A Pain and a Murder
The reek of battle hung in the air, another mark showing the massacre that took place here. Bodies lay everywhere, the ground way churned and lacquered with the blood of innocent people. Alanna had been summoned along with a troop of the Own to a neighbouring village. A group of raiders had entered the town. That was when the brave Tortallans, lead by Sir Raoul and a Lady Knight cantered swiftly into the desecrated village, and right into a trap.At first the Tortallans managed to protect the peasants, but there numbers were scant, nearly 3 to 1 and swiftly Alanna and the Own succumbed to their sheer velocity.
Alanna lay on the ground; a gapping wound lay from navel to her knee, revealing a mass of blood and chalky bone. In plain chain mail and leather, Sir Lady Knight of Pirate's Swoop and Olau born of Trebond, Champion to his Majesty of Tortall, lay amongst many others, barely alive.
Some survivors, bandaged and worn picked their way through the mess,
turning over the occasional body, checking for a pulse, but many
seemed to have wandered into the grasp of the Dark Lord. It was a new
member of the own, known as Dom that turned over the small lean form
of what seemed to be a knight. He grimaced at the sight of the man's
wounds, deep and most likely filthy, cutting down to bone and probably
his liver. Hearing a muffled moan Dom instinctively removed the man's
helmet. A gasp escaped his lips when he saw the long flaming locks
that cascaded across the 'mans" shoulders, the small silver ear bobs
and unnerving violet eyes that were covered swiftly by sunken lids.
Alanna woke up in a large Canvas tent , it smelled like strong
disinfectants and warm linen. Taking in a deep breath she went pale
with pain , and fingered a thickly wrapped bandage that covered her
ribs all the way to her knee.She starred at the white ceiling , now
darkened to a somber grey and thought of the goings on of Pirate's
Swoop.
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The cloaked figure galloped, obviously in a hurry. Clumps of sweat
hung of the already heat thickened coat of the stallion being ridden.
They had stopped only once on the day-night journey to Mangarm's
creek, which had been recently attacked. The rider could now make out
the torch light of the healer's tents. Another group of the Own had been sent to seek news of the attack.30 or so lived, the bandits had fled, only after looting the village and the warriors' supplies .The rider cantered over the grassy hill. The horse was but a blur going down, at full speed, gravity helping its course. Jumping from his horse, cloak blown up like a wave against rock by the gusting wind he made his way to the healer's tent , his gaze searching for the redhead, not knowing if she lived. Muffled moans and mutters came from the bed, a few snores as most injured slept only because of the fever .Alanna the lioness was easy to find, her hair tempered like blood soaked copper glinted in the candles dieing flame. The Man stood over the cot, starring at the solemn, sleeping figure. He reached towards his belt, and unsheathed a dagger. It glinted ever so, cool and rancid looking in the soft linen tent. Pointing it towards the wounded figure he moved forward.
You may have noticed this is an older chap combined , don't worry
fresh new and EXCITING ones are coming up but same goes this time
,!!!!! 5 REVIEWS!!!! and I repost .
The reek of battle hung in the air, another mark showing the massacre that took place here. Bodies lay everywhere, the ground way churned and lacquered with the blood of innocent people. Alanna had been summoned along with a troop of the Own to a neighbouring village. A group of raiders had entered the town. That was when the brave Tortallans, lead by Sir Raoul and a Lady Knight cantered swiftly into the desecrated village, and right into a trap.At first the Tortallans managed to protect the peasants, but there numbers were scant, nearly 3 to 1 and swiftly Alanna and the Own succumbed to their sheer velocity.
Alanna lay on the ground; a gapping wound lay from navel to her knee, revealing a mass of blood and chalky bone. In plain chain mail and leather, Sir Lady Knight of Pirate's Swoop and Olau born of Trebond, Champion to his Majesty of Tortall, lay amongst many others, barely alive.
Some survivors, bandaged and worn picked their way through the mess,
turning over the occasional body, checking for a pulse, but many
seemed to have wandered into the grasp of the Dark Lord. It was a new
member of the own, known as Dom that turned over the small lean form
of what seemed to be a knight. He grimaced at the sight of the man's
wounds, deep and most likely filthy, cutting down to bone and probably
his liver. Hearing a muffled moan Dom instinctively removed the man's
helmet. A gasp escaped his lips when he saw the long flaming locks
that cascaded across the 'mans" shoulders, the small silver ear bobs
and unnerving violet eyes that were covered swiftly by sunken lids.
Alanna woke up in a large Canvas tent , it smelled like strong
disinfectants and warm linen. Taking in a deep breath she went pale
with pain , and fingered a thickly wrapped bandage that covered her
ribs all the way to her knee.She starred at the white ceiling , now
darkened to a somber grey and thought of the goings on of Pirate's
Swoop.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
The cloaked figure galloped, obviously in a hurry. Clumps of sweat
hung of the already heat thickened coat of the stallion being ridden.
They had stopped only once on the day-night journey to Mangarm's
creek, which had been recently attacked. The rider could now make out
the torch light of the healer's tents. Another group of the Own had been sent to seek news of the attack.30 or so lived, the bandits had fled, only after looting the village and the warriors' supplies .The rider cantered over the grassy hill. The horse was but a blur going down, at full speed, gravity helping its course. Jumping from his horse, cloak blown up like a wave against rock by the gusting wind he made his way to the healer's tent , his gaze searching for the redhead, not knowing if she lived. Muffled moans and mutters came from the bed, a few snores as most injured slept only because of the fever .Alanna the lioness was easy to find, her hair tempered like blood soaked copper glinted in the candles dieing flame. The Man stood over the cot, starring at the solemn, sleeping figure. He reached towards his belt, and unsheathed a dagger. It glinted ever so, cool and rancid looking in the soft linen tent. Pointing it towards the wounded figure he moved forward.
You may have noticed this is an older chap combined , don't worry
fresh new and EXCITING ones are coming up but same goes this time
,!!!!! 5 REVIEWS!!!! and I repost .