View Full Version : A Fine Day to Get Stuck
"Life looks different when you're trapped," that was the lesson Lucien was in the middle of learning. The tight string that held the thick trap to its tree branch creaked slowly as the net rocked back and forth, propelled only by the boy's weight. The slow movement pissed him off a little, it only added to the picture of the placid scene. The sound of running water was only a few yards to the right of his prison, the soft ruffle of leaves and branches was everywhere else. It was a deceiving ploy, a beautiful little copse with a spring near by. Nothing warned of the hidden danger that flung Lucien into the air and held him tightly.
With firmly crossed arms, the lad began to drift into a world of dreams deviod of the dull drum around him. In a way, he knew something like that was bound to happen. A boy from Earth can only do so much complaining before Althanas smacks him in the face and tells him to shut up. The magical realm had a harsh learning curve that preyed on a weak will and a lazy mind. Lucien had no survival skills, at least not any that didn't involve him blowing off the first thing to show mercy. The boy let out a deep sigh; at least the air was clean. That was probably one of the first things he noticed when he stepped foot on Althanas; well that and the giant monster ready to rend his flesh and bone.
"At least it's warm," he mused as the creaks grew louder as he shifted his weight. He'd lost his shoes and sweatshirt nearly a week ago; during his journey into the spirit world his mind held. His guide all but abandoned him as they exited, leaving Lucien once again to fend for himself. Bare feet dangling from the gaps in the netting, he'd long ago given up trying to escape. In the heat it only tired him out faster. Though frustrated and a tad scared, his half-closed eyes held another emotion; humiliation. "God I hope no one sees me like this. I'll try to get out again in a little bit." For now, there was only the humble sleep only warmth could bring.
'Tis ay been a while since I've seen a soul, reflected Karuka as she walked along, using her pendulum to give her a direction to go.
I mean, ay, 'twill be good t' get back by th' shortest wee route, but 'twould be a grand bit nicer t' actually...ha' someone t' talk t'.
She sighed, pausing for a moment. Karuka Tida was a slender slip of a girl, only sixteen. She'd come to Althanas not long ago from Earth...a child born of the union between Atid, the High Priest of Shiva, and Faylinn, Irish Druidess. She bore traits from both cultures...her father's honey-dark skin, and her mother's red hair and light eyes. Only...her mother had had much lighter hair...a firey red, while Karuka's was a very deep crimson...and Faylinn's eyes had been green, while Karuka's eyes were a crystalline blue, with a very pale blue rim and a golden halo. She wore a short grey tunic and a pair of pants that came only to the middle of her shins. Both had frayed edges, and the distance between where the pants began and the tunic stopped allowed a healthy section of midriff to show, along with a glinting belly-button ring, and her sleeveless tunic let the tattoos on her wrists show, sun on the right and moon on the left.
The girl started up again, passing through the trees It was such a beautiful forest, and things weren't as prone to jump out at her as they had been...but hello, what was this?
There was a boy hanging from a tree. Thank the gods, he was far from dead, being caught in a net. She walked up and under him...he looked okay...unharmed...but surely he'd want down? He looked at least mostly asleep, so she circled around a few times before scaling the tree and sitting on the branch above him, to one side so they could talk normally.
"Hallo. I'm Karuka, but I'll tell y' tha' again when y' wake up a wee bit. Seems tha' yer a wee bit stuck. Wouldja like me t' get y' down?" The voice was sweet, musical and lilting...and some few would even call it annoying...but only if they didn't call it endearing first.
The boy had heard her coming a mile away, the girl's footsteps were heavier than the roaming squirrels that seemed to be in heat. He kept his eyes closed and his breathes heavy as a nervous sweat broke out on his body, colder than that produced by humidity alone. Botches of the moist liquid dotted his pink shirt, darkening it to a more subtle color. Lucien could only hope to keep his bladder in check as he heard the girl circle around below him. For all he knew, she could be the very thing that built the damned pendulum that kept him hostage ten feet from the ground.
As Kuruka climbed the branches to reach him, several smaller branches cracked and broke beneath her. The boy wished he could go back to the simple times when all he had to worry about was the occasional bird flying into him. The closer she got, the more tense his lithe body became. His muscles grew stiff and his fists grew harder. Soon Lucien began concoct bizarre schemes to escape his yet seen foe.
"Whoever he is," thought the punk from tightly clenched eyes, "he'll have to deal with a good burst of wind from me." Despite the faux confidence, Lucien knew he'd probably stray from using the only ability he had to his name. The power of wind that lived inside him was often ignored, the boy always felt so strange summoning a gift he hadn't been born with.
Karuka's first words to him were sweet but sputtered in some strange accent Lucien thought could only exist in fiction. As he opened his eyes to meet the sight of the dark skinned girl, his fear diminished a little; yet new a dread came over him. "Christ. She's drunk." Finding a voice deep within him, the boy tried his best to keep his boyish voice from cracking.
"Uh..." He stopped for a moment, trapped in the subtle beauty of her eyes. He always wanted eyes like those but quickly moved jealousy aside to finish. "Yeah. Could you," the boy cleared his throat, trying to summon some more courage, "help out?" He spoke honestly and sincerely, a nervous place he didn't like going.
"All right. Hold still, a wee bit."
Karuka started undoing the knot that held the trap up.
"Now, I know 'tis a wee bit hard t' un'erstan' me a' firs'...so I've been told from ev'ry one tha' I've met so far here on Althanas. But I am nae a native speaker t' English. I'm from Irelan', an' have nae any clue how t' get back. Ah, there we go. Under all tha' tanglin', 'tis a rather easy knot."
To finish undoing the knot, the redhead laid prone on the branch, wrapping her legs around it and taking a strong grip on the rope with her left hand; using the right to undo the knot. As she finished undoing it, the boy's weight pulled the trap sharply down, leaving a bit of rope burn on Karuka's hand before she grabbed onto it with the right hand to make the remaining three feet of the drop gentle.
"Oww...well, 'tis right nice t' see tha' rope hasnae much changed." Karuka judged the distance down and dropped, landing lightly on her feet before pulling out her bronze belly-dancing sword. It had a sharp edge, so a minute or so sawing at the top of the trap, and the net fell open, freeing the boy. Anything else, and the sword would be fairly useless, but for slicing things like rope, it would do just fine, as long as she didn't overdo it.
"So, now tha' y've yer feet back on th' groun', d'y' mind tellin' me yer name?"
As Karuka fiddled with the ropes above him, Lucien stared intently at her mouth, trying to piece together what words weren't completely butchered by her accent. "Wait, you're from Irela-" Before he could finish his sentence, the boy's knitted prison raced towards the ground. His heart nearly stopped and his cold sweat became more like a raging river. A sharp scream leapt out from the lad's throat as he clung with white knuckles to the flimsy cage around him. And just as soon as it had started, it stopped. The whirlwind of confusion and fear was silent once more.
Through heavy pants and clenched teeth, he saw Karuka cut through his bonds. His heart seemed to skip again when he saw the sword she held, but the boy quickly remembered she was there to help. As the next was cut, he fell onto his back and stretched his limbs, feeling a new life in each of them. He owed the girl a lot, but all she asked for then was a name.
"I'm Lucien," mumbled the boy as he tried his best to speak without screaming. There were so many questions left unanswered by her presence. Another girl from Earth meant another entrance into Althanas; and with another entrance there could be another exit. The possibilities lingered in his mind, but Lucien caught a whiff of what he smelt like and knew questions could wait. He looked a pathetic sight, laid back against the warm Earth in a sweaty pile of fear and introversion.
The twerp remembered the sound of running water nearby. Questions were best left until after there was time to wash up. "I'm gunna' go wash up, but there's still stuff I want to say to you..." He hated to talk indirectly, but nature bid him to do so. "Will you follow me?" He sat up, eyebrows arched and ready for an answer.
Pomegranate red lips curled into a smile as he gave a name.
"'Tis ay good t' meetcha, Lucien...an' sure, I'll follow y'. I was hopin' fer a wee bit o' company, anyway."
She slid the belly-dancing sword back into its sheath. She wouldn't even have it if not for her father's seal in the hilt, but the sharp edge did come in useful now and again.
"Y' look like y' need t' wash up...I've been stuck in a tree b'fore...ne'er like tha', granted, but 'tisnae a pleasant experience. An' y'...y' soun' a wee bit different than ev'ryone else here. D'y' come from a country I havenae been t' yet?"
Fortunately, the girl's mouth moved as her feet did, so she followed him along to the river, where she let him wash off while dangling her feet in its cool currents.
"'Tiss beautiful country here, 'tis. Nae quite like home, but home is ay relative. Altho'...I canna say how anyone can make their home i' France, wi' all tha' weird speak."
She laughed, quiet, musical notes. "But then again, I talk too much, an' nae ev'ry one wants t' hear."
To keep herself distracted, she withdrew a few clay tablets from a pouch and set them on the ground.
As the sun's reflection on the crystal water created a golden road that seemed to beckon Lucien forward, the boy had only one thing on his mind; "Does she ever shut up?" The waters were refreshing and crisp as he cupped his hands and splashed it on his face. Mountains of dirt seemed to wash away in that single instant where his skin tingled from the pool's touch.
As the lad knelt down, he got a better survey of the land. A fast moving stream filled with rippled emptied into the pond by way of a small waterfall. The waters were shallow at the shore, but Lucien could tell by the way the angle descended that the middle was much deeper. It was clear enough to see into, golden orbs and shimmering stones lay just a few inches beneath the water's surface.
But despite the pristine sky above, or the magnificent view in front of him, the boy couldn't get his mind off of the questions from earlier. The net seemed a distant memory in the bright landscape clouded by curiosity.
"Karuka," he whispered, unsure if he'd pronounced her name right. "You said you come from Ireland, right?" There was a pause where only the trickle from the dwarf waterfall could be heard. "Do you mean from Earth? Like, the country." As the boy sat on the shore, he shifted his feet uncomfortably in the water. Some how the knowledge of Ireland escaped him, despite growing up in an Irish-American family. "Like, that country that's divided in two."
"Divided a'twain? Well...aye, but nae long since. 'Twere only a few years ago tha' th' Catholics came, an' there's some tha' think 'twere wonderful tha' tha' Patrick fella took th' snakes away...bu' there were nae verra many lef', anyway. An who will keep th' rats an' foxes i' control, I'd like t' know? Sets all nature out o' balance. An' this one god, he's go' some nerve, pullin' some wee few miracles from those wi' a wee bit o' trainin' different from th' Druidae."
Karuka looked down at her runes...they didn't really say anything...'roses burn when the river stops moving,' and tucked them back into their pouch.
"An' I s'pose th' word fer th' planet may be Earth in another language. I dinna speak English perfectly. All I know is tha' th' portal I stepped through wasnae open fer th' return trip. Why d'y' ask? Were y' ta'en, as well, from where y' were s'posed t' be an' dropped here, wi'ou' a clue as t' what was goin' on, where y' were, an' who would try t' help y' an' who would try t' hurt y'? Or d'y' jus' ha' a wee interest in th' visitors from beyond?"
From what he could understand, it all sounded like Ireland. The snakes, the St. Patrick, the fact she sounded pretty shitfaced; it all added up in Lucien's strange mind. There was so much about Earth he wanted to know, so much he wanted to be informed about since he left. From Hollywood hook-ups to the next American invasion of some place hard to pronounce, any tidbit would make his heart flutter with wonder and a strange filler to bridge the gap left by home sickness.
As he stood up, he tried his best to look good. The boy still smelled a little, but he was weary of completely disrobing in front of Karuka; despite not being catholic, shame still played an important role in his life.
But soon, Lucien felt another set of eyes on him. They were not of the pale shade the girl had to offer, but something different and unseen. Hidden behind the wide oaks ans willows around them, something crept. Twigs snapped every which way, causing the lad's head to dart back and forth. For a moment, he was on edge again until it all quieted down. It took a minute for his muscled to release.
"I can kind'a tell you don't know English well." Lucien tried to hide a smirk at ho little English she did know. "Ah, there's some more I want to ask you, but can you turn around or something?" The boy motioned his head towards the water, trying his best to remain non-verbal about stripping down in dipping fully into the pool. His own smell had gotten to him almost as badly as the strange noises did.
Karuka had bounded up at the sound of the snapping twigs, turning and standing ankle-deep in the water. Only two sorts of things made that sort of noise -- a very inept...and BIG...predator, or a VERY cocky predator. And they didn't get cocky unless they were old and good.
Unless this was something even more sinister than a hungry puma or wolf. The very thought of that made a chill run down the red-head's spine.
WHY had she not dragged one of the guys along on her little misguided wondering off?! It had caused a lot of trouble so far already and not much good. Yes, there were new people to meet, but the chances of seeing them again? And what if someone heard she was from earth and really didn't like wee aliens? What then?
The dark-skinned red-head stepped out of the water and onto the banks. "Ay, I'll turn aroun'...dinna let yer guard down...I dinna like th' soun's comin' from so near."
Her left hand slipped a rune out...it was marked with what very closely resembled a "less than" sign. This was Ken (perhaps Lucien had heard about it as Kano in whatever newfangled literature was coming to light in his nation and time period). This was a chance to create flame, and Karuka knew how to use it against wee beasties. Bigger beasties...well, hopefully it would be furred and dry.
"I'll nae be far...I want t' know wha' is in there. Y' can come fin' me when yer done, or call fer me. I'll be wi' in earshot."
She made her way into the forest, no longer stepping blithely unaware of what was happening there. She'd been traveling for far too long and had heard far too many sounds like that to just let the one-time sound slide beyond her perception.
She glanced up to the sky, even though the thick foliage from the trees made it difficult to accurately see the splendid blue far above her. What she did see of it, though, satisfied her. There was a decently thick spread of big fluffy "sheep" clouds in the sky. It would be enough to get a decent bolt out of Sigel, if needed...and a fair storm out of Hagall. She had very few spells that would be of use in combat...and would have to make good on every one of them if she intended to beat something malevolent.
C'mon ou', y' wee beastie. I'll ha' a' y' an' we'll see if an Althanas beastie or an Irish lassie ha' th' more fightin' pow'r. I'll lay odds tha' y' canna lay a wee claw on me.
Slowly on she crept, almost glad now for the muted colors of her roughly-used clothing.
I really wish I ha' a boar spear. I really do.
Lucien couldn't understand what upset Karuka so much, and he really didn't care either. All that he could focus on were the cool waters caressing every inch of his body. Normally, being naked outside would've only been something done on a lost bet; but despite how little Althanas had changed him mentally, physically it had taken its toll. He was much thinner and much scrawnier, although a lean muscle tone had begun to forum. Days of hunger and travel had left their mark not only on his physique, but his scent as well. He needed that bath even more then he needed food or a warm bed.
But a thought occurred to him, a thought that hadn't entered his head since he'd been plucked from Earth. The boy had never been much of a swimmer, preferring to stay on shore as often as possible. It wasn't a lack of skill that kept him, but a fear of the unknown in any watery depths. Since he'd come to Althanas, the lad had seen many strange things; elves casting bright and flashy spells while wearing the finest silks, warriors decapitating whatever they could find, women allowed to vote. Some grinning creature could be swimming just a twain away.
Lucien eyed the pool wearily as he scurried out, almost tripping onto the shore. He was panting again, a favored pastime of his. As the boy threw on his clothes as fast as he could, an eerie feeling came over him. "I wonder where Karuka is?"
He had no time to get the answer, the hilt of a sword quickly knocked him out and onto the dusty pool's bank.
Karuka prowled these alien forests for a while, finding the trap again, undisturbed.
H'mm... A few quick slices, and she had a nice length of rope. I ne'er roped a bull when I went t' Spain. Still...y' dinna mess wi' th' person holdin' th' noose!
Deft hands made a slipknot and widened the noose...if it hit its mark, it'd shrink on its own.
'Tis a right quiet wee forest. I dinna like tha'...there were birds b'fore. An' where's th' lad? 'Tis been a right long time. E'en when my hair were righ' long, I dinna take so much time t' clean myself off.
Karuka tucked the noose into her satchel and searched around a bit more, picking up a very big, very dry fallen branch and breaking the smaller branches from it. You didn't need weapons training to beat people with sticks.
That done, she headed back to the stream. When she didn't see Lucien, she crept cautiously into the open and looked at the ground. An impression where he'd fallen...and some big footsteps.
I TOL' 'im t' nae let his guard down, an' did he listen a' me? Naaaae. Y' canna listen a' th' wee Irish lass because she's jus' a wee lass, an' what does she know? I really wish I ha' a boar huntin' spear so I coul' run 'im through mysel'!
Internal rant done, Karuka sat down on the grass and laid out her runes.
Why was he taken? Men who want money attacked to protect it.
Was Lucien a thief? No.
Do these men have aught to fear from him? No.
Is the lad alive? Yes.
Karuka sighed. "Why am I always gettin' involved?" With that bit of railing against herself, she slid her pendulum from her neck and set out to find the straw-haired boy, following the swing of the thing straight to wherever it was they'd taken him.
Laying on his back and facing the sky, the boy had his hands tightly bound underneath him. His legs were spread eagle, a result of the poorly shaped rock he used as a chair before sliding off. Had circumstances been different, Lucien would've thought it a little exciting.
But around him sat far grimmer faces with chins forested in fur and marred with scratches long since healed. They wore heavy clothing made from wool and leather, all in rather sickly shades of brown and tan. As they dug into the plentiful food they brought with them, the boy could only salivate at the sounds of their crude eating. They all but ignored Lucien, who still had little idea was he was kept captive; but the occasional glance his way showed only ill intent. Though the air was warm, the men still felt it fit to keep a fire burning for their food. It also provided entertainment when small cinders fluttered over to the boy's foot, causing him to squirm.
Finally, one of the men stood up and wabbled drunkenly over to reclined Lucien. Even from a distance, the booze on the man's breath was thick and muggy, clinging to his beard. "You were sent to find us, weren't you?" He stuttered, droplets of spit flying from his mouth. The boy could only stare up wide-eyed and confused. "Don't look at me like that." The man stumbled backwards, groping behind him to find a branch whose tip graced the fire's edge. "We have ways of making you speak truthfully." The glowing ember tip was pointed right at Lucien's cheek. He shook violently, somehow able to keep his screams down to a low moan.
"We have ways of making you speak truthfully."
The voice wasn't loud, but it was clear, and Karuka, who had been travelling through the trees, now dropped low and crept to where she could see the little enclave without being seen herself.
Aon...dhÃ*...trì...celthir...còlg...sla...seachd ...ochd...naol...delch. Ten o' 'em. This is right lovely. How does a wee lass fight so large a group o' big men in thick clothes when th' only ally she might ha' looks more like he'd rather soil his breeches than put up a good fight?
Still, there had to be SOMETHING she could do. Starting with removing the immediate danger for the straw-haired scrawny boy.
Karuka slipped Ken back into her pouch with the other runes, and slid out Is. She took a little of the skin on her right thumb between her teeth, biting it hard enough to bleed, then rubbed it on the tablet before holding the rune between her palms and mouthing the words to the prayer in her native Gaelic.
Caillech, God of Summer's hottest day and winter's coldest night, spring-bringer, fall bearer, show these heathens the power of your unstoppable force, bring forth the power of cold and ice. Through my blood and through Is, bring to the blazing branch the touch of winter.
The sun-and-sky eyes opened and glared upon the red-hot tip of the bandit's torture-brand. Ice crystals began forming, little by little, upon the branch. It melted as quickly as it formed, but it took the heat with it, leaving the brand, at the end, a mere mildly-hot and dripping stick.
An...now wha' d' I do?
The winds changed quickly, Lucien could feel it on his bare flesh. And as soon as the breeze shifted, small shards of ice began to form on the burning stick above the boy. Soon only the hiss of the extinguished ember could be heard in the still air; the men around the fire all stood silently on guard. They knew something was nearby, something that caused the freeze. As the boy lay back, he could hear the men around him rising up and rummaging for their weapons. The sound of cold steel being ripped from sheath echoed off the large trees around the camp.
The lad felt a boot unapologetically nudging his side as the man above him spoke. "Don't do anywhere." With those cold words he stealthily crept off. All around him, Lucien heard the sounds of soft stepping boots creek as they spread out in a full circle. Even if whatever was out there could find him, the lad doubted it'd be able to get past the brigand's tactic.
As the dust settled the boy was left only with the chilly feeling of melted ice on his crotch, the charred stick and a deep boredom. He was too sore and tired to try and struggle some more, and he knew his scrawny muscles wouldn't weaken his restraints a bit. Despite the threat of torture, Lucien was content enough to wait for rescue; or at the very least hope that the bandits thought he was cute enough to let go.
For once, Karuka was glad she was going barefoot. It meant she could shimmy up a tree without leaving tell-tale bootmarks. Not that they'd know to look for those drunk as they were. It didn't take the lithe red-head long to get well out of the bandits' view...and she let them spread out before creeping through the branches and dropping onto the stone above Lucien.
She looked around swiftly, like some sort of woodland creature, before slipping down, drawing her sword, and slicing through Lucien's bonds.
"Keep an eye ou' while I'm freein' y'. I tol' y' t' nae let yer guard down."
When that was completed, Karuka re-sheathed her weapon, grabbed a brand from the fire and one of their bottles of alcohol. This be a vile sort...but it'll burn right pretty. Jus' remember...ne'er breathe in. Y' saw what happened t' cousin Melvyn.
"C'mon, kid. Le's get ou' o' here afore they r'tern."
Somewhere deep down inside his heart, Lucien knew they'd come back right at that moment. As soon as he stood up, the sharp whistle of wooden slicing through air greeted his ears. By dumb luck alone the boy managed to stumble backwards just in time as the spear flew right in front of him and into the fire. He let out a scream as he fell on his ass, wide eyes filled with terror at the idea of just staring death in the face.
A sharp cry rang out from the forest, echoing off the trees and into the air. One of the bandits was alerting his friends in the loudest manner possible. As Lucien scooted around the forest's dirt floor, brush and bush sounded all around the emptied camp. The men were returning at top speed, and they didn't sound too pleased. "Shit!," thought the boy, filled with an anxiety only fear could bring. Karuka seemed distant, and his own neck was the only one he was looking out for.
Suddenly, a powerful force hit him from behind. One of the bandits drunkenly ran into Lucien, tripping over the land and smashing his head into the ground with a fervor. Lucien too rolled a little, caught off guard by the powerful blow. He laid as low as he could, hearing the voices surround he and Karuka one by one.
Ten bandits. One o' me. An' I dinna think tha' tha' one coul' do a bit o' anythin' if he wanted t'.
Karuka looked around. This situation was decidedly NOT GOOD. But being who she was, she was far from ready to just throw up her hands and surrender.
The skies had grown gray and overcast...that was good. It would help if she needed to call down Hagall. But for now, she located the leader. That would be the face she burnt if she had to draw Ken....holding a flame would make the magic stronger by just enough to assure the spell did its maximum damage.
"There are two ways we can do this," said Karuka, speaking as slowly and clearly as she could. "Th' boy is wi' me, an' dinna mean any harm t' y'. I'll see t' i' tha' he's properly beaten abou' fer trespassin', on th' condition y' let the two o' us go free. If y' dinna let us free, I will break open this vile bottle o' brew o'er th' rest, an' light th' entire mess aflame. Th' ten o' y' are drunk, an' if y' decide t' attack, 'twill only hurt y' in th' long run."
She continually addressed the leader, meanwhile turning to and fro to keep the pack of mongrels away from her.
One did not need weapons training to hit people about with a burning stick. She'd found that out once in England.
Lucien looked up for only a moment, just to see the look Karuka had on her face. The little drunk girl's voice was the most commanding the boy had heard it, and it deserved some eye contact. The leader was tough, older then most of the other men. He had a fur pelt adorning his shoulders and a mean look to match it. A short sword in hand, he didn't seem like the type of man to back down to a young witch. "Cut the act. We know you're spies or bounty hunters or some combination of the two." He was blunt, the words flowed from his mouth as abruptly as possible.
Finally raising himself off the ground, the boy knew he had to do something. He wasn't a big fan of killing, or even a causal listener. Try as he might, the words in his throat just didn't seem to come out well at all. "Sir, mister. We're not spy hunters or whatever. We'-"
"Shut your mouth. You lie as horribly as you fight," grunted the leader with fierce eyes. Mumurs and snickers abounded all around the pair, simple laughs to what was obviously an assault on Lucien's manhood. The leader moved forward but his men stood back; his sword at the ready, he played with the tip of his blade. "Lies don't work when they're only used to keep cowards off the end of this."
Something deep within Lucien snapped. Perhaps it was the snickers, or the tone of the man's voice; something made the boy speak up and then some. "We're not spies you fucking moron!" Yelled Lucien, who quickly covered his mouth with cupped hands. The camp seemed almost as shocked as the boy at his words. The sound still carried off and onward, birds from yards away taking off from their trees. "Uhh."
"Maybe he's tellin' the truth," said one obviously inebriated man who took a deep swig from his flask. "I haven't head hide nor hair of a hunter for months. The Corone government could've just forgotten."
The leader smacked his head at his comrades idiotic comment. "Governments don't just forget bandits." He paused for a moment, his one good eye looking Lucien over. A solid shoulder to the boy's chest was only further proof to his innocents. "Still, this one's not exactly hunter material," he chuckled as he saw Lucien rub his sore chest. "Not sure about the other one though.
Ah-hah.
They could still get out of this situation intact. It would just take a clever half-lie.
Karuka stepped forward, keeping the stick with the burning end moving back and forth, gently, slowly, making a little bobbing path of light to give the drunken men something to follow as she thought for them. She tilted her hips to give her distance from them, making her the women so that it was a group of MEN making this choice. She tilted her head a little, bringing her then into the group a bit, and her eyes, behind the flame, had a glint she hoped would be ignored, attributed to cleverness, or blamed on the fire.
"What need would a mere fortune teller ha' t' seek ou' bandits? Th' boy's wi' me, useless bu' t' carry a wee bit o' stuff. An' if y' did d' harm t' us, we've friends in th' next village tha' await our return. If we dinna ge' back, they'll get worried, an' ha' a search party sent ou' a'ter us. Ye'll be foun' o' a certainty. All y' ha' t' do t' avoid havin' tha' happen is let us go, an' our paths ha' ne'er crossed a'tall. If y' dinna still trus' us t' nae tell th' others where y' were, there are many good places in these woods t' hide, an' this place isnae e'en sheltered o' th' wind. Y' coul' find a much cozier wee hidey hole tha' we've ne'er seen, an' none can find y' if they look, an' if we tell, we look like liars an' fools."
The boy thought he almost heard crickets chirp at the end of Karuka's speech. He stood there, confused at whatever she just said. And it soon became apparent that the bandit's surrounding them were confused as well. Many of the men scratched at their greasy hair or picked at their tarnished clothes, their faces distorted by looks of bewilderment. The Irish accent was not very well known on Althanas; not even an Earth boy could discern what she meant.
"Right," mumbled the leader, drawing out the word as best he could. "Be that as it may, we can't just let you leave here right away. We're wanted men." The leader made sense to the boy, who took the words with a look of terror.
"Please don't kill us," whispered Lucien, who really meant "him." Karuka was just a bit too strange and talkative for his tastes, and she didn't seem to know much about the English speaking world.
"Look lad, we're not going to kill you. Just waylay you." The possibilities swirled in Lucien's mind at what that could mean. Would they cripple the pair, leaving them stranded and hungry in the woods to live an invalid's life? A cold chill ran up the boy's spine as he shuffled his bare feet in the moist forest's dirt.
Karuka slammed the bottle of liquor down on the others, breaking it and another two. She brushed the wreck with the tip of her branch, lighting the whole thing ablaze.
"If y' lay a wee finger on me, I assure y' tha' I'll see t' yer capture."
A couple of the bandits grabbed Lucien and roughed him up before once again binding him.
The other eight swarmed around the wee lass with the attitude who had destroyed their booze. She drew a rune and flicked the scab that had formed on her thumb...she barely had to glance at her rune to know what it was Hagall. She smeared the rune with blood and ran off her prayer in Gaelic so quickly that even a native speaker would have trouble understanding it.
Thor, who rules over the skies, I call upon your mighty storm of punishment to smite my enemies. Hagall prevail!
Thunder rumbled in the sky as if in answer, and as she tucked the rune back into its pouch, the hooligans charged. Karuka evaded one sword and blocked another with her stick, twisting and swiping the blazing brand at a head before a pommel slammed down into the center of her back.
She staggered, and as a bandit reached out to grab her arm, little pebbles of ice started falling from the sky, followed swiftly by much, much bigger pellets. The bandits ducked the hail, and Karuka leapt over, smacking the two bandits that held Lucien in succession before taking one of her own hailstones to the back of her head...and her world went dark.
She woke later, at dusk. The bandits were gone, and Lucien was tied to the same tree she was. Her leather satchel was on the ground and had been rummaged through, but everything appeared to still be there..nothing of value. Some beat-up old winter garments and a wooden flute. Her rune pouch had been left to her...they probably figured a witch would come after someone who had taken her spell equipment...her sword was at her side...useless in combat, anyway...and her pendant!
Oh, thank the gods...apparently a little lodestone didn't look attractive enough to steal and sell...and her clothes were still on her.
Nae enou' time fer a wee gang rape b'fore th' d'parture, then. I'll still kill 'em all if e'er I see 'em again.
Karuka strained against her bonds, ignoring the straw-haired boy that had been nothing but trouble. There wasn't much slack...but if she just wiggled enough, she knew she'd be able to get her arms free. After all...she'd been unconscious...they just needed to make sure Lucien wasn't going to escape so easily. The sun had set by the time Karuka had shimmied up enough to get her arms loose, but from there the knots binding them were easy work. The ropes fell, letting them loose.
Without another word to that helpless and cowardly boy, Karuka packed up her belongings, slipped off her pendulum pendant to get her direction, and started back off on her journey. Doubtless the guys would be worried by now, and boy would she have some explaining to do.
STORY
Continuity: 5.5 – Continuity has to do with how well this fits into your overall story. The beginning might give hints of what just happened to the character, and the end might give predictions of the future. I saw some vague attempts by Lucien to talk about what he had just come out of, but no such thing for Karuka. Also, why were the two of them there? The fact that Earth was a fairly major part of your dialogue is the only reason I scored this as high as I did.
Setting: 6 – Lucien did well with this for the most part. Karuka wasn’t as descriptive or detailed as Lucien, but the rope burn was a particularly nice touch. It’s always nice to see interaction with the environment, even if it’s something as simple as what you included. It makes the setting seem that much more realistic. Also… wouldn’t biting your thumb to make it bleed hurt a little? There was no mention of the pain…
Pacing: 4 – Despite the fact that this was over 20 posts, it seemed like everything moved a bit sluggishly and didn’t accomplish much. Karuka cut Lucien out of the tree, they talked about Earth, Lucien took a bath and got captured by bandits, and they escaped. It just seemed to me like the plot stayed in one place too long for my liking. Also, the ending was a bit abrupt. I figured that they’d find some common ground, since they both probably want more than anything to get back to Earth.
CHARACTER
Dialogue: 7.5 – Good. This was entertaining, and I’m going to give you a bonus point because the accent’s going to hurt clarity a bit… see comments for that section for a little more in the way of detail. Also, the dialogue from the bandits seemed a bit generic.
Action: 5 – This was solid for the most part, but why didn’t the bandits just kill Lucien and Karuka? They don’t care about the law… I understand why they left, but the fact that they just tried to ‘waylay’ them and not kill them didn’t make much sense to me. Other than that, everything here was pretty generic. The runes were a nice touch, though. Nobody uses those that I know of.
Persona: 6 Lucien’s a gay, cowardly twerp, and Karuka’s a sassy Irish lass with a thick accent. You played the parts well, for the most part, but I don’t know any more about them then I did at the beginning. Also, the bandits seemed a bit like blocks of wood to me.
WRITING STYLE
Mechanics: 7 – Karuka was better than Lucien here in terms of spelling. She might want to watch for run-ons in the future, though. Overall, nice work.
Technique: 4 – The dialect from Karuka was a nice touch, but that’s really the only thing that I saw in this category.
Clarity: 5 – I’m sorry, Karuka. The accent is cute and fun to read, but it is hard to understand. I had to read your dialogue multiple times to understand it. Perhaps there’s a way you can make it a little more understandable?
Wild Card: 7 – I threw in another bonus point here, because the rubric was a bit harsher on you guys than I would have liked. It was a cute, fun-to-read little quest.
Final Score: 57
Lucien gets 600 exp.
Karuka Tida gets 600 exp.
They each get 100 GP that the drunken bandits apparently left behind.
Cyrus the virus
01-30-07, 08:51 PM
EXP added!
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