Post by Lady Eirian Gwenyth Apollius on Apr 25, 2008 11:09:24 GMT -6
Eirian: To the camp on the shore rode a messanger from Arianna Hymodraeth in the fertile crescent of the Cuillin Hills. The messanger informed whomever it would listen that the General and Healer's was in the Valley with the Artisan and the King, having played in the rain and took to taking a chill (D)
Maahes: There had been a small stretch in the rest period as plans were being addressed. Over and over men would argue over the best route and soon he would have to put an end to delaying words with the King. They needed his direction. Map after map were rolled out and courses charted and Maahes could only wonder if he had given Tommasina enough time to escape. He did not read the maps as easily as others, but could gather what information he needed. As the horseman found an easy entrances Maahes's men only glanced to him. They were well aware of Galen always being a thorn in the missions; so much they were just used to it. With arms folded firmly over his chest, his expression refused to change--stoic and firm. "He always has a cold," Harsh yes, and the men just shook their head, sometimes their General just needed to live life a bit. "We can handle this Sir, go check." One man spoke and Maahes gave him a nod and gathered his weapons. (D
Eirian: "Well, m'lady thought that you would like to know sir, and thought perhaps the boy would ask for you. He had a fever last night, head spells. Just wanted to let you know that he's in good care," The messenger blinked his eyes and considered the response to his message. The boy was by no means having a usual upbringing. Wind swept at his hair, a cant of head given as the horse backed up, seeming to sense something was in the air. "I have been instructed to lead you back." Spring had taken a chill, but what was it that made it so? Perhaps the season had come to early, bursting warm in mid winter. (d)
Maahes: He would have to smirk at the words and a the leather holster was wrapped over the shoulder and across his chest. The buckle would close and Maahes would turn to face the messenger. "Then I instruct you to lead on." The Beast hated horses, but as one was prepared for him he would find the seat of the saddle. The horse would dance under the added weight of the man and a jerk of his head would be corrected. Side by side with the messenger Maahes's dark gaze would search the boy (or man) over; waiting. (d
Anulia: " Aye, sir, aye." He adjusted the leather jerkin he wore, took firm the reigns before going on to lead the party of two from the shoreline toward the green expanse of a fair country. Soon, red hills rose into the mist of day, opening out a fertile crescent. Rain engourged the streams into waterfalls that rushed downward. To get to the house, they would be led down a carved path, over a bridge to the front steps where a stable man waited to take there horses. Edward, the Steward, had stood in the hour to await the arrival. "Good day sir, Welcome to Arianna Hymodraeth. I can lead you the remainder of the way to your boy, and to the lady if you'd like." (d)
Maahes: Maahes's eyes dryly searched the man, and he would be sure to give Galen a firm talking to after this was all over. In fact he was close to just shipping him back to Avaria and his mother--where he should have been. Maahes never had a childhood so he didn't understand what adventure and innocence was like. Galen meant a lot to him, but at the same time his safety was important, and he becoming a burden (or so he thought) He would then watch the man waiting for him to take the lead. (d
Eirian: Edward looked at the man to find him made of dark brown granite. All that shifted was the eyebrows, the mouth as it moved to talk. Nothing real of emotion crossed it. No concern, at least not that he could tell. What was it with people that could hide themselves so well? No wonder Skye and Avaria were so well matched, This way, he turned to lead him inside, steps echoing on the ornate floors. What made the home distinguished was placing, artistry, for in goash style of European homes it held no candle to imposing size. Servants meandered about at chores, but not many in droves. A few cottages above the Valley were to be inhabited by people who would work the ample land as they all worked to sustain the home, the Lady included. Edward left him on the auspice of a doorway, where inside the woman rubbed a paste of mustard seed and cloves across Galen's chest. A tea of steeped honey chamomile had sent him drifting off to sleep. Like all boys, he protested a day in bed. Cuffed sleeves revealed alabaster skin stained with the paste. Next, she moistened a cloth in warm water, applying it to his chest so the benfit of the mixture soothed skin and became steam to be breathed in. (d)
Maahes: A deep breath would raise his chest and let it fall slowly. No matter how hard he'd come down on the boy or pretend he didn't care, Galen was his weakness. This boy was the one true way into his heart, and one of the few things that him human. He would say nothing, as always being the 'only speaks when spoken to' kind, but when he would find Galen's bedside he would turn a look to the woman. In many ways this was his hello, his how are you and his how is he? She would be on of the few to witness a gentle touch from otherwise harsh hands, but as he placed a hand on Galen's he would again realize this was not a dream. A sick mind often slipped into the darkness, and many times he would think this life was but a dream and at any moment he would wake up, back in the hellish hands of a man or back in an arena. The small touch would prove otherwise. (d
Maahes: There had been a small stretch in the rest period as plans were being addressed. Over and over men would argue over the best route and soon he would have to put an end to delaying words with the King. They needed his direction. Map after map were rolled out and courses charted and Maahes could only wonder if he had given Tommasina enough time to escape. He did not read the maps as easily as others, but could gather what information he needed. As the horseman found an easy entrances Maahes's men only glanced to him. They were well aware of Galen always being a thorn in the missions; so much they were just used to it. With arms folded firmly over his chest, his expression refused to change--stoic and firm. "He always has a cold," Harsh yes, and the men just shook their head, sometimes their General just needed to live life a bit. "We can handle this Sir, go check." One man spoke and Maahes gave him a nod and gathered his weapons. (D
Eirian: "Well, m'lady thought that you would like to know sir, and thought perhaps the boy would ask for you. He had a fever last night, head spells. Just wanted to let you know that he's in good care," The messenger blinked his eyes and considered the response to his message. The boy was by no means having a usual upbringing. Wind swept at his hair, a cant of head given as the horse backed up, seeming to sense something was in the air. "I have been instructed to lead you back." Spring had taken a chill, but what was it that made it so? Perhaps the season had come to early, bursting warm in mid winter. (d)
Maahes: He would have to smirk at the words and a the leather holster was wrapped over the shoulder and across his chest. The buckle would close and Maahes would turn to face the messenger. "Then I instruct you to lead on." The Beast hated horses, but as one was prepared for him he would find the seat of the saddle. The horse would dance under the added weight of the man and a jerk of his head would be corrected. Side by side with the messenger Maahes's dark gaze would search the boy (or man) over; waiting. (d
Anulia: " Aye, sir, aye." He adjusted the leather jerkin he wore, took firm the reigns before going on to lead the party of two from the shoreline toward the green expanse of a fair country. Soon, red hills rose into the mist of day, opening out a fertile crescent. Rain engourged the streams into waterfalls that rushed downward. To get to the house, they would be led down a carved path, over a bridge to the front steps where a stable man waited to take there horses. Edward, the Steward, had stood in the hour to await the arrival. "Good day sir, Welcome to Arianna Hymodraeth. I can lead you the remainder of the way to your boy, and to the lady if you'd like." (d)
Maahes: Maahes's eyes dryly searched the man, and he would be sure to give Galen a firm talking to after this was all over. In fact he was close to just shipping him back to Avaria and his mother--where he should have been. Maahes never had a childhood so he didn't understand what adventure and innocence was like. Galen meant a lot to him, but at the same time his safety was important, and he becoming a burden (or so he thought) He would then watch the man waiting for him to take the lead. (d
Eirian: Edward looked at the man to find him made of dark brown granite. All that shifted was the eyebrows, the mouth as it moved to talk. Nothing real of emotion crossed it. No concern, at least not that he could tell. What was it with people that could hide themselves so well? No wonder Skye and Avaria were so well matched, This way, he turned to lead him inside, steps echoing on the ornate floors. What made the home distinguished was placing, artistry, for in goash style of European homes it held no candle to imposing size. Servants meandered about at chores, but not many in droves. A few cottages above the Valley were to be inhabited by people who would work the ample land as they all worked to sustain the home, the Lady included. Edward left him on the auspice of a doorway, where inside the woman rubbed a paste of mustard seed and cloves across Galen's chest. A tea of steeped honey chamomile had sent him drifting off to sleep. Like all boys, he protested a day in bed. Cuffed sleeves revealed alabaster skin stained with the paste. Next, she moistened a cloth in warm water, applying it to his chest so the benfit of the mixture soothed skin and became steam to be breathed in. (d)
Maahes: A deep breath would raise his chest and let it fall slowly. No matter how hard he'd come down on the boy or pretend he didn't care, Galen was his weakness. This boy was the one true way into his heart, and one of the few things that him human. He would say nothing, as always being the 'only speaks when spoken to' kind, but when he would find Galen's bedside he would turn a look to the woman. In many ways this was his hello, his how are you and his how is he? She would be on of the few to witness a gentle touch from otherwise harsh hands, but as he placed a hand on Galen's he would again realize this was not a dream. A sick mind often slipped into the darkness, and many times he would think this life was but a dream and at any moment he would wake up, back in the hellish hands of a man or back in an arena. The small touch would prove otherwise. (d
