The Market Riot <Closed>

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Aislin: They may have been old ways, but they worked when done right. Today was both a mixture of running a errand for the infirmary and for a personal matter. It was good that Ophelia was with her, for while Aislin liked her alone time, she had duties to do and someone to help with them was always welcome, not to mentiopn Ophelia's company was never a bad one.

Ophelia: Not one to venture into heavily populated areas often, Ophelia found herself frequenting the city more and more as of late for various purposes, all of which revolved around a growing tension that grasped the entire countryside. Aiding Lady Aislin was truly a blessing, providing her both with a distracting task and a sense of purpose. The past still haunted her, however much she tried to forget it and let it be. Her small, well-made one handed sword had been sharpened and was kept sheathed on a thick leather belt beneath her flowing robes of night blue. Long bow carved of ash along with a fine quiver of freshly fletched arrows to match were both left in a safe, secure place should their use become necessary. Eyes of purest amber took note of their surroundings in detail both for future reference and for their collecting of supplies.-d-

Beathag: The hunter and the hunted ran a distinct line in the market. Starting from the far end, the wave of gasps, mutters, and turned heads outlined who was coming, where, and when. " Stop him! Don't let him get away!" Swords were withdrawn as the guard seemed to manifest from out of thin air. Suddenly the market was alive with the sounds of shocked inquiry as people backed away from the man as he ducked under pop in one shop and out of the other. Of all the people to pursue him was the Dutchess herself, in no mood to have been trifled with. The guard had to cut through thick throngs of people.He reached up and tore down a canopy, sending the fabric down as a blockade, not anticipating the woman would be a bull that tore through it. It was yards more..seconds it seemed...before the pair of them would be caught in a tussle. His desperation, striking, leaving bruises on arms and chest..against her strength, which was pulling him out of the main thoroughfare to an alley unseen (d)

Caliban Thrule: "Ah hell... damned fool I be" He cursed aloud as he saw the woman engage the runner, lurching into a lumbering run to try to offer assistance. Of course even he knew that he probably stood a good chance that he'd be caught by her guards long before he could offer help..... at the very least being detained and more likely being beaten down as yet another suspect. Still... no one said that he was the clearest of thinkers in a situation like this. (d)

Aislin: Aislin had lerned well from her husband, having armed herself also with a small and short dagger that was wrapped around her thigh with a strap to be in reaching distance should the time come for it. She was not naive and the people here, while loving them it seemed at most, were still strangers and Aislin could not bring herself to fully trust those about them. The distance accurancy was lost on the two women as they moved down the market square and paused by a small cart filled with different roots, leaves and other plant life Aislin saw potential in. Reaching for one of the thicker, white roots, she pulled it to her nose and inhaled it to see how fresh it truly was. Perfect..the smell of musky sap hit her nose making it wrinkle at the bridge for a momenr before she held it to the woman to show she wanted it and placed it within the sac she was currently carrying. "Have you mixed many things before Ophelia, to make ointments and saps or oils? How far does ye healing ability go? Beyond touch or simply with touch?" she asked, unsure if Ophelia only did hands on things such as tending wounds or if she made oils and what have you to help the body long after.

Ophelia: Senses finely tuned from life in the wilder parts of the isle, Ophelia's keen ears heard the commotion and kept her sharp, golden eyes alert for trouble as they paroused the market's selection of supplies. Hearing Aislin's inquiry,luminous eyes moved to her as she answered, her melodic voice even and low. "I have learned a great deal in my time under the tutelge of Avalon. I was taught the ways of mending of both the outer and inner body." Looking through thecart herself, Ophelia selected a few roots herself, as well as some dried herbs that smelled both sweet and bitter in the same instance.-d-

Beathag: The woman told each how much the herbs would be, showing them jars to hold salves, oils, and poltices when the person at the neighboring venue said, "There's a traitor in the market, and the Dutchess herself caught hold of him!" The throng was moving past Aislin and Ophelia, with Caliban to an end of the market splitting off to an alleyway. Who knew what or who was in the bunch? Perhaps Caliban, foolish hero to himself, perhaps opportune assistance to another, saw what had been once a mild mannered bar keep take hold with two hands to the brigand. He'd landed a good punch to her arm, making it tense. Adrenaline though kept it straight as she ducked a hit to her face..and looked like a hell hound possessed. Taking him down would not be easy. Finding an outlet, he backed into the alley, taking the corner wall so nothing could come up on his back. From his belt he pulled out a daggers, so from her boots came her own. The guard was too far back now to be of any use yet..leaving him and the onlookers at the front as a wall. Of course, needless to say, no one stepped forward as the two dogs bared teeth. (d)

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Caliban Thrule: The old brute had his best days long behind him.. but did still possess some skills that were honed from years in the wild. This was made evident by the thwack of a chunk of brick shattering off the man's forehead, launched from a simple sling that the man used to down small game like rabbits when in the wilds. Even as the first hit he was already plucking up another stone and setting it in the pocket while stalking forward to try to close the distance between he and the scuffle. (d)

Aislin: This was good things to know, for she wanted to share her skills with Ophelia, but did not want to offend the woman if she already knew some of them. It was her own way of feeling the woman out in a sense. As they selected their products, Aislin handed over her coins and watched as Ophelia did the same before the voice came shouting through the markets, making Aislin turn as the vender moved past her. Looking to Ophelia, she moved forward, heaidng in the direction of the tohers but instead of a fast pace, her own was slow and steady. There was no need to rush at this moment, for she was still unsure what was going on. Moving past those gathering, she pushed her way through, trying to part them to get near the middle of them. Should anything happen, she wanted to be close and ready. What she saw, was not something that shocked her, but it did make her frown a good deal. Ophelia was no doubt right behind her

Ophelia: Ophelia was indeed behind her, slender fingers tightly clutching the hilt of her short sword as she tensed. "What do you suppose this is all about?" Vibrant gaze shifted about, asessing the situation to the best of her ability. Unsure and nervous, Ophelia positioned herself by Aislin's side and awaited what may come, hell or high water.-d-

Beathag: The crowd breathed in shock and out a sense of excitement people get when confronted with a break in the banal stream of the day. A dagger reached out, another counted. One sought to take advantage of an exposed soft spot, another dodged. He would have had an upper hand, were it not for that well aimed chink clunking the back of his head. He stumbled back, rubbing at his head while the world split in two for a moment. Where did that come from? Beathag narrowed her eyes, looking around him to see an old friend who wanted nothing to do with these sorts of occasions being hero of the hour. While he was disoriented she lowered down in a crouch, driving at him with arms open, crossing the daggers around his abomen to leave him no choice but to fall back against her. He cried out..feeling his skin press on the blades through his tunic, but as he did he managed a swipe backwards, catching her shoulder with the tip of his dagger. Dragging slightly in the skin, it dislodged, her blood mingling on him as she didn't let go. Thank the Gods, it hit not the vein. (d)

Eamonn: If there was anything to make Eamonn hotter and more aggressive, it was when family members and/or close friends were threatened. Eamonn did not like to hear or see that the life of those he cared about, which was selective and few, was in jeopardy. So, it was no great surprise to see the General furious and dashing out of the Hall of War upon hearing the news of trouble in the marketplace, especially involving his sister. Eamonn tore out of the building and down to the stables, readying Finbar, his dapple grey mount, and quickly swining up on the horse's back. Spear was handed to him and gloved fingers wrapped around the thick metal shaft of the weapon as he left the stables and with him a small band of riders followed of about twenty or so, armed with spears, swords, and some even had bows attached to there saddles. The other free hand gripped the reins as he made haste to the market square, the white horse tail plume upon the great helm gleaming in the caught breeze. As they rounded the bend, following their informer. "CLEAR THE WAY! MOVE!" His baritone voice boomed, seriousness and severed patience laced within his tone and words. As the company approached the crowd of people trying to hedge in his sister, Eamonn frowned deeply and darkly, resisting the urge to run the villainous lot over. "IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIVES YOU WILL CEASE AND VACATE THIS AREA!" He shouted, trying to peer over the heads and find his sister, hoping she was not on the ground bleeding badly. "STAY YOUR WEAPONS OR YOU WILL BE GIVEN NO QUARTER!" Finbar snorted loudly, and large eyes were seemingly glaring at the throng of people.

Aislin: What was she to do? Watching her sister of spirit face off was not something Aislin had the chance to do very often and while she wanted to help, it was sometimes best to simply stand back and wait, not jump in for that would only cause confusion. The people were violent in nature deep inside, it was why they wantd to gather while Ophelia and Aislin simply gathered to see what was going on and once that was known, they stayed incase medicial attention was needed. None too soon, the familiar sound of a booming, husky voice was heard, making Aislin shiver ever so slightly at the tone and the seriousness of it. Eamonn. Looking to Ophelia' she moved towards the far end, pushing her way through those that either listened or stayed and disobeyed so she could be close if need be. She did not miss her sister getting sliced, but how deep and bad it was she could not know. Simply that her sister had some help, but how long would that last? All emotions were held back for they would do no good here. Her face became that mask of calm as she waited for either Bess to kill the male, or the fighting to stop.

Caliban Thrule: The grizzled wanderer skittered to a halt a good fifteen paces distant, calling out in a raspy tenor. "Yae ain't gonna die?" And after seeing that the enigmatic woman would only add another scar to the collection of ones already had, he lumbered into a jog down a cross alley.... wanting to be out of the sight of the soldiers who were barreling down at the very moment. With any luck he'd be gone from the area before things were sorted, allowing him to go back to the task at hand, mulling over the job offer given to him by the woman that just dealt with a traitor. (d)

Ophelia: Remaining just out of the way, but ever by Aislin's side, Ophelia looked on worriedly with a sense of foreboding that told her that this was no normal ruffian that they faced. As of yet, she was unaware of the entirety of the political climate, though the tensions that were associated with it were overbearingly obvious to any onlooker, native or foreigner. Petite hand resting still on her sword hilt, the other went to rest on Aislin's shoulder, though whether it was to steady her, hold her back or comfort her was unclear. It would be a gesture to be interpretted in anyway the reciever chose. "Goddess help us, pandemonium follows me yet."-d-

Beathag: "Nay Thrule..nay taeday!" She called out in response to his question, breaking a slight smile neither joyours nor without an ironic sense of humor to the steel-damned. Retirement? In this state of political unrest it was highly unlikely! The man tried to break into a run after the retreating rover "Ye tossed chink! I'll get ya, or me croonies will!" He felt the press of blades digging into his skin, a slice from two as she pulled back one more time in order to shift the right dagger up his torso to his throat. It was hard to leave the area, so conjested with onlookers, even the General's words didn't make the onslaught break up! "Ye will nay be touchin' im..and any wot dae I'll pick off.." He landed a last hit, a catch at her hip, causing her to groan. Yet, strange thing was, adrenaline and injury was an insult that made her push harder..until at last she caught the back tendons of a hand, causing him to double forward and cry out..so she could heft him into a pile of wood. the spinters were a great way to hold him at bay, wood to the back...steel and an angry scot nord to the front. (d)

Eamonn: Seeing as his fair warning did not cause the crowd to leave, Eamonn growled softly, and fearing for his sister, he lifted his spear high, and the horsemen with him began to close in, trying their best not to kill civilians, but those who had weapons and did not move willingly, they were forced away. Being seated upon the horse had an advantage, especial a war horse. The shoes that had been nailed to their feet for protect were sharped to a point, so when the horse kicked, serious damage would be caused. Each horse that was within the war branch knew how to fight, and Finbar was just as fiesty as his rider. Eamonn smacked a man in the back of the head with the end of his spear as the stallion snorted loudly and ran into another, forcing his way through the crowd of people. Eamonn even knocked another to the ground with the spear end to the back of his knees. Eamonn even sent a boot into one's jaw, sending them to the ground with blood from their mouth. "GET BACK!" He growled out, Finbar pushing through and past people with the other riders flanking him. Those that did not turn to leave were struck if they resisted, and Eamonn had no mercy. One even turned to swing at the General, but the blonde warrior was having none of it today. Sneering bitterly, he slammed the heel of his boot into the center of the man's face, feeling nose and jaw crack under the blow delivered by the sole of his boot.

Aislin: While the touch was not something that Aislin accepted from everyone, she did not shoo it away for that would have been rude and she did not know if Ophelia needed it or not. Aislin herself did not need comforting because much like a time when her husband had not been in her life, she turned off all emotions or had attempted to. no need for panic. No need for being upset..simply blank. To the far left of the crowd, she was out of the way of her husband's no mercy movements that him and his men showed those who would not move. Bess and the male had moved themselves, making the crowd sway with them it seemed. Frowing at her husband's more violent actions, she wanted to sneer, but she understood the need for it, yet did not. Had people listened, they would not get his wrath, but many wanted to know why their Duchess was fighting in the middle of the market like some common person..it was understandable. "Ophelia stay close to me..we do nay want to feel the wrath of the general and his men. Ah would suggest we leave, but there may be need of us." sure enough a cry came out from the male and Aislin's head turned so fast that her braid slipped over her shoulder as she looked back where Bess was. That was when she heard Finbar neigh and turned back to see her husband heading right for Ophelia and herself. Grabbing the woman about the shoulders, she yanked her back fast, pulling her between two carts as the hose men pushed their way quickly through the crowd so they did not get stepped on or kicked.

Ophelia: The gesture wasn't one that lasted long, at any rate, for she felt the need to shift her other hand to another pouch, ascertaining the contents of the bag. There were herbs, of course, but there were also some prepared poultices and such in tiny jars. Surely they would need more than that at the end of this chaos, but it was a start. The sudden jerk backwards by Aislin was a bit shocking for her, to say the least as she'd hardly expected it and had not noticed the charging general and his men. A thankful nod was offered to Aislin as she was out of breath, a bit unnerved by it all.-d-

Beathag: It was supposed to be one man! Now, with the arrival of the general, she heard the confrontation escilating to public outrage. The panedmonium was causing complete anarchy! His croonies had mingled in, hearing of the instance and coming to help, but now they were all trapped. Trouble was that innocent bystanders were with them, now trying to disperse from the alley. As the cork were pulled from a bottle of wine, the congestion spilled into the main market in several directions. " Break the swarms! MOVE!" She bellowed out as the line of the battle began to jerk. One wall..the next inch. Forward..back. They crushed through the crates..seeming to move deeper into a suspension of time, cloth, and goods .A flicker of Aislin. A flash of Ophelia.."Get down, get down!" Like her assailant, one of her daggers, too, would be forfeit as she took aim between the two women. A gurgling sound they heard as hands that had sought to pull them underfoot now held on to his belly. Panic cared not if they were women, what status they had, or who was common or no. It seemed the market was closing in on itself. Where did Thrule go, did he get away? Damn it! She couldn't see..could hardly breathe as the injuries began to burn. There would be no taking him. He'd have to die in the streets, divulge the information as last words. "Ye won't stop 'em! They at Potree...they are goin' down to Struan! We may e'en take this city! " (d)

Eamonn: If people wanted to see the reasons for the fight, they could move and keep their distance. They need not be in the fray for such understand, for they would simply be in the way rather than finding answers. Eamonn wanted to get to his sister, and NO ONE was going to stop them. Those that did not step aside were pushed aside by force of horse, or if they tried to fight back they were hit. To some, it looked rough and perhaps not needed, but war had been his life, and he knew it better than most. People who had no military knowledge would never understand truly. Rolling his eyes, the brawl within the market seemed to expand and move. Eamonn did not see his wife or Ophelia, and perhaps that was good, or else that would have been another head to worry about for him, and distract him. "GET OUT OF THE WAY AND YOU WILL NOT BE HURT!" He shouted, Finbar shoved another man to the side, causing him to fall over. The tall" stallion stepped over the man without care. Eamonn leaned over, grabbed a man by the back of his neck, and slung him backward, out of the way. Sitting up straigh again, Eamonn urged Finbar fast toward his sister, rounding a bend and knocking over another man with the end of his spear to the head. Finally, the familiar blonde in sight, Eamonn growled and Finbar pushed pash bodies of men who looked or were at arms. One even dared to come too close to the horse's flanks. Reacting, Finbar bucked and kicked out with his back legs, the man narrowly missing the deadly hooves. At last he was close to Bess, and wheeling Finbar around sideways, he blocked her front, and when a man tried to get close, they got a boot to the face. "BESS! GET ON NOW!" Eamonn did not want her surrounded. His riders were already starting to break through the lines of men with ease, making their way toward their commander while some tried to run off a few of civilians who were armed and trying to fight back.

Aislin: Aislin held Ophelia close for a moment, gripping slender and long fingers about her outer shoulders before she saw the last of the men pass and let her go. She saw the nod but said nothing more as she waited for the woman to move until she heard Bess's voice and turned to see her sister looking right at her through the crowd. Aislin did not hesitate to duck, feeling Ophelia do the same with her in perfect union before the sound of someone's air leaving them came out making Aislin turn her serious face to the male holding his middle. Lifting her long, breech encased leg, she kicked out at the male's groin to get him farther away from them before grabbing Ophelia's hand so they would not become seperated."We must leave now.." she stated the obvious, letting Ophelia know her plans were NOT to stay and fight. Aislin was not reckless unlike others and she knew her limit. This was no longer a good place for them. moving as slow as a slug through the crowd, she felt a tug on her hand and then Ophelia's removed itself from her own. What was she doing? "Now nay be the time to fi.." she paused when she saw the crowd shifted and two men were heading sideways instead of forward, pushing Ophelia with them unknowingly. "Shyt" she said under her breath as she changed directions and tried to wade through the crowd, but she was going against them and they were winning like the strongest waves.

Ophelia: Everything was happening so quickly, it was truly hard to fathom as Ophelia saw it all whir by her. The man behind them was in his death throes and the throng that had been somewhat quelled was now rising like a flood of humanity around them, washing them this way and that in the full marketplace. About bloody ready to bludgeon the wayward men who were so rudely shoving her along, Ophelia gave one a good, pointy elbow to the stomach, and the other a solid shove sideways before making a break to crash through the vendors and to the protection of the few buildings. As soon as she felt safe enough, Ophelia climbed up into a wagon and looked through the crowd for her newfound friends. Scanning the area so scrutinously, she hardly noticed anyone climbing into the driver's seat of the wagon until she heard the slap of reins against the rump of donkeys or the jerk of the cart forward that knocked her flat from her feet and into the bed of the wagon. Landing solidly with a resounding 'thud', her crown struck the side of the cart and it was lights out for the child of Avalon.-d-

Beathag: "Aislin, Ophelia?! Where are ye...get gone! " Her command was lost in the commandments gone awry as the people of the markets began to crawl like rats in a tunnel sensing danger. Where would they all go next? " Dun let it out o' the square, get as many out as ye can n' block off this section! " She looked over her shoulder to the man that caught sight of her, following orders as best as instinct could allow. The struggle was coming to the height. He threw out a hand, sinking his knuckles into her cheek, turning her head hard. Blood formed in her mouth to be spat out, and she staggered. It was too dangerous to loose footing, but both were running out of room and choices. "We're goin to take Potree!" he cried out..which confirmed the worst fears of earlier: Raven and Kaelyn had ridden head long into a trap, and Adam had gone off to another. The Island was a land mine! Growling, Bess took hold of a man charging at her, tossing him down on the traitor. Both tumbled back, lost in a sea of people. Her head began to throb as Eamonn emerged into sight. She pushed her way toward horse and master so she could throw her body up and over Finbar. Their danger was not being surrounded, it seemed it would be not getting taken in the undertow. The Dutchess' foot was caught, she shook violently to loose it, holding on to the saddle..beginning to rise up into the air. Gravity would pull her away if she did not get up. "GET OFF! GET OFF!" As she moved up..they pulled her down (d)

Eamonn: The war was inevitable now, and already Kaelyn and Raven were headed into a trap with militia infantry. Hopefully, they would be able to hold their own against the forces, for Eamonn might not be able to get there in time, and with incidents like this, his attention was splilt. Bess called out the name Aislin, and Eamonn's heart froze. Was he hearing things? He prayed that Eamonn was not out here in this, he prayed that he heard his sister wrong and that his beloved was not in this mess of things. As a man charged them, Eamonn frowned deeply and urged Finbar forward a step, only to whip him around quickly and knocking him over with his rear. Sneering, he approached Bess again, and seeing her dart toward him and cling to the saddle, others rushed the horse and rider. Raising the spear, he hit one in the face and knocked another back with a swipe across the head. He kicked and Finbar bit those that came too close to him. They grabbed her by the ankles and tried to pull her down. Eamonn had enough of this. In rage for his sister, the spear was turned, and the close man received a spear tip embedded in the upper shoulder. Yanking the tip out, the man screamed and fell backward. Reaching for Bess, he snatched her up onto the saddle in front of him. Spear still in hand, his other arm reached around his sister and held the reins. "Hold on! Did you say that Aislin was : here?!?" He asked, heels pressing into the flanks of Finbar to make him set to motion. Lashing out with his back hooves again, one man was kicked hard in the chest and sent flying back.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Aislin: Voices were distant mumbles compared to those near her, pushing and shoving like scared cattle. She lost sight of Ophelia and that made her grow fustrated slightly. Humanity, made her stay and fight her way back to get to the woman that had come with her. Aislin might not feel things at the moment, but that did not make her have heartless actions. The crowd was much like cattle in more ways then one. It did not matter that she was a woman or that she was slender and delicate looking then most, for men proved that when she got in the way and tried to work her body around them only to get pushed into others violently, making them all stumble like racks, including Aislin. The bad part came that when she was down, she noticed that people did not stop moving and some stepped over her. Moving as fast as she could, she got back to her feet stumbling as people kept pushing and shoving. Out of reaction, she did it back pushing those with all her might. One male did not find it ammusing and instead of pushing her back he elbowed her in the side of her hip, making her growl and back hand him in their own little tiff between those still moving. Before it could get too violent, the people moved like a shift in a wave and they got seperated. Not seeing Ophelia any where, she sighed and finally let herself get taken with the crowd, moving towards a more open street as she limped, holding her side and part of her stomach from where she got elbowed. The ache and sharp pain made her wince with each step as she headed down the area towards Carnival lane.

Ophelia: Gone limp in the back of the wagon, Ophelia did not move for a time, only breathing shallow and quietly. Her presence in the cart was unknown to most, more than likely, although as for the intent of the driver, one could not be entirely sure. That being besides the point, the cart plowed its way through the crowd and worked its way out of the market and toward the docks. It was slow-going, of course, due to the chaos and insanity running amock. After a time, Ophelia stirred, moving both hands to the pounding of her head, trying to cushion it agains the hard bottom of the cart. Full wakefulness eluded her, however, as the cart slowly moved forward.-d-

Beathag: Bess screamed when her legs were beginning to buckle. If Eamonn hadn't helped to pull her up, she would have had no choice but to let go. She couldn't risk him and Finbar collapsing. "Ah saw them!" she said in response, huffing, trying to catch her breath as her feral eyes peeled this way and that. Where were they?! Her sister in law, a sister at heart, and a battle brother were lost somewhere in the crowd. "Aislin, Ophelia!" Calling out was desperate; if they could hear her voice, they could follow it as Eamonn rode out of the masses. With no swords, some resorted to throwing what they had to find a way out: vegetables, baskets, a shower of things seeming to rain down on them as they fought through. Slowly but surely the crowd was beginning to break apart..revealing people amidst crushed goods, some injured...others stamped beyond all recognition. A glass bottle broke through the waves. With hands raised up, a thousand pieces shattered and made her hands bleed..some knicking her cheeks, having to be pulled out of her brow...tears welled in her eyes at the sting..but he was getting away. Oh no! With the last dagger she had to her, withdrawn from her bodice, she threw it out, letting it sink into in to the base of his skull (d)

Eamonn: She saw his wife here in this madness. Eamonn's heart lurched once more, and he swallowed hard. First his sister, and now his wife were in this mess of things and Eamonn feared for her. She saw them, but where?! It was important that they be found quickly, Aislin and her friend, Ophelia. Eamonn frowned deeply, and ushered his horse through the crowds. "AISLIN!" He shouted, hazel eyes peering over his sister's shoulder. Just as he looked away, turning his head, a bottle went flying, and shattered against the hands of his sister. Finbar reared, surprised by the chaos of flying objects, and Eamonn held on, his body and arms preventing his sister from sliding back or side to side. It was hard for him to see who threw it, but his seemed to have things under control, which was good. His mind was split between the care of his sibling, his wife, and the mayhem that was raging on. Brows were set in a seemingly permanent frown as eyes darted this way and that, looking for his wife in the crowd of people. Just as he wheeled Finbar around, someone with a metal blacksmith hammer slide along side him and struck him hard in the side of his knee which was partly covered by the tassets, but still hurt nonetheless. Gritting his teeth hard, biting back the pain, he glared down at the man and smacked him across the face hard, sending the man to the ground. "Bastard.." He cursed in a hiss. Ignoring the pain that shot up and down his leg, the General turned to his sister. "Bess...take the sword from the scabbard at my side, just in case...these twits are getting desperate." Eamonn whispered to her. Finbar turned his ears, knowing just who Eamonn was searching for the moment he shouted the name, which only proved that horses had an intelligent mind of their own. Pushing through the dissipating crowds taking a few cheap shots, the stallion tried to make his way toward Aislin, following the scent of her and listening for her voice to help guide him better than Eamonn could ever.

Beloved Souls: Bess' voice was not heard, for Aislin had already moved farther down the coddle stone path with the crowd and floowed out past them market area into the larger opening where people got their space back and seemed to settle once moreinto a more calmer approach when they had more space. Cattle. Aislin growled and moved off to the side as she felt sick again, knowing it was from exhaustion and not eating right. before she could help herself she found a alley opening and slid into it as she felt the waves hit her over and over from the ache in her stomach. Her body was delicate from the stress in her personal life and it showed it's ugly head as she began to vomit what food and drink she did have within her body. Moments alter she was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and moving out from the alley way to see some still gossiped but otherwise they had settled back into simply getting where they needed to. Ocean colored eyes looked for Ophelia but saw her not, before she took old advice and moved for the wall of the city so she could follow it back to the castle. She felt worse by the minute and needed to rest. She was tired, sore now and had her excitement for the day. While it was not as others had, for she had no idea how bad others were hurt. Finding a stack of hay..she took a seat upon it and waited for the nausia to settle so she could make her way home.

Ophelia: The cart came to a stop outside several buildings and the driver, still apparently unaware of Ophelia's unconscious body, slid off the seat and went inside. The world came swimming back into view after some time had passed, allowingher to slowly sit up, though not without pain. Knowing head injuries to be of a very serious nature, Ophelia took care not to move too swiftly or without cause, as all her energy would be needed to get herself somewhere a tad bit safer than where she currently resided. Ascertaining her location to be the docks or near there, Ophelia looked for signs of an inn or any place that would harbor her aching body, even if temporarily. Stumbling a bit as she went, the daughter of Avalon found just what she'd been searching for...an inn. The innkeep took one look at her and fetched a servant girl to help Ophelia to a room, wherein she could rest. Before laying down to an uncertain sleep, the priestess removed a small vial from her pack, which she upended, drinking it in. With hopes that she would awaken again upon the morrow, she laid back with covers pulled to her chin. The ugly purple bruising of her upper right fore head and temple region pounded loudly yet, but sleep still found her.-d-

Beathag: The crowds were more than desperate; spilling out into the rest of the city so they could find room to collect themselves, a concentration of others would be unable to get away. It seemed the guard had been able to sequester the small number of men, fifteen, who'd remained armed with intent to do harm. Somewhere in the throng of onlookers that tried to push past Finbar were another few men. Now? Beathag couldn't distern between who was who. She took the sword of it's sheath, giving it to the grip of her left hand. Adjusting the hand hold on the hilt with a slight, light toss, she brought it back down in an arc to carve them a path if necessary. Eyes around them were obvious... they were trying to take Finbar down. Angry at the upset that wasn't quelled, raging, they were trying to pull at whatever parts of them could be reached. A weapon of claw shape, hooked into her thigh but the sword went across her body to plunge into the ribs. Their own people were trying to take them down. " Back, back! Back Ah say!" When another was killed by the sword..they seemed to take the hint, backing away so Finbar could continue to move to Aislin (d)

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