Flashback [Bronze Woods] Pilfered Innocence

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

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Warning Sensitive Material Within! Read at your Own Caution & Discretion!

Lorden's groggy blue eyes flexed open, before flickering closed involuntarily, a few times. Remembering the current situation, the knight forced his blue orbs to stay open, the best he could.

The eighteen-year old smiled, and rolled himself over, his unclothed body scraping the cloth sheets that were over-top him, as he did.

The knight hungrily took in the form, of the brunet woman, that lay beside him, with the covers tucked all the way up to her attractive neckline. Lorden lifted his arm out from under the cloth bedsheets he and his lover shared, and let it fall lovingly over the twenty-year old beauty, that he so dearly cared for.

"I love you so much," he mouthed, leaning forward, and whispering into Willow's ear.

The brunet made a cooing noise, as his breath drifted and warmed her curvaceous ears. Lorden's heart all but sailed.

"Wake up, don't let me lie here, awake all by myself," the man said, moving his lips down to drift over Willow's right carotid artery.

"Lorden...," the woman trailed off sleepily, as the man kissed her neck forwardly.

"Did you need something? I'm pretty busy here," the knight replied with a smile, as he reached his head up, and planted another soft, passionate kiss, on his fellow knight's warm cheek.

"We have patrol today," the woman said, as if to stave off her lover.

All but ignoring her words, Lorden coaxed her to roll over on to her back, and positioned himself, so that he was suspended, with his two arms off to both sides of her naturally curled hair.

"Then you need to wake up, love," the man said, bending his arms in, and lowering himself to connect lips with the woman, who's green eyes were only now starting to open.

Lorden allowed their visages to linger in their attached state, for a few ticks, before shifting his head off to the right, to hang near Willow's right ear.

"And we're going to have to hurry," he whispered, before bending down, to once more touch his lips delicately on willow's neck.

The brunet Lorden was wooing giggled, and rolled over, flipping the knight on top of her to his back, as she did.

"We don't want to be late," Willow said, smiling down at her mate, from the position Lorden had just been in, and which she had just reversed.

"Besides, don't you remember last night?," the girl said, as she slid off of Lorden's toned form, planting her own kiss on the man's cheek, as she drifted out from under the bed sheets, and off the side of 'their' bed.

"Of course I do. I was just hoping," Lorden sat up, smiling, as he watched Willow's bare form drift off the side of the bed, and move toward the pile of clothes, that lay strewn out on the stone floor of his apartment.

"You hope every night, and morning, and afternoon," Willow laughed, as she spoke.

"You know me so well," Lorden replied, in a loving manner, as his eyes drifted over Willow's uncovered chest.

"I wouldn't be with you, if I didn't. And if I didn't like the way you think," the woman said, her eyes catching the direction in which Lorden's own were pointing.

Willow's lips curved slightly, in a knowing smirk.

"Get dressed, Syna will be up soon," she said, tossing the clothes she now held at Lorden's head. The cloth shirt and pants, quickly covered the knight's face without him realizing, as his eyes were otherwise preoccupied.

With a gasp Lorden fell back against the soft bed, that he was still sitting up on.

Willow laughed, shaking her head; glowing affection, was more than evident in her own beautiful, doe-brown eyes.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden allowed his horse to drive along down the Kabrin, at a slow sitting trot. Taking in the flourishing oaks and towering redwoods that surrounded him, with thirsting eyes, Lorden spoke out loud.

"We really do live, in a beautiful piece of country, don't we?," the knight announced, clearly question the woman that rode on a white mare, along to the left, of his of his own brown gelding.

"The woods are so beu-," the woman's sing-song reply, was cut off, not with a gasp, but by simple silence. Lorden's heart skipped a beat.

"Willow?," the man said in a vaguely concerned tone, as he turned his head to his non-dominate side.

The man's brow contorted at what he saw.

'Be quiet Lorden,' Willow signed, unfolding and contorting her fingers, in the sign language of the Syliran Knights. Something had urged the woman, to take a hand off her reins.

'Why?,' Lorden mouthed without speaking.

Willow gave him a concerned look, and began to gaze at the bush-covered country-side that surrounded them.

"Willow!," the knight whispered in a demanding tone.

The female knight's head shot back to his own.

She gestured with her free hand, to the road in front of them.

Nodding his head and mouthing 'alright' to his lover and fellow knight, Lorden glanced to where he tracked her appendage, to be pointing to.

The concerned and inquisitive swordsman, took in the densely forested roadside; seeing nothing between the many tall green bushes and trees, the knight began listening, with his now-wired and alert ears.

Moving his head to follow the gently-shifting wind, Lorden could hear nothing as 'subtle' as a twig cracking, or a bush shuffling; but he could of sworn he was picking up on something.

Crunching...?, the eighteen-year old thought, furrowing his thin black brow as he did. Lorden cleared his throat silently.

'Did you see something,' the knight signed, taking his right hand from off the reins as he did, and turning back to willow. The woman held a unsure look on her face, as he questioned her. The female brunet looked around, before signing back.

'Boots... In the bushes. I think,' she signaled. Lorden eyes drifted to the wild shrubbery, that sat behind his companion and her horse.

'Willow... I don't see any-,' Lorden's hand shot out from in front of his chest, and down to his left side, as his eyes caught brown, armored, movement.

"Sword...! Behind you!," the knight screamed hoarsely, to his companion, his heart aching, as he saw an armored form, erupting from the woods that were beside the woman.

"Lorden, behind you!," Willow all but screamed back, as she drew her own light bastard sword, and turned to wheel her horse.

Willow..., the knight thought desperately, as he drew his arming sword from his side.

He was scared, his heart ached to protect Willow, but he was scared. Lorden moved his sword and head quickly to his side, and brought an angled slash, down at the closest humanoid form, that was to the right of his horse.

Dammit, you bastards!, the knight thought, as he urged his horse to turn to the right, and circle around to the side of the sword-wielding bandits, that were now surging out from between the bushes on his right.

His mount never got the chance, to follow its master's directive.

"Ahhh!," the man cried, as a hand grabbed his leg, and yanked him from his horse. The helmeted knight, stuck his hands out in front of him, as his armored form was dragged from the saddle.

Willow... Oh gods why..., he thought desperately, as he plummeted to the road below.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden's armored pauldron hit the ground first at a downward angle, throwing up a minuscule plume of dust, that was accompanied by a loud clanging of metal, that was shifting on the leather straps that held it.

Holy petch, Lorden thought fearfully, as he went into a clumsy overhead roll, which was only somewhat intentional. As he flipped, the man just barely managed to keep a hold of his short sword, meanwhile, his armor kept the blade from gouging anything out, as it clambered around limply in his dominant hand.

Oh Lord Tyveth, the knight's blue eye's widened, underneath his metal visor, at the sight of a booted shin not inches from his face, as his roll slowed, and he came to be on his hands and knees.

Acting on instinct, and relying on the training that had gotten him knighted, Lorden lifted his right arm and the sword held in its attached arm, from the road, and shifted his weight to his grounded left palm.

Quickly, the eighteen-year old swordsman, brought a level slash across the shin that was before him; Lorden did his best to hit the cloth-covered pants of the leg, rather than the leather boot that was right underneath the cloth leggings.

Tearing through stained fabric and smooth flesh, Lorden's eyes widened, as his ears were assaulted by an angry moan. The boot that was in front of his face, shot up angrily, acting on instinct, as a response to the pain, that the grounded knight had inflicted upon its owner.

Relying on equal amounts of primal directive, Lorden tucked his steel-encased head down; and all but prayed, as the large shoe cut the air, and rocketed towards him.

Lorden's helmet slid back slightly, and slammed into his brow, as the boot connected with it. In a rage, that urged the young-adult to punish that which assailed him, the knight hooked his sword-wielding arm up and over the leg that had just connected with his armor, before it could drop back down and find its footing again. Angrily, Lorden exhaled through his dry throat, and felt his hot-breath wrap around the inside of his helm.

Time seemed to slow, ticks became chimes; and yet, Lorden's mind seemed to have even less time to think than usual. With a clouded mind and a fearful adrenaline-induced strength, the knight yanked the bandit's leg down brutally to the side, and positioned it so that it rested on his right shoulder, but only for a tick. The swordsman shot forward, as fast as his encumbering steel exoskeleton allowed. It was the bandit's turn to scream, as he fell.

When the two finally settled on the ground, Lorden slipped the tumbled man's leg off of his shoulder, and crawled on top of his laid-out form. The vicious knight batted the bandit's shocked hands away, and a tick later Lorden wrapped his own hands around his sword blade.

By Tyveth...-, Lorden thought, as he drove his sword into the man's trachea. The knight lifted his sword back through the flesh, tendons, and spurting veins, as fast as it cut through them.

Die!, his mind commanded, as he brought his arming sword back down into the man's shocked left eye.

Petching bleed..., he screamed mentally.

If you hurt her..., he thought, slamming the blade back down into the bandit's other eye, slowing this time, as he struck the mangled corpse. Wearily, Lorden leaned against the blade, and took an exasperated breath.

Hearing the sound of feet nearby, the knight pulled his sword out from the corpse's crimson-masked face.

It was impossible... but the surrounding bandit's were only just beginning, to close in on the knight, as he assaulted their compatriot. It was impossible, but it had only been ticks, since he had fallen from his horse. It had only been ticks, yet, he was already sweating.

With a steeled, but shaken heart, Lorden stumbled to his feet. Breathing only somewhat steadily, the knight unhooked his buckler from his leather belt subconsciously, with his left hand.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden slashed, cut and spun, dropping another bandit. There were at least ten, no twenty men around him; more if you were to go by the knight's exaggerated count.

Steel and wood repeatedly and relentlessly skirted and clanked awkwardly against Ser Ladis's armor, as he searched tiredly for his next target; the hits did no real damage, but they did prove to disorient Lorden, and caused him to stumble back and forth, with the shock of the blows.

Gods please, the man thought as he raised his buckler, and just barely managed to catch the sudden incoming arc, of a wooden war club.

Feeling something skirt against his right chestplate, most likely a sword, Lorden dove forward, and threw an awkward left cross, against the face of the man, who had just swung the large wooden stick at him. The knight's steel buckler and hand collided with the bandit's brown beard, drawing blood from the man's top lip.

Acting on a viscous instinct, Lorden swung his arm backward, almost as soon as the initial punch's force had subsided. His action, brought the back of his small shield, against the other side of the brunet's bleeding face.

With his left arm drifting off to his enemy's right-hand side, Lorden stepped into arm's reach, and shot his buckler-wielding arm up and behind the man's shoulder. With sweat running into his mouth, the eighteen-year old gasped, and propped his buckler against the bandit's shoulder.

With a heave Lorden pulled in, with his left arm, against the man's back.

Driving into another forward lunge, the armored knight, used the mutual forward momentum, that he had generated, to drive his sword into the stunned bandit's gut.

You'll never hurt anyone again, the knight told the man mentally and weakly, as his burning bicep flexed, and yanked his sword from the bloodied brigand's stomach. As the knight felt the warmth of fresh blood through his leather gloves, he sent a silent thanks to the order, for loaning them to him.

Yet, no part of the knight's gear, could protect his eyes from watching the horrified expression on his enemy's face, as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. And no piece of his armor, could keep the stench of shyke from reaching his nose, as the brunet's body lost control of its functions, in its death throes.

The knight felt his tingling stomach, all but heave in on itself.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Swallowing, and covered in blood, Lorden attempted to back away from the reeking bandit's body. Yet, before the man could take a step back, a sharp pain ripped through his right side. Lorden heaved forward, as his widened and dilated eyes drifted, down to where a small dagger had found its way into the chink in his armor, where his back and breastplate met.

Son of a bitch, Lorden thought, as fear once more, flooded and permeated his spine.

Son of a bitch!, he screamed mentally to himself, as his armored right elbow shot up, and hooked the man who had stabbed him, right in the nose.

"I will petching kill you," the knight threatened, as he turned to face the dagger-wielding brigand. The knight swung his sword in a skillful downward arc, at the black-haired man's unarmored head.

"Ahhh!," the knight screamed, as another blade sunk into the opposite side of his body; the bandits were learning, Lorden realized.

With the shock of the second hit and the dreadful realization, Lorden's over-the-head swing, hit his target's neck, rather than splitting his skull. Yet, the knight didn't care, the man was dead regardless, even a fool could see that; there was another enemy, the knife in his side proved that; hai, there might as well have been a hundred more enemies, Lorden was outnumbered and he knew it. Yet, again, he didn't care; Willow was in danger, he was in danger. He was scared, but he wouldn't meet Dira this day.

Lorden laughed uncharacteristically.

I bet all the dead men think that, the swordsman thought to himself, as he whirled to face the direction, from where the second dagger had assailed him.

Lorden's face contorted.

I won't let Willow be one of them, he thought to himself, as he tightened his hand around his sword's leather grip.

Glancing around, the knight didn't see another dagger-wielding brigand; then again, he didn't have much time to look. A short sword suddenly appeared, from out of the circle of bandits, and it was obviously aimed right at his head.

Quickly, Lorden raised his sword, and as the small gash in his side ached, he caught the blade of his opponent with his own longer sword.

Pushing through his mounting pain, the eighteen-year old slid his sword down the length of his enemy's; steel skirted audibly, until the knight's blade reached the cross-guard of the bandit's sword.

Now or never, the knight thought, as he lifted his weapon, from off of his enemy's. It was a gambit, if his enemy caught on, he could strike at the knight easily enough. Swinging right, and slinking under the brigand's sword, the young knight brought his blade across the man's hands.

With a yell, Lorden's enemy dropped his sword.

Thank you, Lorden mouthed to whatever higher power, might be listening. The injured knight took a breath.

Going for a quick kill, as his opponent stumbled from the shock of loosing his sword, Lorden swung his blade across the bandit's neck, severing his artery, with a gush of blood.

In a fit of tired, pain-induced rage, the knight lifted his armored leg up, and kicked the bleeding man, that was in front of him, directly in the chest. The man crumpled familiarly.

Lorden's chest heaved, as sweat coalesced down his hot face.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden's foot reconnected wearily with the ground, as the bandit collided with the dirt underfoot.

Suddenly, pain shot through the knight's right hand, as a wiry piece of steel cut through the dead flesh of his leather gloves, and drew blood from his own living skin. The young swordsman winced with pain, and lifted his sword, swinging wildly to his side.

But it was too late, the vultures surrounding him, were closing in for the kill.

As Lorden tried to hit his new attacker, blunt force slammed heavily, into the back of his left knee. The exasperated eighteen year old faltered, taking a shaken step forward, as he tried to escape the pain, and the wooden club that had just assailed him.

With widened eyes, Lorden felt a hand grab at his nape. Shock made up of fear and realization charged up his spinal column, as the knight whirled on his sore knee, throwing a wild punch at the general direction behind him.

His fist connected only with the iron-laden air. But it didn't matter, the swordsman saw the bandit who had tried to rip his helmet off, as the man stumbled back, to dodge the eighteen-year old's instinctively thrown cross.

Lorden began to take a step, as his chest heaved, and grabbed the startled vagabond. As the man struggled, Lorden threw a helmeted headbutt into his sorry brow.

If he wants my helm, he can have the damn thing, the knight thought, through the ringing of his ears, as he pulled his head up, and sunk his sword tiredly into the robber's gut.

Lorden heaved again, this time painfully and with burning sides, as he drew his short blade from out off, the fleshy scabbard of the bandit's gut.

Stumbling back in fatigue, the knight's steps were stopped, as his head was yanked forcefully back.

Gods why do this to me? I'm only human... I bleed dammit, Lorden pleaded mentally, as his helmet was ripped off, this time successfully, from his drenched visage.

With tears all but in his eyes, the knight whirled once more. Hopelessly, Lorden lunged at the man, who had taken a piece of his only advantage in this fight, from him.

As salt-laden water trickled down his face, the eighteen-year old, ran his sword through the area where the bandit's ribs connected with his chest. The highwayman gasped, as steel entered his flesh; yet his cry was not the only scream that penetrated the loud drumming in Lorden's ears.

"Lorden!," a feminine voice cried out, in pain and desperation.

Pressing his left hand against the shoulder of his frozen victim, Lorden ripped his blade from underneath the man's lungs. Salt-laden water ran down the injured swordsman's face, as he looked over the small portion, of the bandit horde that surrounded him

Why..., the knight thought, as he watched the other side of the 'battle-field', and saw a merciless blade slink through the gap in his lover's armor, where her back and breastplate connected.

"No!," Lorden screamed helplessly, as his azure eyes cringed, at the sight of his lover slinking to the ground unconsciously.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden swiped helplessly, at the small-circle of bandits, that surrounded him.

He wasn't scared anymore. He was terrified.

Willow..., the knight trailed his thoughts off, as he aimed his armoured shoulder forward and lunged through the crowd of bandits. The knight charged towards the sound of a squealing horse, as he knocked the animated bodies aside.

I'm so sorry, Lorden whispered mentally, as he approached the bandit who was harassing his injured, but breathing mount.

With a look of complete horror and detached unbelief, the broken swordsman limped hastily to the front of his gelding, and threw a gloved fist across the face of the club-wielding brunet that stood there. With the man stumbling backwards, the knight moved back himself, and shoved his foot into the startled horse's right stirrup.

Lorden swung into the saddle.

"I'm sorry Willow... I'm only human...," he repeated the excuse and apology out loud, in a weak voice, as tears streamed down to paint his armored chest.

Clenching his teeth in fear and pain, that was both mental and physical, the knight all but slammed his thighs against the horse, that he was now sitting atop of. Lorden's mount shot forward, trampling the bandit that the swordsman had just socked.

With his heart announcing, what it thought to be his imminent death, Lorden urged his horse into a canter, and drove away from the armed vagabonds that were trailing him.

As he rushed up the road, after a few ticks, Lorden wheeled his injured horse around. There was only one way to get to Syliras. The city was the only safe place.

The knight kicked his horse worriedly, once more; the beast drove into a full gallop in its fear. Soon, Lorden shot past the crowd of highwayman. And left the body of his lover, in the dirt, alone, and unprotected.

[Lorden Ladis]

21st of Winter, 512 AV

Lorden watched as the knight's fanned out over the wide road, checking bodies and ruffling corpses, as they went.

The knight took a step over a dead woman, and began looking around, just hardly managing to hold back tears, as he glanced about.

Where...?, Lorden thought as his blue eyes looked around wearily. Lorden's heart skipped, and his eyes dilated.

Willow... where are you!, the knight thought, panicked as his wave-like orbs failed to find any glint of Syliran plate, that wasn't moving about.

"Willow...," Lorden whispered, falling to his knees, as he did. The only women dotting the ground were bandits; and his lover, was certainly no highwayman.

"I thought you were dead...," Lorden mouthed weakly.

"I thoug-," the knight's voice faltered, as he knees collided with the ground.

Lorden allowed his eyelids to shut in denial, as tears streamed forth from the blue orbs underneath them. He didn't want to look at the world, didn't want to see, or rather not see, his failure.

Lorden listened to the sound of his concerned comrades beginning to approach him, as the world grew deftly quiet.

[Devi]

Your Grades have arrived! Lordin Skills: Seduction - 1XP Rhetoric - 1XP Weapon Skills: Arming Sword - 4XP Unarmed Combat - 4XP Riding - 2XP Endurance - 2XP Buckler - 1XP Investigation - 1XP Observation - 2XP Lores: Combat: Death is ugly. Buckler: Invaluable in a fight. Combat: Don’t let your opponent flank you. Event: Willow’s disappearance. Comments: Oooo intriguing! I hope we hear more about Lorden's vanished love - I sense further trials are in store for him. Nice work . +2 Shield Points for patrolling. Let me know if you have any questions and don't forget to edit your post in the Grade Request Thread. Happy Writing!