IoM: Claira post #4, unfinished.
Jul. 18th, 2006 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreWhoa. The Claira post (#4) that never made it to the list! SEE WHY. :P
"Plan and Practice" (Claira, et all)
-------------------------------------
Artolian Wilderness, vaguely North-East
November 30 - Before Sunrise -
-------------------------------------
"You little fool..." It was her own voice, echoing in a vast chamber. She could feel tears on her cheeks, though why they were there was beyond her. There was no recollection, just... existence. Herself, the chamber, and a crystal.
Something was inside. She stepped closer, and her footsteps rang, metal striking marble. But it was too bright, and whatever it contained was buried too deeply. "Why...?"
Claira blinked, and the chamber with its crystal was gone, replaced by the fading twinkle of stars in a predawn sky. Tall, fuzzy pines dusted with snow stretched to touch the gray expanse above them, and around her the others could be heard breathing deeply in sleep, one of the knights snoring. A muffled clink and the sound of measured footsteps indicated one of them was still on watch. She turned her head toward the fire, now just burning embers.
Across the clearing was Ashlin, leaning against a tree with her head bowed. Her pale hair fell over her shoulders to shield her face, but beneath her fringe, her pale eyes glinted in the dying light. She was watching.
Why? The thought echoed her question in the dream, and Claira sat up, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes. Her fingers came away wet, and she stared at them, wiping at her cheeks with her other hand. She cast a sidelong glance at Ashlin again, and found she was still being watched.
Well. It must be odd. They had traveled together a fairly long time, and neither had shed tears before that she could recall. Certainly not over something as silly as a dream.
Claira shook her head and swiped her hand over her eyes with a sigh. Maybe it was an omen. After so many excruciating hours in Jelanda's company, she was sitting here, looking forward to several more. And they would pass out of Artolia's territory before nightfall, if all went well and they did not run into bad weather or some kind of opposition. Such was the plan, and as any hardened traveler knows, no plan can survive wholly intact.
It was going to be another long day.
---
The day was, against all odds, very quiet. Getting Jelanda up and out of her bedroll at sunrise had been a problem, and the winding woodcutter's path they had followed to the camping ground made the going very slow, but once the party reached the caravan route again everything fell smoothly into place. The knights spread out in their customary formation with Ashlin in the lead, and Claira rode at the center beside the sleepy princess, ready to catch the girl should she show signs of falling out of her saddle. Ashlin had suggested letting her fall, but that would only provoke another tantrum, and Claira found she rather liked the princess when she was quiet.
Though the dawn had been clear, the sky was overtaken by dark clouds before their midday meal and the rest of the afternoon was spent in grim anticipation of a storm. Rain was heavy on the air and the wind was cool, but not strong enough to blow the ominous weather over.
"It's not going to rain /again/, is it?" Jelanda muttered from beneath her hood. She looked miserable, huddled in her saddle under cloak and blanket, and looking for all the world like she was freezing to death - or at least that /she/ thought so. "I thought you said the storms were farther north."
Claira shrugged, wrapping her reins around one hand and pulling it under her cloak. "Things change, princess. Weather is the least predictable thing in the world."
She was treated to a sharp sigh, and imagined the princess rolling her eyes under her dark hood. "Why bother trying, then? That's not much help."
"Nor are your complaints, child," she responded tartly, turning her head to level a hard gaze at Jelanda. Most academy candidates were mild-mannered in the presence of a teacher, or at least obedient, and most importantly, /quiet/ - all things the princess was not. It wasn't her place to drill those manners into Jelanda, but after a week of her complaints and waspish remarks, it was sorely tempting. "If you haven't anything useful to say--"
"/Useful/? And just what gives /you/ the right to... to..." Jelanda clenched her teeth and, in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, settled for yanking her horse a few steps away from Claira. There wasn't much room to manuever within the circle of knights.
/Something/ had made an impression on Jelanda, at least. Perhaps the threat of another ambush had convinced her to keep her mouth closed; the bandits in the region south of Aedvans were notorious, at least to seasoned travelers. Word had it they were soldiers sent from Crell Monferaigne to harry Artolia's borders and keep her militia busy, but Claira had yet to see any evidence of that.
She kept her gaze on the girl for a few moments more, watching for signs that the princess wanted to continue their discussion, then turned back to her contemplation of Ashlin's back and tried not to sigh. She didn't like the girl's attitude, and the feeling was mutual; they had taken to snapping at each other for no reason at all, or for the /pleasure/ of it, as Ashlin implied a few nights ago. It was almost routine. While such a thing was excusable for Jelanda, it was not acceptable for a grown adult. If she could just bring herself to /remember/ that during her little flashes of irritation, the trip might be more peaceful. Hadn't she promised herself she wouldn't play along with these games?
/The best plan can fall to pieces in practice./ Promises were often the same.
---
The party reached Aedvans Village with the rise of the moon, and the sight of it drew a sigh of relief from Claira. There had been talk about another night in the woods, and though she would never admit it, she shared Jelanda's feelings on the matter. Alone, Claira would push herself hard to reach the next inn before she rested, and would do the same now if not for the princess's inexperience - Claira was a city-dweller at heart, and longed for the comforts of civilization.
In that way Jelanda was certainly a problem. It was inconvenient to have to take the desires and limitations of others into account when she made her plans. Ashlin was the perfect partner; she didn't need anything.
*****enter transition here
"It's quieter than I expected," Lawfer commented from behind them. "The miners kept it loud and busy last I was here."
"You've been here before?" Jelanda asked.
"Aye, my lady. There are always disturbances along the east road. This place is close to the border with Crell Monferaigne. They drive their criminals out, and we get the trouble they bring."
Jelanda bowed her head and seemed to think on that as they began their descent toward the town. The afternoon had faded to dusk, silencing the woods around them and sending lengthening shadows over the glinting rooftiles of Aedvans. The princess's dark cloak blended with the shadows, only the tip of her pale nose and a hint of golden curls giving hint that she was not born of the darkness.
The knights were not so lucky. They clanked like a tin factory, even at a walk, and their armor flashed red when the dying light hit the plates just right. Claira would have preferred to hire a group of less conspicuous mercenaries, trained to fight without such cumbersome trappings, but the king insisted on the escort - Lombert certainly had - and she did not have the authority to defy either of them. They had done away with their pristine surcoats and decorated armor, but a knight was a knight. It wouldn't take much work to guess they were escorting someone important.
The princess spoke up again, twisting in her saddle to face Lawfer directly. "Are bandits really a problem here?" The tone of her question was peculiarly earnest. "Or is it soldiers? Raiders?"
The knight's gaze slid to Claira. "Raiders?"
"/Yes/." Jelanda frowned. "I've heard my father's advisors talking about it."
He shook his head. "There are attacks, yes, but they do not raid. General consensus is they're testing the strength or our defenses, but it doesn't seem that Crell Monferaigne will attack. There are other dangers in this region that plague both sides of the border this time of year."
"Like?"
Lawfer's face darkened. Claira caught his gaze, and when he hesitated, answered for him. "There are undead roaming the mountains beyond Aedvans. Sometimes they venture down to feed." It was a point of contention between them, the only point upon which the knight had opposed her. He argued, rightly, that the path she wanted to take would present an unnecessary danger to the princess. But she preferred an enemy she could blast to the sort she'd have to negotiate with. "They infest this region come winter. It's no coincidence border hostilities cease with the first snowfall."
There was also the matter of that artifact Ashlin mentioned in Artolia. Another unnecessary danger, but a little experience would do the princess good. Flenceburg wouldn't teach Jelanda how to apply the skills she wanted to learn.
"We're walking into /that/?" There was fear in the girl's voice, though she tried to mask it. "I thought you were supposed to /protect/ me, not drop me into a nest of... of vampires!"
Claira smiled slightly and pet her shoulder. "Vampires don't nest, girl." She turned back to the road and let the princess try to splutter a reply. "Quiet, now. We're getting close."
Their ride into town was uneventful. The dusk darkened to night, and torches had been lit at every street corner. High above the dark storefronts traces of illumination welled through the shutters closed tight against the chill, and the scent of woodsmoke was almost overpowering after the crisp, pine-tinted air of the forest.
Ashlin led the party confidently toward the town center, seemingly unfazed by the dimness and quiet. Her pale hair gleamed almost silver in the moonlight, a fitting lead for their escort of clanking knights, none of whom appeared nearly as comfortable with their surroundings. Aedvans had a reputation for being rowdy this time of year, when miners came down to avoid the harsher winter of the mountains. Called "the sleepless crossroads," it was a haven for both traveler and soldier, the last reasonably wealthy town on the way to the border. Anything closer would be too tempting a target.
It was still early yet. It could be they had not started migrating. Claira would be the first to admit she paid no attention to their kind unless circumstances demanded it.
"Much livelier," she heard Lawfer mutter, before he raised his voice. "Miss Claira, are you sure it's wise to proceed? We might be better off in the woods until sunrise."
"I'd agree, if winter wasn't already upon us." She glanced at the princess, who had been quiet since their last exchange, then moved her gaze to Ashlin. A slight shake of the other woman's head was all she needed. "We're almost to the center of town. If there is trouble, we'll do as you say. For now I prefer this to the dangers the night may hold."
"It could just be a precaution," Ashlin said. "It's not unheard of for certain creatures to seek out towns and other large gatherings."
"As you say." Though he sounded dissatisfied, Lawfer fell silent.
-
. . .
Unfinished, naturally. :P It was supposed to end with Claira and company walking into the hornet's nest surrounding Raeger, who was accused of causing the death outlined in Judas post #2 and Raeger post #1. Thus, most of the final group would have gotten together, lacking only Judas himself.
"Plan and Practice" (Claira, et all)
-------------------------------------
Artolian Wilderness, vaguely North-East
November 30 - Before Sunrise -
-------------------------------------
"You little fool..." It was her own voice, echoing in a vast chamber. She could feel tears on her cheeks, though why they were there was beyond her. There was no recollection, just... existence. Herself, the chamber, and a crystal.
Something was inside. She stepped closer, and her footsteps rang, metal striking marble. But it was too bright, and whatever it contained was buried too deeply. "Why...?"
Claira blinked, and the chamber with its crystal was gone, replaced by the fading twinkle of stars in a predawn sky. Tall, fuzzy pines dusted with snow stretched to touch the gray expanse above them, and around her the others could be heard breathing deeply in sleep, one of the knights snoring. A muffled clink and the sound of measured footsteps indicated one of them was still on watch. She turned her head toward the fire, now just burning embers.
Across the clearing was Ashlin, leaning against a tree with her head bowed. Her pale hair fell over her shoulders to shield her face, but beneath her fringe, her pale eyes glinted in the dying light. She was watching.
Why? The thought echoed her question in the dream, and Claira sat up, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes. Her fingers came away wet, and she stared at them, wiping at her cheeks with her other hand. She cast a sidelong glance at Ashlin again, and found she was still being watched.
Well. It must be odd. They had traveled together a fairly long time, and neither had shed tears before that she could recall. Certainly not over something as silly as a dream.
Claira shook her head and swiped her hand over her eyes with a sigh. Maybe it was an omen. After so many excruciating hours in Jelanda's company, she was sitting here, looking forward to several more. And they would pass out of Artolia's territory before nightfall, if all went well and they did not run into bad weather or some kind of opposition. Such was the plan, and as any hardened traveler knows, no plan can survive wholly intact.
It was going to be another long day.
---
The day was, against all odds, very quiet. Getting Jelanda up and out of her bedroll at sunrise had been a problem, and the winding woodcutter's path they had followed to the camping ground made the going very slow, but once the party reached the caravan route again everything fell smoothly into place. The knights spread out in their customary formation with Ashlin in the lead, and Claira rode at the center beside the sleepy princess, ready to catch the girl should she show signs of falling out of her saddle. Ashlin had suggested letting her fall, but that would only provoke another tantrum, and Claira found she rather liked the princess when she was quiet.
Though the dawn had been clear, the sky was overtaken by dark clouds before their midday meal and the rest of the afternoon was spent in grim anticipation of a storm. Rain was heavy on the air and the wind was cool, but not strong enough to blow the ominous weather over.
"It's not going to rain /again/, is it?" Jelanda muttered from beneath her hood. She looked miserable, huddled in her saddle under cloak and blanket, and looking for all the world like she was freezing to death - or at least that /she/ thought so. "I thought you said the storms were farther north."
Claira shrugged, wrapping her reins around one hand and pulling it under her cloak. "Things change, princess. Weather is the least predictable thing in the world."
She was treated to a sharp sigh, and imagined the princess rolling her eyes under her dark hood. "Why bother trying, then? That's not much help."
"Nor are your complaints, child," she responded tartly, turning her head to level a hard gaze at Jelanda. Most academy candidates were mild-mannered in the presence of a teacher, or at least obedient, and most importantly, /quiet/ - all things the princess was not. It wasn't her place to drill those manners into Jelanda, but after a week of her complaints and waspish remarks, it was sorely tempting. "If you haven't anything useful to say--"
"/Useful/? And just what gives /you/ the right to... to..." Jelanda clenched her teeth and, in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, settled for yanking her horse a few steps away from Claira. There wasn't much room to manuever within the circle of knights.
/Something/ had made an impression on Jelanda, at least. Perhaps the threat of another ambush had convinced her to keep her mouth closed; the bandits in the region south of Aedvans were notorious, at least to seasoned travelers. Word had it they were soldiers sent from Crell Monferaigne to harry Artolia's borders and keep her militia busy, but Claira had yet to see any evidence of that.
She kept her gaze on the girl for a few moments more, watching for signs that the princess wanted to continue their discussion, then turned back to her contemplation of Ashlin's back and tried not to sigh. She didn't like the girl's attitude, and the feeling was mutual; they had taken to snapping at each other for no reason at all, or for the /pleasure/ of it, as Ashlin implied a few nights ago. It was almost routine. While such a thing was excusable for Jelanda, it was not acceptable for a grown adult. If she could just bring herself to /remember/ that during her little flashes of irritation, the trip might be more peaceful. Hadn't she promised herself she wouldn't play along with these games?
/The best plan can fall to pieces in practice./ Promises were often the same.
---
The party reached Aedvans Village with the rise of the moon, and the sight of it drew a sigh of relief from Claira. There had been talk about another night in the woods, and though she would never admit it, she shared Jelanda's feelings on the matter. Alone, Claira would push herself hard to reach the next inn before she rested, and would do the same now if not for the princess's inexperience - Claira was a city-dweller at heart, and longed for the comforts of civilization.
In that way Jelanda was certainly a problem. It was inconvenient to have to take the desires and limitations of others into account when she made her plans. Ashlin was the perfect partner; she didn't need anything.
*****enter transition here
"It's quieter than I expected," Lawfer commented from behind them. "The miners kept it loud and busy last I was here."
"You've been here before?" Jelanda asked.
"Aye, my lady. There are always disturbances along the east road. This place is close to the border with Crell Monferaigne. They drive their criminals out, and we get the trouble they bring."
Jelanda bowed her head and seemed to think on that as they began their descent toward the town. The afternoon had faded to dusk, silencing the woods around them and sending lengthening shadows over the glinting rooftiles of Aedvans. The princess's dark cloak blended with the shadows, only the tip of her pale nose and a hint of golden curls giving hint that she was not born of the darkness.
The knights were not so lucky. They clanked like a tin factory, even at a walk, and their armor flashed red when the dying light hit the plates just right. Claira would have preferred to hire a group of less conspicuous mercenaries, trained to fight without such cumbersome trappings, but the king insisted on the escort - Lombert certainly had - and she did not have the authority to defy either of them. They had done away with their pristine surcoats and decorated armor, but a knight was a knight. It wouldn't take much work to guess they were escorting someone important.
The princess spoke up again, twisting in her saddle to face Lawfer directly. "Are bandits really a problem here?" The tone of her question was peculiarly earnest. "Or is it soldiers? Raiders?"
The knight's gaze slid to Claira. "Raiders?"
"/Yes/." Jelanda frowned. "I've heard my father's advisors talking about it."
He shook his head. "There are attacks, yes, but they do not raid. General consensus is they're testing the strength or our defenses, but it doesn't seem that Crell Monferaigne will attack. There are other dangers in this region that plague both sides of the border this time of year."
"Like?"
Lawfer's face darkened. Claira caught his gaze, and when he hesitated, answered for him. "There are undead roaming the mountains beyond Aedvans. Sometimes they venture down to feed." It was a point of contention between them, the only point upon which the knight had opposed her. He argued, rightly, that the path she wanted to take would present an unnecessary danger to the princess. But she preferred an enemy she could blast to the sort she'd have to negotiate with. "They infest this region come winter. It's no coincidence border hostilities cease with the first snowfall."
There was also the matter of that artifact Ashlin mentioned in Artolia. Another unnecessary danger, but a little experience would do the princess good. Flenceburg wouldn't teach Jelanda how to apply the skills she wanted to learn.
"We're walking into /that/?" There was fear in the girl's voice, though she tried to mask it. "I thought you were supposed to /protect/ me, not drop me into a nest of... of vampires!"
Claira smiled slightly and pet her shoulder. "Vampires don't nest, girl." She turned back to the road and let the princess try to splutter a reply. "Quiet, now. We're getting close."
Their ride into town was uneventful. The dusk darkened to night, and torches had been lit at every street corner. High above the dark storefronts traces of illumination welled through the shutters closed tight against the chill, and the scent of woodsmoke was almost overpowering after the crisp, pine-tinted air of the forest.
Ashlin led the party confidently toward the town center, seemingly unfazed by the dimness and quiet. Her pale hair gleamed almost silver in the moonlight, a fitting lead for their escort of clanking knights, none of whom appeared nearly as comfortable with their surroundings. Aedvans had a reputation for being rowdy this time of year, when miners came down to avoid the harsher winter of the mountains. Called "the sleepless crossroads," it was a haven for both traveler and soldier, the last reasonably wealthy town on the way to the border. Anything closer would be too tempting a target.
It was still early yet. It could be they had not started migrating. Claira would be the first to admit she paid no attention to their kind unless circumstances demanded it.
"Much livelier," she heard Lawfer mutter, before he raised his voice. "Miss Claira, are you sure it's wise to proceed? We might be better off in the woods until sunrise."
"I'd agree, if winter wasn't already upon us." She glanced at the princess, who had been quiet since their last exchange, then moved her gaze to Ashlin. A slight shake of the other woman's head was all she needed. "We're almost to the center of town. If there is trouble, we'll do as you say. For now I prefer this to the dangers the night may hold."
"It could just be a precaution," Ashlin said. "It's not unheard of for certain creatures to seek out towns and other large gatherings."
"As you say." Though he sounded dissatisfied, Lawfer fell silent.
-
. . .
Unfinished, naturally. :P It was supposed to end with Claira and company walking into the hornet's nest surrounding Raeger, who was accused of causing the death outlined in Judas post #2 and Raeger post #1. Thus, most of the final group would have gotten together, lacking only Judas himself.