POOHEAD189

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

He...did not notice that she dodged the question once she expressed her gratitude. His face heated. "Of course, yeah. I'm glad too. Those woods are deadly, these days." He cleared his throat and took a big bite of his apple. He wasn't usually this tongue tied, but then again he wasn't usually eating breakfast with a foreign woman alone after having roughed up a few thugs on the road. Suddenly the dark rider entered his memory again, and he sobered up.

Andor? He had on a considering look. "I don't know, actually." he said. "I did hear that once, that the Two Rivers was apart of Andor. But that was a long time ago, no one from Andor comes here." Wasn't Andor east of here? "If you go east and make it to Whitebridge, that would take you to...light, was it Caemlyn? I just know Whitebridge would take you most anywhere. The furthest from home I've ever been would be past Taren's Ferry, and at the foot of the mountains with my friends when we were kids."

"I wish I could help you more. If you want we could go to town and ask for a map. Or the Peddlars will be here in a few days, but, the best I know is that the mountains are west and Whitebridge is east."

He lost himself in thought. "Are there other foreigners with you? A rider clad in black?"

He didn't believe she traveled with anyone else, but he didn't know how else to bring up the man without asking if she was with someone or worse, she was pursued. Then again, he had asked for Ali specifically. A bloody foreigner asking for him!
@Penny

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

"The Arad Doman..." he echoed, deep in thought. "That's near the Aryth Sea?"

He believed every word, though as he was on edge today, he wouldn't be surprised if she told him something ridiculous soon that he would also believe. Simply because if you told him yesterday what happened today, he wouldn't believe it. "You're lucky to have gotten this far, honestly." he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "They're infested with wolves this time of year, and bandits too apparently."

She certainly seemed exotic, and if his geography was correct, the Arad Doman was a nation that was across the mountains to the east. He wondered if there were roads he didn't know about that went through the mountains? Even if there were, no one who had any sense would use them because of the cursed place. This woman seemed to have gotten through well enough, however, until she was waylaid on the road this morning.

"Oh, yeah." he said, almost embarrassed. "After you ran into me they attacked. They likely have a few broken bones but I didn't do anything serious to them." At her surprised look, he added. "I'm the second best staff fighter in the Two Rivers, behind my father. He could beat anyone, though I haven't practiced against him in two winters."

"I..I don't know what happened to the third fellow, though. He had me, until something caused him to fly like he'd been thrown, and you were awake for a moment. Do you remember?" He wondered if he should mention the dark rider, but he decided one question at a time. He took this time to eat another sausage, though his maroon eyes, now visible in the sunlight through the windows, stayed intent on hers as she answered.
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Jesus!" Neil yelled, the archiac deitie's name spurting out of him like the tank shell that had nearly killed them. He had to laugh though, at Junebug closing his eyes as she closed hers. There was nothing more exciting than making out of a dangerous situation like that, particularly if they were blind to it when they did it. It was danger and excitement like that, that got Neil's blood flowing and his spirits high.

The hoverboard gently floated closer to the ground, though the odd lasbolt was thrown their way from afar, and they were still vulnerable to snipers. Neil placed his left arm forward, and held onto Sayeeda's arm with his right as a slug nearly hit them, blasting a small but noticable hole in the sand before them. "We're not out of this yet, babe!" he cried, lifting the board in front of him to cause them to turn abruptly. Sand billowed forward and he turned to the north, speeding along until he found a very high sand dune. "We need to get out of sight."

He pressed his front toes down on the hoverboard to change the pressure. Junebug didn't say anything, but she instinctively held on tighter, knowing her pilot. A wave of sand exploded under them as they caused an unmistakable ripple through the desert, heading straight for a larger, curved sand dune. "What are you doing?" she asked, excitement warring with caution in her voice. "Don't worry about it." he said, and with 3,000 pounds of force blasting under them, they crested the dune and skyrocketed into the sky. Neil screamed in triumph, echoing off the twists of the desert sands as they disappeared into the low hanging clouds above.

"What the hell?" whispered a camouflaged sniper aiming down his slug thrower rifle, knowing he was no longer able to get his quarry.

Meanwhile, Neil and Junebug were in an extremely precarious position as the adrenaline junky veritably surfed the clouds, his left hand streaming through the fluff of the water filled air pocket, moisture brimming on both of their faces as they flew. Junebug yelled and laughed. "I didn't know these things could go this high!"

"Technically they can't!" Neil cried back as they slowly drifted downwards, now miles distant and lowering out of the immense blanket of fog that hung in the sky. The landscape below them was beautiful; a farcry from the rundown, barren wasteland it seemed from sea level, and in the distance, they could see the entire impression in the mountain rock that served as Hahn's trade city. Two moons loomed above them, one vast and bright and the other distant and red.

Swiftly they descended, though as they approached the ground thrice the speed anyone would be comfortable with, they slowed and began to wobble as the hoverboard regained traction due to Neil's expert hip and footwork, and they found themselves in the desert once more, approaching the city. Neil chuckled as they sailed over the short walls and scaled the buildings with a shift of his legs, and he landed them on the roof of the apartment they had borrowed after a short trip that likely scared some locals. The roguish pilot letting out a breath.

"Now that was fun."
@Penny

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

"Uh no problem." he said, suddenly feeling almost as awkward as he had when she had bumped into him on the road. He quickly got to his feet, and it became apparent he was nearly head and shoulders taller than her. He unconsciously smoothed his hair out a bit. "I mean..." he realized he paused too long, and he sighed. "I'm sorry, this has just been a very odd day. You'd think the sun showing itself would bring a more relaxing morning." he jested, giving a smile.

The smell of freshly cooked food wafted into the foyer, and Ali's stomach rumbled quite loudly at the wonderful scent. "Oh, I made breakfast, or lunch. It's ready in the kitchen, if you want some. Please, I wouldn't feel good about myself without putting some food in your belly. You went through more than I did this morning, I merely caught the tail end of it."

He gave a her a hopeful look, and if she acquiesced he would stride into the kitchen and pull a chair out for her, water and food on the table. It was no banquet, but there was a homemade, fresh quality to it that was not served at the tower and it made the mouth water at the sight of it. A robust apple gleamed beside eggs, ham, and whole sausage links atop a plate made of darkwood, and a stout fork and knife to use for utensils.

Once she sat down, he would give a very formal bow, no doubt something both he and she was unused to. "I am Alidren Baldyr, but I go by Ali. Or Al, either way really." he said, before realizing just how odd he was probably being. He shook his head and sat down across from her. Light, he was being a fool. "Just ignore me. I don't get guests often."

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked her.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic noticed the man hadn't asked him if everything was well. Then again it was probably just the Knightly way of being concerned for the woman more than the male. He had to snicker at Camilla's reply, however. "Everything's fine." Cyrdic said to answer him. He looked to Cyrdic as if he hadn't even noticed the man was there until now. "The lady Melisende seemed very concerned for your well being, sir Beaumont."

"Truly?" Beamont replied, a light look in his eyes that spoke of approval, though obviously not personal involvement. However, he could hear the sarcasm in Cyrdic's voice, and drew himself up. "She is a fine woman, and a dutiful wife. Any man would be lucky to have her, as you are lucky, my Lord." His eyes swept to Camilla, who gave him the most rigid smile Cyrdic had ever seen. "If all is well, I will give you leave."

"Thank you, sir. It is well." Camilla asked briskly, and she went to shut the door. Beaumont did step out politely, but when he was gone, Cyrdic could smell the flower scent on the man still lingering outside of the door of a few minutes. He turned to Camilla, seeing her miserable. He had to agree, and decided on something. "Sigmar curse it, let's take a nap." he told Camilla, who looked at him like he had suggested something outlandish.

"A nap? In this place?" she asked, her accent causing her voice to raise in pitch. He scooped her up playfully, though she contested at first. "No, they just put this ridiculous thing on me!"

"Then don't you want to wrinkle it?" he asked her.

It took her a moment, but then she giggled. "True, I do." and kissed him. They settled on the bed, and slept likely. Camilla and Cyrdic regaining a bit of their stamina from the nap. For Camilla, it was a dreamless sleep. For Cyrdic, he wouldn't remember, but when Camilla awoke, she heard a very wolfish growl escaping Cyrdic's lip. On second inspection, his hair was getting thicker as well, though only his love would notice it. "Ceer-dik?" she said, poking him awake.

A snarl escaped him, and then a normal snore, and what followed was his eyes opening. "Hmmm?" he asked, looking normal as usual. She blinked, looking at him with concern. Though when she was about to speak, she saw something behind him, on the floor. She slid off the bed and went to pick up what looked to be a message, breaking the seal and pulling out a letter. With each word, her hair stood on end and it was her turn to seem bestial and feirce, and she cursed in Tilean in more ways than even Cyrdic could translate.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

It was a letter from Beaumont, or his retainer to be more precise. In flowing Bretonnian script, she read it aloud in Reikspeil, and Cyrdic's jaw set firmly. On this day at noon, he had challenged Cyrdic to a joust in the royal courtyard, for the honor of lady Contessa Camilla del La Trantio.
@Penny

Damned to the Depths

Jax leaned over the crow's nest, though he could see no one and no one could see him. He yelled despite it though. "There's a fog Capt'n!"

If he could see Markus, he'd see the mercenary swordsman rolling his eyes. He did just say to be quiet. He supposed the lookout wasn't certain if the fog effected them on the deck or just at his elevation. Markus called up as quietly as he dared. "I know, shut up!" with his hands cupped to his mouth. Due to the low light of the day even if there was no fog, it was far from comfortable. In fact, it was probably the closest thing to a waking nightmare Markus had ever experienced. The roiling cloud of wet fog seemed to threaten all of his senses, not just his sight.

"Captain?" he heard to his right, and Markus spun. It sounded like his first mate. He crept forward through the fog, keeping his sword point away from his front to keep it from poking the woman. "Calli?" he whispered into the miasma, his entire body focused on what was in front of him. As her face came into view, she had on a smirk despite her obvious state, which seemed a strange mixture of concupiscent exhaustion.

"So we're using nicknames now?" she asked.

He sheathed his sword. "I don't make you call me Captain, now do I? Even though I probably should." he said, amused.

"I'm not getting into trouble, am I?" she asked slyly. There was a strange pulse to her, somehow. As if she had another's energy that gave her far more vitality than a normal woman would have, even as one as skillful in enchantments as she. The ex-merc was about to reply when an immense shadow came into view not two paces away. At first Markus thought it was a whale surfacing, but a split second later, he saw it was one of the Blooded Axe ships about to collide with the Weathered Witch!

The ship hit them hard, sending Calliope off of her feet to hit Markus, who, despite catching her, was sent to the floor of the deck. Calliope would lift her head up to notice she was straddling Markus, and his hands were around her upperback and thigh. They were interrupted yet again, however, when another object appeared behind them through the fog. Only this was far more humanoid, and yet still immense. Markus thanked the Gods he still had his wits about him. "I think you have a knack for trouble." Markus said as she looked behind her to see the danger.

They both rolled away, Markus to the left and Calliope to the right. Where they had just been, a wooden club with metal studs in it the size of a man splintered the thick planks of the deck. The Ogre roared in frustration. Its body was proportioned like a thick man, with yellow-tan skin, and stunted, primitive features within a body that was fully ten feet tall and six feet wide at the stomach. It wore a garb of roughly stitched together trousers and a bandana caked in what Calliope and Markus sincerely hoped was dried mud.

"Don't worry, I do too." Markus said, finishing the earlier statement and taking out his sword. The blow of the club had dissipated the immediate fog, though their surroundings were still thickly obscured other than the flashes and cries of steel on steel that had erupted upon the ship. Shouting for all hands to the weapons would likely be redundant.
@Penny

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

The forest had been dark and cruel as of late, even at the end of winter, only the birds had appeared again, and they only appeared when the sun did, which was infrequent at best. In fact, this was likely the first sunlight Ali had seen in weeks. The winter had been harsh, and there had been talk of Wolves and Bears appearing in the Westwood. Wolves were rare, but he had not heard of a bear in seven winters, yet here they were, attacking livestock and men. Ali wouldn't easily forget having to fight off a small group of wolves after two sheep had been taken naught but a month ago.

Even in these forbidding times, he never expected to face more than a few roughs on the road between Edmond's Field and Taren's Ferry, though what he found first was something he could never have been prepared for in all of his life. Because out of the brush came not a wolf, bear, or thief, but a coppery skinned woman with an uncovered bosom. She hit him with all her weight, but Ali was a tall and strong man. "What?" he voiced in surprise, until he realized that an exotically attractive woman had impacted into him, and her bare breasts were against his chest.

If you later told Ali that steam had shot out of his ears, he would have believed you. His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth and he stammered, backing up with his youthful face flushed. "Wha-!? who're yo..." He suddenly realized she was covered in blood and twigs, and understood immediately that this was more of a dangerous situation than a provocative one. "Blood and Ashes," he cursed, catching her before she fell.

"Miss?" he asked, and she didn't immediately respond. "Light! Miss are you ok?" He knelt her down and let her lean on his curled legs. What was he going to do? Who in the creator was she? On further inspection, she was definitely a foreigner. Copper skinned and likely the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. He needed to cover her up, for both her and his sakes, so carefully, without his eyes focusing on her full bosom too much, he began to lace up her bodice with a pure focus. The void and the flame, his da had always said. He usually meant that for stick fighting and archery, but he supposed it was useful in many situations.

"They're coming." The woman said, her eyes opening lazily. Ali blinked, having just covered her up. "What? Who?"

Muted voices could be heard from the tree line, and the brambles began to show. What pine and leaf that had stubbornly clung to the trees this winter bounced from the movements of men approaching. When they came onto the road, they would see Mave on the ground and Al standing there, stick in hand and pack settled on the earth. The lead one grinned, his hair tied in a topknot and a dagger in his callused fist. "Boy, run along and leave us the woman."

"I'm not a boy." Ali said, stone faced and chest out. "I'm no fool either. It's not right to treat anyone this way, especially a girl. Leave now. But if you step closer, I'll kill you." Later, Ali would look back on this statement and wonder if he was really prepared to do just that. Then men certainly didn't believe him, at least after a few moments. A second man with a sword, and a third with what looked to be a makeshift farming implement was now there flanking the topknot.

Al needed to calm down and focus. Just by their faces he knew that they were going to attack. Bloodthirst was in their eyes. The man with the dagger leaped at him with an underhanded thrust, a common move his da often said inexperienced ruffians would make. He moved with little thought to strategy, so in tune was he to his staff. The top part of his walking stick banged down on the man's hand, causing his nerveless fingers to drop the knife, and before the blade had hit the ground, the flow of the staff was redirected to crunch into the assailant's nose with a thrust, breaking it.

He didn't have time to think, stepping past and thrusting once more with his staff, this time between the next one's sword and his arm as he charged. He pressed down on the arm, causing the appendage to bend and lose his stance. He was no ammatuer, and instead of continuing his movement, the bandit tossed his sword into his other hand. He left his face open however, and Al's staff cracked into his cheek bone audibly. He spun, hooking the man's leg with the bottom half of his staff and twisting it with a quick jerk, tripping him up and probably breaking his knee.

The third man was the smartest, though. He had gone around to Ali's flank, and when his back was turned, and tried to hack at him from behind until something tripped him up, sending him flying into the air as if a bear had swiped him! Ali twirled, staff at the ready to see him sail over the young man, and the woman concentrating on the thrown bandit strangely, as if she had the power to move him like a puppet. The exertion seemed to tire her out, however, for she slumped into the dirt once more.

Light, what did he just see? That couldn't have been her...

He kicked the first attacker in the face for good measure, and then gingerly lifted the woman up in his arms as if she were a babe. She was relatively small at least. He'd carried sheep back to the farm before. It was a ways back to the house, but he set off with his staff under his armpit, leaving the men groaning on the ground. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew this girl was hurt and he needed to help.

A horse whinnied in the distance, and Ali realized it was behind him. He glanced backward and saw a frightening figure, clad in a black cloak astride a black steed. Ali could barely see the bottom of his face, but he swore the man was looking right at him. "Sir?" he called, and looked to the woman in his arms, and then back to where the rider was. Only to notice that he had disappeared. Al blinked, but the rider was still gone, as if he had never been.

---

4 hours later

The oil on the cast iron pan filled the kitchen with crackles and pops as Ali finished preparing the meal he was making for himself and the woman. It was only an hour ago that they had made it home, and she had yet to awaken. Thank the light his family had left already, but even still he put her in the guest bedroom, having wiped her face, hair, and what part of the chest he was comfortable with cleaning before he went and fetched water for her. Now he was preparing food, knowing that whoever she was, she'd likely wake up hungry.

He had spent a lot of time in thought as he carried her back, and the rider kept intruding on his thoughts, because he had felt true fear from the man. Somehow, he knew the rider had meant him harm. Had hated him. Could he have been with the fellows Ali had beaten up? What was more frightening was that he recalled one other thing that made the man so horrible. Even in the morning wind, his cloak had not shifted...

he'd also come to the conclusion that the woman he'd found had to be Aes Sedai. The shawl and the agelessness to her features, along with the fact that she was a bloody foreigner that could lift men without touching them. What else could she be? He almost felt she was too dangerous to bring home, but he couldn't simply leave a woman out in the cold. Even an Aes Sedai could be helpless unconscious...he guessed. Light, he didn't even know.

There was a knock on the front door.

His da and siblings couldn't be home... Quickly he grabbed his staff and headed out of the kitchen, letting the meal cool down now that he had placed the food on the plates. At the front door, he looked out the window and saw Bran Feran, one of his boyhood friends that lived two farms down. Brown haired and a head shorter than Ali, he had a matter of fact way of saying things. Ali opened the door. "Bran? What are you doing here?"

Bran didn't speak at first, looking unsure of himself. "Ali, you need to tell me now. What have you done?"

Ali blanched, taken aback. He briefly wondered if news of the men he had fought had reached the town, but that was impossible! Could it be the woman? "Nothing, what are you talking about? I just went to Teran's Ferry for the night and came back. Why? Bran, don't laugh but you're freaking me out."

That answer seemed to cause Bran to deflate. "I believe you. Sorry, I wanted to ask. Ali, be careful. There's a...man asking around town for you."

"A rider? In black?"

"Yeah. He won't give his name, but he knows yours. No one seems to trust him, but sooner or later a Coplin will run their big mouth and he'll be on his way here."

Ali groaned in frustration. "Blood and Ashes, I saw him on the road earlier. I didn't even speak to him though, Bran. I don't know what he would want. I admit it, he scared me."

"I only saw him for a second, but he scared me too. You know you can hide at my place, right?"

Ali grinned, and this time he truly did look like a boy. "Thanks Bran, you're a good friend. You better go on though. I'll see about that, but I need to finish a few things here first." Truthfully, he would have taken his offer if it wasn't for the woman in the guest room. No need to bring her or Bran into anything, so he didn't mix the two with telling him she was there. "I'll see you later, ok?"

When his friend left, Ali closed the door and slumped, running his hands into his thick mass of hair. What was going on?
@Penny

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

Jahn cursed as Ali tossed yet another successful hand of dice. Back home his da would have whooped anyone who used that kind of language around the girls, even if it was in public and they weren't even his. A serving girl set down a few pints for them, and Ali grinned, tossing one of the crowns he had won to cool their steam. "The drinks are on me, fellas. Thanks for the chat. My family will love knowing the merchants will come early this year."

"And do they love that you're a hopeless cheat?" Filch asked, the oldest of the young crowd with a beard that hid a frog-like bowl throat, and nasty eyes that lingered on everything a tad too long. Ali wasn't in the mood for his games. "You're just mad that I come here every so often to win over your money and you lose every time. Oh don't give me that look, Jahn Holsom. You're just as bad, only you hold your tongue because you know Evelyn has a soft spot for me."

Ali wasn't usually this forthright and blunt, but these wool headed fools had been increasingly agitated as of late, and he had expected them to greet him warmly after a long winter. He grabbed his staff in his strong hand and headed out, the sun now barely peeking over the horizon. Usually he'd find a room at the inn, but at the moment he felt like walking. He would make it home, hopefully before his da and siblings went to visit his uncle Montel for a few days. They always got together just before Bel Tine. Ali used to join them, but ever since he experienced his 20th winter, he'd enjoyed the solitude of the empty farm.

The morning was crisp, and the sun's warmth had barely begun to lessen the cold of night as Ali left Taren's Ferry to head southward toward Edmond's Field, taking one of the lesser known roads to make better time. Old folk would say it brought you dangerously close to the Mountains of Mist, and Creator knows what sort of spirits haunted that dreaded area. But there was many miles of forest separating the road from the mountain, and the eldest son had taken the road many times in youthful rebellion of going against his elder's advice. What was one more trip?

He whistled with the birds. The plump little creatures hanging in the trees above him as they sang, and though he whistled a tavern tune, they almost seemed to be singing with him. He could hear the words in his head, from when he heard the song first all those years ago by his nan.

"The fields are sewn and the winter's done.
Celebrate Bel Tine and await the Sun.
Keep to your kin and love shall win.
Whistle this tune until the Dark One's gone."

He was just about to whistle the second verse, when he came upon something that would change his life forever. Or, something came upon him, more like.
@Penny

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

@Penny