*THUNK*

[KatherineEspair]

*THUNK* The arrow hit wood. The wood answered it back by a loudly stated threat that it may or may not decide to give the arrow back to it?s owner. It didn?t help that this particular piece of wood was a good ten feet behind the target and happened to be an old Oak. The plant?s body was like a book that spoke of ages of archer?s passed, and held many scars made from the remains of long-forgotten arrows. It was a tree that was taking names and keeping what was it?s own.

?Oh BLAST!! You would think that I could do better than that when I?ve shot plenty of targets smaller than this one and moving in a direction hinting that it was going to hit me with something sharp and most definably deadly and if that isn?t bad enough I?m going to have to get another arrow ye gods!!? Her run-on-sentence would have kept going but she ran out of air and began panting, clutching the tight restraints of her bodice with a look of dissatisfaction.

The Lady Katherine Espair had a voice that held two different accents and two different modes much like an on and off switch. The accents were simple enough as they tended to curb from an English expression to one that lost all accent and bordered on bluntness as if an accent was in the way of getting through exactly what the point was. Certainly the modes were not much different from night and day. The first mode tended to be seen through upper society and strangers who had just met her. Her voice could be a soft and poetic music that expressed a delight to see them and a politeness that stood besides modestly with a conservatism that suggested it was dressed in at least four full layers and a cloak. What could be said of her other mode of speaking? It held many colourful expressions and intended to be not just flirtatious play but a wit that could either cut or simply be boldly lewd

At the moment She was heating up and had already began a verbal path towards a more colourful speech while still tempering the accent she was born with. It was the company, she would say, the company she kept gave her more or less all she needed to drop any airs and stand before the world yelling ?well???

The Lady stood dressed in a chemise whose billowed sleeves had been wrapped around her arms, binded by bandages, and then tied down with bracers. Two skirts covered the lower half of her body in white and plaid as a bodice of black tied tightly around a sprightly waist. Now if we were to step back and look at the lady we might come to realize that she was indeed quite slender and quite delicate. Fragile boned hands held a recurve bow and a pretty face with high cheekbones and thin nose now stood glowering at the archery target as if it was it?s own fault she had missed it. Long fingers twitched, her full lips pursing as if debating something??

[Freswinn]

"I think the answer you're seeking is, 'Yes,'" called out a familiar voice from behind. "That is to say, 'Yes, you should try and retrieve it.'" A man approached, hand raised in greeting, from her side at a steady pace, wearing a dark blue jerkin on top of an off-white shirt. On his left arm was a blue-and-white kite shield, and at his hip underneath was a broadsword. His belt and pants were both brown, with the brass buckle of his belt glinting in the sunlight. His black boots made heavy footfalls against the ground, potentially from the sizeable pack that he carried on his back, with a long custom-made sword tucked between it and his back; three foot blade, three foot hilt.

As he drew closer, he began to add, "How do you fare this day, Lady Katherine?"

[KatherineEspair]

The Lady snapped to attention, bristling as she lost her concentration. In reality she had yet to really build attention towards a ?moment? with her lost arrow or retrieve another one from the quiver on her hip. Temper flaring, she shut her eyes and let it cool before turning around with a smile of welcome. Some would describe it as dripping with honey, those who knew her knew it was simply her way of turning off anger for her own mistake and setting her attentions on someone more worth her time.?The answer might be yes, but I still think that I shouldn?t bother with the arrow.. Olos says I keep bending them? She commented, turning back around and snatching an arrow from her hip.

Katherine?s skirts danced about the small frail bones of her ankles as she leaned forward and squinted at the target before setting arrow to bowstring and drawing back her weapon. In truth it was not the strongest of poundage, but it held her will and did it?s job under closer circumstances than what would make anyone uncomfortable when in danger.

From a distance she could have been mistaken for an elf? lean, fair, dark blonde hair littering her ivory shoulders.. and yet she missed something important. There was a flaw. There were no pointy ears. Lips pursed as she readied her bow and then shot an arrow out towards the target with little care of true aim. The sound of wood pleased her. It was not direct of course, not a single bullseye but she wasn?t displeased.

?Not so bad..? she mumbled, turning back to her Friend. ?Well? Is he gone? Has that wretched bully finally left the house of my parents??

[Freswinn]

"You know better than to ask, unfortunately. Your father is perhaps not the wisest, but he is smart. It's always about the bloodline." He sighs. "All I've really managed to do is get the good sir to resend his vow to murder him."

[KatherineEspair]

Blue eyes flickered upwards in a roll of less than subtle annoyance. ?My Brother isn?t worth all this trouble. If he wasn?t such a jerk to people around him he might night have to even have a diplomat hired to go make peace between my father and our neighbor. It?s embarrassing and... And? ?She paused, realizing that she was starting to whine and took a different tactic. ?I am certain that my family is grateful for your assistance Freswinn. When are you making the unfortunate trip back home??

Long fingered hands ran along the length of the bow as she upended it and sat a tip upon the ground. Her course to unstring the bow unfortunately went awry as she realized she did not have her string handy and felt several curses reach her lips and not pass.

The day was starting to come to a close as the first rays of the sun died behind forest trees. The wooden shapes seemed to huddle and loom as they grew taller in shadow. Katherine hardly noticed, brushing carefully created tendrils of curly hair from her face. The hair was her own, the curls were not. The Lady had been born with curls that had turned into frolicking waves that didn?t stay put. It took a main each day to style her hair and she hated it. Braids, yes braids were the way of the future but not apparently when you had guests staying at your home.

?I understand that your horse lost a shoe on the way here, is it alright? I don?t suppose you have had that taken care of as of yet?? It was a second addition to a polite conversation. The restraints of society?. She knew their boundaries and delighted on crossing them when away from the watching eye. The daughter of a rich merchant... It wasn?t exactly stately, but he was a workaholic who had earned a title with careful praise here and the work of life?s blood there. It did not mean, however, that Kat was in the money. Infact it was much the opposite and she knew it.

[Freswinn]

His horse, Chauffer, was a strong, brown Akhal-Teke, standing just under 15 hands. Freswinn was unsure of its age, but the two had been riding together for at least 3 years. "His hoof is fine, but no, I'm afraid I've not had the chance to get his shoe replaced. Still astonishes me, the strength of Chauffer, to be going for that long on three shoes without so much as an uncomfortable sound."

As he sat on the ground nearby, he spoke again, "Do pardon me as I've been carrying a bit of a load. I don't have plans to leave any time soon. I have to see things through, defend the lives of those involved, and so on. You've heard how it is in the Correspondance." He smiles.

"At any rate, it's nice to come out this far here and there. I've never come this way before, and Esgaroth is not without its charm, you understand." He smiled again. "Or, at least its company is enjoyable."

[KatherineEspair]

The fair visage of her features froze a moment in a smile that melted slightly at the mention of pounding the earth upon horse back. ?I?m surprised he didn?t limp. I hate fast horseback riding. Riding is fine, but once I get fast I start to lose control. There is also the danger of low branches and such. I admit that I far prefer walking.? She picked at a piece of invisible dust from her skirt before adding. ?When I was a child I couldn?t stop a horse I was riding. The horse was so determined to go back to the stables that it refused to truly follow directions. It decided the best course of action was to take a path under the trees and result was knocking me off. As it was at a walk of course I managed to have plenty of time to grab the thick limb before me and hold on. It has taught me a rather safe lesson of horseback safety.?

Her lips parted in a sizable grin reserved for her humor. It was a smile that she thought made her look goofy, but nothing was further from the truth. It just made her beautiful. Taking a moment to adjust the fine gloves on her hands, the Lady glanced at Freswinn as she strode by him at a moderate pace.

?Well, if my brother is gone then things should be settling a bit at the house. I?m not quite ready to go back but I figure that a walk might be nice. What say you traveler? Care to enjoy a bit of countryside??

[Freswinn]

"Certainly, if you don't mind the noise of my equipment," he said as he stood back up and adjusted the pack on his back. It didn't carry everything he brought with him, having deposited some into the local inn, but it wasn't light.

"Where I come from, if you can't ride a horse, you're stuck doing rather menial jobs." He smiled a bit as he walked along her left side, matching her pace. "Almost every child is taught how to ride, farm, hunt, and tailor and tan leather, from the first moment they're able. In fact, it's unusual to see someone from Ostairre purchasing readymade clothing." He shrugs. "It sounds laborious, I'm sure, but it's helped the economy a great deal. With hard work comes great reward, and all that. It's probably due to that that we've not seen any true conflict there for a great deal of time." He stops talking for a second. "I guess the point I'm making is, it's nothing special to me to ride a horse. I've been doing it since I was nine or ten years old."

[RedBeard]

From behind the stand of brush I aknowledge all too heartily to myself that my lack of equstrian skills has netted me more than my share of aching muscles and lack of respect.

Attracted by the mumbling sounds of people, I realize that my intrusion may be unwelcomed.

While I have enjoyed the idle passing of day as I walk south... always south, and the occasional chuckle at the lack of the targets response by a wayward arrow, the light goes west, and so must I. I am far enough away and the forest still alive with the sounds of it's denizens to make good cover for my slow retreat so as not to disturb the conversation.

To observe, understand the human condition and lend help only when asked. It is the way that I suspect I should be. Not a priest, yet my heart hasn't given it up. A shepherd with no sheep and not even a staff; I slip back into the forest to find another way around.

[KatherineEspair]

(welcome to the rp Thrakorzog)

?Where I come from, good sir, education makes you a person. To not have one is to be lowly. My family is made of scholars, nurses, and educated merchants Freswinn. When I left my education the first time to marry the Scholar Bard Exavior Espair, My father walked up to him and told him that I was his problem now. I was a problem, not a daughter anymore for I did not have the works read, had not learned the true values of knowledge, and my mathematics is atrocious??

Her pretty brow wrinkled as she added something on a more positive note. ?I of course also have knowledge of Lady Activities that would bring about a generous suitor if it pleased me. As I used to write you, I have taken lessons on dance for more than half my life. Oh! And of course I draw well and can speak a good conversation in both Elvin and common.? Her smile floated to the surface, it was one of pride before fading again. ?It does not stop my father from thinking any more of me of course... my name means ?failure? to them. Education is what I returned here for, and I can only hope it makes me happy.?

With quick thought, the lady then changed the subject. ?I admit that riding horse back was a rather tiresome duty left to my sister and brother. She learned because she looked good doing it and he did it because he wanted to look good too. I admit that vanity seems a turn in my family if in any. Yet, what are we but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn. I read that once.? She grinned and added as she set down her weapon and started down the nearest forest path. ?I am an avid reader of books. I read more than any of my family yet I do not read enough on instruction they say. You know, it was the hardest thing to do for me? to leave my friends and return here.?

Silence followed as her skirts brushed the low grasses on the path. Her eyes unfocused slightly as the expression upon her features spoke of inward thoughts. ?I wonder some times?? She hesitated before continueing. ?If I speak more to calm my mind or to gratify yours. Your too quiet Freswinn.?

[Freswinn]

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his boots as if to collect his thoughts. "I speak what needs to be spoken, nothing extenuate. I am a tool of the masses, more than to myself. It is why I gave up my family name to the Correspondance.

"And education, yes. Education is a great tool, and foolish is any who seek to cut it from their disposal. Information is the most powerful weapon anyone could have -- whether it be of a particular school of study, or what some may consider trivial or colloquial. You do not seem uninformed in any way, Lady Katherine; study is only half of it, and though it is a shame that your father cannot see it this way, you should feel pride in your endeavors, as I do not see you take them lightly."

He looks to her, taking on a slightly more serious tone. "Many think that the Correspondance is a bit of a cult, stealing away the strongest and bravest of the communities to do their bidding -- and I admit, the pomp and circumstance we sometimes bring with ourselves can be... dare I say, intimidating. But of course, it is not our intent; thus why we never send but one or two members of the Correspondance to a situation unless absolutely necessary. We are somewhat like the paladins, though we do not follow any faith. Our job is merely to keep the peace and resolve tense situations; and, failing that, we are well-equipped and well-trained to defend ourselves and others."

After a moment of thought, he adds, "I do not think it is necessarily that I am quiet, but that many don't want to hear what I have to say, since it rarely involves them. Does that make sense?"

[Argyll]

Before she could answer, both Freswinn and Katherine became chillingly aware of an alien sound resonating through trees. It was a noise akin to the slow canter of a steed, but it's footfalls were much heavier, and accompanied by a deep steaming breath, that sounded more as though ti was cast from the nostrils of some mythic drake, than any living animal.

And then, beyond the trees the shape of it revealed itself. It was a horse indeed, yet not a horse. Firstly, it was near twice the size, in girth and height, of any horse either of them had ever seen. Where the fine shining coat of well groomed horse should have been, was thick and long matted hair, and perched loftily atop it's muscled neck was a massive equine head that sprouted massive curled rams horns.

Riding bareback on this massive beast, sitting atop no more than thick wool lashed around it's torso, was a fully armored warrior unlike any kind seen in hundreds of years. He wore a fine maille hauberk of half length sleeves over a dark tartan tunic in the Viking fashion, whose sleeve ends disappeared beneath brass studded bracers of toughened hide. Over his maille he wore an ornate dark hide cuirass, richly bound in distinct Celtic knot work. From ankle to knee, his legs were covered in similarly designed greeves. Between a a thick wooden round shield wrapped in hide strapped to his back, was a long dark green riding cloak. His face was not yet distinguishable, as it was masked beneath a sun-lit steel helm, of Nordic design, it's face highlighted by the customary "goggle" eye protection, and cheek flaps on both flanks of his face, and a vail of chain descending from the rear of the stunning work of iron.

From his swordbelt hung a long sword, of a shine alien to that of any known metal. His right hand clenched strongly around it's leather bound hilt.

"A year ago you would be dead, and by now I would be riding homebound with your heads draped from Dratha's neck here. Fortunately for you my kin and I have found some enlightenment since then, but our compassion is but a drop in an empty goblet."
There was no lie in this man's words. His tone matched his appearance. This man was a leader of some ilk no doubt, but everything about his apperance here was hidden in shadow.

"State your name and purpose, in these sacred lands, strangers. The hour is near late, and it has been long before new skulls have been cast into our pit. This night may see blood spilt yet lest your intrusion be brought to a swift end."

This warrior must have been psychotic. He was a lone rider armed with but a sword and shield making threats within bow shot. of the two companions

[Freswinn]

Without an ounce of caution or fear, Freswinn took a half-step forward, not a single motion to his sword and never raising his shield. He spoke firmly and evenly, yet with no attempt at intimidation. "I am Freswinn the Guildhearted, and," he continued, stepping briefly from his own belief that those of the opposite gender may introduce themselves, "she is the Lady Katherine Espair. Forgive my saying, but I do not believe you are in the right place, for this is still the dominion of the city of Esgaroth. The city has stood here for a great deal of time, perhaps longer than most understand."

[Argyll]

"I am aware of this claim, as my ancestors were aware of the claims of the Romans before you, and those of the Picts before them. Our presence amongst the trees is one that has lasted since long before even your eldest kin, no doubt in that. This land was given to us by the very soul of this earth himself, Ginneigh, and it is in his name that we keep it." The Celt paused at let his words sink in.
"There have been many riders of your 'Esragoth', as you proclaim it, that have not returned to their homes after voyaging too far in these woods. Your people have not been hostile too us, and though your claim to these trees is false, we will let time take it's toll on your kingdom, as we have done for ages, but know that these woods are not and can never be yours, and to trespass into them is to call upon the wrath of Ginneigh. Turn back now, or you shall know the power orant of that has dwelt so close to you in these woods for generations, and in complete ignorance of your people in all their hubris".

[KatherineEspair]

The Lady pursed her lips into a pretty frown as She tilted Her head in thought. Her response to Freswinn never came as the sound of horse and rider was brought to her ears and she took a few steps back guardedly behind her walking companion. Inwardly she wished she had remembered her bow.

The soft cotton of her skirts wrinkled as her hands reached to grab at them and squeeze them in her fists. She doubted she could outrun that animal, but it did not mean she wouldn't try if she had to.

The Man's voice boomed over the trees and seemed to speak more to the place in a whole than to herself and Freswinn. Ivory shoulders shifted as she made her way near a tree and leaned against it casually.

"Greetings Stranger and welcome to the bounderies between the wild world and that of my humble home. I have heard your warnings and respect their meaning though I see no reason we can not find peace in a little walk through the beauty of the forest. What brings you so close to where bounderies meet? Are you simply looking to cause trouble for two simple onlookers of nature's beauty.?"

Long fingered hands let go of her skirts and curled together elegantly as she watched the figure with interest. They certainly rode a lovely beast. A bit of wind teased the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. She wasn't one to enjoy danger unless she stepped with purpose towards it.

[Argyll]

"These woods and the beauty you find in them would have long since been reduced to ash and ruin, before even your birth, it were it not for the protection my people provide for it. You see me as some mischeif maker, a mere nuisance whose existence only serves to spoil your quiet walk. Know that you two are far more than a mere nuisance to me. Your very presence in these lands threatens the very fabric of the surivival of these woods."
The Celt's amiable warnings were no being contrasted by a vicious frown forming from his mouth. Even through the eye guards of his helm, a fire no burnt in his eyes, beneath starkly furrowed brows.

His voice now was raised in an anger that spoke of any even darker emotion being withheld, "Now, young Freswinn, you must leave this place immeadiately. I am the end of my words. Leave now, and do not return"
He unclippled the leather lash that fastened the hilt of his sword to it's scabbard.
"Katherine Espair, you have made a grave error in showing your face here. The trees speak to me, the wind whispers in my ear, the rocks, and the animals, and all living things around us tell me that you are the defiler of our most sacred tree. The tree you have so arrogantly cast your fell arrows into, may still sprout green leaves but it's soul has long since been killed by your ignorance. You will come now to me in my hall and face the will of the Green God for your evils!"
The man squeezed his mount between his legs and lead his horse to claim her.

[Freswinn]

"You and I have yet to establish trust," Freswinn said sternly, hand rising to unclasp the pack on his back from across his chest. "There is a cultural difference here that needs to be explored further. The simple fact of the matter is that, though your culture is older, you do not necessarily understand more of the world. The Lady Katherine is my friend, and she will not be accompanying you; not with such baseless threats and demands, and not while you still show to us threats on her very life. I think it is time you begin to explain yourself in less vague terms, before this turns into something it has no need of becoming."

[Argyll]

"I have no care for your trust, man. I care only that your being leaves these woods, and the lady and I to our own business. Your actions in the next few moments will dictate the manner in which you leave these woods, be it on your own accord, or your souls release from the steaming carcass my blade will leave behind. As for my vagueness, let me be as clear as you can understand. Your kingdom's claim to these woods is false, and those of your kingdom who have ventured here in the past have had their lives taken from them. You presence here defiles that which is most sacred to my people, and if you remain here, you will pay dearly. You could never understand the culture of my people, and you have no right too. My quarrell was not with you, but you most obviously wish it to be, and I am prepared to do what I must to you in your weakness to satisfy the god whom you have payed sacrilege on this day"
The Celt unsheathed his longsword, and a long hum resonated from its blinding blade, hinting again at the strange origin of its composition, and its wielder in the same right.
A foul grin formed across the mouth of the Celt and his tone became wickedly gleeful, "and as for your notions of the safety of this lass once she is in my custody, let me dispell them for you. I have every intention of seeing that every last drop of her lifeblood leaves her in slow painful agony. The Green God will be much pleased, as will I, to watch her suffer."

[Freswinn]

With a brief sigh, Freswinn throws his heater shield aside, and drops his pack to the ground. The lancier sword that was tucked between his pack and his back falls, but Freswinn catches it, then turns it and draws the sheath from the blade; three foot blade, three foot hilt. He takes a low lunging stance, the butt of the hilt sitting against the heel of his boot, left hand holding it up at an angle. "Katherine, when this begins, you are to stay behind me. We will find our way to your bow and back to the city. Until then, help yourself to anything you find in my pack."

((OOC: let's wait for her now, shall we?))

[Argyll]

The thrill of the ensuing bout caused a smirk to form in the Celt's mouth. Reaching around his back side, he pulled a large bull horn, with ornate gold rings binding it at it's opening and and it's endpoint to a braided leather strap around his shoulder. He inhaled and brought the horn to his lips, and exhaled and a long caucaphonous humming wail resounded through the forest. The trees stirred and flocks of birds revealed themselves into the darkeing sky, and headed north.
"From up hear, your skull would be far to easy to split."
The man unsaddled himself and came to a stance on the ground. He patted his beast on the shoulder and forced him to turn, revealing a weapon that had been draped from the hidden flank of the animal. It was a long mace-like weapon, about 4 feet in length. The Handle and halt made up about two-thirds of it's overall length. It's head was a wickedly flanged bludgeon, with it's 6 spines extending from the central core to form an overall thickness similar to the upper leg of a well built man. Extending from the tip of this strange thing, was a six inch spike, capable of piercing a man deeply. The Celt unhooked the weapons pommel from his mount. He hit his animal firmly and sent him waiting a few paces away.
He held the weapon in front of him horizontally. His right hand grasping it's handle, and his left supporting its head.
"This is Dardfahtoch, The Hammer of the Mountain in your tongue."
He tightened his grip around the center of it's massive handle, and let it's head fall to the ground before his feet, making a solid thud, and stirring the dead leaves around it. His stance was one of confident readiness, although he put up no guard.

(ooc: this is actually my first RP, and I am not quite sure as to how a fight between two characters takes place. I wouldn't want to call you dead, and I wouldn't want you to do the same to me. basically any clue as to some RP fighting etiquette would be appreciated)

[KatherineEspair]

((Well, Freswinn and I are old rp vets. My own rp fighting is rusty, but I bet he can help you through that.))

The world was slowly revealing the ugly side of its nature before Katherine?s eyes. A rumbling was picked up on the delicate shell of her ears, the wind spoke of a storm moving in. For a Lady she seemed to be doing quite a bit less screaming or panicking, and proved to be taking on a posture of alert interest. Her hands bunched along her skirts as she lifted the first layer up and tucked them into her belt before grabbing a handful of underskirt and chemise and stepping back behind Freswinn.

Blue eyes flickered with understanding, there was much she didn?t know in this world but when it was violence she was actually far more reasonable. At this point she could see conversation was beginning to bore the man on the horse and her features seemed to mirror a dislike for what was obviously coming. ?I see there is no sway. I am sorry to hear that your single most beloved tree happens to be planted right outside the archery range that has been there for a good fifty years. It would seem apparent that this is a slow and burning anger for your people. ?There a small prick of guilt within her, possibly due to the fact that she liked living things and rarely ate animals due to that fact. The tree behind the archery target she had grown up with had earned her respect as a child. It was bold and proud with scares of battles it had won across its surface. How was she to know that someone out there saw it as a sacred tree?

Now standing behind Freswinn, she backed off a bit more and to the left. This was to stay away from the full swing of his sword arm and have a clear look at the enemy from the trees nearer her home. Luckily they had only gone a little ways into the forest and she could still see the range through the trunks. The bow she craved was sitting on a rest where she had left it. Usually she would pick it up after taking a walk and do a few more shots before turning and heading for home. People didn?t usually bother Katherine, she was? unusual.

The accents on the Celt reminded her a bit of Fergus. A man she knew from the Company. Sweat tasted of her palms and soaked into her skirt, the daylight was fading towards evening.

[Argyll]

The Celt adressed Freswinn again, "I'll be kind, whoreson. Make the first move". He remained firm in his nonchalant stance. He looked more at rest than ready for battle, but it was a bold show of confidence , nontheless.
He had noticed Katherine eyeing the clearing and the range ahead, and became aware of the bow that she would seek.

[Freswinn]

"What foolishness..." Rising from his stance, his voice grows louder. "And I suppose you want to give me all the time in the world to prepare for battle, too?" His words aimed to strike at Argyll's very cultural precepts. "You were a coward to begin your assail on horseback, and now you are a coward to stand there and spew your useless insults! Do not delay this any longer. COME TO ME! I will send you to any God you wish."

[Argyll]

The word "coward" bored itself into the Celt's very soul. His mind shut itself off and gave in completely to his rage. His eyes glazed over, and with great anger, he brought his weapon up and gripped the top of its long handle with his left hand, and slid his right down to the base of it, above the pommel. Now the endless hours of training he had taken on since boyhood came back to his subconsious. With great fury and might he lunged forward and reached out with the piercing spike at the end of his mace, feighning a stab and before making contact with Freswinne's torso he slides his weapon through the air to the left and twists his body with it, making a complete rotation with his body, and bringing the heavy head of his mace careening downward towards the corner created by Freswinne's neck and shoulder

[Freswinn]

Freswinn narrowed his eyes, then stepped back so that his right foot was trailing, hands spacing over the three-foot hilt of his sword, left hand at the bottom and right at the top. As the spike came forward, his arms extended the sword vertical to meet the spike along the side and contact against the brunt of the mace, which through leverage would then send the mace sideways and throw Freswinn slightly off-balance. But at that time, Argyll turned to throw his attack at Freswinn. The full turn gave him time enough to scramble into a somersault and dodge the impact. He regained his footing, and quickly checked his weapon for damage.

[KatherineEspair]

The world took a backseat as the men took to combat. Kat Espair?s muscles tensed as she hiked her skirts to her knees in an unlady-like manner and darted behind a tree. The foliage here was not that thick as winter had made leaves and even branches sparse this year. It could be said that she was quite dexterous for the branches had trouble holding onto her as she bent out of their ways and narrowed her path. If asked she probably would have told the questioner that she was simply slender and easily able to get between places most could not. Her hand grasped a fallen branch on her way by a willowy looking plant whose stripped winter state looked to be its last.

The branch was thin and long, however it was also too heavy for her and she dropped it with a curse and continued off towards the target at a gate that would remind horses of frolicking days. It was odd, but she did have an odd run in the forest paths. It was not the run of someone trained to life one?s feet just so but instead one of a girl who had frolicked in dense conditions in skirts and had learned to get them all over tree trunks in one go.

The clash of weapons was now a sensitive item on her subconscious as her feet concentrated on where they were going. Kat was sensitive now to the lack of sound as well as the portrayal of it. She had been on enough grounds of violence for that.

[Argyll]

Argyll, whistled to his mount who waited patiently among the trees pointing towards the escaping Katherine. The beast exhaled, and started towards the fleeing Katherine with great speed. The steed closed behind her and was a few gallops from running her down...

Still in the moment of the battle, Argyll raised his great mace above his head focusing on Freswynn who had narrowly dodged his attack and now with all his momentum and weight came swinging down to meet Freswynn's body...

[Freswinn]

Closing the distance quickly, Freswinn darted partially to the side, lifting his arms to strike the long surface of the hilt along Argyll's arm in order to knock the mace's path to the side and miss, while Freswinn himself, unable to stop his momentum, would ram into the left side of Argyll's body and, using the turning force that would produce, slash the well-leveraged three-foot blade across for Argyll's leg.

[Argyll]

Argyll staggered backward from the hip check Freswynn dealt him, as he released the grip of his right arm, which he felt lose it functioning capabilities, from the top of his mace's handle. He narrowly pivoted his leg away from a slash that would have taken his leg out completely from underneath, but instead only nicked the soft unarmored meet of his mid thigh, causing him to stagger downward onto his knee. Filled with rage and reeling from the savage hack that had cut entirely through his right bracer, and splintering his right forearm bone, he lunged forth with his left hand and reached out to pierce the ever open belly of freswynn...

[Freswinn]

With a grunt, Freswinn saw he had no way to correct his stance to block the incoming spike with his sword again, and was forced to kick it away; one of the flanges pierces the sole of his boot and lascerates the arch of his foot, sending him reeling to the ground in pain. In response, from his crumpled stance on his left side, he does approximately the same thing that Argyll had just done, stabbing the six-foot sword from just above the pommel straight out for Argyll's chest. His injured foot dug into the leaves on the forest floor, and his right hand grabbed for the broadsword pinned between his hip and the ground, desperately trying to draw it.

[Argyll]

Argyll, flipped the mace to it's inverse, with head downward with his left hand and simultaneously rose barely off of his knee and parried the jab across him to the right. Now within arm length of his enemy Argyll came down hard with a downward stab aiming for Freswynn lower abdomen whilst reaching around his back with his bad hand to grasp the studded wooden handle of his scramasax fastened horizontally across the back of his belt...

[Freswinn]

Freswinn draws the sword back, then rolls to his left and draws his broadsword, still gasping in pain from the injury to his foot. With a sword in each hand, he starts to push backwards with his one good leg while stabbing out repeatedly with his lancier sword to keep Argyll at bay as he backs slowly and squirmingly towards his heater shield.

[KatherineEspair]

As Kat ran, her heartbeat began a loud song within her bosom that echoed somewhere in the depths of her ears. It was the horse hooves that told her what was behind her, and with a small smile she felt the adrenalin begin to pump? the sounds of the animal approaching as it zipped between trees in an animate charge. Long skirts fluttered prettily, but with the kind of usefulness of swan?s wings on an elephant: No matter how lovely they are, they had no practical use.

The lady was surprisingly agile, and made a straight path through the trees. This would have been a good thing if it didn?t give the horse time to speed up it?s charge.. the distant sound of hoof beats galavanted quickly after her. Timing came to a heartbeat as she leaped at a branch, caught it, and changed her path?s direction by as good few degrees. She herself could not have made the turn that fast, but with the help of the branch her two legs came off the ground and landed for another burst of running towards the thicket to the right side of the forest clearing. With four legs, the horse would have more trouble.

[Argyll]

Not letting Freswinn's opprotunity of weakness pass, Argyll kicks aside his enemy's weak stabs with a greaved shin, causing no mentioned ill effect as it was but the flat of the blade against thickened hide. Argyll then descended down upon his foe, firmly planting his knee into Freswinn's groin, while casting aside his great mace and grabbed the upper portion of his enemy's handle with his left hand and came down with a hard stab with his scramasax in his right hand aiming for the base of Freswinn's neck.

[Freswinn]

Freswinn releases his grip on his lancier sword as he sees Argyll trying to stab him with the scramasax. His left hand sweeps upward, grabbing for Argyll's wrist and pushing it up and to the side, as he then raises from his previous position and moves to pound Argyll on the forehead with the butt of his broadsword while throwing the entirety of his weight forward to tackle him to the ground, then place the tip of his broadsword blade at Argyll's throat.

[Argyll]

*argyll is getting upset, and waiting for some actual damage to be done to freswynn*

Argyll looks up the blade to meet Freswynn's eyes, He then spits on his enemies blade and kicks him between his legs, hearing a satifying crunch. Still holding onto his scramasax he comes to slice Freswynn across the lower leg as he reals in pain, whilst unseathing the long sword at his hip with his left hand and sweeping it forwards towards Freswynn's arm.

[Freswinn]

Freswinn's eyes buldge as the kick lands between his legs. The adrenaline caused by this intense pain allows him to use his training to change the reaction to pain from reeling to revenge, as is the only method remaining to him. Dropping his sword entirely, and ignoring the armor Argyll wears, Freswinn moves to throw a hard and fast series of punches squarely into Argyll's face until he would go limp.

[KatherineEspair]

((alrighty then...))

She raced onward. The horse was left behind as it may have tried to slow down or change direction. Neither would have been easy at this point and she hoped that her luck would hold as she dropped her skirts and fought her way through the brush. Material tore as She raced passed.. saved by the thick layers that was between Her ivory flesh and the teeth of plants. It had slowed her down a bit, but it was far safer than backtracking past that horse.

Streds of material danced about her booted feet as she raced along the edge of the forest back towards the archery targets. Kat's hair had become a tangle of frizzy ringlets that bounced along her shoulders in a wave that seemed to be screaming for a hairdresse"Mental note" She muttered "dress more sensibly when arching.. never know what is going to come after you... greif *pant*"

[Argyll]

Argyll, was thankful he wore his helmet, that day, and only a two of freswynn's punches landed anywhere near his flesh, leaving freswynn's knuckles in a bloody damaged mess. Argyll, performed a leg sweep that sent his enemy flat on his back, allowing the celt to elevate and come swinging downward with his longsword..

While his strength and determination were very much intact, Argyll's consiousness was leaving him as the blood flowed from the wound in his thigh...

The simple minded beast that had chased Katherine, now wandered dumbly, waiting for some order from his master...

[Freswinn]

By now, Freswinn was practically drunk with pain. As the sword came down, he did the only thing he could think to do, and lifted his foot to kick at Argyll's forearm and stop him from splitting him open. He then rolled away and crawled as quickly as he could, coming to his heater shield and placing it on his arm. Underneath his shield was his pack, which he had no time to get into.

[Argyll]

Likewise, Argyll swung his round shield around from his back into position on his wounded right arm. Argyll, now whistled to his idle mount, his Chevroth.

"Dratha, run him trough!"

The beast heeded Argyll's call and galloped towards Frewinn with aims to crush him beneath his massive hooves.

At the same moment Argyll rushed towards Freswinn, with his sword point forward, and shield covering him from chin to mid thigh. The Celt reached out to thrust the end of his blade into Freswinn's chest...

[KatherineEspair]

She could hear the call of a voice and the sound of hoof beats running away. Nervously, she slowed in her gate as she took to look over her right shoulder and see the silhouette of a figure through the greens. Eyes narrowed with determination as she turned to valiantly head for her bow, jumping over a stump and then tripping over her own skirts in a dive to the ground.

Grumbling, she began to disentangle herself in a sheepish manner... the bruises stinging in protest... so much for ladylike grace... leave it for the ladies.

"For the love of pete!" she growled, listening to material rip as she squirmed to find a foothold that didn't reveal clothing beneath.

[Olos]

As Olos walked through the well-kept grass, he reminisced about the fields like this that he had practiced at so many times in the past, before and after starting this new life he had been leading for a few years now. The peaceful bliss, nothing to worry about but his arrow hitting the target. Things were different now, he had to worry about armor, the sharp blades on his arrows, the sharp blade at his side, and those of other people. It wasn't so simple anymore, but he could still remember those old days. As he walked up to the firing line, he saw a familiar item. The bow he had given to Katherine a while back, replacing her ratty old one, though for some reason she had protested a great deal that her old bow had many memoiries of days long, or something like that. Olos, however, used weapons as tools, not beatiful in themselves, but accomplishing a needed purpose, and only got attached to them as long as they served him well.

"I wonder where she went without her bow" he thought to himself, recalling that she usually kept it within sight while shooting. Olos grabbed the bow and an arrow, strung the arrow, drew back, and fired at the target. "hrm, her bow always did hit a little to the left" he said, as he looked at the arrow, about 40 yards away, a little less than a foot to the left of the target's center.

Presently, his reminiscing was brought to an abrupt end by the familiar sounds of clanking metal, shouting, and pounding hoofbeats off to his left. Curious as to why those sounds would be coming from a peaceful area of the world such as this, he lightened his steps and started to walk forward. Then, looking into the woods, he began to see flashes of white darting between the trees, something was on it's way out of the woods in a hurry. Olos nocked anther arrow on Katherine's bow, and moved to place himself about 15 yards away from where the thing would come crashing out of the woods.

Then, when it was about out, he noticed that it had entered some underbrush and not came out. Olos advanced, bow half-drawn towards the thrashing creature. Noticing it was what appeared to be a rather worn out, cut up, panting lady in a tattered dress who was thrashing at the ground and weeds around her. Setting the bow aside, Olos reached down, grabbed her by both biceps, and lifted her up, surprisingly to eye leve. Then he finally realized who it was.

"SKINNY CHICK?!" he was almost yelling, but managed to tone his voice down after the initial shock and happiness, though not completely, "What in hell are you doing here?!"

[KatherineEspair]

The chaos reigned behind her and in front of her was the only solace she knew... her bow. Thorns tore at her skirts as she managed to get to her knees and spit out the blood in her mouth. She shuddered as she felt a tiny sting on her right cheek, glad it had not been her tongue. Cussing had begun under her breath now as she noticed her right shoulder was bleeding as well, the chemise?s sleeve would be ruined. The world would be a rainbow of colors if such language could make the world blush.

Within her anger, Kat was unprepared for the feeling of hands on her slender arms... the weight of her body suddenly pulled upwards and stood at arm?s length from a face. Anger boiled fiercely now in embracement as the features spoke a few things she didn?t get as she was too busy trying to form the words to tell it to get lost. The fact that they were loud words wasn?t helping. ???????????? *the accent was gone, Kat Espair had switched gears.. Skinny chick erupted*

?EXCUSE me! Do you have any decency?!? Let go of me this instant you dirty son of a chicken!! I?m doing my laundry! Don?t you usually go to an archery range when you?. ????????????..Oh?..

OLOS!?

[Freswinn]

As Argyll closed the distance and the beast charged on, Freswinn was using his last fleeting moments of rational thought to calculate who would get there first. Deciding it would be Argyll, he quickly formulated a plan. "You contemptable FOOL!" he yelled as Argyll came forward to stab him, swinging his heater shield up, and then his left leg out to catch Argyll's foot along the top and send him toppling over onto Freswinn's shield, using the unbalanced force to his advantage and pushing Argyll to one side -- the side from which Argyll's beast approached.

[Argyll]

Anticipating that Freswynn's would attempt to put Argyll in the path of his own beast, he had already prepared himself for the next complicated maneauver. As Argyll slid down his enemy's shield towards his beasts path, he sheathed his longsword and and planted his good leg on the ground. He reached up with a leather gauntleted hand to grab the thick matted furs of his Chevroth, and fling himself up and over onto it's back. He slung his sheild back over his shoulder as Dratha charged over Freswynn. He rode his mount quickly around Freswynn, back towards Lady Katherine's path towards the bow she sought. He made haste towards the clearing, quickly coming to wheare katherine shoudl have been who ran on foot through thick brush in heavy skirts, whilst Argyll trudged through a more easily navigable horse pass alongside the foliage. Pulling his scramasax fom his back again, he cut a helping of plaid wool from the skirts of his Tunic, he bound his bleeding leg. Having done that and nearing the clearing, he looked back at his wounded right forearm which he had thought to be worse than it was. He felt the blade cut through his bracer and into his bone, but found that his bracer was only somewhat damaged, the blade cut half way through it's toughened hide, and the damage he felt to the underlying flesh was some intense bruising no doubt, but not the bone shattering he had at first felt. And within the moment he was in the clearing, and the bow Katherine was running for was in not in plain view where it shoudl have been. He looked around frantically, and there was the dishevled lady katherine, joined by an older man, who now both of them were staring at the Celt. In Katherine's reach was her bow. Having no time to think of anything better, Argyll charged his beast towards Olos and Katherine, 25 meters away...

[Olos]

(woot got time to post at lunch)

As he saw the warrior crashing through the woods back out to the Archery line, Olos forgot his meeting and quarrel with Kat, quickly telling her to get her bow and get ready to run as he strung his own and placed an arrow on the string. ?get ready to move Kat, I?ve heard stories before about people in these woods before, we have made friends with some of them in other parts, but this one looks unfamiliar, and quite hostile on top of that.?

As the warrior was coming upon the shooting line, Olos formulated a bit of plan. He took his shield off of his back, and leaned it against his left leg, making about a 45 degree angle between straight and left. This shield was one of his exceptions to the no attachment policy he had kept. It was given to him upon joining the company. It was a fairly large round shield, about 30 inches across, made of a wood core with a steel faceplate and steel reinforcements inside. The entire shield was sable, with nothing but a large, bright steel ring, about 2 inches in thickness and 15 inches across, concentric with the outside of the shield. Due to its construction, it was quite light for the protection it offered, and it suited Olos?s combat style. He hadn?t yet found anything that could come close to replacing it.

As the warrior saw Olos and Kat, Olos met his gaze unflinchingly, bow at the ready, pointed somewhat downward. The warrior saw a man about the same height as Kat. Olos didn?t look very aged in body, but one could tell that his eyes had seen many things, leaving him aged beyond his years, and those eyes held no fear. He had been through what some might call hell with his brothers, but making it out alive, he was definitely a changed man. At the moment, the only armor Olos had was his sleeveless chainmail shirt, silver rings, with a design of black rings forming a circle in the center of his chest. His sword, about 33 inches long, hung off of his left hip. It looked to be about a cross between a greek/roman style short sword, with a handle and blade reminiscent of the european style. It?s sheath was black and undecorated. Olos wore some plain black pants, with relatively nothing covering his arms, he had left the armor for his arms and legs at the inn in town where he was staying. On his back, he carried a light pack containing little more than rations for a couple days, a small survival knife, and some simple tools incase his bow were to break.

The instant the strange warrior gave the order to his horse to charge, Olos?s bow was drawn and made ready to fire. Olos readied a shot at the chest of the warrior starting to charge him in a very menacing manner. Just after releasing the shot, he thought ?****? to himself as the arrow landed firmly in the beast's horns ?of course it's gotta have a thick skull? Quickly nocking another arrow, this time Olos had a better idea. He drew back a couple inches to give the arrow some more stopping power, and aimed his shot at the line created by the beast's left legs, just below the reach of it's horns, just above it's knees. Timing the arrow to land there right before it's legs touched earth, Olos released the arrow. Then, not looking to see if the arrow hit, but knowing that at this short distance , as the beast was now only about 12 meters away, his skill never missed, Olos slipped his arm into his shield straps, and made a dash to his left, the side opposite of the legs of the horse that he shot, hoping that it would crash in the other direction.

[KatherineEspair]

Kat heard the change of battle within the forest and turned at the sound of hooves heading for the exit of the dirt path nearby. Olos?s hands left her shoulders as one releases a bird, her form whirling in a mess of tattered cloth as she grabbed her bow and stole an arrow from Olos?s quiver. She was of course not armed as Olos was and kept a little distance to his right so as to knock her bow with quickness without hitting him. "Olos.. I don't need to hear about anything, I've seen enough" She grumped.

Skinny chick was a good shot, when allowed to shoot from the hip. None could understand why she aimed worse than she did when she was not thinking about it. This was a puzzle to her instructors whom always chastised her when she obviously wasn?t aiming.

Unlike Olos, the woman at his elbow knew a few soft spots on horses. The bow let loose her first arrow towards the bosom of the animal in a whisper... the silencers on her string taking in the vibrations. Long fingers reached for the second arrow, but Olos was on the move and she had none left to grab at. Cussing, without looking... She darted for the wood line. White wood bow a flicker of movement in her hand as she wasted no time trying to settle it across her shoulder.

[Freswinn]

The beast of burden had landed one hoof squarely into Freswinn's chest, crushing its way through his ribs and puncturing his lung. Suffocating and barely able to move, with consciousness escaping him, he frantically scrambled for his pack, dumping it across the ground, retrieving a dagger and his healing potion. Without second thought, he stabbed himself in the chest where the mare had crushed him, and poured the potion into the wound. He didn't know if it would work, but by now it was his last chance at survival. At the last second, he leaned to his side in case he vomitted after passing out, and then lost consciousness.

[Argyll]

Argyll was in a rage. Each hoofbeat pounding into the grass beneath echoed the steady furious pump of his own heart. Blinded by rage, Argyll cared not for his wellbeing, only for retribution on his enemies he now faced.

The man shot two arrows, the first planted itself in the ground in front of his animal and the second cut between his animals legs. He could not see beneath him or his mount, but he felt the animals whinny and knew he had been hit, but not critically because the animal kept blasting towards the two foes before him.

Then the wytch who had paid sacrilege to one of the last sacred trees loosed her own missile, which met it's mark in Drathas breast. Now subtle whinny now, the Chevroth writhed and bellowed as he barreled forwards, and came crashing epicly into the ground. Argyll flung himself forward off of the beast, to avoid being crushed by it's great weight, as such had been the end of his father, whose leg was crushed beneath his own Chevroth, forcing him to fight wounded and to the death against countless enemies.
Argyll came crashing to the ground. He attempted to land on his feet but the wieght of his armor and weapons did not allow for a graceful landing, and he was thrown backwards off his feet. He gave himself only the time to curse and shout once in his pain, but not to relish in it. He was off his feet and running towards Katherine with his shield on his arm in seconds. She was a good 5 paces away as he unsheathed his sword.
He could see her eyes know. The eyes that guided the missle that had felled Dratha. Dratha had been the last of his breed. His closest kin all killed in the battle where everything was lost to the Norsemen. Argyll remembered the faces of his bretheren that fell, and he remembered his fathers last breaths. He remembered the Oath he swore to his father in his last moments... ?Like some dark creature we will stalk the woods, and the moors, and wherever our enemies dwell. We will never let them forget His name. In Ginneigh?s name I shall avenge you father. I shall avenge every treason put upon our people and our God. I will slit every throat in Scotland, I will hew off every head on this Great Island, and I will crush the earth beneath my boot before I suffer to let the enemy forget our name. Die well, father. Ride now, and go to Him.?
Argyll and his O Raghaillaighs had since become legend, killing all who were ignorant in their ways and brave and foolish enough to trespass on his sacred lands. Argyll was the third of his name, and heir to the throne of his people, a throne that had been burned and broken, like all things of his clan. His life had been one of hatred, bloodshed, and vengeance, and despite that which had been taught to him by the Fianna in Eire, and their lessons of peace and compasson, he felt nothing know besides the dark misanthropic flame of retribution burning in him now, and his insatiable thirst to murder this lady Katherine and her friends who defended her.