Post by siredanmacleod on Mar 9, 2008 2:26:00 GMT -6
Coming home had been a huge mistake, that was obvious now. He was a fool to think his father had changed. The man was the same stubborn bastard that he had always been; no, that wasn’t quite right…he was even worse now. Edan just wanted to get the hell out of there; Scotland held too many bad memories now. Tonight he was going to get drunk, and in the morning he was going to find a ship that would take him anywhere that wasn’t here.
To make things worse, the whole time he’d been riding from Dunvegan it had been raining. It wasn’t like it was a rare thing in Scotland, but it didn’t do anything to improve his mood. At least when he got to Turas Lan and found a tavern he could get dried off as well as drunk. He’d never been to Turas Lan before, many things had changed since the last time he’d set foot on the Isle, some for the better, some not. Hopefully Turas Lan would be one of the better changes, although he wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to really find out.
It was quite late when he finally arrived at the city wall, well past midnight. The gates had already been closed and barred and the guards that were on duty didn’t exactly look happy about having someone riding up in the middle of the night. Especially someone as heavily armed as Edan was. On his back were two swords, his claymore that was just short of six feet in length along with a shorter broadsword, the MacLeod family broadsword to be exact. On his belt were a short sword and a dirk, and at the small of his back was a scramasax, though the guards couldn’t see that one. He also had a large battle axe and a war hammer attached to the saddle of his horse. Basically, he was ready for anything.
As he approached the gate, he dismounted the horse and made the rest of the way on foot. Two of the guards reluctantly stepped out of their shelter and into the rain to meet him, hands on the hilts of their swords. They obviously didn’t trust him, but that made no difference to him, he was going to get inside those walls tonight, one way or another. “The gates be closed fer the night, ya will have ta come back in the mornin’.” One of the guards said as he came to a halt in front of them.
“I just be lookin’ ta get out o’ this rain an’ find me a place ta get a drink, surely ya can let me in fer that…” Unfortunately, it was looking like it wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped to get drunk tonight.
“I do no’ care what reason ya be wantin’ inta the city, ya are not gettin’ in tanight. Now be gone before I have ta hurt ya…”
Now he was getting angry. He was a Knight of Scotland after all, though he hadn’t been planning on letting anyone know that. Being a Scottish Knight wasn’t going to matter to anyone once he left Scotland. He took a half a step forward, his right hand lifting slightly toward the handle of the claymore sticking out over his right shoulder. If he had to, he would cut these guards down and open the damn gate himself, somehow. The guards, seeing him going for his sword, drew their own as they both took a step back. They weren’t sure if they wanted to go up against the heavily armed giant of a man in front of them. “I be warnin’ ya,” one of the guards said, “do no’ come any closer…”
“My name be Sir Edan MacLeod, I was knighted by Robert the Bruce himself. Me uncle is the Chief of the Clan MacLeod. I demand that ya open them bloody gates an’ let me inta the city now…before I do somethin’ you will regret…” As he spoke, he reached his other hand up and pulled a medallion from under his shirt and armor. The medallion had been given to him by The Bruce when he was knighted and marked him as a Knight and High Protector of Scotland. If the guards didn’t let him in after seeing that, then they must be idiots.
“I apologize, Sir…” The guard’s face visibly paled as he saw the medallion, then he quickly turned and ran back toward the gate, leaving his comrade standing there in front of Edan. “OPEN THE GATE!” He could be heard yelling to the other guards and a minute or so later the heavy doors began to creak open. Edan dropped his hand down from the handle of his claymore and mounted his horse again. He knew word would spread come morning that he was in town, hopefully he could find an out of the way pub and keep a low profile until he could find a ship and get out of there. He really didn’t want to be bothered by anyone else.
Once the gates were open, he rode into the city, ignoring the guards now. He had been planning on asking them where the nearest tavern was, but then they’d know where he was going, and that wouldn’t be a good thing. He’d just have to find one on his own, which probably wouldn’t be too hard, this was Scotland after all.
To make things worse, the whole time he’d been riding from Dunvegan it had been raining. It wasn’t like it was a rare thing in Scotland, but it didn’t do anything to improve his mood. At least when he got to Turas Lan and found a tavern he could get dried off as well as drunk. He’d never been to Turas Lan before, many things had changed since the last time he’d set foot on the Isle, some for the better, some not. Hopefully Turas Lan would be one of the better changes, although he wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to really find out.
It was quite late when he finally arrived at the city wall, well past midnight. The gates had already been closed and barred and the guards that were on duty didn’t exactly look happy about having someone riding up in the middle of the night. Especially someone as heavily armed as Edan was. On his back were two swords, his claymore that was just short of six feet in length along with a shorter broadsword, the MacLeod family broadsword to be exact. On his belt were a short sword and a dirk, and at the small of his back was a scramasax, though the guards couldn’t see that one. He also had a large battle axe and a war hammer attached to the saddle of his horse. Basically, he was ready for anything.
As he approached the gate, he dismounted the horse and made the rest of the way on foot. Two of the guards reluctantly stepped out of their shelter and into the rain to meet him, hands on the hilts of their swords. They obviously didn’t trust him, but that made no difference to him, he was going to get inside those walls tonight, one way or another. “The gates be closed fer the night, ya will have ta come back in the mornin’.” One of the guards said as he came to a halt in front of them.
“I just be lookin’ ta get out o’ this rain an’ find me a place ta get a drink, surely ya can let me in fer that…” Unfortunately, it was looking like it wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped to get drunk tonight.
“I do no’ care what reason ya be wantin’ inta the city, ya are not gettin’ in tanight. Now be gone before I have ta hurt ya…”
Now he was getting angry. He was a Knight of Scotland after all, though he hadn’t been planning on letting anyone know that. Being a Scottish Knight wasn’t going to matter to anyone once he left Scotland. He took a half a step forward, his right hand lifting slightly toward the handle of the claymore sticking out over his right shoulder. If he had to, he would cut these guards down and open the damn gate himself, somehow. The guards, seeing him going for his sword, drew their own as they both took a step back. They weren’t sure if they wanted to go up against the heavily armed giant of a man in front of them. “I be warnin’ ya,” one of the guards said, “do no’ come any closer…”
“My name be Sir Edan MacLeod, I was knighted by Robert the Bruce himself. Me uncle is the Chief of the Clan MacLeod. I demand that ya open them bloody gates an’ let me inta the city now…before I do somethin’ you will regret…” As he spoke, he reached his other hand up and pulled a medallion from under his shirt and armor. The medallion had been given to him by The Bruce when he was knighted and marked him as a Knight and High Protector of Scotland. If the guards didn’t let him in after seeing that, then they must be idiots.
“I apologize, Sir…” The guard’s face visibly paled as he saw the medallion, then he quickly turned and ran back toward the gate, leaving his comrade standing there in front of Edan. “OPEN THE GATE!” He could be heard yelling to the other guards and a minute or so later the heavy doors began to creak open. Edan dropped his hand down from the handle of his claymore and mounted his horse again. He knew word would spread come morning that he was in town, hopefully he could find an out of the way pub and keep a low profile until he could find a ship and get out of there. He really didn’t want to be bothered by anyone else.
Once the gates were open, he rode into the city, ignoring the guards now. He had been planning on asking them where the nearest tavern was, but then they’d know where he was going, and that wouldn’t be a good thing. He’d just have to find one on his own, which probably wouldn’t be too hard, this was Scotland after all.