Seekers of Truth RPG

[Arien]

Braedon swung his sword against his attackers, the sharp vibrations flowed through his arms. This was no use, his chosen opponent apparently wielded a sword well. Well enough at least for Braedon to start to feel that this fight was getting a little monotonous. Suddenly the man swung again, this time quicker than before. He slashed across Braedon’s arm. He dropped his sword to the ground and fell on his knees. His attacker laughed.

“Tired Ranger? I thought I would at least have a match in you! Ha, weak!” He mocked as he raised his sword above his head, ready to drive it down on to Braedon’s body. He was big, a good few inches bigger that Braedon, almost dwarfing him and from down on the ground he had to admit this man held the advantage on size and power. But he was slow. So, he would have to be quick, he had already slid his knife out of his boot whilst the man before him was preoccupied with ridiculing him. He look up, the man smiling once more. Braedon smiled back.

This probably threw the man off, Braedon didn’t know, he didn’t linger to find out. He threw his knife in the direction of the man midriff, hoping. It was a blind an careless shot, he knew that, but it had to work. Luckily, the knife managed to puncture the area where there was no armour. Braedon grabbed his sword and slid though the mans legs, quickly getting up. He took no time in plunging his sword through his opponents back, he watched him fall to the floor as he drew his sword out. Coming around the side he kicked him over and retrieved his knife.

He moved his hand to his bleeding arm, excellent, now he had two injuries.

"Raen, Braedon! Hama needs help. Where is Haven?"

His head shot round to where Anora’s voice had called from. There! He ran over, sheathing his knife as he went.

“What happened?” Braedon asked, checking Hama’s wound. Thick, red blood slowly flowed out of the wound.

“Stabbed, protecting me, “ Sandrina said shortly. A tear flowed down her cheek, but it was quickly rubbed away.

Braedon took his off his small pack and laid it on the floor. He opened it and frowned.

“We need to seal…”

“Braedon!” shouted Sandrina, pointing behind him. Braedon felt a heavy hand knock him to the side, his eyes were blurred a little but he managed to see the mercenary making his way towards Sandrin, Anora and the fallen Hama. He searched for his sword, but that had been knocked away from him, he grabbed his knife and slowly stood up, watching the man in front of him gradually getting closer to them. He ran forwards slicing his knife across the mans neck . The man fell instantly to the floor, and lay motionless. Braedon moved him aside and bent down to tend to Hama again.

“We need to seal this wound, but what I have will not do it. I will have to burn it. Sandrina, you need to keep talking to him.” She nodded and sat down next to him quietly whispering to her fallen friend.

Braedon felt the wound, nothing serious was injured. He was ok, provided he didn’t lose any more blood and the wound was not infected. Which meant he would have to seal it as soon as possible. “Anora I need a fire.” She nodded and set to work. Braedon pulled out a bottle from his bag, and pulled off the cork. He spread the liquid around the wound and in it.

“Hama, if you can hear me this will numb the pain, and the burn a little. But I cannot guarantee you will feel nothing.”

“It is lit,” said Anora. Braedon nodded and the cursed. He had nothing but his knife to use, he handed it to Anora and instructed her what to do.

She was soon back, the knife held at arms length. She handed it to Braedon, he could feel the heat coming from it. He would have to move quickly. He traced it along the wound, the smell of burnt flesh filled the air around the four. Hama was now awake. His face was pale and his eyes full of pain.

“Ok, it is done.” Braedon tossed his knife to the ground and examined the wound. It was seal, and the bleeding had stooped. But it still looked terrible, and it would hurt immensely for the first few days. Losing a good fighter now was not the best thing to happen. Braedon applied a herb lotion on the wound. “He should be ok now.”

[The Perky Ent]

As Arthur moved throughout the world, he started looking at it without cause. He started to seperate what he thought, from what was logical. It soon became clear to him that this had no cause. His brother just might have been right all along. He was going to die. The question was, weather he'd go along with it. Once he took aside the prejudice of it all, he knew what he'd have to do. He didn't know if it would result in the death of his father, brother, or himself. But one thing was certain. Someone would die. Although he followed his fathers commands, he could sense it wouldn't last long.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina nodded and looked around. She knew that her parents couldn't be here anymore. There was just no way that they would send people like these to get others. Her parents had never been like that.

"We need to leave the estate. We need to find my parents. Harold and his horrible sons must have them or something along those lines. Hama, can you make the journey?" Sandrina asked. Hama nodded slightly, the pain still in his eyes.

An arrow zoomed through the air and landed at Hama's feet. A piece of parchment was wrapped around it. Sandrina took it out of the ground and unrolled the paper.

"It reads: Sandrina you have no chance. We are going to your parents and we are going to kill them. Then we're going to kill you. I suggest you run away now," Sandrina read, swallowing hard. She looked up, her eyes filled with determination and a new emotion, hatred. Hatred for the traitors that lived within her family. Absolute traitors in every way.

Sandrina stood up and helped Hama to his feet. He leaned on her heavily, but she did not waver underneath his weight.

"We have to go now. Send out any word you can on our way into Rohan. This began as a battle. Now it is a war," Sandrina announced. She whistled for the horses. They came running instantly to her call. She helped Hama to his horse then jumped upon hers. She kicked the sides of her horse, which reared in response then sprang off in the direction of the city of Rohan.

[Firefoot]

Harold watched in satisfaction at the stricken look that came over Sandrina’s face as she read the message. He and his sons had made good time throughout the night and by the light of the early morning approached and hid on the very grounds of the estates. He himself had shot the arrow with the message tied to it. The message had been simple: death to her parents, and death to herself. Now he only had to see what her reaction would be. He was not quite close enough to make out Sandrina’s words to her companions, about half of which he had noted were in fact female, but he could see their actions.

He smiled evilly as Sandrina whistled for the horses the group was using. His smile faded to a frown when he realized the direction she intended to take, however. She did not flee as he had expected; rather she headed her horse deeper into Rohan. Her companions followed as soon as each was mounted, one of the men injured. She’s going after her parents, he realized. Another one of those female weaknesses - no thought to your own safety... Harold did some quick calculations. She would take the roads, because she would need to find out where her parents were living, and the only way to do that would be to go through towns. He, on the other hand, knew precisely where Henry and Eowyn made their abode. He and his sons would go cross-country, then, and come to the cabin ahead of Sandrina, where they would be waiting with a trap.

In case the Estates had not been left alone, he left silently from his hiding spot and motioned for Arthur and Samuel to do the same. If he had not been so enthused by his own devious plans he might have noticed how his sons were reacting to the situation. Samuel looked the same as always, reluctant and disgusted, which would not have surprised Harold, but Arthur’s feelings were changing to be closer to Samuel’s, which would have sparked Harold’s temper in a big way had he paid attention.

Harold did not pay attention, though, and so his sons were spared a tongue lashing. Harold checked on the horses, and saw that they looked fatigued, as well they should. He said, “We need fresh horses. We will have to trust that there are no people left at the estates, and if there are...” He gripped his sword handle. “They will die.” He spun on his heel, expecting his sons to follow. He made his way down the familiar trail to the stables, and found it abandoned. Smirking, he mused that Sandrina had left no thought whatsoever to the well-being of the estates.

“Hurry; we don’t have much time,” said Harold. “Get a horse, and return to where are supplies are.” For himself, he knew precisely the horse he wanted: a tall gray with a good build and strong hindquarters. The horse was at the far end of the stables, and turning a corner he nearly tripped. Seeing the cause, he mentally recoiled in disgust. It was the body of one of his men. Couldn’t do their job right, could they? You’d think they’d be able to get the best of a bunch of women and a few men. He really did have no time to waste, so he continued on with no thought to the corpse. He found the horse and led it back to their meeting location by a different route.

Arthur and Samuel came back about the same time he did, and began to saddle the new mounts. Ready to go, Harold issued another set of instructions. “Sandrina has gone after her parents. We need to beat her and her companions to Henry’s cabin, so we will be heading in a direct route there-” He gestured vaguely toward Henry’s house. “-and once we get there we will secure Henry and Eowyn and lay a trap for Sandrina. We will not kill Henry and Eowyn yet; for her trouble Sandrina will see them die.” Samuel looked outraged. Arthur schooled his expression to one of none. He thought Samuel would argue, and he even opened his mouth to do so, but no words came out. “Good,” said Harold evenly. “We are in agreement.” He mounted skillfully and set off at a trot into the knee-high grass of the plains. Leading the way, he thought he heard Arthur and Samuel talking quietly behind him, but Harold did not care. So long as they did his bidding, he gave little heed what they thought. And they would do his bidding, for his sons would not dare to do otherwise. Harold set his mind on their destination. Soon, very soon, his schemes would come to fruition, and an unhappy day that would be to those who dared to oppose him.

[Himaran]

Raen rode on in silence. He was worried about Hama; the man was acting resolute and strong in order to impress Sandrina - and no harm was done in that. However, it was obvious that he was badly injured - perhaps near death, in fact - and pretending to be tough and resiliant was not always a prudent path to take in such a situation. Adding to the discomfort of the ranger was the fact that he now felt conciencious around Sandrina; had spent the last quarter hour lavishing Hama with gratefulness for his bravery and sympathy for his injury. Why do you care? You are a ranger, and he is a man. It is his place, not yours, to be Sandrina's hero.

Raen pondored the last statement in his head for a while. Had it not been he that had gone in first to check things out? If they had followed Hama's advice, they might all be dead now. But because he was standing beside Sandrina, a man the ranger would have easily slaughtered turned Hama into her savior. And there is nothing wrong with that! He fought bravely, and saved her life, as did you... The last statement was true; there was no denying that. Then why did he still feel bitter resentment? As a ranger he had done great deeds before without getting recognition - merely floating away from whatever he had accomplished. That was his way, and the way of all his kin.

Now, Raen mused, it was time to allow Hama to lead the group. Frankly, the ranger was tired of giving direction to a man that clearly wished he had never been born, let alone entered this company. Besides, this is not my place. I should never have joined them, and risked my life for this snide man who struts about like a general, constantly reminding us of his time in the King's Royal Guard... Then something caught Raen's attention. Looking carefully at the ground, he was able to pick out partially erased hoof-marks. They had gone this way, that was certain. But the ranger was intent to keep the information to himself - after all, now it was Hama's perrogative to notice features such as this.

[starkat]

Anora was worried. She had watched as Sandrina paid attention to Hama. She also noticed that Raen seemed displeased. I hope this does not get out of hand. We do not need problems within our own ranks right now. The young woman was still watching Raen when she noticed him take a look at the ground.

Urging her horse up next to his, Anora looked down. She was not completely certain that those were tracks. I wonder why he did not say anything? Surely not because of Hama? I had better ask. "Raen, do you think that those are the tracks of the men headed for Sandrina's parents?"

[Firefoot]

When Harold saw a puff of smoke in the air, he knew they were getting close to Henry and Eowyn’s cabin. He motioned for his sons to draw in closer so that they could talk.

“I do not expect a lot of trouble from them,” he began. “We will go to the front door and get Henry to answer it. It would be well to have your swords drawn. I will take care of Henry; you two can go find Eowyn. Hold on a minute.” He rummaged in his saddlebags until he found what he was looking for: two long lengths of rope. One of them he tossed to Arthur, who caught it. “Tie her up, and make sure she does not have a knife on her person so they will not escape. Understand?” They nodded. “Come then.”

There was a tree nearby, and the three of them dismounted and tied their horses there. Harold led the way, marching boldly up to the front door. His sword was drawn, though it was more for show than anything else; he did not expect to use it. He knocked sharply, and in a short time it was opened.

“Brother,” said Harold. There was no affection in the name. He quickly moved so that the door could not be closed on him. He put the sword to Henry’s throat.

“What are you doing here?” asked Henry evenly, ignoring the cold blade at his throat.

“You haven’t heard then?” said Harold, feigning mild surprise. “Well, you will understand very soon, I assure you. So long as you cooperate, I will not have to use this sword. Yet.” To Arthur and Samuel, he said one word: “Go.” They understood, and pushed past Henry into the house.

Fury shown in Henry’s eyes. They were the same color as Harold’s; the brothers shared many facial features such as this. That was where the similarities ended, however. Henry was taller but less broad in shoulder, and where Harold tended to intimidate people he met, Henry was a very welcoming person to be around.

“Why are you here?” Henry asked through gritted teeth.

“All in good time, Henry. Now, if you will please turn around and put your hands behind your back...?” Keeping his eye on the sword in Harold’s hand, Henry did so. Had he done anything else, Harold would have been forced to use the sword. Harold took the rope in his left hand, and first looped it around Henry’s waist to keep him from going anywhere while Harold tied his hands, for Harold needed both hands to do the tying and would have to sheath his sword. Harold chatted amiably while he worked, saying: “Now I suppose you want to know my reasons? I will tell you. You see, if my fool sons had been more competent the first time around, Sandrina would already be dead-”

“It was you!” said Henry, rage easily evident in his voice. He had given a jerk at the ropes, but Harold already had it tied securely.

“Yes, it was me. It almost worked too: I got the estates and Lightheart business, after you moved out here, and everything seemed to be going fine. That is, until a few days ago when I got word that Sandrina was in fact alive and well, and had gathered to herself a band of allies.” (“Good for her,” murmured Henry.) “She is coming here even now, in attempts to save you from me. When she does, my sons and I will be waiting. Her companions can die, but she will be taken captive, even as yourselves. She will see you die as part of her punishment for causing so much trouble, and then she will die.”

“I think Sandrina will prove more trouble than you think,” said Henry lightly. “You always did underestimate women.” Harold snarled, “That is because they are the weak and foolish half of the human race.

“Now, that knife you are wearing will have to come off. We couldn’t have you escaping, now, could we?” Harold removed the knife from its sheath and set it on a nearby table.

“Let’s see. I think we should be able to find a closet somewhere for you and your wife? That would be just the thing. He caught sight of a door off the room where he was now and opened it.

“In you go,” said Harold. He looked around for a key, and saw one sitting on the same table where he had set Henry’s knife. He pocketed it, figuring it to be the one to the closet.

“Arthur! Samuel! Bring Eowyn in here!”