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Elyna really needs to stay home at night - Malcolm
- Elyna
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Last edited by Elyna on Mon Feb 06, 2017 10:41 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 0
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The sound of weighted rope sung in the distance, rolling waves lapped against the shore, and somewhere along the dock it sounded as if there were a boat party going on, with drums and shakers, and a drunken man singing his heart out. Beside Malcolm, Heath stood shivering, teeth chattering and arms crossed over how torso. "I told you not to go swimming," Malcolm smirked, it may have been Ashan now but the nights still held a chill that reminded them all of the colder season of Cylus not long passed.
"I thought I saw something down there," Heath argued, "gold!"
"A lot of good that did you."
Heath held up his prize, a half rusted helmet that looked as if it had been nothing but a decorative piece. "Will look good in my collection," the knight smiled.
"Of rubbish?"
"Heath laughed, "At least my house has character, your's is skin and bones."
"Less to clean," Malcolm told him.
"Clean? Clean he says! As if you've ever lifted a broom in your life," Heath scoffed, "I bet your wife does everything for you."
"What would you know? You've never met her," Malcolm countered.
"You never bring her to our functions," Heath protested, "I'm starting to think she doesn't exist."
"Nice try," Malcolm pushed the man and Heath grabbed him, worried about falling off the edge of the dock into the cold water again.
"Is our watch over yet?" He complained.
Malcolm smirked, "Half a break ago."
It was Heath's turn to lash out, and he did, striking Malcolm upside the head playfully, "And you had me standing out here shivering like a fool!"
The captain laughed wholeheartedly, "Serves you right."
"Meet you for a drink at the tavern? I'll have to go home and change first."
"Sure, why not, you owe me a drink," Malcolm teased.
Heath just stared.
"Kidding!" Malcolm told him, "I'll buy the first round."
"And the second!" His comrade demanded.
"Don't push your luck."
The two walked the length of the docks to where their horses waited and Malcolm watched Heath go on ahead in the dark, the road lit every few hundred metres where another guard stood on patrol. Malcolm climbed up into the saddle and followed shortly after him but not without letting their replacements know what had already taken place tonight. His watch over, the captain spurred his horse on and had the animal canter up the road, trying hard to see in the dim light. The closest moon made the dirt road clear enough and soon, the great walls and burning lights of the capital were in sight.
From a dull thudding to a high-pitched clip-clop, the sound of his mount's footfalls changed as his shod hooves met the cobblestone roads of the city streets. Malcolm slowed the horse to a manageable trot and as they weaved further and further into the depths of the city, he had the horse walk only to come to a stop metres from the tavern.
Malcolm pulled the reins over the chestnut gelding's head and tied him to a post between two other rather quiet looking horses before walking towards the busy tavern. From outside he could hear the music and patrons singing along, drinking, and gambling, no doubt with dice and cards. He was just about to go inside when something stopped him, and Malcolm turned around to look up at a window that was lit up from the inside. Beyond the window a young boy sat, no more than seven years of age, and pointed, knocking the glass with the end of his finger.
Perplexed, Malcolm held his right hand up and turned a finger on himself, wondering what the boy was getting at. The child shook his head and pointed more frantically and the captain turned and looked down the empty street before staring back at the boy who remained persistent. Again Malcolm glanced to his right and took a few measured steps towards a narrow, unlit alleyway. This time when he looked back to the high window, he noticed the boy nod his head.
Whatever state he had been in moments ago, relieved, perhaps even relaxed at the thought of being finished with work for the evening, was now gone. Tension set in and Malcolm listened first for any sound coming from the lane. He closed his hand over the hilt of his long-sword and quietly stepped into the alleyway, hoping he wasn't about to be jumped by a group of thugs; perhaps he should have waited for Heath first, he thought then, only to push on.
"I thought I saw something down there," Heath argued, "gold!"
"A lot of good that did you."
Heath held up his prize, a half rusted helmet that looked as if it had been nothing but a decorative piece. "Will look good in my collection," the knight smiled.
"Of rubbish?"
"Heath laughed, "At least my house has character, your's is skin and bones."
"Less to clean," Malcolm told him.
"Clean? Clean he says! As if you've ever lifted a broom in your life," Heath scoffed, "I bet your wife does everything for you."
"What would you know? You've never met her," Malcolm countered.
"You never bring her to our functions," Heath protested, "I'm starting to think she doesn't exist."
"Nice try," Malcolm pushed the man and Heath grabbed him, worried about falling off the edge of the dock into the cold water again.
"Is our watch over yet?" He complained.
Malcolm smirked, "Half a break ago."
It was Heath's turn to lash out, and he did, striking Malcolm upside the head playfully, "And you had me standing out here shivering like a fool!"
The captain laughed wholeheartedly, "Serves you right."
"Meet you for a drink at the tavern? I'll have to go home and change first."
"Sure, why not, you owe me a drink," Malcolm teased.
Heath just stared.
"Kidding!" Malcolm told him, "I'll buy the first round."
"And the second!" His comrade demanded.
"Don't push your luck."
The two walked the length of the docks to where their horses waited and Malcolm watched Heath go on ahead in the dark, the road lit every few hundred metres where another guard stood on patrol. Malcolm climbed up into the saddle and followed shortly after him but not without letting their replacements know what had already taken place tonight. His watch over, the captain spurred his horse on and had the animal canter up the road, trying hard to see in the dim light. The closest moon made the dirt road clear enough and soon, the great walls and burning lights of the capital were in sight.
From a dull thudding to a high-pitched clip-clop, the sound of his mount's footfalls changed as his shod hooves met the cobblestone roads of the city streets. Malcolm slowed the horse to a manageable trot and as they weaved further and further into the depths of the city, he had the horse walk only to come to a stop metres from the tavern.
Malcolm pulled the reins over the chestnut gelding's head and tied him to a post between two other rather quiet looking horses before walking towards the busy tavern. From outside he could hear the music and patrons singing along, drinking, and gambling, no doubt with dice and cards. He was just about to go inside when something stopped him, and Malcolm turned around to look up at a window that was lit up from the inside. Beyond the window a young boy sat, no more than seven years of age, and pointed, knocking the glass with the end of his finger.
Perplexed, Malcolm held his right hand up and turned a finger on himself, wondering what the boy was getting at. The child shook his head and pointed more frantically and the captain turned and looked down the empty street before staring back at the boy who remained persistent. Again Malcolm glanced to his right and took a few measured steps towards a narrow, unlit alleyway. This time when he looked back to the high window, he noticed the boy nod his head.
Whatever state he had been in moments ago, relieved, perhaps even relaxed at the thought of being finished with work for the evening, was now gone. Tension set in and Malcolm listened first for any sound coming from the lane. He closed his hand over the hilt of his long-sword and quietly stepped into the alleyway, hoping he wasn't about to be jumped by a group of thugs; perhaps he should have waited for Heath first, he thought then, only to push on.
Last edited by Malcolm on Tue Oct 08, 2019 11:41 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 780
- Elyna
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Last edited by Elyna on Mon Feb 06, 2017 10:42 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 0
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The sound of broken crates told Malcolm he was heading in the right direction and soon his vision had adjusted to the dim surroundings, aided by the overhead light from a building situated above the tavern. The alleyway was a little narrow to go swinging a sword about and so the knight drew one of his throwing daggers from its sheath on his belt and slowed where a tower of crates had tipped over, blocking his path. He twisted and worked his lean body through a narrow gap and kept out of sight, watching what looked like a big, burly man crawling around on hands and knees and a taller, much leaner man approaching him from behind.
For a brief moment, Malcolm wondered if he had stumbled upon some kind of dodgy, back alley shake down between two male lovers, but when the faint sound of a woman's voice caught his ear, adrenaline flooded his form and saw him step out from behind the crates that had kept him hidden. He threw the short blade at what was literally both his biggest and and closest target, the throwing dagger swiftly buried in the big man's back.
As the stranger cried out in pain and sat back on his knees waving his fat arms frantically in an attempt to remove the blade, set well out of his reach, his cowardly friend froze, arms spread like the crippled wings of a broken bird, turned tail and ran. Malcolm bolted forwards to go after the man but was tripped by the big guy, who with cat like reflexes, turned and grabbed at the knight's legs. Not willing to giving up that easy, Malcolm turned to lie on his back and brought his right leg up to kick the fat man in the face.
The assault gave Malcolm the time he needed to get to his feet and draw his sword, but not without giving his opponent opportunity to find his footing as well. The big guy danced about like an out-of-shape heavy weight boxer, and before he even had the chance to throw the first punch, Malcolm drove his sword into the man's chest and growled as he stepped forward and gave a final shove in order to see the weapon buried to the hilt. The man on the end of his sword rasped, blinked down at his own death and then fell forwards, with the off-duty knight only just managing to move back out of the way before he might have been crushed.
With the heavy set brigand dealt to, Malcolm climbed over the man, abandoning his sword to see if the woman who had been attacked by the giant was all right. He knelt down near her and took the woman's upper arm in hand to help her sit up, "Are you all right?" He asked, green eyes wide with surprise at the the sight of who he was holding. "El---"
Malcolm's words were cut short, the light in his eyes replaced with the dread of pain as a knife was plunged into his collar on the left side. He felt himself swallow, the air in his lungs quickly pushed out as his knees gave and he sunk to sit back against his heels, stomach tight with the anticipation of death as blood rushed from the inch wide cut left of his neck, limbs limp and hands twitching, itching to get ahold of the redhead male who had attacked him from behind. Coward, he thought again as the stranger took hold of him, dragging him back from Elyna. With the last of his strength, Malcolm tightened his hands wound his attacker's wrist and closed his eyes, not sure his ability was going to work, until he felt the man struggle, and then scream.
For a brief moment, Malcolm wondered if he had stumbled upon some kind of dodgy, back alley shake down between two male lovers, but when the faint sound of a woman's voice caught his ear, adrenaline flooded his form and saw him step out from behind the crates that had kept him hidden. He threw the short blade at what was literally both his biggest and and closest target, the throwing dagger swiftly buried in the big man's back.
As the stranger cried out in pain and sat back on his knees waving his fat arms frantically in an attempt to remove the blade, set well out of his reach, his cowardly friend froze, arms spread like the crippled wings of a broken bird, turned tail and ran. Malcolm bolted forwards to go after the man but was tripped by the big guy, who with cat like reflexes, turned and grabbed at the knight's legs. Not willing to giving up that easy, Malcolm turned to lie on his back and brought his right leg up to kick the fat man in the face.
The assault gave Malcolm the time he needed to get to his feet and draw his sword, but not without giving his opponent opportunity to find his footing as well. The big guy danced about like an out-of-shape heavy weight boxer, and before he even had the chance to throw the first punch, Malcolm drove his sword into the man's chest and growled as he stepped forward and gave a final shove in order to see the weapon buried to the hilt. The man on the end of his sword rasped, blinked down at his own death and then fell forwards, with the off-duty knight only just managing to move back out of the way before he might have been crushed.
With the heavy set brigand dealt to, Malcolm climbed over the man, abandoning his sword to see if the woman who had been attacked by the giant was all right. He knelt down near her and took the woman's upper arm in hand to help her sit up, "Are you all right?" He asked, green eyes wide with surprise at the the sight of who he was holding. "El---"
Malcolm's words were cut short, the light in his eyes replaced with the dread of pain as a knife was plunged into his collar on the left side. He felt himself swallow, the air in his lungs quickly pushed out as his knees gave and he sunk to sit back against his heels, stomach tight with the anticipation of death as blood rushed from the inch wide cut left of his neck, limbs limp and hands twitching, itching to get ahold of the redhead male who had attacked him from behind. Coward, he thought again as the stranger took hold of him, dragging him back from Elyna. With the last of his strength, Malcolm tightened his hands wound his attacker's wrist and closed his eyes, not sure his ability was going to work, until he felt the man struggle, and then scream.
Last edited by Malcolm on Tue Oct 08, 2019 11:41 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 642
- Elyna
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Last edited by Elyna on Mon Feb 06, 2017 10:42 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 0
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He took Elyna's help, struggling to his feet, one arm, the right, wrapped around her while the other pushed away from the wall. Heart pounding, Malcolm wasn't sure if he couldn't breathe because his ability had failed him and he was bleeding to death, or if it was the sheer panic and adrenaline that left him in such a state, that he could barely use his legs. Beyond the entrance to the narrow alleyway he tripped and fell onto his knees, lying down in the street on his side before being rolled onto his back, unsure if he had managed to do this himself or if there had been help.
"Malcolm!" Heath cried, sharing a blur of words with poor, frantic Elyna, "what happened?" The knight panicked, "Malcolm! Stay awake!" Heath demanded.
The captain felt Heath close a heavy hand against his neck where Elyna had torn away part of her sleeve in order to stop the bleeding, and he struggled with Heath, fighting to pull the makeshift bandage away and feel for himself, to know if he was indeed going to die or not out on the street like some kind of sick and abandoned dog, his own blood still hot on his neck.
"Hold still!" Heath hissed, brow knotted as he scanned his comrade's features; Heath froze all of the sudden and pushed Malcolm's hair back from his face to stare into his eyes, "He's bleeding all over the bloody place! Malcolm, what happened to your eyes?"
Malcolm stopped struggling and fell limp then, his eyes closed gently and relief washed over him. If Heath was more concern with the white of his eyes being replaced by a blood-shot-red, that meant his ability had worked, he had been able to transfer the wound in time to save his own life before Elyna had managed to take that of his attacker. She couldn't have known how close she had come to almost ending his life herself, a few seconds sooner and it might not have worked. He was going to be sore for a few days, fighting off the world's worst headache, and would need time to regain his strength, but at least he would be alive... It was strange, even after all these years, how scary the idea of death still remained.
"I think he's dying!" Heath worried, unsure as to whether he should block the man's nose in order to slow the stream of blood racing from it, or let it bleed.
With trembling hands Heath released the bloody rag Elyna's sleeve had become and took Malcolm's hand, pulling it up to set against his shoulder so that he might be able to lift the taller knight. It was then Malcolm opened his eyes and closed his fingers against Heath's shirt, suddenly standing, "I'm all right!" He assured the man, "I just took a knock in the alley, I'll be all right--- Elyna? He called then, not sure how the woman was faring.
"She's here, she's all right!" Heath assured him, "let's get you to the infirmary."
"No!" Malcolm protested, "my sword!"
"We'll get your sword," Heath promised him, "come on."
"Home," Malcolm made Heath promise him, "take me home..."
"Malcolm!" Heath cried, sharing a blur of words with poor, frantic Elyna, "what happened?" The knight panicked, "Malcolm! Stay awake!" Heath demanded.
The captain felt Heath close a heavy hand against his neck where Elyna had torn away part of her sleeve in order to stop the bleeding, and he struggled with Heath, fighting to pull the makeshift bandage away and feel for himself, to know if he was indeed going to die or not out on the street like some kind of sick and abandoned dog, his own blood still hot on his neck.
"Hold still!" Heath hissed, brow knotted as he scanned his comrade's features; Heath froze all of the sudden and pushed Malcolm's hair back from his face to stare into his eyes, "He's bleeding all over the bloody place! Malcolm, what happened to your eyes?"
Malcolm stopped struggling and fell limp then, his eyes closed gently and relief washed over him. If Heath was more concern with the white of his eyes being replaced by a blood-shot-red, that meant his ability had worked, he had been able to transfer the wound in time to save his own life before Elyna had managed to take that of his attacker. She couldn't have known how close she had come to almost ending his life herself, a few seconds sooner and it might not have worked. He was going to be sore for a few days, fighting off the world's worst headache, and would need time to regain his strength, but at least he would be alive... It was strange, even after all these years, how scary the idea of death still remained.
"I think he's dying!" Heath worried, unsure as to whether he should block the man's nose in order to slow the stream of blood racing from it, or let it bleed.
With trembling hands Heath released the bloody rag Elyna's sleeve had become and took Malcolm's hand, pulling it up to set against his shoulder so that he might be able to lift the taller knight. It was then Malcolm opened his eyes and closed his fingers against Heath's shirt, suddenly standing, "I'm all right!" He assured the man, "I just took a knock in the alley, I'll be all right--- Elyna? He called then, not sure how the woman was faring.
"She's here, she's all right!" Heath assured him, "let's get you to the infirmary."
"No!" Malcolm protested, "my sword!"
"We'll get your sword," Heath promised him, "come on."
"Home," Malcolm made Heath promise him, "take me home..."
Last edited by Malcolm on Tue Oct 08, 2019 11:41 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 554
- Elyna
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Last edited by Elyna on Mon Feb 06, 2017 10:42 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 0
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Our own hero's
Elyna
Skills
+3 Unarmed Combat
+1 Socialization
+4 Endurance
+1 Melee Combat
+1 Rhetoric
Basic Knowledges
Trying For a Change
Drunks Cause Trouble
Can't Run With an Injured Leg
Unarmed Combat: Attempting to Fight Two People at Once
Melee Combat: Aim For The Liver
Specialized Knowledges
Unarmed Combat: Exerting Force on Joints
Brek: Bigger Than You Are
Brek: Dead By Malcolm's Hand
Soren: Small and Easier to Evade
Soren: Dead By Your Own Hand
Malcolm: Rescuer
Injuries
Sore ribs for three trials
Malcolm
Skills
+2 Rhetoric
+1 Socialization
+1 Mount: Horse
+1 Ranged Combat
+1 Unarmed Combat
+2 Melee Combat
+2 Endurance
+1 Investigation
Basic Knowledges
Rynmere Children: Helpful in Pointing Out Trouble
Drunks: Cause all kinds of trouble.
Criminals are Cowards
Specialized Knowledges
Heath Lane: Somewhat Lacking in Common Sense
Heath Lane: A Good Friend
Brek: Dead By Your Own Hand
Soren: A Coward
Burning Touch: Works When Under Pressure
Burning Touch: Saved Your Life
Elyna: Will Be Fine
Injuries
Knife wound scar in the collar
Soreness for three trials
Headache for three trials
Weaker than usual for four trials
Comments
This was a fun read! Elyna really should stay at home at night though, or travel with a friend. And hopefully you didn't shave too many years off yer life, Malcolm.
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
word count: 216
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