No One Touches the Faerie
Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 10:08 am
Feb 20th, 2016:
Convinced that he had been sleeping for the entirety of her duel, as Cael and Vaeluthil left the Annex in favor of the market on their way back to Seaside, she regaled him with the tale of how she defeated the greatest of meanieheads, Salvador Delahada. It was a harrowing story of valiant heroes and dastardly villains that began with the villain jumping to a quick advantage over our young heroine. Before the villain could finish her though, the little hero's magnificent ironwood sword (made especially for her by the Bravest of Adventurers) struck true and she fought back until she won. Even on the cusp of victory when the bad guy threatened those she cared about she held it together, finishing him off with a violent whack that would have made even the Queen of Hearts proud for how hard she tried to take off his head. Alas, she hadn't, and Salvador Delahada would survive to tell the tale of the day he was bested by the Greatest Baroness of Seaside, the Supreme Adventurer Vaeluthil Rosemary Marigold Whitevale. Of course, it hadn't exactly happened that way, but the way she told it made it sound totally believable in her head. By the time she was done, they had made it to the heart of the marketplace and she slithered off of his shoulder in favor of dashing ahead.
"Oh, oh, oh, do we want ice cream or do we want the not-brownies or do we want the cake funnels or do we want taffy?" Cael was obviously expected to help her figure that out. It was an important question after all.
With a patience that would have with worth sainthood in most respectable (and a few irreputable) religions, Cael listened to the exuberance of her words in companionable silence, save for the occasional impressed grunt or low whistle. It was his small, subtle way of doting upon the little faerie, though he had seen the fight in its entirety and didn't need to have it explained. And yet, there was still something endearing in her telling of it, with all of its romanticized innocence. A small smile pursed his lips, little distracts both within his head and without causing his attention to wonder at the finale and causing him to nearly drop her when she sought her freedom to bound ahead. "Mayhap cold ice cream an' warm brownies, little dove. Very different but very good together."
For just a moment, maybe a half dozen, the druid lost sight of her when he occupied himself with catching the arm of one of the city's notable message runners. Coins were dredged up from the bottom of a leather pouch and dropped into the young man's hand as he repeated the brief message back to Cael meant for the head steward of the manor in Seaside.
Cael was patient, Cael was kind, Cael was everything she wanted in a friend and more. So it was his input that she took most to heart and as he offered his suggestion, she let out a squeak of delight and bobbed an excited nod of her red capped head. "Ice cream and warm brownies. But nae real brownies, o' course. Yes, this is what we'll do."
She knew just the place. Of course, she knew all of the places in the city to get the best sweets, but this one in particular had quite delectable baked goods and a decent variety of soft serve ice cream. She took for granted how far he was behind her. After all, he always caught up, moving at his slow Cael pace like the big sleepy bones that he was. So she dashed left and then right, took another right and veered south. Not too much further would take her to Little Elfhame but she didn't dare go that far. Instead she came up short, turning one last time to make the final leg of her... what was that? Her chin lifted and she sniffed at the air. Honey. Sweet, fresh, gooey honey. She drifted off course and down a side street, her button nose turned up to guide her.
"Oi, dove, ye lookin' fer dis?" A voice called to her from the darkness and her aimless wandering screeched to a stop. Just outside of the halo of light offered by the streetlamps, a heavily cloaked figure dangled something just out of view. She sniffed again. Bingo. She nodded. Of course this had shady written all over it, but he smelled so sweet and he had called her "dove" so just how bad could he be? "Well c'mon then, come an' get it would ya? We got more righ' back this way."
"I... should let Cael know where I'm going..." She said softly. Despite that, her feet still carried her gracefully toward the shade. Curiosity, meet Vael the cat.
"We already tol' 'im. S'no worries, dove." There it was again. Her shoulders dropped a little and she gave the dark veiled being a cheery nod.
"Very well. Let us go, yes?" As soon as she stepped from the light to the dark, the black clad man was ushering her down a different side street, taking her through alleys and down seldom traveled access walkways, all the while talking about just what he had in store for her. He was charming save for the less than refined way in which he spoke, and the gentle hand to the small of her back didn't set off too many alarms in her head. Not with the veritable mountain of goodies awaiting her at least. They traveled through a narrow doorway hinged by an old, creaky metal door and into what seemed to be an empty building. It was a little dusty, likely an old shop long since out of use, but otherwise it didn't seem that ominous or foreboding. Except her escort was slowing and her Vael-senses were tingling. Something wasn't quite right. As they came to a stop and she heard the quiet tink of metal on metal, she realized her folly.
She stood within a wide circle that had just been closed with a drag of iron on concrete, sealing the little fae in and doing a terrific job of keeping her away from the circle's edges.Spinning a circle of her own, her mismatched eyes found the man in black and fixed him with a wide eyed stare.
"Ye best let me go..." She said quietly but firmly, one hand resting on the hilt of her ironwood sword. It wouldn't do her much good at this distance but it was the closest thing she had to protection with Cael so far away.
"Yea'? Or what. Ye gonna cut me witcher toothpick there?" The man laughed. The sound was joined by an echo of laughter that seemed to split and multiply, filling her ears with the derisively taunting sound. Just barely ticking her eyes from side to side, she realized that it wasn't just the two of them. Just in her view, there were at least three outside of the circle and though she couldn't extend her Will beyond the iron edge of the circle, she would almost count on there being more behind her.
"Or ye won't like what's going to happen." Her voice trembled as did the sword when she drew it, pointing it at the man who had brought her there. Their laughter bloomed anew and she swallowed hard. For all of the toughness implied by her persona, she was most certainly not ready for a fight like this. And so? She screamed. Long and loud in a pitch befitting the shattering of glass. "CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAELLLLL LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"
"Oi! Shut 'er up! Hurry, shut 'er up!" One of the voices called. She felt the burn of cold forged iron before it touched her, the metal manacle looped around her non-dominant wrist and clicked shut. Vael squealed and swung blindly at her captor. The ironwood sword's pommel cracked the man in the side of the head and he stumbled aside. It also loosened her hold on the blade and it was easily knocked out of her grasp by the next set of hands that sought to still her squirming. The connected manacle to the first was latched around her other wrist, binding them together.
"CAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLL!" She screamed again through a choked sob just in time for a hand to clamp down on her mouth. He was wearing rings, at least two of which had some amount of iron in them. Her entire body fought against the hold and the hissing burn working its way into her soft flesh. For all of her twisting and flailing, it took three sets of rough hands to hold her still long enough for them to close a matching set of cuffs around her ankles. No matter the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the iron was like poison, fast acting in its ability to slow her down until she was a sluggish mess. Still she fought with everything she had.
"Drain 'er dry an' ditch 'er b'fore they know she's gone. This'ne'll sell more'an well 'nough ta make up fer the hassle." It was the last thing she heard before everything began to fade in front of her very eyes.
--cont--
Convinced that he had been sleeping for the entirety of her duel, as Cael and Vaeluthil left the Annex in favor of the market on their way back to Seaside, she regaled him with the tale of how she defeated the greatest of meanieheads, Salvador Delahada. It was a harrowing story of valiant heroes and dastardly villains that began with the villain jumping to a quick advantage over our young heroine. Before the villain could finish her though, the little hero's magnificent ironwood sword (made especially for her by the Bravest of Adventurers) struck true and she fought back until she won. Even on the cusp of victory when the bad guy threatened those she cared about she held it together, finishing him off with a violent whack that would have made even the Queen of Hearts proud for how hard she tried to take off his head. Alas, she hadn't, and Salvador Delahada would survive to tell the tale of the day he was bested by the Greatest Baroness of Seaside, the Supreme Adventurer Vaeluthil Rosemary Marigold Whitevale. Of course, it hadn't exactly happened that way, but the way she told it made it sound totally believable in her head. By the time she was done, they had made it to the heart of the marketplace and she slithered off of his shoulder in favor of dashing ahead.
"Oh, oh, oh, do we want ice cream or do we want the not-brownies or do we want the cake funnels or do we want taffy?" Cael was obviously expected to help her figure that out. It was an important question after all.
With a patience that would have with worth sainthood in most respectable (and a few irreputable) religions, Cael listened to the exuberance of her words in companionable silence, save for the occasional impressed grunt or low whistle. It was his small, subtle way of doting upon the little faerie, though he had seen the fight in its entirety and didn't need to have it explained. And yet, there was still something endearing in her telling of it, with all of its romanticized innocence. A small smile pursed his lips, little distracts both within his head and without causing his attention to wonder at the finale and causing him to nearly drop her when she sought her freedom to bound ahead. "Mayhap cold ice cream an' warm brownies, little dove. Very different but very good together."
For just a moment, maybe a half dozen, the druid lost sight of her when he occupied himself with catching the arm of one of the city's notable message runners. Coins were dredged up from the bottom of a leather pouch and dropped into the young man's hand as he repeated the brief message back to Cael meant for the head steward of the manor in Seaside.
Cael was patient, Cael was kind, Cael was everything she wanted in a friend and more. So it was his input that she took most to heart and as he offered his suggestion, she let out a squeak of delight and bobbed an excited nod of her red capped head. "Ice cream and warm brownies. But nae real brownies, o' course. Yes, this is what we'll do."
She knew just the place. Of course, she knew all of the places in the city to get the best sweets, but this one in particular had quite delectable baked goods and a decent variety of soft serve ice cream. She took for granted how far he was behind her. After all, he always caught up, moving at his slow Cael pace like the big sleepy bones that he was. So she dashed left and then right, took another right and veered south. Not too much further would take her to Little Elfhame but she didn't dare go that far. Instead she came up short, turning one last time to make the final leg of her... what was that? Her chin lifted and she sniffed at the air. Honey. Sweet, fresh, gooey honey. She drifted off course and down a side street, her button nose turned up to guide her.
"Oi, dove, ye lookin' fer dis?" A voice called to her from the darkness and her aimless wandering screeched to a stop. Just outside of the halo of light offered by the streetlamps, a heavily cloaked figure dangled something just out of view. She sniffed again. Bingo. She nodded. Of course this had shady written all over it, but he smelled so sweet and he had called her "dove" so just how bad could he be? "Well c'mon then, come an' get it would ya? We got more righ' back this way."
"I... should let Cael know where I'm going..." She said softly. Despite that, her feet still carried her gracefully toward the shade. Curiosity, meet Vael the cat.
"We already tol' 'im. S'no worries, dove." There it was again. Her shoulders dropped a little and she gave the dark veiled being a cheery nod.
"Very well. Let us go, yes?" As soon as she stepped from the light to the dark, the black clad man was ushering her down a different side street, taking her through alleys and down seldom traveled access walkways, all the while talking about just what he had in store for her. He was charming save for the less than refined way in which he spoke, and the gentle hand to the small of her back didn't set off too many alarms in her head. Not with the veritable mountain of goodies awaiting her at least. They traveled through a narrow doorway hinged by an old, creaky metal door and into what seemed to be an empty building. It was a little dusty, likely an old shop long since out of use, but otherwise it didn't seem that ominous or foreboding. Except her escort was slowing and her Vael-senses were tingling. Something wasn't quite right. As they came to a stop and she heard the quiet tink of metal on metal, she realized her folly.
She stood within a wide circle that had just been closed with a drag of iron on concrete, sealing the little fae in and doing a terrific job of keeping her away from the circle's edges.Spinning a circle of her own, her mismatched eyes found the man in black and fixed him with a wide eyed stare.
"Ye best let me go..." She said quietly but firmly, one hand resting on the hilt of her ironwood sword. It wouldn't do her much good at this distance but it was the closest thing she had to protection with Cael so far away.
"Yea'? Or what. Ye gonna cut me witcher toothpick there?" The man laughed. The sound was joined by an echo of laughter that seemed to split and multiply, filling her ears with the derisively taunting sound. Just barely ticking her eyes from side to side, she realized that it wasn't just the two of them. Just in her view, there were at least three outside of the circle and though she couldn't extend her Will beyond the iron edge of the circle, she would almost count on there being more behind her.
"Or ye won't like what's going to happen." Her voice trembled as did the sword when she drew it, pointing it at the man who had brought her there. Their laughter bloomed anew and she swallowed hard. For all of the toughness implied by her persona, she was most certainly not ready for a fight like this. And so? She screamed. Long and loud in a pitch befitting the shattering of glass. "CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAELLLLL LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"
"Oi! Shut 'er up! Hurry, shut 'er up!" One of the voices called. She felt the burn of cold forged iron before it touched her, the metal manacle looped around her non-dominant wrist and clicked shut. Vael squealed and swung blindly at her captor. The ironwood sword's pommel cracked the man in the side of the head and he stumbled aside. It also loosened her hold on the blade and it was easily knocked out of her grasp by the next set of hands that sought to still her squirming. The connected manacle to the first was latched around her other wrist, binding them together.
"CAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLL!" She screamed again through a choked sob just in time for a hand to clamp down on her mouth. He was wearing rings, at least two of which had some amount of iron in them. Her entire body fought against the hold and the hissing burn working its way into her soft flesh. For all of her twisting and flailing, it took three sets of rough hands to hold her still long enough for them to close a matching set of cuffs around her ankles. No matter the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the iron was like poison, fast acting in its ability to slow her down until she was a sluggish mess. Still she fought with everything she had.
"Drain 'er dry an' ditch 'er b'fore they know she's gone. This'ne'll sell more'an well 'nough ta make up fer the hassle." It was the last thing she heard before everything began to fade in front of her very eyes.
--cont--