat coming off of it made Convel blink. Grimacing, he whirled the plaid off his shoulder and started trying to beat the flames out. Hopefully in the confusion and panic of a fire, the patrons would forget about the bean-piscín. If things went South, though, he'd have to distract other guards while the girl escaped. If he got caught, weeell... he'd just have to break out of prison. Again.
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Post by kanoinazuma17 on May 16, 2010 17:57:47 GMT -5
Andraste smiled at the girl. I'm assuming so, it's the only explanation for the ears and tail. she replied to the girl, looking up and around. Things got much more hectic as her hood fell off. Andraste avoided the flame and snuck outside, avoiding the panic and watching the girl and the horse, pulling her hood up. she did not want to be caught in the dark with her facial expressions clear.
Patrons fled as the fire inside started. As they waited, Andraste continued to speak to the girl through her mind. As for what I am, I will tell you that when we leave Tierm... But for now, we need to worry about your friend. Speaking of friends, I have a safehouse where you can stay. She added after speaking a little about herself. Andraste did not want to surprise the girl too soon.
Her head rolled back slightly as she stretched. from within her cloak, she began playing with a dagger of an odd-grain of steel. It had ripples and swirls in the grain of the steel, obviously of high quality craftsmanship. It was the work of the man she was working for: pure art in utilitarianism. Its beauty was only matched by its practical use, being about three to four inches long with a razor sharp edge that would break even bone. The blade was the hardest steel of any kind, and yet it was flexible enough to withstand impact after impact without breaking. Kano had found the secret to forging the perfect knife or sword, and the Empire wasn't going to have it.
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Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 16, 2010 18:11:37 GMT -5
Mali nodded her head. A werecat. She finally knew what she was. But it still didn’t explain why she hadn’t come across another one yet. If she was a werecat, why weren’t there more of her kind? She couldn’t be the last, it wasn’t possible. She knew that her parents were out there and she was going to find them. And if she couldn’t find them, then she was going to find another werecat! Hopefully male. At the thought she blushed, before noticing everyone’s weird behaviour. Was something wrong?
She looked over to Convel and heard his urgent hushed tone. Shit! She pulled her hood back up but it didn’t stop the stares. The other patrons continued to stare at her until the guard beside the large burly man—Convel—was lit on fire. Shouting and screaming soon filled the silence and Mali felt herself being picked up. Looking up to see Convel, she blushed. This was rather close for comfort. “O-okay,” her voice was shaky. She was anxious and nervous. “Sorry Convel.” she was also ashamed. How could she have been so careless? And now Convel had to deal with all this. It hurt that he had said that they were friends and now he has to go to all this trouble to help her.
Mali looked around, trying to find the elf woman, but she couldn’t find her in the crowd. However she could still hear her. “I know what you are. I can smell it. But I want to wait for Convel . . .”
[/i] she didn’t want to leave her friend behind. Even though Convel was confusing, scary at times, but also funny, he was one of the only friends she had ever been lucky enough to make. Living on the streets didn’t allow her to make many friends. As well as the fact that Mali had trouble trusting people. She wasn’t going to leave so easily without Convel.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 16, 2010 19:00:12 GMT -5
Convel was busy trying to beat out the fire when the man who had been watching him sidled up beside him, holding his cloak. Ignoring the features of the man, Convel asked for help. The man seemed angry about something. When Convel asked for help once more, he was answered by cold steel.
"You're going to die now, Outlander!" The blade the man directed at Convel was fairly long, longer than his dirk, but shorter than his sword. Not having time to think, Convel did the only thing he could. He threw his plaid at the man, dropped to floor and drew his dirk. Standing back up, Convel lashed out with his right hand, catching the man below the eye, on the cheekbone. As the man slashed wildly with his overlong dirk, Convel caught it on his dirk and kicked out with a foot, aiming for the groin. Catching Convel's leg, the man twisted as Convel hopped around to keep him from breaking his leg. Throwing a punch with his left hand, the one holding the dirk, he caught the man full on in the eye, causing him to let go of Convel's leg.
Screeching his war cry,"Sgurr Uaran!" Convel caught the man's stomach on the point of his dirk. Smiling in grim anticipation, Convel slashed upwards, with the dirk still in the man's gut. As the muscle gave way, Convel twisted and pushed, still moving the dirk upwards the whole time. As the man's eyes glazed over in the black oblivion that was the final sleep, Convel muttered a small prayer in his native tongue.
"Dia a chara, le do thoil maith liom an fear seo chun rónta a mharú. Cé go raibh sé i cosaint féin, rinne sé díobháil a dhéanamh liom. Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil an cur i saol atá mícheart, tá brón orm." All would have been good except that a couple of guards rushed in, looking anxious to help. Grabbing his plaid, Convel grinned cheekily at them and dashed out looking like he had Shruikan after him.
"Time tae go lassies! The pub's a total loss, I'm wanted for another murder, and now they'll ken it's me what liberated yon wee beastie! We'll be needing tae high tail tae yon highlands!" Drawing his broadsword, Convel turned to face the door to the pub, out of which the two guards emerged. Looking angry, they yelled for Mali and the cloaked woman to detain Convel. Convel turned towards them, looking scared at what he was about to do. Grabbing the bow, he drew and notched an arrow. Drawing the bow back as far as it could go, he aimed for the throat of one of the guards. Letting fly, the arrow spun in the air as it flew straight and true. As the guard stumbled back, blood bubbling out of his mouth, the other one turned towards Convel and rushed him. Dropping the bow and picking his broadsword back up, he stabbed out, catching the last guard in the chest. Uttering a small cry, he fell backwards.
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Post by kanoinazuma17 on May 16, 2010 19:16:04 GMT -5
Andraste watched the fight. She always enjoyed a good fight, but this was a bit too much. If the guards could have just left off instead of going after, they wouldn't have had to die. As the men fell down dead she let out a grunt and turned. "Blasted humans and their stupidity." She muttered to herself as the last soldier fell. "Let's go. More guards will be coming. I'll cover your trail and meet you outside the city gates." She said before standing in front of Convel. "You're nuts, but I guess that's what keeps you alive. Now get going, or you won't make it in time."
Andraste looked at the Werecat. Well, after this I guess it's goodbye for good. No knowing if we'll ever meet again. If we don't, I wish you best of luck. She said as she waited to see if there were more guards coming. Her eyes and ears were as keen as they had ever been. Her head kept turning, scanning the area. In the distance she could see guards coming. "Go!" She yelled at the two. "The guards are coming!"
Andraste headed in the direction of the five soldiers that were coming. No one was in the streets at this hour, and now she had to fight them. They slowed in front of her as she stood there, lowering her hood. They stood dumbfounded and tried wooing her. However, as they did, she kicked one in the face, breaking his nose in and killing him before roundhouse kicking the other in the face. While this unfolded, she drew her dagger and stabbed the one she round house kicked in the back of the neck and stabbing another person in the gut and chest and killing the last guard silently by slitting his throat. With that done, she cleaned her blade off on the tunic of one of the soldiers and fled as the dead soldiers began their slow decay.
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Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 16, 2010 19:26:34 GMT -5
Mali looked around earnestly. She was going to wait for Convel if it killed her. She knew what she was, she could die happy. Even though she hadn’t met another of her kind, she knew that it would be okay. Some part of her curiosity had been found and that was all that she really needed. Right now, she was going to be stubborn and place her foot down. She was not leaving without knowing that Convel was safe. Even if he could handle his share of soldiers, she had to make sure. She saw Convel leave the building and then slay the two soldiers. Mali covered her eyes, not too keen on watching a gruesome battle and people dying.
Frowning, she was a little confused. Didn’t the elf tell them to meet her outside the city? And since she did, why would she say that this was goodbye as she didn’t know if they were going to see each other again. She was an elf, she would surely beat these human soldiers! “Meet outside the city,”
[/i] she thought briefly before looking to Convel. Was he going to get on the horse or was he going to stay back and fight? “Um, I don’t know how to ride a horse . . .” She was a cat, of course she didn’t know how to ride a horse. Hopefully Convel would be coming with her. Picking up the reins briefly, she started to panic. “Convel?” This wasn’t good. And soldiers were coming! This was just great![/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 16, 2010 19:50:02 GMT -5
"I'll take care of ye, lassie. Dinnae worry your wee pretty head." Leaping onto the horse in front of Mali, Convel grabbed her arms and wrapped them around him his waist. Taking hold of the reins in his right hand and his broadsword in his left, Connor smacked the horse's rump with the flat of his blade. Laughing like a madman as the horse charged the guards, Convel slashed at one and hit, feeling the sickening crunch of steel and skull collide. Nearly having his arm jerked out of socket, Convel spurred the horse on to a greater speed. Switching sword and reins in each and whenever a guard tried to stop them, Convel had nearly made it out of Teirm when an arrow struck him in his side. Thanking his lucky stars that it hadn't gone through him into Mali, Convel kept riding.
Though the pain was awful, Convel ignored it, doing his best to make it outside the city. The gates were looming large in front of him when he was struck by a thrown spear, hitting him in the shoulder. Yelling a curse at the top of his lungs, Convel pulled it out and threw it through the unguarded neck of the guard that had thrown it, shaking his head as it buried itself in the stomach of another. More arrows zoomed by, passing dangerously close to his back. Bursting through a line of archers that were notching arrows, they went through the semi-open gates and made it out into the open countryside. Riding for a small copse of trees not to far off, but not to close, Convel pulled his shirt off, balled it up, and threw it into a stream running through the trees.
Slowing the horse, Convel slid off, wincing and grimacing as he lifted Mali off the steed. "Lass. Dinnae gasp when I show ye my back. Can ye pull the arrow out of my back?"
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Post by kanoinazuma17 on May 17, 2010 16:56:53 GMT -5
Andraste took her sweet time while trying not to be noticed by the guards as she skulked through the shadows. She kept herself low and silent, and slipped over Tierm's wall, landing behind Convel. She looked at the wound on his back, whispered a small spell to numb the pain, then pulled the arrow out of his back on her own before healing the wound effortlessly. "You really must be more careful, you'll get yourself killed like that, you blasted fool." She said with a joking tone, cleaning off the arrow and putting it into her quiver. "
She had a wound of her own, but it was minor compared to what Convel had on his back before she took care of it. "Now, it looks like we better head our separate ways..." Andraste said before turning to head east. "May our paths cross again." She added before she went to far. She was gone, for she had accomplished what she needed to do. Now it was time for her to move on.
Andraste did not loo back, pack strapped to her back and dagger at the ready should any more soldiers come after her. "Onwards to Feinster..." She muttered to herself as she watched the stars. She would continue to travel, but she wouldn't stop unless she needed to.
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Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 17, 2010 17:35:53 GMT -5
Squeaking, she hadn’t expected him to just hop onto the horse, and so close to her as well. As her hands were lifted and placed around his waist, Mali couldn’t help but blush. This was embarrassing, and rather close. All too soon the horse took off and Mali had to hold on tightly for dear life or else she wouldn’t be able to stay on the horse. Her blush deepened as she held onto Convel tighter. She could hear Convel shouting and groaning, as well as the soldiers and archers. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing it were all over and pressing herself into a small form against his back. She could hear his pain as well as smell the close proximity of his blood, and she felt bad. This was all because she had been careless and her hood fell. How was she ever going to make it up to him?
Soon enough they came to a stop and Mali reluctantly let go of Convel. She bit her lip as he lifted her from the horse. She could tell that even that caused him pain. She felt guilty and ashamed for this to have happened. Mali couldn’t help it. Even though he had told her not to, she found herself gasping and looking at the nasty wound on his back. She hesitantly reached out, not sure if she had the will power to pull it out, when the elf woman pulled it out for her and healed the spot. Mali sighed quietly and watched what she was doing. “Thank you, both of you. I’m sorry this happened.” She looked down.
As the woman walked off, Mali had to thank her again. She never knew when or if she would ever see her again. ”Thank you, for telling me what I am. But I don’t even know your name.”
[/i] She hoped it wasn’t too much to ask for. She had already done enough for Mali that if she didn’t want to give her name, Mali couldn’t complain. However, it would be nice to know her other saviour’s name.[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 20, 2010 17:58:07 GMT -5
"Give me a moment, and I'll tell ye about my homeland and my childhood." Taking his plaid, he swung it off his shoulder, letting it float to the ground. Spreading the subdued brown, red, black, tan, and green material on the ground, Convel made sort of a picnic blanket with the extra kilt material. Sitting, he patted beside him and leaned back to gaze at the sky.
"I am Convel MacTire, future chieftain, also called laird, of clan MacTire, one of the most powerful clans on Alba. I am seventeen years old. My father is Colum ban MacRae MacTire, and my mother is Mary MacLaren MacTire. I have one sister, younger than me by one year. She is Heather MacTire Murray. Her husband Ian Murray was my best friend.
"The small island of Alba doesn't have that much crop-friendly land, so Broch Taurach is a very special place, not only able to support one hundred-twenty crofters, but also a small town, the castle, and a fairly large forest, next to a loch and a moor. The entirety of clan MacTire is nearly one thousand fighting men, with their dependants, and small clans that have pledged fealty to their laird, but he's a vassal of my father. So you could say, he's a minature king. The High King of Alba called upon my father three years before my birth to overthrow the usurper to the throne. With his sucess, not only did my father refuse lands and titles, but he refused a marriage to the daughter of the High King. He loved my mother that much.
"Returning to Lallybroch, he spirited my mother away from her people. They eloped, but Hugh MacLaren was nae happy about being allied with clan MacTire. Eventually, they reconciled. Convel means 'wolf warrior', in the ould tongue and MacTire means 'Son of the countryside', in my native Gaelic. There's a reason I'm a wee son of the countryside, and I'll tell ye. It was a time, two hundred years ago, and a man was farming his patch of land. The group of crofters had had to fight off outlaws once again, so they were tired. It was a verra misty morning, so they were surprised when a man came out of the mist, from the countryside. He gave no name tae them, and carrying his dirk, sword, and everything he owned in this world, he built himself a farm and house. Well, eventually they were attacked again. So, taking up arms, he lead the men in a bold night attack, reaping death. The men gave him the name MacTire, as a sign of insult at first, but eventually, it became a sign of respect. They voted him their chief, and took his name as theirs. Time went by, and soon they had a castle built to defend them as they worked the fields, and MacTire was a clan. Our motto is 'Ex uno ad plures', meaning 'from one to many', in a tongue as old as the Gaelic. I would wander about the mountains and forest, learning them like the back of my hand."
The memories seemed to rush upon him in one fell swoop, taking him back to purple and green countryside, blue mountains, and dark forests. Convel fell silent, tears slowly sliding down his cheek.
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Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 20, 2010 18:45:46 GMT -5
Mali watched him with interest, wondering what he was doing with his funny coloured clothing. As he laid it out and patted the spot next to him, she slowly moved over, nervous, and sat beside him. She smiled wide. She was finally going to find out about him. She was eager and excited to know. She was going to figure him out, if only to the small extent that a personal history would allow. She listened as intently as her curiosity could allow her. That was some history so far.
As he continued on, she was just blown by amazement. His father sounded like a real man, someone to look up to. She figured that Convel had to look up to his father very much. However, it still threw her that he was only 17. He didn’t look that young, he looked older and a little more built to be just a 17 year old. Then again, she was 46 and only looked 20. Watching him in earnest, she wondered why he was crying. Mali pulled out a handkerchief that she had stolen a while back, handing it to him. Placing the handkerchief in his lap, she looked down. She wished that she had such a glorious history as he did.
It would be a great story to tell, other than the real one. Glancing over at him, she smiled, wanting to cheer him up. “You don’t look 17, by the way. But then again, I’m actually 46. But your history. It sounds so, magical. You’re lucky. I wish I knew that much about my family. My parents weren’t even my real parents. I don’t know what they were even.”
[/blockquote][/blockquote]
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 20, 2010 19:27:24 GMT -5
"NAE! IT WAS NAE MAGICAL! I HAD TAE WATCH WHILE MY BETROTHED WAS RAPED, THEN MURDERED! I HAD TO KILL FIVE MEN TO SAVE MY SISTER AND MOTHER FROM THE SAME FATE! NEVER TELL ME MY EARLY YEARS WERE MAGICAL!" Outburst finished, Convel leaped from the plaid, his hair standing on end, his face dark purple, and his fists balled. Striding over to a small, puny looking sapling, Convel proceeded to pummel it until his knuckles were all bruised, and the tree wasn't a tree at all. Turning to face Mali, the dark rage of a wild berserk gone, he started pacing. More tears slid down his cheeks as he paced, the sadness of having to kill at thirteen hitting him once more.
"I am wanted in separate counties of Alba for murder, theft, arson, obstruction, escape, and assault. All of them committed while in defense of my family, my lands, and my family's honor. I am a violent man, fighting to kill as fast as possible. The only thing separating me from outlaws, actual criminals, is my sense of honor and justice. Those were instilled in me by my father, and I'm the man I am standing here before you because I was MOLDED by circumstance, outside factors, and my parents. Never tell me that I had a magical childhood. I skipped that because ye are a lass, and probably a lady, but ye too, were shaped by outside factors. I am sorry about you're circumstances, but I am alive at the rip ould age of seventeen because I was canny, bold when needed, and damned angry the rest of the time!" Now Convel was crying silently, tears falling off his face as he hung his head. His torso was racked by sobs, and the ground inviting him to fall down and sleep.
"I'm sorry I yelled at ye, lass. I'll leave now. I'll take the horse, but here." Reaching into his sporran, Convel pulled out a fistful of gold. Handing it to her, he stood, like a silent sentinel, watching. Watching, always watching.
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Mali
Junior Member
A lady should never look up a man's skirt ... I mean kilt
Posts: 86
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Post by Mali on May 20, 2010 19:43:57 GMT -5
Shocked was the best word. Scared also fit well too. As soon as his outburst started, all Mali could do was stare at him in fear. His anger and aggression, it scared her. Her ears pinned back against her head as her body took on a defensive curl, to protect itself from possible danger. He had said he was a friend, he wouldn’t hurt her, would he? Mali wasn’t sure. She thought that she had understood Convel better. It turns out she was wrong. Dead wrong.
As soon as his rage on the tree was done and he turned to face her, she immediately cowered, her hands coming up to cover her head, curling into a smaller ball. She had claws, she had teeth, and she could change forms and run. However, she didn’t think that she could fight against Convel; she would be crushed by his mere size. Convel was also her friend. Even if she had said something that upset him, she couldn’t just run away. She wasn’t a coward like that.
As he finished his rant, she looked at him, fear in her eyes. He was going to leave, already? Not that she wanted him to stay and be angry, but she didn’t want him to leave yet. There was so much she didn’t know about him, her curiosity wasn’t finished with him yet. Maybe that’s where the saying comes from. Curiosity killed the cat. Looking down to his hand and the money that was in it, she stood slowly, holding her tail in her hands. Her ears were still pinned back and she was shaking slightly. Moving closer to him, she wrapped her arms around him, cautious and ready in case he reacted badly. Hugging him tightly, she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you Convel. For saving me. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t know. It sounded so wonderful, to have such a father to be proud of, one that taught you a lot. I’m really sorry.” She smiled faintly to him.
Nuzzling her head against his arm, purring a bit, her eyes closing and a content smile spreading across her face, she held onto his arm for a moment longer before letting go. “I don’t need the money Convel. But thank you for the offer. You’re my friend, and I shouldn’t have made you angry or gotten you in trouble. I hope you can forgive me”
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phrostphyre
Junior Member
I'm the Rascal King.
Posts: 120
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Post by phrostphyre on May 20, 2010 20:48:43 GMT -5
Convel was suprised. The last time he had been hugged was.... He couldn't remember. He thought it was when he had gone off on the raid that had beached him in this land, but Convel was far from sure. Shaking his head, he hugged back, squeezing just a little bit.
"It's nae your fault, lass. I was never angry at ye tae begin with. I was angry at fate, God, or whatever ye wish tae call it. Eventually, you'll hear of men called the Saighdiúirí Convel. They'll be mine. When ye hear of them burning villages, killing indiscriminately, ken that we're not actually killing and burning like that. Now, If ye ever have need, return tae this wood, and dig where I show ye. There'll be half this gold in there. Lass, if ye ever have need of me, I shall be able tae be contacted by murderous rouges and outlaws. Tell them that you're a friend of Red Convel. They'll ken it's me." Taking the plaid and tossing it over his shoulder, Convel let go of Mali and strode towards the pulverized tree. Scraping open a shallow hole in the soft dirt, Convel put all the gold in. He still had half in his sporran, and he could always hunt. Shoving the dirt back over the gold, Convel bent down, and kissed Mali on each cheek, and the forehead.
"Téigh le Dia, mo chailín piscín beag." Turning his attention to the horse, Convel tightened the saddle. Mounting, he drew his sword and slapped the horse with the flat of the blade. The horse reared, nickering loudly and making the kilt-clad clansman a terrifying sight, with a wild beard, burnished tan skin, flaming red hair, and a wicked looking blade. The horse calmed down, but started when Convel yelled once more.
"Forward for Dia and the MacTire! Sgurr Uaran!"
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