*THUNK*

[Olos]

Olos had not anticipated Kat moving in the opposite direction of himself, and now found hismelf elsewhere than between her and the Celt, where he should be. As he turned to face them, he found that he was about 10 paces from either, with the celt off to his left. He figured she was probably fine for the moment though. Even though she had the skirts in her way, she was a nimble runner, and not at all weighed down by armor or weaponry. The celt on the other hand, though maybe somewhat faster if he were without armor, would have no chance catching her in his current state.

Calculating the situation, Olos yelled ?Kat, run, fast, NOW!? as he reached down to grab his bow, a yard or two closer to the Celt, with his right arm, sheild still on his left for the moment. Olos always liked to keep his options open.

[Argyll]

Argyll, in a fit of rage, realized he could not run down his quarry with his bad leg, and the burden of his armor, and saw no other option than two pull the scramasax from his back and hurl it at the evasive Katherine. It wasn't a throwing weapon but he did his best, and released it from his extended arm and sent in flying end over end towards Katherine's neck. Even if it's blade missed, the shock of the pommel against her fragile vertebrae would surely slow her down...

He then instantly turned towards Olos, who was now a bigger threat. He put up his shield to block any missiles and marched towards him with long sword drawn.

[KatherineEspair]

Katherine was already almost to the wood line when Olos told her to run. It agitated her that she was saying something so obvious, but that tended to be the Dwelf?s personality. Her feet moved like water as they grabbed barring, hair a whisper behind her as she maneuvered around a tree and heard a faint ?click? as if something hit the bark. It bounced of and ran across her retreating right arm, leaving a wound there that gave her a YELP of pain.

Skinny Chick was more than a little angry. The woman dropped her bow to grab her arm and lean against the tree for a moment, formulating in her head what needed to be done. ?Grief, who would think that keeping the * piece, would be so difficult.? Her mind circled around something very basic that she understood when with the company: ?If someone is attacking you then they have given you permission to kill them. They want to kill you so it?s only fair. ?She had hated killing that horse creature as she hated eating meat due to where it came from. She was not a vegetarian, simply a borderline one and she couldn?t stand it when Olos hunted for food. It was probably the upbringing she had.

Standing there behind a tree, she tried to catch her breath. All she had wanted to do was get in some practice today. Was it too much to ask not to deal with the dramatic play that was her life? The thoughts wrote themselves across her features? somewhere between pain and a dread for more life being spilled. ?Wait? where is Freswinn??

[Olos]

"KAT, DUCK", Olos yelled needlessly, as he saw the Celt reaching for a small weapon, obviously meaning to throw it at her, though he didn't watch the knife bouce off of the tree in it's path. Olos tossed his bow into a small patch of taller grass, drew his sword, and began advancing towards the attacker. Olos half-raised his shield as he walked, sword still somewhat loosely at his side.

"Who are you to come here, attacking me and mine. Know that you will die today if you continue, my brothers have trained me well, and several are celts of greater stature than yourself."

Olos finished just before coming into melee range, adopting somewhat of a defensive stance for the moment, stopping in his favorite stance, wide in the legs, able to spring in almost any direction quickly should the Celt decide that he wanted to die today. It was a personal policy of his: never kill unless you get paid, or must to stay alive. The latter he heard from his mother, growing up with none but her in a different part of these woods, the former he had learned somewhat recently in his time with the company. He thought that this Celt, altogether too full of pride, would no doubt fight to the death, and Olos would oblige that, though he might not enjoy it.

[Oisin]

The shattering blast of a bronze horn cut the air, a long note that carried above the sounds of fighting and drew the eyes of all those present. A single horseman, his hair matted and dirty, his clothes stained with mud and dirt from long travel, stood in his stirrups atop a roan warhorse, his shield and long spear in one hand, horn in the other. He rode his horse closer, to within fifty paces of the fighters. His long octagonal cavalry shield shield bore the figure of a stag's head, the antlers wrapped around a stylized knotwork tree, whose branches and roots intertwined to form a circle.

"What the hell is going on here? Stand down, all of you! Put your weapons away! Now, dammit!"

[Argyll]

"Oisin!" Exclaimed Argyll, coming to the realization of his actions, in the presence of a fellow Fenian.
A great conflict now arose in Argyll's heart. The oath he held to his dying father that he would avenge his people, and the concepts of honor and righetousness that he had learned from his tutelage with the Fianna. the conflict of these two forces was cataclysmic. Argyll had not yet broken sweat from the battle, but know his skin was drenched, a lump formed in his throat, and his belly felt as though it was being torn apart from the inside.
He did not sheath his sword.
He Looked back at Oisin.
"Oisin, you know not what you do! This wench has trespassed in our wood, and payed sacrilege to the memory of my people and what we have lost! She and her friends must pay!"

[Oisin]

"What sacrilege is this, that is worth drawing steel and blood for against the closest allies of the Fianna? I'll deal with what needs dealing with, but for god's sake, put your sword away and stop fighting! What sacrilege and what trespass are you talking about, Argyll?"

[Argyll]

"Ach!" Argyll exclaimed in complete frustration. "Be they friend or foe, it matters not! You do not know our past, and what my people have endured. The O Raghaillaighs of olde fought many battles on this very field, and they shed their blood to unite all the peoples of this northern land like teh 5 fingers of a fist, clenched with the might of Ginneigh himself. It was outlanders like these who took it from us, who took everything that was the glory of Ginneigh's name, and these woods and the sacred trees within it is all that we have left, and by Ginneigh himself, no man, nor beast, nor heathen god of any kind will have us not defend the holiness of these woods to our last breaths, and this is what I swore to my father in his last moments!" Argyll's eyes blazed in a rage, and his iron grip around his sword hilt threatened to crush it. "This lady Katherine has killed the very spirit of our great tree and she must die for it!!"

[KatherineEspair]

The world behind the tree was rather pretty. Perhaps it was the green leaves of the trees of the fruitfulness of animals that danced in their branches. For a naked moment she realized the mind of a bird must be so much simpler? when did they kill their own kind? Skinny chick rolled her eyes at them and felt her right arm twitch as blood bathed the ivory flesh and whites of her sleeve... She was going to have to continue deeper into the woods to get out???? or did she?

The conversational yell of men had given way to a horn. Her head tilted as she heard a voice that sounded familiar. It was hard to place at first as she had not been to the battlefields in sometime, but it was just at the edge of her memory. Half-Elvin ears picked up a squabble that was still not quite ended, and she could not do anything more than twist and look.

?I know him,? She thought, ?That?s the Fianna I fought side by side on the battle field with? I?m always mispronouncing His name.? The men spoke more as her heart rate settled into a polite rhythm. Finally The name came to the surface and She mouthed it a few times as practice. Peeking around the tree once more, She offered a mild smile and noted that Olos was unhurt. Hopefully things could be cleared up as she was quite worried about Freswinn.

?Hail Oisin; welcome to Esgaroth... the land of My father.? Called Skinny chick from behind the tree? peeking out with a wan smile tended to go with says such as ?I?m having a bad day? and ?what bill??

[Olos]

"Oisin?, it's definitely been a long time, I wasn't expecting you in these parts. "

Olos did a double-take as he took in Oisin's words. "This...this man? is one of the fianna? That definitely puts a new perspective on things." Turning towards the Celt, Olos said "Well, since we seem to be allied after all, I would have your name before these events unfold. I am Olos, Brother of the Black Company, who are closely allied with the Fianna. I am sure you have heard of us before. If you consent, I will lower my weapon for now. But know this, that currently you stand before me as one who has attacked she whom I love, and for that I might kill you were you not Fianna. But if you attack me, you will then be an ally knowingly turned traitor, and for that, my wrath will surely be kindled like never before. You will not die today, but you will live in pain and agony for weeks maybe, begging me and my brothers for death, and when we finally give it to you, if your kinsmen do not repent for your deed, we will hunt down every last one of them unto the ends of the earth. Oisin here will vouch for the seriousness of this promise, we despise nothing more than a traitor. The choice is yours, but I will offer this one bit of advice. Even the mightiest of mountains will one day come crumbling down. This is but a tree, and though one of the greatest I have ever seen, time takes it's toll. It was not the mere arrows out of a rather weak bow which it conquered that have destroyed the tree, but the never-ending wheels of time."

"Now, let us put this dreadful event in our past, and we can deal with the claims of all sides reasonable, and without needless bloodshed."

[Oisin]

OOC: Olos snuck in while I was typing . . .

"Killed the spirit of your sacred tree? Argyll, I see no axes, and doubt that Lady Kat could lift one, let along swing it. If it was her arrows in the tree, then I can assure you that the tree is quite fine. Pull the * things out so they don't rust in it, but trees have a thick skin. These are not the arrows of Bel that scour the spirit, or even cold iron, they are steel forged over fire. Trees are ancient and patient--if trees were so fragile, then they would have all been killed by the antler-rubbing of the elk long ago. The tree will live, and while it still lives, it will not give up its spirit. If you would rather your last breath come sooner than later, then keep going--I assure you that killing Kat will do your cause far more harm than letter her live. If she transgressed in error, the soldiers that come for your blood with do far more damage, and I doubt that I will be able to speak strongly enough against them to save your head. We are all highly impressed with your hotblooded warrior prowess, but by the gods, Argyll, think like a soldier for a moment. Hot-headed rage and berserker strength does not answer all problems! Is anyone seriously hurt?"

[Freswinn]

Back inside the wood, Freswinn lay unconcious on his side. The healing potion had succeeded in sealing the injury in his lung, but now with his lung filled with the potion, he was drowning on it. His breathing had become ragged, and his body had begun to heave as his body forced him back to consciousness, only to cough the potion violently out onto the ground and send him reeling and oxygen-deprived back into unconsciousness. His breathing was still very ragged, and the fit of coughing had pressed his lung dangerously against one of his broken ribs once again.

[Oisin]

OOC:
So, I was thinking, and I just realized something . . . my shots are also a lot better if I don't think about and aim them. If I just shoot, I can hit almost anything, but if I really aim and think about the shot, I don't shoot nearly as well. Odd, hunh?

IC:
Hearing the rattling deathly cough of a chest injury, Oisin looks around and spots Freswinn, mostly hidden behind another tree. Cursing at himself for not noticing more quickly, Oisin jumps from his horse, grabs one of his saddlebags, and races to Freswinn's side. He quickly rolls the wounded man over and cuts his shirt away with his stag-handled knife.

"Morrigu take it, gods *!," He curses again to himself. He pulls Frewsinn up to a semi-sitting position to relieve the stress on his lungs, turns Freswinn's head to the side and pulls the last of the potion and gunk out of the injured man's mouth with his fingers. "Kat, go quickly, find a physician or a healer, this man is sorely injured. I've seen enough men hurt that I can say he'll live, but go quickly!" From his saddlebag, he takes a bottle of white liquid, and pours a few drops onto Freswinn's tongue. Within moments, the man is fully unconscious again, although much of the pain has gone from his face.

Having done what he can, Oisin turns to Argyll's horse, which, though silent, still kicked and rolled its eyes in pain. The arrows protruding from its chest are deeply set, and the foam at the giant animals' mouth is flecked with red. Moving carefully, cautious from years of dealing with injured horses, he moves to the animals' head and looks into its eyes, and then its mouth, and then at the arrow wound in its chest.

"Argyll, there is a chance your horse will live. The arrow must stay for now, it'll do too much damage to bring it out, but I don't think the wound is fatal. Maybe your horse is just too big for one arrow, I don't know. I'm going to give it some of my opium to get it to stop kicking--I don't know how the horse will react, it might even kill it, but if I don't, it will kick itself to death. It's either that, or you need to come kill it right now before it hurts someone else."

[Argyll]

Argyll was overcome with emotions, confusion mostly. Confused as to what a man of principle is to do now in this situation. He stuck the point of his sword into the ground, and let it stand. He slung the shield back across his back, and paid heed to Oisin's words before giving Olos any heed.

"If that animal lives the chance for a peaceful end to this day may exist."
Leaving his sword wear it was he approached Oisin. His voice was no raised in deep frustration, "but I do not take lightly the mockery you have made of the ways of my people. Be it arrow, or stone, or mere breath, any force cast from outsiders in these woods is blasphemy. We may be of similar heritage my friend, but my people are much different from yours. This is something you must know, you're druidry and heathen-speak has no worth in the lands of my forefathers! Respect our ways, as I respect yours and the difficulties that our differences may cause may be diverted."

[Olos]

OOC: Freswinn was a good ways into the wood, so noone would really have seen him, we'll have to wait till kat or argyll remembers that there is someone back there, as Olos doesn't know about him either.

Seeing that the situation was at least somewhat diffused for the moment, Olos shrugged nonchalantly at Argyll's indifference towards him. Now that he realized this man was an ally, his aim was to get everything cleared up and go have a few drinks at the local tavern, rather than have to kill him. Olos sheathed his sword and slung his shield across his back. He then walked over to katherine, who noone had seemed to notice, hiding behind a tree. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, and asked if she was alright, though he knew that the gesture would probably fall on deaf ears, Kat always was a self-sufficient woman. He reached into his pack and pulled out a long strip of thick cloth, and wrapped the cut on her arm. "we'll have to clean this later when we can get some water, but it should do for now."

Picking up his bow, destringing it, and strapping it inside his shield next to his quiver, he said to Katherine, "Let's head over there and see if we can help out the beast. It would be a token of good will and might help diffuse this situation without bloodshed"

[Oisin]

OOC: dammit, olos, stop posting while im typing . . . grumbles. also, i had come into the woods enough to come to where yall were fighting, close enough to be near freswinn, i think.

Oisin looked up at Argyll, looked him straight in the eye. "I hear what you say, and I note it. We will talk when I have done what I can."

He quickly administered to the horse what he could--a few drops of the opium-laced liquid on the tongue, removing its bit and placing a rope in the mouth to prevent the horse from biting its own tongue off, some soft absorbant moss around the arrow shaft to help seal the wound, loosening its girth. Slowly, the horse relaxed, and within a minute its eyes were calmer and it had stopped kicking. He retrieved another arrow like the one that had pierced the horse's chest, and noted with relief that it was a thin-headed target arrow, not a a more deadly arrow meant for killing. When the time came to remove the arrow, it would come that much easier.

Having done what he could for the horse, he returned to Freswinn. The man was still asleep, and although his breathing was laboured and watery, it did not sound like he would die yet. Oisin checked that his throat was still clear, and then stood, wiping blood, phlegm and potion remnants on the legs of his already dirty black pants.

"Olos, if you would, go with Kat--get her any attention she may need, and above all, get a doctor and some strong men out here quickly to get Freswinn inside. And see if you can get your arrows out of the trees." Nodding calm understanding to Olos, he turned to Argyll. "Alright, Argyll, what happened here. Tell me everything--no one has gotten killed yet, and I'd really rather it stayed that way. I don't want to see you and your people tied to the headsman's block or chased down by wolfhounds. I don't doubt that you'll die bravely, but that would still leave you dead. You probably feel that that might not matter, but remember that if you get yourself killed, there will be no one else left to defend your god and forest."

[Argyll]

Argyll was still greatly flustered, his own ignorance to the situation, the fact that his woods had been desecrated, and the challenge he had heard in Olos's words still echoed in his minds.

"Olos, great king of arrogance, and man of Esragoth, there is no chance for peace between if your words stand as they are. You say your armies will hunt us down like dogs in the woods, and burn our world further into oblivion than it already is, lest I submit to peace and forget this day. You must not know me or my kin, were you to think that there is any option in that. The O Raghaillaighs would see their own flesh torn from their carcasses and their bodies turned inside out and thrown to carrion birds before ever excepting peace, given those conditions."

Argyll now turned to his fellow Fenian, "Oisin, you may think that there is some logic I may see in bowing to this man, to save my woodland home, and continue worshipping Ginneigh, but you must understand that to cower in the face of this man's challenge would be a far greater blasphemy than to die in Ginneighs name, in defense of the last of his lost realm. The O Raghaillaighs will bow to no man, lest it be Ginneigh Incarnate himself, or those who we have given our hommage on our own free will, and definately not to those who hold a sword point at our throats."

Having cleared his thoughts, Argyll was now capable of describing the events that had occurred.

"As for the events that had unfolded... I had embarked from our great hall in the woods this morning. Along with Neldar, and Follar, who left their own way to scout our lands and guard against intrusions. At high noon, I came near the forests edge where these two walked, Katherine and Freswinn. That would have been enough to bring their heads home a year ago, before I accepted the tutelage of Kinsman Finn, his Fianna. I was prepared to know their purpose, and send them home after enlightening them to the sacredness of these woods, but as the trees and the wind spoke to me, I learned that moments before my arrival at forest's edge this lady Katherine, had planted an arrow in one of the great sacred trees here. And so, above all, my duty to Ginneigh was to see her brought to my hall and give her to give her to Him, in our way, through the spilling of her blood. This man Freswynn stood in my way of taking her and so we crossed blades. He cut through my bracer her causing me little harm, but had cut about 1/2 and inch into my thigh, the most damage being bloodloss. I have bound that wound somewhat since, but it will need repair soon before real damage is done. As for him, his foot had been lascerated by a flange of Dardfahtoch, my great mace which I left back in the forest a ways. Dratha did trample him,i beleive and that's what has left him as he is now. I gave chase to Katherine, who had met Olos by the time I reached the clearing and that's when they took Dratha from beneath me. I flung my scramasax over her shoulder into the trees there, and then faced Olos, which did not come to blows, as you arrived simultaneously."

[Olos]

"You misunderstand my promise then, I see." Olos said with a slight friendly smile, "It is not one meant out of ill will. I know how proud the celts can be, and for my part, I will not set foot in these woods again, unless it is by the leave of you or your kin, or at the greatest need. "

Olos's expression then changed, not to one of intimidation, but to one of grave seriousness, "however, we of the company have our own sort of honor, and as one of the fianna, you might know this. We always repay our debts. Whether it be of ill will or good. As a member of the fianna, I consider you a friend and an ally now. But if you knowingly continue in the attack against us for transgressions we did not know were made, you will then be an ally urned traitor, and as I am sure you will agree, that is much worse than an enemy to begin with. Again, I mean this of no ill will, and I am not trying to make you surrendur, but if you continue in the hostilities of today, much more harm will come to your woods and people than from a coupe friends taking a leisurely stroll into the edges of a forest on a beautiful afternoon."

[Argyll]

"I see we are of some likeness in mind. You can not let the harm I owe my god to inflict on this lass go idly by, and nor can I let her transgression pass. Also know that neither her no this man whom my Chevroth has wounded identified themselves as soldiers of the Black Company, to whom I owe my allegience, had it been said the circumstances that have cast this day in gloom may not have occured.
There must be some pay for what has happened to my woods today, Ginneigh shall not allow this to pass. The security of knowledge that none of your people shall step foot in my lands again lest Ginneigh be paid his rightful dues, carries with it the possibility for a strong and lasting peace for our peoples.
What say you to this?"

[Olos]

"Ah, but you also surely did not identify yourself as one of the fianna, or they might have averted the situation." Olos said, now grinning.

"For my part, I would consider us even today. Freswinn's foot for your arm and leg, Freswinn's chest for the pain of your horse, who now seems like he will live, and the arrow in the tree for your blade that has indeed drawn the blood of the lady. Her arrows, nor those of any others, will ever cause any lasting harm to a tree so great, her life would be too great a life, and in itself would be dearly paid, not to mention that I myself will not allow it."

"I cannot give the assurance that none shall intrude on your woods, as I am not a man of esgaroth, and have no real authority around here. Moreover, a formal ban coming from the city would likely cause interest in the area, and make more people venture here than ever before, in hope of some forbidden treasures or secrets. We will do what we can to keep people from coming here, but I haven't the ability to guarantee that they will not come."

[KatherineEspair]

The Lady listened as men began to discuss things. Blue eyes rolled subtly as she gathered herself together, glanced around the tree, and then headed for her arrows. The ragged skirts of hers seemed to do little for the drafty feeling of the evening. As Olos reached her she looked him dead in the eye as he proceeded to kiss her forehead as if she was but a child and ask if she was alright. He would have been fine if he had treated her like a Woman, but no... instead he?d just incurred her annoyance. ?I?m fine.? She growled back, shoving passed him in agitation and making sure to wipe her blood across his arm as she passed.

Her features changed quickly as she spotted Oisin and watched him pass in silence. Pausing, she remembered herself and took off into the woods to check on Freswinn. He had not come out and she knew he was probably hurt. Along the way she grabbed one of Olos?s broadhead arrows from the ground where it had pressed and slipped into the tree line to check on her good friend... wedging it into her belt.

Skinny Chick was no healer, but she could see Friskin was looking a little better. He had revived consciousness and was coughing heavily. Pretty, delicate features became red in anger. ?you?d think more people would turn to diplomacy eh Fres?? She asked gently as she knelt by his side and tried to help him up. The young woman was no nurse and hadn?t a clue what she was doing. From the forest she could hear the sounds of men negotiating. She held her tongue for the moment? men preferred to deal with men?. The idea made her spit... hitting a tree with accuracy a good 10 feet away.

[Argyll]

About to respond to Olos's words Argyll turned his head towards Katherine in near the tree line. A sudden chill ran up his spine as the leaves of the trees rustled in wind, speaking to him, wailing in their subtelty. He pulled his sword out from the ground behind him.

"That b*tch just spat on His tree!"

[Oisin]

OOC:

~scratches head~

~looks at rule~

~refreshes self on the basics of bans against godlike characters~

~recalls that one aspect of god-like is knowing everything~

~rereads last post~

[Argyll]

(ooc- i've seen quite a helping of magic in the little roleplay, wizards shoot fireballs, elves don't die of disease, and Argyll can listen to the forest, he still bleeds, but he can listen to forest. That's not "god-like" at all, and i've already performed this ability in this role-play and no one seemed to care)

[Oisin]

OOC: a passive ability that lets you know the tiniest thing that happens is a bit overboard . . . knowing when somebody shot the trees, ok. when somebody spits on one? how does a tree even know its been spit on, and why would it understand the human cultural connotations of spitting on something? not only that, but you have put us in the middle of an entire landscape of sentient trees who all seem to be as raving bloody frothing mad as argyll is. its the entire package that you have to think about.

[Freswinn]

((OOC: as for me, I'm almost entirely lost. Too many impatient people.))

Weakly, trying to talk around the fluids caught in his throat, Freswinn managed to say to Katherine, "Hello again. Glad we could meet here." He partially collapsed against her side as he tried to stand, shuddering in pain as he realized the damage that had been done to his right hand. "I don't feel so well," he managed with a smile before collapsing into another coughing fit, spitting at the end of it. As he regained himself again, face bright red and skin hot as his body tried to provide him with oxygen, he looked to her. "Where to? My vision's pretty blurry."

[Argyll]

ooc: i don't feel good continuing either way until then opinion of the other people in this rp let me know if what i've chosen to occur is acceptable or not. I don't find the concept of it being questionable at all. If harry potter can make people turn into underwear, than argyll can tell when a tree is spit on. And yes Argyll is usually raging frothing * mad, and he would be given the circumstances of his existence.

[Oisin]

ooc: well, to be honest, harry potter is a really, really bad example. harry potter lives in a world where magic is so incredibly common that it is taught to 11 year olds in school instead of math and science. besides, we arent doing a harry potter fanfic, anyway. also, you are presenting this as two seperate issues. do the trees talk to argyll, or does he, through some as-of-yet undefined agency of his own, just know what happens to them? because those are two completely different issues.

if the answer is that the trees talk to him, then the problem is that you are assuming unilateral control of the entire landscape in a hostile situation. also, again, how do the trees know that they have been spit on? how do they understand that the certain human culture under consideration considers this a huge offense? why would trees, which are incredibly longer lived than humans, care about such petty human squabbles? follow this line of thinking a bit farther. i completely understand argyll being raging frothing * mad, by why would the trees be also? if oak trees were sentient, they would have to be awefully bloody patient and chill.

if the answer is that argyll somehow magically knows when anything happens to a tree anywhere nearby, then i would think that he would be constantly flooded with messages. a squirrel * on one tree, a bird **** on another, a deer rubs its antlers against a third--magically sensing that someone spit on a tree, while standing in the middle of a living breathing forest, seems a bit ridiculous.

the other consideration (and yes, i know its an argument ad baculum) is that if you want to continue as a character in this story, you really need to chill out a bit. i really have no interest in seeing your character killed, but if you cant show the slightest bit of compromise, its going to happen. if you let this drop, let everything just kinda smooth over, then we can get along to something other than pc's trying to kill each other.

[Argyll]

ooc: the trees are not independent beings, and do not have a consious in the sense that humans do. Argyll has an innate ability to sense things through the trees of his woods, and that is how he knows things. The woods and all their natural contents, including animals within are sacred as well, and thus if a squirrel ****, it's ok. because it's a sacred squirrel with sacred *. It's an outsider influencing the environment that is what demands action of Argyll and his followers.

For some context: Imagine the entire world has become stark-raving satanists, save yourself and a 100 fellow christians who dwelt in the last sanctuary of Christ, that had been consecrated by Christ himself within your life time. Would you allow some heathan-heretic-pagan to blaspheme the last bastion of hope for all of christianity by being present within said holy grounds, much less oozing body fluids of any form on said groud?

[Freswinn]

(( OOC: Okay, guys, I understand that you think Argyll's little thing about her spitting on the tree is a little.. much. Especially since it's a tree, and spit is water mixed with enzymes, the water bit the tree would actually use. But if Argyll really wants to get himself killed, let him, if for no other reason than to get this RP going again. ))

[Argyll]

ooc: for the purposes of saving the rp and not having black company hate me, Argyll did not sense Katherine spitting on the tree, and the rp can continue as though that never happened

[Argyll]

"Well, if that be the case, and you personally can not insure against intrusions in my forest, than I ask the your forces deploy 24 hour guards along the edge of my woods, to guard against intrusions of your own people, and to deter any bloodshed between my people and yours"