Chapter One
First Meeting at a Lonely Road
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D slowed his horse from the headlong gallop it had been going at for most of the day, his long black-brown hair settling down his back, his cape calming from its flare, his senses alert. He looked almost like an alabaster and ebony statue atop an obsidian horse, for even the horse was perfectly still. He listened for a long moment.
There was someone on the road ahead of him, somewhere around the bend. There was more than just someone, actually. Shouts and exclamations came clearly to his dhampire senses, along with a quick and repetitive staccato ringing sound. He reached up with his right hand to grab the hilt of his sword then spurred his horse around the corner.
A woman was fighting a pair of Barborois, barely holding her own. She looked like she was anywhere between eighteen and twenty five years old, and whirled with the deadly grace of a blademaster.
Her clothing was torn in several places, and she was bleeding from a vicious wound on one leg, as well as several slightly more superficial cuts along her abdomen and arms. A long tear in her shirt revealed a deeply crimsoned bandage secured around her midsection- tied very roughly. The cut on her cheek was superficial, but as with all wounds in places that were that close to the bone, it bled worse than it should have.
One of the two barborois was a living whirling dervish of blades- a dozen sword-like hands whirled at the beleaguered fighter. The other was a regenerator; a hand was cut off then it grew right back. The fact that the woman was holding her own was admirable, given the odds of a human surviving such an encounter- even a Hunter- was rather slim.
A third barborois as well as two humans lie on the blood-spattered ground, the humans showing the ravages of the blade-barborois, the third barborois, appearing to have been a werewolf, seemed to have been killed by one of the other two humans. The last one standing seemed to be guarding a small bundle at her feet, Sym (as I will refer to D's Left Hand parasite) psychically shuddered when she suffered a *bad* shoulder cut to block a blow aimed for the small thing that she otherwise could not have blocked.
She fell to a knee, staff-wielding hand grabbing the wound as the sword-barborois laughed maniacally, stabbing in for the final, fatal blow. Her head snapped up and met the barborois's eyes, her piercing gaze fierce, making it start in surprise and miss its intended mark- impaling her shoulder instead of her heart. She cursed fluently and slid back off the blade, stumbling to her feet in time to block an attack from the regenerator...
D leaped in to engage the (at the moment) more dangerous of the two- the blade-barborois. The woman fighter held her own against the regenerator- even with only a single blade, her staff useless. With a final clean cut, the blade-barborois fell in two, vivisected cleanly by D's long sword- allowing him to turn his attention to the last one, who, as he headed in its direction, sent the woman's scimitar flying, disarming her.
She toppled sideways, eyes closing, breathing heavily, as D placed himself between them, using Sym to literally swallow the regenerator.
All was quiet, but for the heavy breathing of the woman behind him, and the barely-audible breathing of one of the two men who lay several feet away. Dirt crunched as the woman heaved herself to her feet, stumbling semi-blindly to the remaining alive person.
"...don't you dare... die on me... this close.... to your destination... Grove..."
D blinked, before remembering that there *was* a town nearby, a place called Natolois that had a grand total population of maybe five hundred, if even that. Well, a hundred years ago, anyway.
"You... have a baby... to live for... you idiot..."
The woman's hands began to softly glow a deep earthy green, and she carefully traced the man's wounds. She collapsed after a long moment, but the man breathed easier. Slowly, he sat up, some of the tears in his shirt showing no trace of a wound...
He looked at the woman on the ground beside him, and bolted upright, pulling her onto his lap along with the small bundle which proved to be a baby by it's crying- and he turned her face up.
"Shae? Shae! Shae, hang on! You've saved my life again, you stupid woman, when you should have just taken Abagail and run!"
He looked up, noticing D for the first time.
"Who are you? Will you please help us get to Natolois- it's not far... and she needs help..."
D nodded.
::What, you agree and he didn't even say-::
"Thank you for your help. I don't know what you did, but I do know she couldn't have beaten the barborois in her condition without considerable help. If you're wounded from this, you are most welcome to whatever help I can buy. Thank you, I probably owe you our lives."
As D took the woman in the saddle before him, the smell of her freely bleeding wounds thick on the air, the man- Grove- spoke again.
"I'm sure she would thank you as well. What is your name, stranger?"
"D."
The woman, Shae, stirred in front of him, groaned softly, and was still. Grove got onto the only surviving horse, and the two galloped off, Grove leading.
First Meeting at a Lonely Road
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
D slowed his horse from the headlong gallop it had been going at for most of the day, his long black-brown hair settling down his back, his cape calming from its flare, his senses alert. He looked almost like an alabaster and ebony statue atop an obsidian horse, for even the horse was perfectly still. He listened for a long moment.
There was someone on the road ahead of him, somewhere around the bend. There was more than just someone, actually. Shouts and exclamations came clearly to his dhampire senses, along with a quick and repetitive staccato ringing sound. He reached up with his right hand to grab the hilt of his sword then spurred his horse around the corner.
A woman was fighting a pair of Barborois, barely holding her own. She looked like she was anywhere between eighteen and twenty five years old, and whirled with the deadly grace of a blademaster.
Her clothing was torn in several places, and she was bleeding from a vicious wound on one leg, as well as several slightly more superficial cuts along her abdomen and arms. A long tear in her shirt revealed a deeply crimsoned bandage secured around her midsection- tied very roughly. The cut on her cheek was superficial, but as with all wounds in places that were that close to the bone, it bled worse than it should have.
One of the two barborois was a living whirling dervish of blades- a dozen sword-like hands whirled at the beleaguered fighter. The other was a regenerator; a hand was cut off then it grew right back. The fact that the woman was holding her own was admirable, given the odds of a human surviving such an encounter- even a Hunter- was rather slim.
A third barborois as well as two humans lie on the blood-spattered ground, the humans showing the ravages of the blade-barborois, the third barborois, appearing to have been a werewolf, seemed to have been killed by one of the other two humans. The last one standing seemed to be guarding a small bundle at her feet, Sym (as I will refer to D's Left Hand parasite) psychically shuddered when she suffered a *bad* shoulder cut to block a blow aimed for the small thing that she otherwise could not have blocked.
She fell to a knee, staff-wielding hand grabbing the wound as the sword-barborois laughed maniacally, stabbing in for the final, fatal blow. Her head snapped up and met the barborois's eyes, her piercing gaze fierce, making it start in surprise and miss its intended mark- impaling her shoulder instead of her heart. She cursed fluently and slid back off the blade, stumbling to her feet in time to block an attack from the regenerator...
D leaped in to engage the (at the moment) more dangerous of the two- the blade-barborois. The woman fighter held her own against the regenerator- even with only a single blade, her staff useless. With a final clean cut, the blade-barborois fell in two, vivisected cleanly by D's long sword- allowing him to turn his attention to the last one, who, as he headed in its direction, sent the woman's scimitar flying, disarming her.
She toppled sideways, eyes closing, breathing heavily, as D placed himself between them, using Sym to literally swallow the regenerator.
All was quiet, but for the heavy breathing of the woman behind him, and the barely-audible breathing of one of the two men who lay several feet away. Dirt crunched as the woman heaved herself to her feet, stumbling semi-blindly to the remaining alive person.
"...don't you dare... die on me... this close.... to your destination... Grove..."
D blinked, before remembering that there *was* a town nearby, a place called Natolois that had a grand total population of maybe five hundred, if even that. Well, a hundred years ago, anyway.
"You... have a baby... to live for... you idiot..."
The woman's hands began to softly glow a deep earthy green, and she carefully traced the man's wounds. She collapsed after a long moment, but the man breathed easier. Slowly, he sat up, some of the tears in his shirt showing no trace of a wound...
He looked at the woman on the ground beside him, and bolted upright, pulling her onto his lap along with the small bundle which proved to be a baby by it's crying- and he turned her face up.
"Shae? Shae! Shae, hang on! You've saved my life again, you stupid woman, when you should have just taken Abagail and run!"
He looked up, noticing D for the first time.
"Who are you? Will you please help us get to Natolois- it's not far... and she needs help..."
D nodded.
::What, you agree and he didn't even say-::
"Thank you for your help. I don't know what you did, but I do know she couldn't have beaten the barborois in her condition without considerable help. If you're wounded from this, you are most welcome to whatever help I can buy. Thank you, I probably owe you our lives."
As D took the woman in the saddle before him, the smell of her freely bleeding wounds thick on the air, the man- Grove- spoke again.
"I'm sure she would thank you as well. What is your name, stranger?"
"D."
The woman, Shae, stirred in front of him, groaned softly, and was still. Grove got onto the only surviving horse, and the two galloped off, Grove leading.