Completed [Foot of Cobalts] Upon a sharp edge

[Fallon]

55th Fall 513 AV

They called themselves “The Brutah’s”, and were little more than a small ragtag team of men who wished to live outside of the rules of the knights and the city. Seven men, all surviving nestled within the deep grooves that clawed up the cobalts. A shelter within the rocks and trees and a near blind spot from those travelling up and along. And so far, not much else had happened. Five of them had returned back to the trees, hunting and looking for game, whilst the remaining two – one of which she recognised as ‘Fatty’ from a previous day – kept a watch on her. It was clear there was no real intention of killing her, at least not yet. They seemed to thrilled with the idea of potentially selling her off to another.

But why the petch were they waiting around for? Did they have no common sense?

Fallon inhaled deeply. Her hands bound and her weapons stripped from her, she had little choice but to wait around. Sitting herself up against the worn down stake, the girl surveyed the camp, eying those who dwelled there with careful thought. Rushing an escape would be futile, more so with her head in the current state it was in. Sore and prone to leaving her disorientated if she moved too quickly. A bad combination for someone who was trying to get out of danger. Then of course there was the issue of equipment, she had already seen it teasing her from the other side of the camp and out of reach. Least it was for her physical form. Her projection on the other hand was another issue to deal with.

She gave a wince as she straightened and clicked. Projection, that was an idea that managed to rise from the pits of her mind on many an occasion. But with her current state even she was not sure how well she would be able to perform. Her head hurt, her mind feeling as if it was splitting in two. No, before she got there she would need to clear her thoughts and adjust herself. She needed to find some level of understanding and awareness. She crossed her legs. Now she was caught, there was no use in panicking, least not too much. It would do her little good now. She inhaled, drawing in the cool air, the hot breath escaping as plumes. Clearing the mind was the first task, and a hard one at that. The second would be seeing if her magic was still available to her, or if it would prove too much of a strain. After that would be formulating a way out.

Letting her eyes close, she descended into a deep black. Colours gave a swirl beneath her lids, her mind swirling with thoughts and worries. Where were the knights? Where was she? What could she do? The mental hand brushed them aside. No, she could not think about that at present, other things were more important. Blocking out the noise was a hard past time, the gentle hum of voices in the background, the distinct scent of wood smoke upon the air. She had to dull the stimuli, including the distinct pain in her head. At least it had eased off from when she had first come round to it. But, it was still very present.

Rolling her shoulders the best she could, the girl inhaled. She kept herself aware, the thoughts rising up like fire only to once more be pushed down. She could not let them dominate her thoughts, not yet at least. The cool wind caressed her cheek, her form shirking slightly to it in response. Her legs shifted as she found her position changing to one of slightly more comfort, but her eyes remained sealed shut. She followed her breathing, the rise and fall of her breast, the acceptance that it was indeed there. It gave a wander, the trickle of thoughts and feelings luring back in and to that of the city. Was anyone looking for her? Would any one even notice that she was gone?

[Fallon]

The thought was pushed aside once more, her head entering a state of lull bit by bit. She did not think, she simply drifted, the inner side of her mind drifting past. Her mind gave a turn, and then fell deeper and deeper, colours swirling and forming into shapes in her mind. Something snapped, and her head instinctively turned to it. There was the hum of voices, the words of the bandits once more reaching her. There was a moment of regard, before once more she drifted back down into the recesses of her mind and away from the world.

What is my current state? came the hovering thought in her mind. Her head gave a throbbing pulse in response, an acknowledgement of the pain only being noted. But she turned her attention to elsewhere. Her skin gave a prickle, goose bumps rising. The muscles contracted, a gentle wriggle of the toes, arms tensing then relaxing. She felt the dulled aches of her ankles and shins, the small snags and bruises she had accumulated across her limbs. Her shoulders gave an impulsive tense, and promptly calmed once more. Her lids gave a flicker, the question being answered for her. She needed a few bells of rest, a few moments of not worrying and a chance to recuperate.

Of course, right now her current situation was far from a state of bliss. She sunk deeper, the colours returning once more, the space of her mind warping and changing. It formed into her own sanctuary, her own mental space away from the world. And whilst she existed there and drifted to and fro, undisturbed and in a state of temporary peace and understanding. She needed to bide her time, to rush would put her in a state of worse danger – if that was even possible.

It was a loud clatter that pulled her out. Eyes flared open, wide almost as if shocked. How long had she been gone? A few ticks, chimes or longer? Did it matter? Her pair of watchers did not seem to think much of it. She was their prisoner after all, for whatever reason that was. Perhaps they were considering selling her on or, perhaps, something much worse. She gave a blink, the bright light of the sun greeting her, the occasional perplexed look from one of her two watchers. They were hovering over the fire, the bubbling pot above the flames as she stared back. She turned away, chin leading her down to the side. There was only a flicker of a glance as Fatty came over. He gave a prod with his toe.

”How does it feel lass?” he gave a sneer, ”To know that your precious knights aren’t gonna save you?”
Fallon’s brow rose, pupils turning to look at him from the corner of her eye. She gave him a moment of regard, as he continued, ”To know that no one gives a damn about your little hind, and if you’re dead or alive. Just another bunch of sword waiving petchers with no back bone. Oi! Talk back to me.” She gave a sigh, followed by a click of her neck. What a pain. A hand grasped her by the collar of her shirt, and dragged her up to her feet with ease ”I could gut you like a pig right now. Acting all high and mighty in front of us. You’re shyke-”
”Oi, leave off her big guy. More value to us alive. She’s got a pretty face, plus she has that shiny mark on her hand,” the other remained by the fire, prodding the flames and wood with a stick, ”You heard what the others said. All she has to do is stay calm and she’ll stay in one piece. Ain’t that right?” Fallon turned her eyes to him, but said nothing. There was nothing to say to them that would change anything. Being shoved back down to her knees she watched Fatty storm back to his position with a sour tone in his voice, ”Why’d you stop me Mac?”
“Because it isn’t worth the time.”

Adjusting herself where she sat, Fallon gave a look around, her head glancing over her shoulder on occasion at her bindings. Her wrists gave a squirm, testing the tension before once more returning. There was not much give, but even she knew that it would be possible to loosen them with some careful focus and concentration. And judging by the status of her guards, it would no doubt be largely unnoticed by them. But now was not the right time, not with both of them being armed and it being the hours of daylight. She gave a sigh, eyes turning up to the sun. Still, a little practice would allow her to judge her abilities. Inhaling deeply she returned to her cross legged position, shoulders rolling forward and relaxing.

[Fallon]

There was no rush, no need to hurry things along. She inhaled deeply, focusing upon her djed and her arms. Imagining the weave that held them there she drew down her mind, her brow creasing as she plucked at the strings. They gave a tremble, the astral form quivering, and the distinct pain upon her head slowing her down. She would need to push through that though, carefully and cautiously. This was no time for slipping up. Her head gave a turn, the threads of her astral surfacing in her minds eye. They reverberated, a tremble of tension as she gently pulled and tugged. Her jaw tensed and eased.

The first thread fell, a gentle quiver of the arm. She teased at the others, gently pulling and unstitching, the weave that held the limb in place falling free. It pulled gently, the energy flowing free, the limb falling limp. She gave a wince, the numbness taking hold of the flesh, the icy grip of nothingness ensnaring it whole. She gave a blink, the ethereal hand creeping up her face and touching her cheek. There was a sense of relief, pleased that she could call upon that power. However, the strength of it was still for her to determine. Sending it gliding forth she stretched it out, the digits patting the ground and snaking along to the fire several feet away. So far, the bandits had not noticed anything they were too consumed with tending to the broth they were watching over.

Her teeth gritted, nostrils flaring as she looked on. She caught the sight of her bow and armour, thrown haphazardly before one of the canvas tents. Her astral hand gave a stretch, reaching further forward them. She just had to be able to reach out and touch right? To be able to grasp and pull them towards her. No matter what.

She felt the strain, the limits of the astral trembling as the tips caressed the cold steel. She gave a longing look, the palm of the left reaching out to try and grasp at it. It crumbled and fell short. Shoulders slumping she released a sigh, the astral resting dully upon the floor. Teeth gave a grit, her eyes turning to give a glare to the bandits. If only she was just a little closer, that final grasp would not be beyond her. Her nostrils flared, her head turning as she heard the signs of movement from just beyond. Mac gave a rise to investigate, hand going to the dagger upon his belt as he investigated. There was the hum of voice once more, the greeting between men as the bandits once more returned. Game hung on their belts, a string of dead rabbits waiting to be seen to.

There was a quick eying from one of them – a broad and thick set man with a mono brow – before he sorted and threw the creatures down next to the fire. She watched them work, seven men all understanding one and other. They knew how their partners worked, how each could do one thing whilst another had a specific skill set. And it was no doubt due to this that they had yet to fall beneath the ensnarement of the knights. Or perhaps they already had, she did not know. Nor would she particularly ask either, it was not her business either. She caught a glimpse of grunter eyeballing her with his bow in hand, before he carried on. But there was eyes upon her, ever watching, ever looking his own way.

Mac.

It was with great care that she pulled the astral hand back, the rough earth beneath her palm, halting the moment a set of feet would get in the way. There was a look to the floor, eye averting and refusing to meet his. Especially with that slightly hungry look she got from him. The ethereal gave a tremble, growing steadily heavy by the tick. It caressed the rock, digits enjoying the moment of freedom before it returned to its imprisonment. From there, the threads would be aligned and the astral would be weaved together once more. There was a quick glance up as Mac came over, brow lifting as he bent down to her level.

[Fallon]

”So tell me why did a little lass like you, come for a long walk into the bronze woods,” He scratched at his chin, ”Got to be a tale behind it. Little squires like you don’t generally do things without a reason.”
She gave only a glare back, swallowing the bubbling worry growing from within, ”Like I would tell you.”
“Oh, come on lass,” his arms folded, ”Can’t a man make conversation with his captive? Now tell me, why were you in the woods. Alone.”
Leaning away, she gave a wince, the threads of the astral pinching as she tried to realign them, ”No reason.”

Laughter once more filled the air, the man with a mono brow letting out a healthy snort of disbelief. There was a grunt, with Mac frowning at her, ”You know none of us believe that right? Come on how, play fair with us now. Else…well…”
“Tell us where the petching Knights are!” demanded one of them. She gave a flinch away, knees rising up between them both as she squirmed. He gave a tut, ”Who do you think is gonna save you now? The Knights? They don’t have a petching clue where we are, and we sure as well not gonna let them know either. And don’t petching think you’re gonna escape either…” Defiance came after that, chin lifting to look him in the eye. Nostrils flared, pupils sharpening to stare back. ”You know, there’s something funny about you,” he waggled his finger, ”I’d expect you to be spouting off about the justice of the Knights ‘nd peace by now. But here you are, near silent as the grave.” he shook his head, his head turning slightly. She felt the tremble of the under growl, the lying snarl she tried to keep down and locked away. Why now of all times did it have to rise up? That raw instinct, ”Well, ain’t that interesting.” She gave a burn as he walked away, shaking his head ”Make sure to keep the little lass watered, gonna need her alive if we’re gonna… well…”

When water did come it came in trickles, bitter tasting but quenching her for the meanwhile. She gave a gasp, followed by a blink, the occasional poke and tease of food in her general direction. Just to keep her ‘alive’. And so the day continued like this, a slow arduous process of her remaining tied up and set to observe. Of course the sneering comments came her way, the close state for comfort. But it was Mac every time that dropped the reminder on their heads as to who she was. Shoulders rolled, forcing down a growing impatience from within. The calling of the wild was in the air, her mind set to the craving of answering it. Not yet though, she had to wait a while longer. Life was balanced upon a fine edge. To act too soon would spell her demise, too late the same fate would occur. She inhaled deeply, eyes turning to the darkening autumn sky. Soon. Soon it would be time.

The woods were alive, a silent audience watching the camp with interest. And as the Bandits continued to go about their business did she begin her planning. Her first part was freeing herself from her bindings. The second was acquiring her equipment once more. Without it she would be useless and an easy target. And finally it would be escaping into the night – preferably undetected. A howl echoed out from beyond, a cry into the setting sun. The woods was alive alright, more alive than she could ever imagine. Her eyes slid shut, her head bowing. She needed her strength, she needed her energy. It was to be a long night.

[Fallon]

It was a firm prod that awoke her from her dazed state. The chill of the night was upon her flesh, her mind partially blurred and distorted by her dozed state. There was a second prod, her eyes blinking open in response. She gave a dazed stare before her, a warm tongue peeking out to lick her upon the cheek. There was a grunt, shoulders rolling, her eyes turning up to the white snout. She breathed, ”Orvin?”

The white wolf placed his large head upon her a quiet whine hitting her ears. Her attention darted to the camp, eyes looking to the dying fire and the huddled bodies around curled up and sleeping within their tents. Forcing herself up right she gave a scan, checking and making sure that all was well. There was a pause, a shudder as she pushed back the chill once more. Petch it was cold at night. She gave a tug on her bindings, low firm whisper to Orvin to tell him to stay in place. The wolf gave her a questioning glance, and a slow pad to behind her, his ears cocked and ready. She dared to think where he had wandered to in the day, or what the beast had experienced.

But he was here now. Her friend, her companion, her ally. And that was all that mattered. She inhaled deeply, calling once more upon her djed swelling and bubbling beneath. She knew she could do it. She had to do it. Her fingers gave a twitch, her skin prickling as she lured and pulled the threads free once more. She felt the weave, the turn and pull of strings. Her neck clicked, her left arm shaking before suddenly it dropped limp. The digits gave a turn, flexing in the still night air. There was a hesitant glance over her shoulder as she gave a pull at her bindings, the ethereal hand finding the knot that bound it all together. Teasing it open she gently pulled, slowly and gradually. Her head however continued to look back and forth between those asleep, the wolf and her bindings. She slid the loop of the rope free, her right hand gently pulling. It gave a bit, yet it was not done. She inhaled deeply, her pulse rising. The nagging worry of being caught was an issue, but that was something she would have to face head on.

There was no going back from now on.

Testing it she gave a pull at the bindings once more, feeling it slip free from her wrists. A sigh of relief, a flex of the stiff joints within. She let her astral snake its way back, the ribbons binding and tying up within. There was more of a rush, the stringing and pulling of the weave left the limb heavy and stiff. Her fingers spasmed, stiffening up and slowly relaxing. Willing the fingers to open, she felt the delay, the underlying ache consuming the muscles within. Nostrils gave a flare a deep resounding grunt escaping. There was only a glance to Orvin now, her lips twitching to speak in a low, husky tone, ”You ready Orvin?”

She placed a shaky foot beneath her, a steady rise as she looked about the camp. A hesitant foot went forward, her form low as she stepped on through the fire lit surrounds. There was a careful step over a rope, a tip toe around the pots and pans. Her numb hand hooked onto the strap of a water skin, digits slowly creasing round it and reeling it close. Lips pursed into a thin line, her concentration pouring into making as little sound as possible. Her right arm stretched out, sheepishly grasping the leather armour first and snapping it back. She squirmed an arm through the holes and quickly donned it, fingers fumbling and stumbling at the buckles. Her quiver was next, the bow quickly being pulled across her chest in place. Her reluctant fingers barely managed to loop the cord of the water skin around her belt. And then there was the weapons themselves.

Gingerly she took up the tulwar, a gentle careful slide of the steel into is scabbard. Air escaped her lungs, a sigh of relief that she had come this far. All that was left was the kukri. Lips gave a purse, her hand reaching out carefully and to take it by the hilt. Her left hand clenched, the distinct sensation of nerves crackling beneath her skin. Her eyes gave a water, her right trying to pull the Kukri towards her. She gave a glance back to Orvin, the wolf eager to move on with the way he pawed the ground and looked at her.

And then it came.

[Fallon]

”Oi! What the petch you think you’re doing?” She froze and cocked her head towards the sound. She heard the growl from Orvin, the rise of an alarm from the bandit who had spotted her calling out into the sky. There was mumbles of confusion, the stirring camp of the sleepers. She grasped the kukri tightly, the rough hand reaching out to grab her. A wild slash, a firm shove at him on her numbed arm before she darted away into the darkness. Orvin followed behind, keeping up with her mad run.

There was a stumble in the dark, her kukri barely finding where it belonged in its sheath. Alarm rang through the woods, the call for a man hunt in the air. She was little more than prey to them now. Someone that should be put down. She broke off from Orvin, toes pressing the earth as she slid her way down the slope, the glowing light of the moon guiding her steps. Blood pumped, the adrenal rose as a wild call. Instinct begun its consuming as the men made their chase. Teeth gritted, her mind sent spinning as she gave a tumble and a fall. The glowing torch light hovered above her, her form springing up.

No one will save you now. No one will answer the call.

She felt the wilds close in around her, the suffocating trees closing in. Her mind blurred, lungs burning as the darkness warped. Her form dipped behind a tree, her good hand drawing the tulwar. Petch, she should not have rushed trying to realign her astral. Steel hissed in the darkness, her back pressed upon the bronze bark of the tree. The voices were louder, their torches aflame in the night. It was what betrayed them in the end.

”I found her! I found the little bitch!” She pulled away from the tree, the announcement forcing her into animation. There was no holding back now, they were going to keep on hounding her until she dropped down. She had to fight, for in her current mindset hiding was no longer an option. Steel met steel, her form crumpling back in fright. She watched the glowing torches above the line, the rushing steps of men through the undergrowth. She pushed back the swinging hand axe. She raised her foot, the sole of it meeting the groin of the man. Not that it slowed him down much.

The blade sung through the air, her form contorting as the torch was thrusted in her direction. She gave a hiss, the tulwar lashing out in response. The keen edge hacked through the torch, sending the flame spiralling off into the branches of the undergrowth. It rested there, the heat licking at the leaves and chasing away the damp. The blade met the shaft of the axe. The stiff left arm was swung round, her torso used as a point of pivoting and motion. Knuckles met flesh, a crunch of the jaw and the dulled pain coursing through her knuckles. Her form was fluid, the tip carving round and slicing the air, the bandit forced into backing off. She leapt at him, tip biting through the cold her eyes set upon her target.

A wild nature took hold. The years of civility being stripped away in an instant. The tulwar thrusted forward , the keen edge piercing into flesh. Her knee pressed into his breast, the full blunt force of weight behind her. There was no thought, other than the simple removal of them. To force them into leaving her and the bronze woods alone. For herself, for the people and for all of those who dwelled in there within its trees. For enough was enough. The tip met flesh, a wild cry escaping her lungs. The brute was upon the floor, her form tumbling after him. There was a gurgle and a screech, the echoing footsteps and the call to hurry in the distance. She felt the blood upon her hands, the world slowing behind a wall of noise. Her left planted itself upon his torso, fingers stretching out, her right hand grasping tightly onto the hilt.

[Fallon]

Her teeth bared, a trilling growl forming in the back of her throat. Eyes turned and burned, the shadow of Orvin passing behind her. The wolf gave a growl, teeth bared and ready to fight. The tulwar pulling free she gave a turn to the sound, shoulders rolling low, and a long moment of regard to the man beneath her. It was a shame really, a life for a life. But what would have happened if she had done nothing? She would have been butchered herself. A hungry look turned to the first to emerge, staring at her then down to the blooded corpse. She wiped her hand across her jaw, eyes wide and challenging. Behind her Orvin stood, defiantly standing ready against her foe. He gave a snort, teeth baring the hot steam escaping. She took a step away, her stance changing and ready to fight. A hiss cracked through her lips, the features framed within the glowing light.

”You’re no squire!” One of them shouted, ”You’re a wildling! A freak! A petching freak!” Her lip curled into that of smirk, eyes staring down upon them with an almost bestial hunger. A snarl erupted, the scent of burning leaves wafting into the air. She gave only a point with the tulwar, her form lowering. Knees bent, her arms out wide as she weighed up the man. He fumbled for his sword, a flash of fear upon his face as she charged him. A mighty howl was upon her lips, the echoing snarl of Orvin from behind. The pair were upon him, her left hand open and smothered in the blood of her last victim. He gave a scream as her left hand pressed against his face, before she ripped on past. A silent warning, her mark having been made. Feet became light, limbs fluid as she disappeared into the darkness. She gave a weave round, the taste of blood in her mouth once more. The tulwar was slid away, her form dipping into the shadow once more. She laid in wait, eyes peering out from the darkness, her soft features caught within the moonlight, the streak of red on show.

The men shouted out, gathering together and then scattering to the wind. The wild hunt was on, but not to regain their prisoner, but to gain vengeance. Her leg gave a twitch, her mind forced into steeling. She smelt the smoke on the air, her eyes turning to see the remains of the torch leave its mark. She gave a hiss, her mind swirling as she tried to gain some comprehension of herself. What was wrong with her? There was a distinct grasp upon her core, a sickness that snaked its way up to her throat. Eyes snapped away, burning away into the darkness.

But they were going to kill her. She would be dead if she did not fight back. Orvin released a growl, his white form moving and swaying forward in the darkness. It was time to move on. It was time to fight back. She gave a duck through the thicket, form low, steps light. She stepped into the long shadow of a tree, the rage turning within. They would not rest until she was found, she knew that. Her hand fell to the kukri, and then to her other weapons. The hunt had begun, she had her tools, she had Orvin and she had the echoing watch of the wilds. They were clear targets to pick off with their torches, the glowing light made them stand out with ease. And cloaked in shadow she was in her element. The nature closed in around her. Pulling at her armour buckles, she ensured it was secure and tight. She needed to reach her peak, and reach it fast to those who found her.

A hiss escaped, the signs of movement beyond. She could smell the blood in the air, the taste of bitterness upon her tongue. She slipped out and across the ground. Her form low, her hands touching and pushing the branches to one side. She no longer thought as a squire. She no longer thought on the ideals matched by that of the order. The hunt lived in her veins. To reach out and grasp the world tightly within her grasp. To stand up and face off her adversities with all the courage in her. No matter the cost.

For now it was kill or be killed.

”Let the hunt begin.”

[Radiant]

Fallon :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+1 XP
Intimidation	+1 XP
Meditation	+1 XP
Projection	+2 XP
Weapon: Kukri	+1 XP
Weapon: Tulwar	+1 XP
Brawling	+1 XP
Stealth	+1 XP
Running	+1 XP
Acrobatics	+1 XP
Wilderness Survival	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Bandit Group: The Brutah's

Taken Captive By The Brutah's

Projection: Freeing Bound Hands

Loots

Notes :

Scary Fallon? More like Awesome Fallon!

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.