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Kijani was immensely relieved as Mr. Croil seemed to come back to the present. He snatched a blanket from her and started to dry himself. It seemed to take ages. Part of her wanted to help him, because he seemed to be having such difficulty. It was no wonder- his fingertips were a sickly pale blue. Hers were barely better, but at least she was alert. Helping him would mean breaking a cardinal rule, though. She couldn't touch him, not that way. It would be... unthinkable.
Even he seemed to still be aware of that, as he mumbled for her to turn away. She did so with great speed, heat rushing to her cheeks. She could still hear him shuffling and trying to get out of his clothes, which lead to all sorts of thoughts and questions that a sensible, proper young woman should not be thinking about! Especially not at night... in the dark... alone with a man who was not properly dressed. Kijani rubbed her reddened face with both hands, trying to take the warmth of her embarrassment and give it to her fingers. She didn't move, and tried hard not to think.
Mr. Croil's shivering voice pulled her out of herself, and she peeked slowly on one side to make sure he was properly covered. Once she saw that it was safe, she turned and listened to what he was trying to say. Something about blankets. A horse blanket? Why would he want such a filthy thing? Then she understood, all in a rush. “Yes, share the blanket, share the warmth! I read this in one of my novels! Stay there, just... don't sleep.” She rushed off, picking her way through the dim light and trying to find the blanket.
It took her five precious minutes, several stubbed toes and more than one splinter, but Kijani came rushing back with the horse blanket billowing behind her. It smelled like animal sweat and hay, but it was thick, wool, and most importantly, completely dry. She knelt and pulled it from her own shoulders, wrapping it around Mr. Croil quickly. “There.” Leaning back once he was fully covered, her arms went reflexively around her body as she tried to keep herself warm. “A-are you still awake, Mr. Croil? Please don't... don't rest. I heard that if you sleep when you are this ill, you stand a chance of not waking up ever again.” Her hands moved in a fidgety motion that was strangely warming.
“I really would rather you not die. So, as a request from a lady to a gentleman... don't.” She chuckled, but the noise of mirth was weakened by a bout of violent shivering. “I-if I tell you a story, will you s-ss-sss-” She let out a sneeze that racked her whole body. “Ouch. Will you stay awake?”
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Kijani was immensely relieved as Mr. Croil seemed to come back to the present. He snatched a blanket from her and started to dry himself. It seemed to take ages. Part of her wanted to help him, because he seemed to be having such difficulty. It was no wonder- his fingertips were a sickly pale blue. Hers were barely better, but at least she was alert. Helping him would mean breaking a cardinal rule, though. She couldn't touch him, not that way. It would be... unthinkable.
Even he seemed to still be aware of that, as he mumbled for her to turn away. She did so with great speed, heat rushing to her cheeks. She could still hear him shuffling and trying to get out of his clothes, which lead to all sorts of thoughts and questions that a sensible, proper young woman should not be thinking about! Especially not at night... in the dark... alone with a man who was not properly dressed. Kijani rubbed her reddened face with both hands, trying to take the warmth of her embarrassment and give it to her fingers. She didn't move, and tried hard not to think.
Mr. Croil's shivering voice pulled her out of herself, and she peeked slowly on one side to make sure he was properly covered. Once she saw that it was safe, she turned and listened to what he was trying to say. Something about blankets. A horse blanket? Why would he want such a filthy thing? Then she understood, all in a rush. “Yes, share the blanket, share the warmth! I read this in one of my novels! Stay there, just... don't sleep.” She rushed off, picking her way through the dim light and trying to find the blanket.
It took her five precious minutes, several stubbed toes and more than one splinter, but Kijani came rushing back with the horse blanket billowing behind her. It smelled like animal sweat and hay, but it was thick, wool, and most importantly, completely dry. She knelt and pulled it from her own shoulders, wrapping it around Mr. Croil quickly. “There.” Leaning back once he was fully covered, her arms went reflexively around her body as she tried to keep herself warm. “A-are you still awake, Mr. Croil? Please don't... don't rest. I heard that if you sleep when you are this ill, you stand a chance of not waking up ever again.” Her hands moved in a fidgety motion that was strangely warming.
“I really would rather you not die. So, as a request from a lady to a gentleman... don't.” She chuckled, but the noise of mirth was weakened by a bout of violent shivering. “I-if I tell you a story, will you s-ss-sss-” She let out a sneeze that racked her whole body. “Ouch. Will you stay awake?”
Even he seemed to still be aware of that, as he mumbled for her to turn away. She did so with great speed, heat rushing to her cheeks. She could still hear him shuffling and trying to get out of his clothes, which lead to all sorts of thoughts and questions that a sensible, proper young woman should not be thinking about! Especially not at night... in the dark... alone with a man who was not properly dressed. Kijani rubbed her reddened face with both hands, trying to take the warmth of her embarrassment and give it to her fingers. She didn't move, and tried hard not to think.
Mr. Croil's shivering voice pulled her out of herself, and she peeked slowly on one side to make sure he was properly covered. Once she saw that it was safe, she turned and listened to what he was trying to say. Something about blankets. A horse blanket? Why would he want such a filthy thing? Then she understood, all in a rush. “Yes, share the blanket, share the warmth! I read this in one of my novels! Stay there, just... don't sleep.” She rushed off, picking her way through the dim light and trying to find the blanket.
It took her five precious minutes, several stubbed toes and more than one splinter, but Kijani came rushing back with the horse blanket billowing behind her. It smelled like animal sweat and hay, but it was thick, wool, and most importantly, completely dry. She knelt and pulled it from her own shoulders, wrapping it around Mr. Croil quickly. “There.” Leaning back once he was fully covered, her arms went reflexively around her body as she tried to keep herself warm. “A-are you still awake, Mr. Croil? Please don't... don't rest. I heard that if you sleep when you are this ill, you stand a chance of not waking up ever again.” Her hands moved in a fidgety motion that was strangely warming.
“I really would rather you not die. So, as a request from a lady to a gentleman... don't.” She chuckled, but the noise of mirth was weakened by a bout of violent shivering. “I-if I tell you a story, will you s-ss-sss-” She let out a sneeze that racked her whole body. “Ouch. Will you stay awake?”
“This can't be the right way.”
A tall, lithe young woman in a red tunic murmured out loud. She was leaning against a tree with a worn map in her hands, turning it this way and that as if trying to change the contents. Her brow furrowed into an expression of deep thought, and her finger started to wind one of her coal black dreadlocks around and around.
“The map says ten miles from the river. We've been fifteen. I hope we didn't make a wrong turn somewhere. The last thing we need is to camp in unfamiliar woods. I still have the rash...” The woman scratched her upper arm reflexively, and looked at the large gelding that was calmly munching on some daffodils. “What do you think, Peony? Do we go forward, or try to make it back to the last town before full dark hits?” She realized she had paused, as if to wait for her steed's answer, and snickered softly to herself, shaking her head.
“I must be going mad from too much time alone. I keep expecting you to talk back.” Rubbing her horse's nose, she looked into the creature's docile eyes. “No, you're far too smart for that, aren't you? You keep your own counsel.” Unfolding the map, she looked it over once more, before folding it up and tucking it into her belt pouch. “Alright then, since it's up to me... Forward! Nothing is gained by delving into the past.” In one easy motion, she put her foot into the stirrup of Peony's saddle, and swung herself over. Settling into proper position, she took up the reins and nudged Peony's sides with her boot heels. The loyal animal nickered and started off.
Another hour of riding went by, and Kijani's worry started to wear away. She could see the signs of human now; firelight, the smell of smoke, people chattering away, animals and refuse... Yes, there was a city, alright. The forest fell away to reveal a sturdy wall of stone and wood, a nice barrier against any potential enemies. Far off in the distance, massive mountains stretched toward the heavens, gray with white-capped peaks.
After being waved in by the guards, Kijani slid from Peony's back to let her horse rest a bit, as she walked through town. Her eyes caught a carved stone sign. “Stevensdale. Finally...” Exhaling a sigh of relief, she sought the nearest inn with a stable. After paying for a few nights' stay and some meal for her horse, Kijani took time to brush down and feed Peony before going for a wash.
Even though she'd been at her new life for over five years, Kijani would admit she was likely still a bit spoiled. She hated to smell of sweat and dirt after a long stint of traveling, and she detested bathing in cold water. Even though she would do it if nothing else was available, she didn't have to enjoy it. Luckily she'd had just enough coin to pay for heated water- a small luxury for her now. In the past, it had been something that she'd never thought twice about, except to complain if the water wasn't hot enough. But then... nothing was gained by dwelling on the past. She had learned the value of warm water, a cake of soap, and a clean body.
Once she was suitably clean, she shined her leather armor. Her boots were getting worn, there was not much to be done about that. The rest of it, she oiled and polished to the best gleam she could get. Her sword got the same treatment; cleaning, oiling, polishing, and several minutes practice, just to keep her arm from getting rusty. Her blade was a strange one- or so she'd been told. It was almost the length of her arm, but light, with both edges sharp. It would not cut through a tree branch, but it could certainly shatter badly-made chainmail as if it were mere paper. Kijani's blade was made to move with her, to be agile and accurate, to strike and dance away, strike again and never be touched.
Then again, there wasn't much touching of any kind lately, was there? She hadn't seen any real action, combat or otherwise, in well over two months. Sure, there had been the wild boar in the small shire town. They'd paid her more in supplies than coin, but the boar meat had been tasty and Peony loved the local apples. She'd loved the mayor's son for a night- a decent night, but one a bit too short for her liking. Nothing interesting had happened since. No battle, no bedding, no nothing.
After laying her armor out to dry, she smoothed her spare red tunic and rust-brown pants, heading out of the inn to seek socialization. Her coin was running low, so she'd have to be easy on the drink. Local taverns were always good for something, though. Either she'd have a lead to something she could get paid for, or she could have a man worth warming her bed for a few hours. With a whistle on her lips, Kijani let the sounds of drunken jubilation lead her to the tavern.
A tall, lithe young woman in a red tunic murmured out loud. She was leaning against a tree with a worn map in her hands, turning it this way and that as if trying to change the contents. Her brow furrowed into an expression of deep thought, and her finger started to wind one of her coal black dreadlocks around and around.
“The map says ten miles from the river. We've been fifteen. I hope we didn't make a wrong turn somewhere. The last thing we need is to camp in unfamiliar woods. I still have the rash...” The woman scratched her upper arm reflexively, and looked at the large gelding that was calmly munching on some daffodils. “What do you think, Peony? Do we go forward, or try to make it back to the last town before full dark hits?” She realized she had paused, as if to wait for her steed's answer, and snickered softly to herself, shaking her head.
“I must be going mad from too much time alone. I keep expecting you to talk back.” Rubbing her horse's nose, she looked into the creature's docile eyes. “No, you're far too smart for that, aren't you? You keep your own counsel.” Unfolding the map, she looked it over once more, before folding it up and tucking it into her belt pouch. “Alright then, since it's up to me... Forward! Nothing is gained by delving into the past.” In one easy motion, she put her foot into the stirrup of Peony's saddle, and swung herself over. Settling into proper position, she took up the reins and nudged Peony's sides with her boot heels. The loyal animal nickered and started off.
Another hour of riding went by, and Kijani's worry started to wear away. She could see the signs of human now; firelight, the smell of smoke, people chattering away, animals and refuse... Yes, there was a city, alright. The forest fell away to reveal a sturdy wall of stone and wood, a nice barrier against any potential enemies. Far off in the distance, massive mountains stretched toward the heavens, gray with white-capped peaks.
After being waved in by the guards, Kijani slid from Peony's back to let her horse rest a bit, as she walked through town. Her eyes caught a carved stone sign. “Stevensdale. Finally...” Exhaling a sigh of relief, she sought the nearest inn with a stable. After paying for a few nights' stay and some meal for her horse, Kijani took time to brush down and feed Peony before going for a wash.
Even though she'd been at her new life for over five years, Kijani would admit she was likely still a bit spoiled. She hated to smell of sweat and dirt after a long stint of traveling, and she detested bathing in cold water. Even though she would do it if nothing else was available, she didn't have to enjoy it. Luckily she'd had just enough coin to pay for heated water- a small luxury for her now. In the past, it had been something that she'd never thought twice about, except to complain if the water wasn't hot enough. But then... nothing was gained by dwelling on the past. She had learned the value of warm water, a cake of soap, and a clean body.
Once she was suitably clean, she shined her leather armor. Her boots were getting worn, there was not much to be done about that. The rest of it, she oiled and polished to the best gleam she could get. Her sword got the same treatment; cleaning, oiling, polishing, and several minutes practice, just to keep her arm from getting rusty. Her blade was a strange one- or so she'd been told. It was almost the length of her arm, but light, with both edges sharp. It would not cut through a tree branch, but it could certainly shatter badly-made chainmail as if it were mere paper. Kijani's blade was made to move with her, to be agile and accurate, to strike and dance away, strike again and never be touched.
Then again, there wasn't much touching of any kind lately, was there? She hadn't seen any real action, combat or otherwise, in well over two months. Sure, there had been the wild boar in the small shire town. They'd paid her more in supplies than coin, but the boar meat had been tasty and Peony loved the local apples. She'd loved the mayor's son for a night- a decent night, but one a bit too short for her liking. Nothing interesting had happened since. No battle, no bedding, no nothing.
After laying her armor out to dry, she smoothed her spare red tunic and rust-brown pants, heading out of the inn to seek socialization. Her coin was running low, so she'd have to be easy on the drink. Local taverns were always good for something, though. Either she'd have a lead to something she could get paid for, or she could have a man worth warming her bed for a few hours. With a whistle on her lips, Kijani let the sounds of drunken jubilation lead her to the tavern.
I live!
Post going up right now. Let me know if anything's missing, or needs more explanation.
Post going up right now. Let me know if anything's missing, or needs more explanation.
Eviledd1984 said
Well Reindhert is leading Flood who was going to tell on them leads them away form the group and Nicholas wants to escape with Kat.
I see... *unsure of what to do* I think I'll leave Kijani there for now... She did go willingly after all, and doesn't have a real reason to change her mind.
Sorry... what'd I miss?
Where am I posting?
*lost*
Where am I posting?
*lost*
Sorry... what'd I miss?
Where am I posting?
*lost*
Where am I posting?
*lost*
I hope Voltin does come back. Emmeric was fun. And it'll help me decide if I wanna play Devika still or not. The two of them had a fun rapport going.
Yeah. Here. I'm taking the laptop out of the house tomorrow- apparently my time isn't my own where I live. Too many distractions... Also migraines.
Can light cause migraines? Or does it just make an already existing one worse?
Can light cause migraines? Or does it just make an already existing one worse?
I have so much to catch up on. But I've got half an idea on how to get my post in. I just have to maintain energy for longer than ten minutes at a time.
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