Kittenification

Here is another bit.

Admittedly later on in the day then I intended, but nevertheless, here it is.


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Tristram kneeled, arrow on string, motioning for his group to move up with him “Alright, first off, we kill all but one sentry, so he can warn the bandits inside and draw them out.” Looking off to his left, he saw that Catherine’s group was in place. Nodding to her he stood, firing twice quickly and nocking a third shot. Down at the stone door, all the guards dropped.
“Damn it, now we have to go strait in” he said.

Leading the way into the tunnels was Padraig, resplendent in heavy steel armour, hammer held tightly, drawing ranged weapons, Catherine’s group followed, with Tristram’s bringing up the rear. In the dim tunnel, they were tightly packed together, taking up the entire hallway. Within moments they heard the noise of someone approaching down the hallway. “Kneel” Catherine whispered to the front rank of ranged fighters.
“Draw” whispered Tristram to the second.
As three bandit guards came into view, Tristram released, watching the arrow speed forward, embedding itself deeply in the chest of the leftmost guard

Spinning and running, the other two vanished into the dark, their cries echoing in the narrow space.
“alright.” Tristram said “Padraig get behind us, we need to be able to shoot fast.”
Slipping between them, Padraig stood behind both ranks as the echoes of the bandits shouting came up to the group. Looking back over his shoulder, Tristram saw that Lizzie and Gareth had joined Padraig in standing ready behind the archers.
“Don’t be afraid to give ground” Said Gareth “if they force us into the open, just break for the ridge. The terrain will work in our favour”

Exhaling slowly, Tristram aimed straight down the hallway, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. After a long minute, the noise of boots on stone echoed up the tunnel “Any second now” said Gareth. “When you see them, shoot till you only have a few arrows left, then run, all the way out, and hide along the ridge.”
As the students murmured assent, the first of the bandits came into view.
“Fire!” Tristram shouted, and immediately the bows and crossbows all sang out, arrows flying through the dark, to strike the red-arm in the light, and by the sound of it, several behind him as well.

Immediately the sound of feet grew louder and faster, accompanied now by the shouting of angry voices. As the archers shot volley after volley into the bandits, the line moved slowly closer until the spear throwers were able to attack as well. Upon reaching that point, the line merely held, and the Students were quickly running out of arrows. “We’ll have to fall back soon!” Catherine called back to Padraig, who nodded
“We’re ready to cover you’re exit” he shouted, gesturing to himself and the two teachers “Now go!”

Firing a last volley, the archers slipped back past the three fighters, several of them drawing swords and turning back into the fray. Within seconds, the bandit line reached them and smashed on the three, crushed by Padraig’s hammer and Lizzie’s sword, as Gareth fought with a pair of hatchets. As Catherine dropped her crossbow, there was a streak of movement and the thickest group of bandits burst apart as she sped into it.

As all the students except George and Caleb, the two crossbow snipers charged into the fray, Tristram noted that the quiver attached to the stock of Catherine’s crossbow was nearly full. Loading the weapon, he called the boys over “Alright, we need to work together here, and take out the biggest, toughest bandits before they get to our line. Anyone who sticks out above the heads of the crowd, take them out.”

Stepping out to his right and left, the two boys began shooting, slowly and methodically shooting as the line fell back, step by step, swarming bandits tripping over their comrades as they drove forward. Eventually they had been pressed back so far that only three of the fighters were still in the cave mouth “Break for the ridge!” Shouted Gareth, slamming the stone door as Padraig and Lizzie stepped out through it, helping him to hold it in place “Where is Sorcha?”
“She’s at the canyon’s edge sir!” Padraig responded “Should someone bring her word?”
“Tell her that we’re sending one of our groups to back them up while the other stay’s in the rubble field to clear out those that come out here.”

“Tristram, your team is going to stay here while Catherine goes into the tunnels with me and Lizzie.” Nodding Tristram called his group over to him.
“We need to find a small opening in the rocks in front of a big area” he said “That way I can draw them in a few at a time and the crossbows can take them out. Javelins, you’re my backup. If theres more than two, you’ll be hidden nearby to help me out.”

“Alright” said Gareth “Go find your spot. We have to move so we get to the tunnel team in time.” Clapping his hand on Tristram’s shoulder, He ran quickly between the boulders, leading Catherine’s group as Lizzie brought up the rear.
“Right” said Tristram “lets do this.”
Within a few minutes they had found an ideal location, a small chokepoint that the bandits would need to come through one at a time, with a large flat area just past it. Climbing onto a pair of boulders at the back of the area, Caleb and George knelt, loading their weapons, as Abe and Quiet (who was living up to his name well at the moment, staying completely silent) hid themselves next to the canyon opening.

Breathing deeply Tristram dropped his bow, quiver, and jacket to the side, and stepped back through the crevasse, looking around slowly. Several groups of bandits were now picking their way through the field, and he was spotted by one almost instantly. As the group ran at him he slipped back through the split in the rock. Tucking a stray hair behind his ear, he pulled out his claws, sliding his fingers through the grips, standing ready. One after another, five of the bandits slipped through the opening fanning out as he slowly backed away. Right as they moved towards him, the two outermost ones fell, blood staining their shirts. As the remaining three paused two gave sudden jerks and fell, spears protruding from their backs. As the last turned to run, Tristram sprinted after him.

Spinning suddenly as he reached the narrow mouth, the bandit’s blade lashed out, too fast for Tristram to block striking his chest as he slashed with both hands, the gouges crisscrossing the bandit’s chest, a spray of blood striking Tristram’s face. Hitting the bandit with a powerful left uppercut, Tristram staggered back, lifting his shirt to see where the bandit had struck him, closing his eyes hard and swallowing before looking. The taste of blood sharp on his tongue, he looked his stomach over carefully. The only sign that he had even been struck was a slightly tender red mark across his chest.

Grinning he turned to the two spear fighters, who were looking on in concern “Looks like it was just the flat of the blade” he said “now we have to hide the bodies.” between the three of them they quickly moved the five bodies off behind a small drop-off.
Three more times, they succeeded in pulling small groups of bandits in, before the remaining groups noticed that several of their comrades had vanished into the same canyon, and none had returned. Shortly after the bodies of the fourth group had been hidden, a much larger gang of enemies entered the area. Tristram counted quickly under his breath, his hands trembling slightly. Well. Theres only twenty-three. Which way should I run..? He thought, gripping his claws tightly.

“Aw look it’s just one little one” said one of the bandits “he can’t have done much.”
“Look at the ground you idiot” a narrow faced man next to him snapped.
Glancing down, Tristram looked up guiltily. There was blood painted across all the stone at his feet, pooled in some areas, drying in others.
“Well, we’ll all attack at once” said the large bandit who had recruited Tristram and Ryan the day before “he can’t win then”
Spreading out, the bandits began moving toward him when two went down “Shit, who got them?” screamed the man standing between them, looking around frantically.
“There’s crossbowmen at the end of this area” said the narrow faced man, who Tristram had decided was most dangerous “Go get them” immediately, six of the remaining bandits ran towards the end of the canyon, two dropping the second they started moving.

“Now.” said the man “Lets deal with this one hmm?” drawing a longsword he made a throwing motion at Tristram, who had to dive to the side to avoid a lash of flame. Coming to his feet, he began backing up quickly when the fire-hurling bandit gave a scream and fell, a spear lodged deeply in his back. As the bandits turned, two more javelins flew at them, both striking the same man.
“It’s a trap!” the large bandit shouted, and a panic seemed to strike the bandits.
What are they scared of Tristram wondered They still have more than three to one, and they’re panicking

Abe and Quiet had reached the bandit line and were stabbing quickly, knocking the red-arms back with their shields Charging into the fray, Tristram leapt quickly from one foe to the next, seeking to cut at the backs of legs and the insides of arms rather than to kill. In seconds it was over.
“Surrender, surrender, we surrender!” the cry was taken up by all the bandits. Stepping back with the spearmen behind him Tristram nodded.
“Drop your weapons.”

At once the canyon was filled with the ring of steel on stone as those bandits still armed released their weapons. “Alright, Abe, I want you to tie them, and make every one of them as drunk as my great-aunt Tabitha.”
Running back to where Caleb and George were he waved them over to the bodies “put these with the others. Get all weapons and valuables off their bodies and pile them together, then just wait here for me. I’m going to go see what news we have from the tunnel team.

Picking up his bow and quiver, Tristram ran as quickly as he could to the ledge over the bandit stronghold’s entrance. The opening stood open, but no bandits were in sight. Sliding down a small rockslide, he approached the opening cautiously, arrow nocked. Seeing nobody, he stepped in, standing still as his eyes acclimatized. Hearing a noise behind him he spun and fired, his arrow striking the small man who had crept up on him in the gut, when he was grabbed from behind. Dropping his bow, he wrenched himself free and spun, rapidly striking his assailant with two quick rights and a left hook with his full body weight behind it before kicking out, his boot catching the taller man between the legs.

Drawing his right hand claws, Tristram spun, raking the inner thighs of the man he had shot before turning to the second man, who had thrown up, and was now gasping and retching for breath. Slicing the mans belt he rolled him over, tying his hands tightly, before slicing strips of cloth off of his cape to bind his legs and gag him as well. Standing, Tristram sheathed his tiger claws, picked up his bow and moved down the hall again, arrow nocked. Soon he had to pass mounds of bodies, piled up in the round area where all the hallways met. Shoving the double door to the off-duty room open with his shoulder, he aimed around quickly, and stepped in, to be greeted with a cheer.

In the center of the room was Dom’s squad, who had apparently very recently finished off the last enemies in the room “Hey there!” Dom shouted “Did you just storm down here all alone?”
“Yeah” said Tristram “there were only two guys on the way though. How are you guys doing?”
“Well I’m fine” said Dom “But Ian got cut across his back once, and I heard that the archer squad down here got hit pretty bad.”
“Well lets find them then!” Said Tristram “Which way?”
“Down the hallway directly left from this door. Gareth just went that way too.” Dom said “But my team is going right. I promised Conor backup.”
“Fair enough” said Tristram, turning and walking quickly back into the hall, running down the largest hallway on his left.

After running through the darkness for several long minutes he heard the clash of steel on steel. Running to the door at the hallway’s end, he kicked it open to find that he was on one end of a long natural bridge across an underground river, with a large group of bandits in front of him, and on the other side of the bridge, Catherine’s group stood, Archers firing as fast as they could, a rabid look in their eyes, as Catherine, Padraig, and Damien fought on the bridge, slowly falling back. In only a few minutes more they would be off the bridge and the bandits would overrun them.

Looking the mobbed bandits over, Tristram noticed a furious ball of activity near the center, which he guessed would be Gareth, fighting through to the students.
Drawing, Tristram began to shoot, firing towards the centermost bandits. In the struggle to move away from where the arrows were falling two of the bandits were knocked off the bridge and swept rapidly downstream.

“Tristram!” Spinning, arrow nocked, Tristram found that Lizzie and Sorcha had entered the room.
“Sorcha! Please run out into the valley, in a straight line from the tunnel entrance, and call out for Caleb. When you find him and the others bring them all down except Abe, who should stay with the prisoners.
Sorcha looked somewhat sick, and she was very pale, but she nodded and ran quickly out the door. Turning, Tristram found that Lizzie had charged into the thick crowd of bandits.

Drawing her sword, she held it overhead and screamed, a furious feral cry, so loud that it rang out above the noise of the clashing swords and shouting bandits.
Then she hit them.
In seconds her sword cut down more bandit’s than Tristram had shot all day. A blur of blonde hair and dark steel, she was advancing down the bridge at not much slower than a walking pace as the bandits scattered, diving into the water to evade her.

With a shout, Tristram placed his bow on the stair and drew his claws. With a shout, he ran quickly, reaching Lizzie and fighting next to her, kicking and slashing those bandits that sought to move around the furious swordswoman off the bridge. Once the bandits realized what was going on, Lizzie’s furious charge slowed, but it was only a second later that Gareth reached the students, and the far line began moving as well.

After several minutes, Lizzie stepped back so that she was shoulder to shoulder with Tristram, and she began to fight more carefully, breathing quickly as she moved.
Soon after, the two of them began to be forced backwards, and a shot of lighting came out of the crowd of bandits striking Tristram in the stomach.
Dropping to the ground he felt all the muscles in his lower body convulse quickly. Rolling to his feet, he found himself surrounded. Screaming in frustration he threw himself at the nearest bandit, slashing, clawing, gouging, kicking, head butting, but nothing seemed to clear the crowd of bandits.

“Let me shock him again” he heard one shout and he leapt onto the man, sinking both claws into the neck, yanking them free to strike viciously at the mans chest as he bit at the partially severed throat. Rising he found that several of the surrounding bandits had fallen back, staring at him with horror. Flicking his wrists to clear his claws of blood he screamed and rushed at the wall of bandits where he guessed it to be thinnest tearing into them, through them.

As he tore into them, he felt the impact of weapons on his back, but he ignored it, and the bandits began to scatter before him, and he stumbled into the open ground between Padraig and Gareth. Standing up, he turned and ran at the bandits screaming, cutting at the line as they fell back. Hearing the snap of bowstrings he looked up to see his team, and Sorcha with his bow, firing into the center of the mob. Soon only a few bandits were left and the bridge was clear enough that each one was being fought individually. As Tristram ran at his target, the man threw his sword away and kneeled, weeping.

Kicking the man off the edge, he spun breathing hard, and then as something left him, began shivering, and dropped his weapons, falling to his knees. After the last enemy fell he saw several of his classmates staring at him, before Gareth waved them off and came to kneel by him. “Tristram, can you hear me?”
Tristram nodded
“Where all are you injured?” he asked
Tristram shrugged, stood, trembling, and then everything imploded.


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Rather a bit longer this time.

As always, I hope you all enjoy it.

Kit.

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.

iamshexy

wow this story is brilliant trinstam is ace lol

Kittenification

Well today is my birthday, and so in honour of myself turning 18, heres a bit of writing.


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Waking up, he found that he was back down in the base camp next to a fire, and covered in blankets.
Shaking his head he sat up, looking around to find that Catherine, Sorcha, Dom, and Conor were seated near him.
“Hey” he said.
Sorcha immediately stood and ran off towards the teacher’s fire.
“Whats with her? He asked. Conor started to speak, but Catherine glared at him and turned to Tristram
“Gareth said we were to fetch him the second you woke. I’m sure he’ll explain now.”

Immediately Gareth came sprinting over, a knife in his hand, stopping when he saw Tristram. “Oh, you’re normal.”
Tristram frowned “Whats that supposed to mean?” he asked, staring at the knife, which Gareth quickly sheathed.
“It means that just before you passed out, you were one of the most frightening teenage boys I have ever seen. Your clothes were slashed to shreds, and spattered with blood all over, your arms were soaked with it up to the elbow, and there was a blood around your lips, coating them even. But then, I took off your shirt, and you were completely unharmed. Not so much as a scratch, although you were colder than I would think possible for a living person.”

“Well, I’m fine now.” Said Tristram “Why the knife?”
“Well I don’t know, you might still be deranged” said Gareth, “you should talk with Lizzie whenever she’s next in camp”
Behind his back, Sorcha whispered something to Catherine, and the two began laughing quietly.
“So do you feel all right?” Gareth asked
“Yeah. I think I’m fine” said Tristram. “just hungry.”
“I’ll get someone to run you a plate of food then. Try to take it easy for now.”

As Gareth walked off Tristram waved the girls over “What were you laughing about?” he demanded, and the two of them looked at each other and began laughing again “Conor?” he said, looking at his cousin
“Well lets see. How shall I put this delicately…” said Conor “Lizzie is currently absent. So is Padraig. Perhaps you get the drift?”
Tristram raised an eyebrow and Sorcha dropped to sit next to him “You should have seen them right after the bridge fight!” she proclaimed, leaning towards him “it was like…
“Oh look, your food.” said Catherine loudly, kicking at Sorcha who was leaning in towards Tristram.

Ryan handed him a deep bowl of stew and a hunk of bread “So you came to our rescue huh? You were a wreck mate.”
Thanking him, Tristram began to eat, finishing the bowl quickly, and looking up to see that Ryan was looking at him expectantly “What?” he asked.
“Well you got to tell us what you did, how you fought your way clear” Ryan said, sitting on the log across the fire from Tristram.
Exhaling, Tristram nodded “Alright. I guess I was fighting next to Lizzie when one of them- I guess his power was lightning, zapped me, and I fell. By the time I got up the line had moved over me and I was surrounded, didn’t know where to go. At first I just fought but then….”

Remembering his attack on the man who had shocked him, Tristram trailed off, recalling first his scream, then the surging, rushing attack, through the ranks of the enemy, turning to fight alongside Gareth, and finally kicking the man who had surrendered into the icy underground river.
“I don’t think I want to talk about it any more” he said. “I think I need to walk.”
Standing, he pulled on his jacket without bothering to put on a shirt first and walked uphill, away from camp, Sitting against a tree on a ledge with a small waterfall pouring into a deep pool below, he twisted at a strand of hair, staring into the waterfall.

I did what was needed to survive he thought. Theres nothing wrong with that. I just got caught up in it. But then he remembered the man’s face as he kicked him in the chest, the gasp that escaped his lips as all the air was crushed out of his lungs by Tristram’s boot, and his hand, reaching up, as he fell toward the dark, surging waters of the underground river.

Feeling horribly sick, he turned away from the river, vomiting uncontrollably, small bits of meat and vegetables from the stew remaining on the ground as the bilious froth soaked into the forest soil. Grunting in displeasure he rose to leave the clearing when something caught his eye, a light patch in the dark shrubs that surrounded the area.
“I see you Catherine.” he said, wiping his mouth as she stepped into the clearing.
“You know” she said “you should bury that.”
Shrugging, he turned to leave.

“Tristram, wait.”
Turning back, he raised an eyebrow “You should go back to camp, you don’t even have a coat.”
“Oh shut up, you don’t even have a shirt.”
Looking down, Tristram realized that she was correct, and did up three of the buttons on his coat.
“I’ll be fine now” he said
“Well I’m staying with you” she said, moving to stand next to him.

Turning, he began walking uphill.
I suppose if someone had to follow me, Cat’s a nice enough person. He thought, glancing over at her as she walked silently next to him I guess I can just sit a while.
Sitting slowly on a fallen tree, he looked up at her “Why did you follow me?” the harshness of his voice nearly startled him, breaking the complete stillness that pervaded the mountainside.
“Tristram, we were all worried about you. Ryan wanted to make you come back, and Conor said he’s never seen you like that. Liam was going to tail you himself, to make sure you didn’t do something silly, but I offered to do it.”

Staring into her eyes, Tristram noticed that they were blue, the exact same blue as Conor’s.
“Why did you offer?” he asked.
“I was worried Tristram, I told you, we all were”
“but none of the others are up here.” He said, more like an accusation than a question.
Sitting next to him she brushed his hair back “No. Everyone thought it would be best if only one person went, and we agreed that it should be me.”
“Everyone agreed?” he asked, a slight smile playing about his lips
“Well almost…” she broke off, looking at him accusingly “You knew. You knew it would be me”

He shrugged again, tucking his remaining loose hair behind his ear “I figured it would be you or Conor and I hoped you. That’s why I waited by the waterfall.”
“Why did you hope it was me.” she asked, mirroring his gesture by tucking her own long hair back “I would think you could talk to Conor more easily.”
“I could usually” he said “but not about this. Conor has always thought I was a little bit of a girl, and complaining about how I felt bad ‘cos I killed someone wouldn’t exactly stir great pity.”
She frowned “I don’t know. But I guess I don’t know Conor so well.”

“Well let me tell you a story.” Said Tristram. “When we were thirteen, Conor and I were a lot more similar. He went to the swordfights at tournaments, and I went to the targets, but we were generally the same. Then one day, after such a tourney, we were grabbed by a couple old gypsies and thrown in a cage in their camp. When the man came to feed us that night, Conor reached through the bars and stabbed him in the heart. Then we took the keys and got out. Conor looked very pale, but he never threw up, he never felt guilty.”

“Well why do you feel bad?” Catherine asked, resting her had on his leg “You killed nobody who didn’t deserve it.”
Raising his gaze to look her in the eyes, Tristram felt tears burning in his eyes and turned away quickly, dashing the liquid away with the back of his hand “I did though. That last bandit, he surrendered, and I kicked him off the bridge.”
Wrapping her arm around him, Catherine brushed a single finger along his cheek “Tristram, you were almost insane at that point in time… you can hardly be held responsible for your actions if you’re a berserker like Lizzie.”

Turning quickly to her he nearly shouted “Well that’s the bloody problem isn’t it!” I’m pretty sure that whatever my skill is, it was used today, but I’m nearly positive that it hard nothing to do with the anger. That was just normal human anger.”
Catherine leaned back a little “are you sure? You don’t seem like the type to have such a fit normally”
“Well I’m not generally, but desperation and fear for my life might have made me a little crazy there too.”
“So you were terrified.” she said “that doesn’t make you a psychopath”
“I guess.” he was silent now, contemplative.

“Alright, yeah” he said suddenly.
“yeah?” she questioned
“I think you’re right. And even if you aren’t I want to believe it enough that I’m going to until someone proves me wrong.”

“So you aren’t a madman or a frenzied warrior?” she asked teasingly, her hands now clasped at the back of his neck.
“Not if you don’t want me to be.” he replied, grinning.
“Oh.” she said quietly
“Oh?”
“Just… your lips…” she trailed off, flushing a little
“Oh.” he said
“Yes?” she asked
“Yes.” he said, and leaning in quickly, kissed her.

For several seconds she sat very still, a strange look on her face.
“look I…” he began, but he was interrupted as she pulled him to her, pressing her lips hard against his. For several seconds they went on, neither noticing as they fell off the log to roll across the forest floor until suddenly Catherine pulled back, a look of disgust evident on her face.
“What is it?” asked Tristram, staring at her pleadingly.
She held the expression for several seconds more before smirking slightly. “The inside of your mouth.” she pronounced “Tastes like dog-sick.”
Then she kissed his lips once more and they began walking back towards camp together.


***************************************

Woosah

Have fun everyone!

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.

iamshexy

lol brilliant

Malachi

Very nice, and only 18? Keep it up.

iamshexy

more, more i need more!

Kittenification

Well it's been a little while, so here's a bit.


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As they rejoined the circle, Tristram felt the eyes of his friends all on him “I’m fine.” he said quietly “there were some things bothering me, but Catherine and I talked a bit and I think I feel better now.”
“Anything worth telling the rest of us?” Ryan asked, curiosity and concern mingling to make an strange expression on his face.
“Yeah, but I’m not going to.” Said Tristram, grinning. “Lizzie and Padraig still…” his eyes flicked over to meet Catherine’s “gone?”

“Yeah they are” said Ryan, grinning broadly “Perhaps we should send a search party?
“I’ll go!” Said Sorcha.
“Count me in” said Dom, grinning
“Are we incapable of leaving them alone?” Tristram asked “I mean, I’m sure we wouldn’t like it much if our places were reversed.”
“Good thing they aren’t then” Ryan said “You coming?”

Tristram shook his head “I’m going to rest a bit. Have fun.”
Ryan shrugged and walked off, followed by Sorcha and Dom. Once they were out of sight Conor turned to Tristram “How are you?”
Tristram shrugged slowly “fine I guess. I threw up.”
“You feel alright now though?” asked Conor, lowering his head to make eye contact.
“Yeah sure. I should probably drink something though. Get the taste out of my mouth, you know?” Said Tristram.

Conor tossed him a skin of water, rising quickly “Drink all that. I’m glad that you’re alright little cousin.” Turning on his heel he walked off in the same direction that the ‘search party’ had gone.
“That was… interesting.” said Catherine, picking up one of the charred sticks in the fire and tracing over a large stone “he seemed a little put-off”
“Conor knows me well. He saw what kind of state I was in when I left and now I came back and I’m almost happy… He’s worried about my head I think.”
“I guess we all were a little” she said.
“yeah.” Said Tristram quietly.

Drinking deeply from the skin Conor had given him, he looked over at Catherine to find her staring at him.
“What?” he asked
Blinking, she shook her head “Nothing. Do you thing they’ll find Padraig and Lizzie?”
“Seems possible.” Tristram said “Dom is a wolf remember, and Ryan isn’t a bad tracker.”
“What do you think Padraig and Lizzie will do?” she asked
“I think that depends on what they’re already doing.” he said, raising an eyebrow “But I suspect Lizzie will treat it as a big joke and Padraig will be embarrassed.”

“Hey Tristram, Catherine, do you mind if I ask you something?”
Tristram jumped; he had forgotten that Damien was there.
“What?” Catherine asked
“Well hypothetically if I knew where Padraig was, would it be a good idea to tell him he’s getting stalked?”
Tristram laughed aloud “I dunno, it could be considered courteous, but do you want to run the risk of coming upon them while they are, um, occupied?” grinning widely he continued “Also you wouldn’t want to ruin the amusement that will result from this.”

Damien dropped to lay flat on his back “I guess not. I’m just so bored right now.”
“Well lets go hang at the other fire” said Tristram “I wanted to talk to my team anyways.”
“Sounds good to me” Catherine said, and they walked over to the fire around which Caleb, Abe, and George were gathered along with several members of Conor’s team. Looking around quickly Tristram grinned “Where’s Quiet at, Abe?”

Abe stared at him for several moments silently before pointing of towards the tent pitched near the teacher’s fire.
“Why’s he there?” Tristram asked “I thought you two were almost inseparable.”
Abe nodded and Caleb spoke “He’s one of the ones that got injured. Nothing real bad, just a couple cracked ribs and a cut on ‘is thigh, but the cut hit the bone so they got to keep an eye on it in case’ve an infection.”
Tristram frowned “Why didn’t he tell me he was hurt? I thought he was just frightened when he was all pale.”
“No.” said Abe “He hates to complain.”

Tristram turned and walked quickly over to the tent, inside which he found, in addition to Quiet, Ian, Sarah, and two boys he didn’t know “Quiet!” he snapped, and the boy’s eyes sprung open “I was just informed that you were injured fighting next to me and didn’t tell me!”
Grinning slightly the boy shrugged “I didn’t think I was hurt that bad. Nothing worth bothering you over sarge.” Saluting half-heartedly, he closed his eyes and resumed sleep.

Looking around, Tristram went over to sit by Sarah and Ian “So what happened to you two?” he asked, looking from one to the other.
“Sarah can’t talk right now” Ian said quickly. “Apparently her shield doesn’t stop skills, and some bandit with telepathy choked her out really bad.”
“Oh, that’s unpleasant” Tristram said “and you?”
Ian grinned “well apparently my skill reflects off things that are really shiny.” lifting his shirt he showed Tristram his heavily bandaged chest “one of them had a big mirrored shield and he was holding a doorway. I tried to slice him in half and got myself.”

Tristram shook his head “Well hopefully you learned something from that. Do you know if we actually… lost anyone?”
“Nobody died, no. other than the people in this tent pretty much everyone is unharmed except for bruises and scrapes.”
“That’s not entirely true”

Tristram spun to see Lizzie entering the tent
“You were pretty hurt” she said “or should have been.”
“But I’m not now?” Tristram said, raising an eyebrow
“Well honestly you might never have been. I couldn’t see for sure if you ever got hit, but judging by your clothes and the fact that you were completely surrounded I’d be willing to bet you were.”
“but I’m not invulnerable” Tristram said “I’ve gotten injured tons of times before.”

Lizzie nodded “Not invincible or anything, but my theory is that your skill might be a variant on mine, where instead of just ignoring wounds you actually recover from them instantly.”
“but only while I’m in the beserking state?” he asked
“Exactly.” she said “Once we’re back at the university we’re going to try some tests to see if we can establish it for sure.”
“But…” He paused Should I tell her that I wasn’t beserking, I was just scared? Tugging at his hair he sat on the end of Ian’s bed.

“Lizzie, I don’t think I’m a berserker” he said “I first went crazy when I saw the lightning man going for me again, not when I was hurt.”
“Well that just means that pain might not be your trigger” she said “it’s still very possible that you went into a frenzy.”
“But I was still normal me until after I killed the lightning user. It was as he fell down that I got fast and strong.”
“Well we can’t be sure.” said Lizzie “like I said, we’ll test once we get back to the school.”


*********************************************

Hope everyone enjoys.

Have a good week
Kieran

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.

Rynash

wow dude pretty gd

__________________
24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case - coincidence? I think not!

A-L

I agree with Rynash, pretty good.

Kittenification

It has been an awfully long time since writing appeared here, so I suppose I will probably post again in a day or two.


********************************************

Mercius yawned widely. Mehmed had awakened him much earlier than usual today, bringing him to the main hall instead of the courtyard.
“Good morning boys.” Tresivant said as he entered the room “Today I have a very special treat for you. You have been doing so well over the last few weeks that I have decided to bring you to an arena show.”
“What kind sir?” Mercius asked “Animals? Criminals? Naval?”
Tresivant laughed “Very good, child. Today’s fight’s are starting with criminals and animals, then a larger group of criminals to defeat the victorious animals, and finally gladiators against criminals.”

“Now eat” said Mehmed “We leave soon.”
Eating quickly the boys followed Mehmed out to the courtyard where he gave them each a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of leather sandals that strapped up to the knee.
“You must maintain presentability in public, as your image reflects upon Tresivant.” he said “You will stay Quiet unless directly addressed, and you will stay close to either myself or your master at all times. Now get into the cart.”

Clambering into the back of the cart, Mercius pulled the shirt on and looked about.
“Feels funny wearing a shirt again, doesn’t it?” said Tommy
“Yeah, a little” Mercius said “But it’s better than getting all burnt again.”
“At this point I don’t know that you would, bird-bones.” Said Tresivant, climbing into the front of the cart “Take us away Mehmed.”

Mehmed snapped his bullwhip out over the horses and they took off at a trot.
“It is a long ride. Perhaps you would do well sleeping some.” he said
“I couldn’t” Tommy said, before turning to Tresivant “Do you know anything about the gladiators who are fighting today?”
“I do, at least a little.”

Leaning back against the rail of the wagon he continued “There’s to be four of them, killing whoever survives out of thirty criminals before fighting each other. I know two of the gladiators personally.”
“And what are they like?” Tommy asked
“Well the first, is, or was, a Caliph on the lands near to mine, but they were taken from him when he was accused of treason.”

“You say that like he didn‘t actually commit treason.” Said Mercius “did he?”
“Never.” said Tresivant
“Actually he did.” Mehmed interjected “he told a large group of northern Legionnaires the location of a defenceless town.”
“That is true” said Tresivant “However, it was innocent. Two of the legionnaires came to him as beggars asking where the nearest place they could attain food and water was, then relayed the information he gave them to a larger troop, which entered and destroyed the town. Caliph Kidrouk felt so guilty that he didn’t even want to stand trial. He just surrendered everything he owned, and entered the arena. Said he wanted a warriors death.”

“But he’s still alive” said Mercius “he can’t have wanted it all that much.”
Tresivant chuckled “Boy, on the first day he entered the arena for a lion fight. Unarmed, and he killed all four lions. I think he just wants someone to kill him in real combat. A warriors death.”
“So does he still fight unarmed?” Tommy asked
“No” Said Tresivant “He uses an eastern blade and fighting style.”
“Fast too” said Mehmed “his skill is sensing the next action of those around him, so he’s always a step ahead of them.”

“So” said Mercius “This Caliph is a good honourable man, as well as a great fighter?”
“Certainly” said Tresivant “noble in spirit as he once was in title.”
“You said you knew two though.” said Tommy “Who’s the other?”
“He is not a man worth knowing.” Tresivant said “and if you must know of him, Mehmed knows him better than I do.”
“Mehmed?” said Tommy

“Your master is right, he is not worth knowing. You will see what a coward he is soon enough.”
“Please tell us.” said Mercius.
“Alright.” said Mehmed “But I must tell you a bit about myself first.”

“Years ago when I was not much older than you are now, all the young men from my village formed a group. We were all going to raid the farming villages just across the border Hadrian was our leader. We didn’t have any real weapons or anything, but we managed to nab a few sheep, some tools. Then eventually they sent a legion squad to deal with us. We were running from them, and he turned and shot my brother Ahmed in the stomach.”

“Of course all of us stopped to protect our fallen comrade, but Hadrian just kept running. Not only did he abandon a team-mate to save himself, he deliberately injured a team-mate to save himself. The legionnaires ended up being pretty decent to us. They gave us a meal, and tried to tend to Ahmed. He died though, and I didn’t see Hadrian for years.”

“Go on Mehmed” said Tresivant “Tell them how he ended up a gladiator, and something about how he fights.”
“Well.” said Mehmed “about fifteen years ago I ran into Hadrian again. I was a city guard in Ascariot, near the coast. In any case I was supposed to find smugglers. One day this ship pulls in, huge, new timber, pure white sails, looks like its on its virgin journey. It obviously wasn’t a smuggler, but I wanted to meet whoever captained such a fine ship, so I met him coming down the gangplank..”

“Of course I knew him instantly. He had grown his hair long, and he wore a large hat, and a sailor’s coat, but I knew that smile, that shifty smile, so friendly and charming, but it never reached his eyes. Eyes like a snake, they never show anything. As soon as he saw my face he knew I recognized him, and he ran up to me nearly weeping in feigned distress. ‘My god man, I haven’t seen you in ages, I was made a slave that night, and I have lived in the islands since.’”

“He reached to embrace me.” Mehmed continued “but I struck him to the ground and cuffed him. When I accused him of shooting my brother in cold blood he claimed that he had been shooting at the men chasing us, and he had never realized that Ahmed was hit. I took his whole crew to the prison, and was forced to endure his crying, his complaining, bargaining, for three days before news came. The Governor of Jacuston in the islands had recently commissioned a grand ship, but it had been stolen by the lead builder, a man the islanders called Hadrian Stone-eyes.”

“My father is from Jacuston” said Tommy, “He’s one of the Gov’ner’s guards”
“So I have probably met him” Mehmed said “In any case, Hadrian and all his men were sentenced to death in the arena. They were all released at once and then twenty hungry tigers were released on them. Hadrian walked out with the man who had been his first mate. He whispered something in the man’s ear, and he nodded. They turned to stand back to back.”

“Seconds later a cat leapt at Hadrian and he dropped flat, letting it bowl his partner over from behind and tear out his throat. Shouting at the cat, he managed to make it back up. Then he picked up his ‘friend’ and hid under the body until his entire crew was slain and the tigers were sated. Quietly walking over to where the box for the nobles was, he put on the show of his life. He begged, he pleaded, bargained, wept, and swore on his life, his blood, and that of everyone he had ever known that he was a good man who had been wronged by circumstance.”

“The nobles knowing nothing of his past, and being merciful people decided to grant him his life, but, thanks to the cleverness of my lord” he nodded to Tresivant “He is now a permanent Arena combatant, and for one as cowardly as him, that is nearly as bad as death, for the anticipation of death is infinitely more lasting than death itself.”

“So of the four gladiators you know” said Mercius “one is as noble as possible and the other is equally treacherous.”
“More or less” said Tresivant “I may know of the other two as well, we will see once we find out who they are.”
“A pair of slaved fighters” said Mehmed “Whiteshield and Scorpion”
“Well I’ve seen them once then.” Tresivant said “All I know is Scorpion is a brilliant spear fighter, and Whiteshield uses a tower shield and a battle-axe.”

“Sounds like a good match.” said Mehmed “Who will you be cheering on boys?”
“I dunno about Mercius” said Tommy, “but I like the sound of Kidrouk.”
“You know.” Mercius said “I think I would like one of the convicts to survive, or even win.”
Tresivant laughed “That would make for a good show, my little china dolly, but the chances of an unarmed man against four armed ones who fight for a living are slim.”
“But didn’t the Caliph have to beat such odds?” Mercius asked “If he could do it perhaps one of these criminals can.”

“Ah but when he did it there was no Hadrian to shoot him in the back as he duelled one of the gladiators.” Tresivant said “Although who knows, perhaps Hadrian will play nice now. That way his betrayal can come as more of a shock later.”

For a time, Mercius slept, leaned against the railing of the wagon. When he opened his eyes he found that they were now journeying down a crowded street.
“Mercius, you wouldn’t believe how many people there are!” Tommy said, waving at the road ahead
“And all of them want me to buy useless shit…” Muttered Tresivant “Get out of the road you pathetic salesmen” he hissed under his breath.

“Now do you remember why we don’t live here?” asked Mehmed
“As if I could forget.” Said Tresivant “I swear, the day they make vendor-hunting a legal form of recreation is the day I’ll die of exhaustion.”
“Well lets put off that rant for another day.” Mehmed said “We’ve arrived.”



**********************************************

zing.

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.

Kittenification

And here, for your reading pleasure, is some more.



*********************************************

Mercius sat quietly as they waited, watching Tommy rock back and forth on the stone bench impatiently.
“How long till they start now?” he asked.
“Any time now. In fact I believe they may have just begun.”
Down in the pit, ten men had just walked in, heads inclined. They all wore simple cloth breeches and none were armed.

The men walked to the centre of the arena floor and clustered together. After several seconds, the lions entered. Walking slowly, all twelve of the big cats paced around the men, making not a sound.
A long moment passed, then one of the men broke the huddle and ran. Immediately two lions were on him, but the rest of the men were close behind, driving them back. Rising, the man who had been attacked raised his fist and shouted something, turning and diving onto the largest male lion, a golden cat nearly as large as a horse, with a mane the colour of rust.

Wrapping his arms around the great cat’s neck, the man squeezed, crushing the life out of it slowly. The other nine men cheered and rushed at one of the bigger females, kicking and punching until she was down, before turning to face the rest of the pack.
“I reckon they have a chance” said Mehmed “especially the one that caught the lead lion. He must be a tremendously courageous man.”

“We will see” said Tresivant. “The lions still have as many as they do, and a frightened lion is much more dangerous than a hunting lion.”
As he spoke, the prisoners ran at the lioness’, scattering them. As they passed though, one man stumbled and immediately the cats were all over him, shredding his flesh.

A great cheer went up from the crowd, followed by a gasp as four of the cats stumbled and fell, seemingly dead.
“What happened?” asked Tristram “all of the ones that killed that man died somehow.”
“I would suspect.” said Mehmed “That one of those bandits has the power of poisoning, and when his comrade fell, he poisoned his flesh to kill the animals devouring him.”

The lions seemed less confident now, keeping a slight distance between them and the men. Walking smoothly forward, the man who had strangled the lead male moved into the open to stand alone. A tall, powerfully built man, he walked slowly towards the lions, seemingly without a trace of fear. As he neared them, one let out a roar, echoing of the walls of the pit and reverberating through the air. Planting his feet in the sand, the man pounded his chest and bellowed, much loader than the roar had been, and more frightening.

As the pack rushed him, he stood his ground, striking at the cats, flinging them to the sides, and finally catching one by the throat. As it yowled furiously, trying vainly to claw him to shreds as he held it at length, the man began to run, holding it in his hand. Spinning as he ran, he flung the cat directly into the wall of the pit, and it crumpled into the sand. Turning, he ran back towards the other criminals, who were beating the remaining cats soundly, although two more of the men had severed necks and one was very clearly near to death from a wound in his thigh.

“My my, this is shaping up to be an excellent match” Tresivant said “that man down there, the one who threw the lion is probably one of the strongest men I have ever seen. I really hope he gets a weapon from someone in this next round. If he does, I’m sure he’ll last until the gladiators.”

With a creak, the southern gate of the pit swung open and a new group of men ran in, twice as many as before, each bearing a weapon. Rushing the unarmed men, they scattered them, chasing them down in small groups one after another. One of the unarmed men, a small bald man, threw a fistful of sand into the face of the man who pursued him and yanked the spear from his grasp.

Meanwhile the muscular giant of a man was standing back to back with a tall, dark haired woman with a sword, and they were fending off all attackers. In a matter of seconds, the man had acquired a heavy-looking flanged mace.
“They must have known each other before they were captured” Said Tresivant “I’m certain that they’ll survive now.”

“Until the gladiators at least.” said Mehmed
“Well watching that man fight, I think they might live there as well, if Hadrian doesn’t fuck it up.”
“He’s that good?” asked Mercius
“Well he’s pretty good, but the real thing is that he seems capable of taking most things down in a single hit, and with a mace, armour won’t offer much protection against it.”

“What about the girl?” asked Tommy
“I don’t know” Tresivant said “See, she isn’t real dangerous, but she’s passable, and nobody will really want to kill her, for fear that it’ll enrage Heracles over there.”
“Heracles?”
“It’s a name from a story little lion. He was the strongest man who ever lived.”

Once all the criminals who had been unarmed were slain, the gates opened again, this time to the east and west. From the east came five immense tigers, while from the right came numerous wolves.
“This does not look good boys” said Tresivant “theres got to be nearly fifty wolves there, and those tigers are more than twice as big as the lions from earlier.”

The man that Tresivant had dubbed Heracles shouted to the criminals around him, gesturing furiously, and they began to circle up, forming a tight ring of fighters. As the wolves reached the ring, they surrounded it quickly, growling and barking. Then the tigers reached the wolves. All of the animals were left without food for three days prior to fighting, and to the hungry tigers, the wolves were every bit as edible as the humans. With a chorus of yelps, several of the wolves were brought down and dragged away from the rest of the pack.

“This will be fun” said Tresivant, as the wolves began moving towards the felines. “Wolves don’t like when things kill their friends, and they’re every bit as hungry as the tigers.”
With a howl, the largest wolf, a huge black animal rushed the tigers and the rest followed suit.
The tigers fought furiously, tearing through wolf after wolf, but the tide or fangs and claws pressed them back until they had all been completely shredded.

Meanwhile, the convicts had formed two lines of ten, on either side of the gorging pack of canines. On the signal from Heracles, both lines charged, rushing through the animals, past each other, and out the opposite sides. As they moved to charge again, many of the wolves fled, running to the far side of the arena where they paced back and forth, whimpering. The wolves that had not run were all cut down, and the convicts cheered, running back to the centre of the pit.

************************************************** *


More in a day or two.

Hope all the readers enjoy this warm weather more than I do.


Kit

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.