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Tweak says, "He's my favorite topping."

Eithne Savastian (got_a_light) wrote in caeleste,
@ 2011-04-25 18:27:00

Entry tags:

close to home, eithne savastian, eragos feareborne, sleeping tiger, vera of beit-orane

the outnumbered (eragos, sleeping tiger, vera)
It was strange leaving the Castel in a tunnel made by Elden, she wasn't even sure how such a thing was possible, but he had made it and came with her back out into Simanel. Despite the fact that Agrippa was disappointed with her, he'd still given her this task to complete. Eithne had no room to complain any longer, and wouldn't complain. She was in higher spirits than she'd been in quite awhile. She was less elated about sneaking around the city that used to serve as part of her home than Elden was. He seemed quite good at such a thing, and Eithne thought she was sneaky. The man moved carefully around corners, and while he was probably drunk, he was at least good at hiding it. they were sent to check up on plans, plans which, Eithne still wasn't quite clear on. but Elden knew them, and he wasn't as grumpy as Agrippa so he made a fine enough partner. Eithne didn't have enough time to think about the grim things that had happened in these past weeks while they were travelling carefully from place to place.

There were people stationed all around the city, laying in wait for whatever it was that the Captain had planned. Eithne was surprised to see the numbers of plain clothed citizens sitting with White Riders. Ready, it seemed, for the end. Or the beginning. Whatever came, they were ready to defend their home. Eithne might have applauded them if it didn't make her sick to think of what would happen to some or all of these people. Riders included. She'd lost enough friends in this, and didn't want to see another fall. But there was no telling how or when this would end. Even if they managed to stop The Grey Riders, and Eragos' brother, what of Gavrie and Seca? What of Gola?

There seemed to be more enemies than they could ever hope of arresting or defeating.

When Eithne and Elden were finished checking over the various hiding spots and contraptions that Agrippa and the rest of the Riders had set up during their absence they made their way through a different tunnel than they had before.

"They're never the same." Elden admitted to her.

"Cause that would be dumb." Eithne offered the wizard not a smile, but a smirk nonetheless. He took it as anyone might, with a scoff and then something that looked like a smile.

During their journey back into the Castel, Eithne had the time to reflect upon everything that had happened since yesterday. They'd spent most of the night checking on people, but before that she'd been.. She didn't know if there would ever be time to spend alone with Eragos again. She hoped there would be. She hoped Agrippa didn't send them on separate assignments for the duration of their.. lives? They could both die in this. Life had never been easy for Eithne. Abandoned at birth. Left in the care of a temple which had too many children to watch over. Maybe she could have made it easier by staying and becoming a Priestess or something else. Join the army? She'd run off into the streets and hadn't ever looked back. She didn't want to look back.

Because if she changed anything, even one small thing she wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be here with him and then what? Would she still want money so much she'd do anything for it? Would she have killed for it? A minute's difference, a different choice and she could have been... But no. Even she couldn't force her thoughts there. Or try to find pity for the people who were killing her friends along with countless innocent people. they made a choice, just as she had.

They had to be back at a specific time. Strange to tell things by time again. It'd been so long since she'd known what day it was, let alone the hour. But she and Elden were expected to the same meeting everyone else was supposed to be at. She wondered it if was new news, or if it was simply to be a strategic meeting or maybe something different. At least it wouldn't be another trial in the middle of the Yard. She began in the direction of Agrippa's office, when Elden took another turn around one of the corners and Eithne had to run to catch up with him. Apparently she hadn't been listening as clearly as she thought she had. Instead of a formal meeting in the captain's office, they were taking over one of the halls that used to be used for feasting. There were still cots and rolls pressed against the wall where people had been sleeping. she wondered how many bunks and bedrolls were littering the Rider's normal quarters. How many citizens? How many riders had been pulled back to Simanel?

Agrippa was already at the table and reading something. Elden fell into a chair and found something interesting to look at on the table. Eithne just sat down as quietly as possible, and hoped that Agrippa talked to Elden instead of her about their little mission. She busied herself by looking back at the door and waiting for the others. She hadn't had a chance to say anything to Hasna. She hadn't seen Nieve either, not that she particularly wanted to see that green Rider. She hadn't seen Geoff, or really anyone since she'd returned. She hadn't spoken to Vera since the meeting..

She wondered, suddenly, if Vera had left because of.. she hadn't thought of it before. she hadn't even considered.. Well she had tried to kill her, however accidentally. It wasn't like they were best friends but.. Still. As much as she wanted to know what Agrippa had to say to them she also wanted to have a chance to say something to everyone before whatever that was going to happen actually happened. She wouldn't have another chance, would she? None of them knew. It was weird to be so quiet, weirder to be as still as she was and not to try lighting something to smoke here with Agrippa there.

She didn't think she'd miss making everyone scowl at her. A little normalcy would have made this thing seem easier. A little less stressful. It might even make her stop thinking about how vastly outnumbered they were. Maybe.

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proscribed
2011-04-26 12:12 pm UTC (link)

Scratch-hiss.

It took a handful of seconds for the match to do its business on the tobacco imprisoned by the pipe. Here he was, peering out through slats of wood forced onto wrought-iron frames. It was not meant to be protection against a breach. Merely to prevent the enemy from having a line of sight. Five hours he'd been at this particularly dull task. Five hours, standing next to the greenest of the green, a fellow who'd barely earned his right to a horse. Five hours, and the man couldn't stop talking about his young wife. She was alone, now, somewhere in the countryside.

It made Eragos think of Eithne, all forceful insistence and graceless desire. It made him wish he were elsewhere. A temper demanded he snap at the fellow. Or belt him in the jaw. Eragos did neither. He simply stared straight ahead as though all of the answers would come 'round the barricades any second now. Five hours, and not a single sign of enemy movement. Not one cloak fluttered in his vision. Not a single horse's step audible in the dead silence of the line.

"How come they ain't coming?" asked the young White Rider.

Eragos turned his head only slight. Smoke poured from his lips. Made it difficult to see Sleeping Tiger, but then the man was always a shadow. He had that quality to him. You were always afraid he would slip through your eyes. The young knight shoot his head, with a faint smile. Sleeping Tiger knew as well as anyone what it meant.

"They are," Eragos answered grimly. "No scouts? No patrols? They've finished toying with us."

Dawn came not as a revelation, but as a warning. Eragos blinked away the first suggestion of brightness. Torches were not yet doused. Stains of red and orange blotted the purple dome, as though there was some equally miserable battle being waged in the heavens, and they were now privy to its cost.

Perhaps he ought to pray. That was good for a laugh. Eragos clapped the young Rider on the shoulder, turned away from the post, and began walking. Smoke was what he left in his wake. The smell of cut apples and cinnamon. It would be a few hours at most, he thought, though the Grey Riders were clever enough to hold off a bit longer. Eragos no longer believed that it was a matter simply of holding off their assault. It was necessary now to defeat them here. The thought of those fiends with their magic on the field of battle, leading a cavalry charge, was more than he wanted to imagine.

Talon had to be here. What did that mean? Was this his plan? Seca's plan? Gola's plan? It made sense only if they completely crushed the White Riders.

Which was, Eragos suspected, precisely what they meant to do.

This or that feast hall was just like any other. It smelled of days gone by. A stench of sourness lingered. Any time this many people occupied a single keep, and found they could not escape beyond its walls, the stench was soon to follow. You could see it in the air. Thick as water to the touch, though Eragos did not try. Beyond it all there was Agrippa. And Eithne. That familiar burst of stone terror in his gut. That was the sensation. Terror.

He ignored it. Instead he dropped boneless into the chair opposite her. How long since he'd taken off this impossible sleeve of armor? Days? It must have been.

It must have been.

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oniwaban
2011-04-26 08:43 pm UTC (link)

You patrolled to get information. Numbers and locations. The reason you stopped patrolling is that you'd seen what you needed to. And then you either retreated, or you got ready to advance. Judging by the state of things the patrols hadn't been scared off.

he shook his head with a bit of a smirk. Not because it was actually funny but because hey, things fall apart.

Eragos struck a match. For some reason the noise of it was startling and made Sleeping Tiger think about finding a knife. But then his second thought was hey, good idea. There was something leathery perched between his lips and he realized that over an hour ago he'd put a cigar in his mouth. And then somehow forgotten it. So technically, Eragos, this was Sleeping Tiger's idea all along.

He took the match from Eragos before it died. The larger and frankly uglier knight moved on with his pipe lit, and Sleeping Tiger lagged behind a pace while he struggled with the cigar. He'd rolled it himself from broad leaves and trimmings he'd found. After four or five tries he'd gotten close enough to the real thing that they were smokable. He knew it was a waste, screwing around instead of letting an expert figure out how to bunch the leaves together. But the standing around, the waiting to die or kill, there was only so much a clear meditation could assuage. Finally, after a few bulldog sneering pulls, the damn thing caught a light. He shook his hand suddenly.

"Ahfukit," he mumbled around the cigar. Twiddled his burned fingertips in the air and caught up to Eragos. "I think he's in trouble," Sleeping Tiger said quietly. Eragos turned with not so much as a raised eyebrow.

"More'n rest of us," the younger knight quickly added. Eragos replied by tossing himself into a chair. Sleeping Tiger followed suit and waggled the toes of his boots at Eithne instead of his hand or his chin or even a hello.

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v_eritas
2011-05-06 04:31 am UTC (link)

On the steps of the Great Hall, the Teachers' shadows moved in odd waves. The shadows' darkness against the marble was as bold as what sunlight reflected from clean uniforms. Her own uniform had been stitched and washed white again by her own hand. Captain Agrippa sat with Vera late in the night as she repaired it, mostly keeping silent and drinking most of the tea she'd brewed to keep herself awake. There was little they said to each other now. Perhaps because there was too much to say and no time left to say it.

Vera looked up at the Lord's Tower before she passed through the doors to the Great Hall. Her nephew was there now, among those who could not fight. That group may not have been useful with weapons, but they still had the hand to craft simple weapons and arrows. Supplies had been brought to the Lord's Tower almost constantly. Vera still remembered Veros' determined face as he asked if he could help in the battle somehow. Her pride in her nephew reminded her of the pride she'd held in herself, once. And somehow, Vera had found another thing to bandage her soul together.

None of the Teachers could say what the meeting was for. Everyone had their own ideas. Hasna fetched Vera out of the Yard not long ago. Vera had been testing both paid and volunteer archers in the way her mother had once tested her on the Libera Fields. The morning wind was cool enough to steal some color from her face, but not strong enough to disturb the fishtail braid that kept her hair bound at her back. Vera wore her uniform without cape or hood, allowing only her mask to hang at her collar. A leather bracer still graced her bow-arm; she'd not thought to take it off. Twin birds were embossed on the leather, staring out for the bowstring with polished, amber eyes. It'd been some time since she wore a bracer. Maybe longer still until she would again. She had no intention of being an archer in a war.

Vera entered the room behind Teacher Doret whose height made it difficult to see across the large room. When he sat down, however, she knew why he didn't conduct the meeting in the Lord's Tower. Captain Agrippa was pulling all kinds of people into the meeting. Not just Teachers, but what remained of their party from Agethlea -- Eragos, Sleeping Tiger and Eithne. Elden, whose robes still weren't quite clean, sat at the table as if he'd been sleeping there all night. And as far as robes went, she recognized the robes of a priest from Bahamut's temple. Templar Fendrel sat not far from the man with someone Vera knew to be from the Citizens' Council.

For all the people around it, the table suddenly seemed small.

Finding a seat would have been harder if Elden hadn't been propping his feet up on one he'd saved for her. She sat down only to be welcomed by the smell of burnt hair.

"Teacher Kirkhall was testing some traps earlier," Elden explained quietly. "It didn't go so well."

"It went just fine," Kirkhall snapped.

"Of course," Elden chirped in return.

Vera nodded her hello to Eithne who sat down the table, and then Eragos. And Sleeping Tiger. A cheap greeting, maybe, but not a shy one. It was all that could be done. The Captain was ready to speak.

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caeleste_mods
2011-05-06 04:33 am UTC (link)

Agrippa surveyed the people around the table before he set down the papers before him and pushed at them, as if he’d never read them to begin with.

“We don’t have a lot of gods damned time. All of you know the fight that’s coming. Most of you know where you will be, with a few exceptions. We’ll discuss those. We’ve all done our part to be as ready as we can be. The point of this meeting is to make clear what we will accomplish. I want you to know the faces of the people around you, if not the names. They’re not to be forgotten.”

A Rider beside the Captain rolled out a large length of parchment of Simanel that bore many markings -- Elden’s pathways beneath the city, traps and all their layers, outposts, key skirmishes and retaken parts of the city, the neutral cherry orchards around Bahamut’s Temple, the boundaries of the Grey Rider’s camp. The Captain rose from his seat and leaned his hands on the table.

“The Grey Riders’ think they’ll infiltrate the city and burn us down from the inside. But we have not been hiding all these weeks, have we friends? We’ve been at work. We’re going to fight this like the nomads to the East. We’re going to invite them into our city only so that we can make them regret coming.”

“We have a small force. No more than 500, but strong. What we need in place now is solid leadership at all stations. There are three phases to the offensive we’ve been building -- theater, bravery, and deception. The theater will be in challenging the Grey Riders before they have the opportunity to reach the Castel. This distraction will buy our men time to get into place. The great cloud-maker of Bahamut’s temple in combination with Elden’s tunnels will give us the proper cover. Bravery will come from the line of White Riders led into battle, the most capable of us fighting in the open. Deception -- the more stealthy of our number will attack from hidden locations in combination with traps, working to keep any concentrated force from getting to the Castel wall.”

Agrippa looked down the table.

“Teacher Hasna will be leading those who stay to defend the Castel. The temple and the Council know their roles. Riders, Teachers -- suggestions for your assignments are welcome for once,” Agrippa’s voice became dry. “But don’t get used to it. I don’t plan on dying and I like writing the assignment roster.”

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got_a_light
2011-05-14 04:47 am UTC (link)

Eithne smiled just a little when Eragos dropped into the chair across from her. She knew that pleasant feeling in her gut was not all together welcome in this meeting, but it was better than the second feeling that settled in. The dread. There were two fears in her mind. Fear of her own death, and fear of his death. A month or more ago she would have been more worried about her own life, but now that she was honest with herself she was more worried about him. If she died but he lived she thought she'd be okay with that. But if he died, well, what did she have to live for? She wouldn't tell him that, he'd probably think it was an unhealthy stance, or be worried about her more than he probably already was. She didn't want to see any of them die. No one at this table. No one in the Castel. No one in the city. She was sick of death, and sick of watching the people she cared about being hurt.

She didn't want to have to go behind every one's back again unless necessary, but she was sure somewhere along the line it was going to be required. They wanted to operate within the law when other people were willing to not only break the law but force new laws to be made in order to accommodate them. It was ridiculous and needed to end and if she had to go around the laws and behind their backs to do it she would.

She just needed to stop thinking about the fact that she'd cost Eragos a friend. That the friend she'd murdered was actually a snake and would have killed him if she hadn't killed Tirad first. Eithne nodded to Sleeping Tiger and then to Vera when she came in before she turned her head to look at Agrippa. Eithne pulled one of her cigarettes out of her pocket while the captain was speaking. Eragos and Sleeping Tiger's smoking was making her want to do the same, so she barely waited after she'd put the thing in her mouth before lighting it. She eyed Agrippa and took a few puffs before exhaling a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. Her eyes left Agrippa for a second and looked at Eragos.

If she told Agrippa she wanted to go wherever Eragos was going would probably end up with her being stuck back in the Castel. She wanted to fight and protect in the open, and not be behind closed doors or walled castles.

"Theater, or Bravery would be fine with me. I'm great at distracting. But I assume that those who begin in theater are going to move into bravery instead of retreating back to help the last group, am I right?" Eithne sat forward and straight, when she did her back cracked and she tilted her head to crack that as well. "So once bravery comes out of wherever and attacks those of us who were out as a distraction can move in with the bravery people. Makes sense to me, at least, we might need to have some people fall back, but the majority of the theater can just continue fighting."

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proscribed
2011-05-31 03:46 am UTC (link)

The cloud-maker. Eragos chewed on the stem of his pipe, half in thought and half in anger. No, the proportions of emotion were more muddied than that. He used the debate to distract himself from the hateful glanced he'd received, teaching swords in the courtyard. As was his custom, he taught shirtless, to avoid discomfort or building filth on what was his last clean tunic. The acolytes would have jeered, if they'd dared, but they satisfied themselves with closing their eyes and praying whenever his gaze fell upon them.

That gaze fell hot and heavy, angry as the summer sun, and it would have blistered if it could.

This idea of defending the Castel was a only a distraction. All of it. If no one came to their aid the White Riders would burn and die to the last man inside of their glorious Castel. Everything that happened here was a great many sacrificing themselves, that a few might live. There were few causes more noble than this. Yet he increasingly felt apart from the people gathered in this hall. Good people, all, even the scold from the dragon's temple.

The distance was measured in curses and glances. Once with only the best of intentions, now distant and confused - angry only in the silent, lonely moments.

He could not look at the Lady Vera without feeling shame.
He could not look at the Lady Vera without feeling anger.

Every last ounce of his being simply wished for the fight, and the end. Talon would be here. Talon would be here. And if he did nothing else, he had to ensure that this was the last battle in which his brother fought. Time exacted its price against all of them, but Eragos was already bound for that place of legends. What other darkness could the gods use to threaten a man who plotted the death of his brother?

There was nothing.

He kept his peace, then, eyes as cloudy as the smoke that mocked his nose. There was nothing for him yet to say.

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oniwaban
2011-06-09 11:38 pm UTC (link)

"Hello, Lady," Sleeping Tiger returned Vera's nod. Would it kill the dame to open her damn mouth and be polite now and then? He shrugged at himself and glanced down the length of his nose and to the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar.

Enter AGRIPPA.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked this Agrippa fellow. Which made him suspicious, but only for a moment. Someone in charge was putting their foot down and making decisions. And by the sound of things they were good ones. Inviting the enemy in was daring, flamboyant.

"Cloud Maker?" Sleeping Tiger asked quietly. Might as well have strung a sign around his neck. Fish out of water, over here. "Either way, put me in Deception. A good chance to show these bastards precisely what I'm engineered for."

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v_eritas
2011-06-11 03:15 am UTC (link)

Vera noticed Elden sitting straighter in his chair as people let the Captain know where they wanted to be assigned. The sorcerer looked at the map and scratched at the stubble he'd not thought to take care of that morning. Where did Elden want to be? She did not think she knew that any better than she knew for herself.

Vera waited only because she was still trying to determine where she'd be the most use. Or rather, how she could be in the right place at a crucial second that no amount of divining could clarify. It was impossible to look at the map and feel drawn to any one position. All Vera knew was that she wanted to be out there in the burning roads, doing what her Captain asked: forcing regret and death into the Grey Riders with more violence than any crashing tower, any pile of scorched corpses. It was a dark thought, a promise of shallow sleep. There was a time, not long ago, when she offered the Grey Riders a chance to face justice rather than vengeance. She should have felt shame for her desire to kill them...

She did not.

"I volunteer myself and Rider Vera for creating some theater," Elden said, after a lull in the conversation. There was a spark in his tone that drew the Captain's wary gaze. The sorcerer rubbed his palms together. "I have a repertoire of grand effects and Rider Vera has a history of approaching dangerous people, alone, in risky situations."

Vera narrowed her eyes at him.

"Correction," Elden cleared his throat. "Insane and extremely perilous situations. And somehow she survives."

"They are not that bad," Vera said under her breath. It was a lie, but she had to at least try to defend herself.

"No, no, I have traveled with you for less than a year and have almost died more times than in the last ten. Credit where credit is due, my Lady."

"You--"

"My point being," And Elden shifted his chair away from her so that she could not kick him under the table. "That it would be in character for Rider Vera to approach the advancing Greys in a last ditch effort for diplomacy. She appealed to their non-existent morals in Hatharida. Granted, they tried to kill us all shortly afterward, but she has a way of inspiring evil people into monologues. And the second that fails, I will do something impressive that can also be a signal for our attack."

She did not think that Elden spoke unwisely, but something in her chest riled at the idea of having to add another mask to her many facades. Vera was performing constantly -- bravery for the Walkers who asked them if they had a chance, confidence for the archers with unsteady hands, calm for those who expected to find her grieving, hope...for the people who looked to the horizon and truly knew what was coming. Even in sleep, she was not able to be the person rattling the cage of her mind. It was not in Vera's heart to extend an olive branch to the Grey Riders, even for sake of distraction. Not any more. Hania's blood stained the color of their cloaks, their eyes were not more than the coals of a burning Simanel, their hands were but swords and bone to her.

The Captain's eyes shifted her way.

Vera could not look back at him, any more than she could look down the table to read Eragos' expression at that moment. She told herself she would pretend where she could not do. She was still in command of her mind, after all.

Still, there was no road she chose for herself. There was nothing for her to say against such a strategy. Elden was right...she could do it. And Vera was being asked if she would.

Vera looked at the map, her lips thinning.

"It is not a bad plan. Elden is right, I have survived a great deal. I am capable, Captain, and would perform at my best."

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caeleste_mods
2011-06-11 04:07 am UTC (link)

Vera's response was the least enthusiastic out of them all, barring Feareborne's silence. As a mentor, as a friend, he wanted to reject the plan outright just because of the deadness in her voice. As Captain, he couldn't. She volunteered and pointed out her record. Elden was more than qualified to watch the back of a Rider. They were in desperate need of a good distraction and he had to put his best people on it.

All of these people at the table were his best people.

"Fine," Agrippa said. He leaned forward. "Then it's decided. Savastian, if you're volunteering, then you'll go out with Elden and Vera. I'm sure setting something on fire will lend to effects. You won't have to meet with those on the offensive. The plan is for them to come to you."

The Captain looked at Sleeping Tiger. If that was his name. Vargis purposefully botched the boy's name so many times -- Snoozing Lion, Snoring Cat, Slumbering Panther -- that Agrippa second guessed his own memory. "You will be given a layout of the traps already built around the city, though I'm sure you can remember where most of them are. We've also placed people to pass information around Simanel, in case you become too disconnected. You can go to them and they should be able to report accurately on what is happening."

When he finally looked to Feareborne, he found the man chewing on his pipe with the sort of angry look that he was known for. Agrippa had seen Walkers imitate Eragos's scowl by chewing on lemonsbefore drinking down some hard liquor that their throats couldn't handle. The Captain could not guess at what was brewing in the boy's head. It wasn't normal to get nothing from him.

"Unless you have some other grand plan, Eragos," Agrippa said. "Half the line has those damned blue scarves tied on their arms. They've seen you in the Yard and at posts. It would do them good to have you at the front."

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got_a_light
2011-06-12 09:59 pm UTC (link)

Setting something on fire. Eithne almost smiled, she could do better than that, but she didn't like the idea of trying to set anything in Simanel on fire. While most of the people had fled or offered their services to the White Riders. this was still their home, and partly her own. In another time, at least. Simanel had been in part her home. Now a circle of houses seemed to be the most welcomed and distant thought in her mind. Too far away to really long for it, but close enough that she did long. A long sleep, a way to rest her bones. But there was no time for resting, less time for making jokes about setting people on fire. Too many lost friends.

Not enough time to mourn them all. She looked over at Eragos, giving one of his scowls around his pipe. She knew the feeling. Anger seeped into every thought these days. Almost all of them. Anger at everyone who was involved, angry that this wasn't over already, angry that there was no time to rest or too much time between fights. Eithne wanted to get her hands dirty again and end part of this here in Simanel, but she did not want to lose anyone else to this fight. Not anyone at this table, or anyone in the Yard, or the city itself. She could not stand to lose more of them when it seemed so close to the end of something.

Did they have enough spirit to do anything at all? They had all lost so much.

"Sounds fine by me." A cigarette rolled between her fingers and she took a puff from it and stared at Eragos.

Cols had asked her why she wasn't wearing a blue scarf. The answer had been because she didn't wear another person's colors. But the truth had been that she already wore it in her heart, and he didn't have to see her tying a ridiculous scarf to her arm to know what side she was on, or who she believed in.

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proscribed
2011-06-13 09:43 pm UTC (link)

Where was Talon most likely to appear? Eragos knew as soon as the thought flashed red and wicked precisely where his brother would be. Talon was staring at a map just like this, or very similar to it, and he was making the same decision. Where was Eragos Feareborne most likely to be found? They were the opposite of faithful brothers, now. Each of them trying to predict the other's mind - a mind that was little more than a stranger after all this time. Talon would probably smile at that map, and the thought of combat to come. As though he lived only for the fight. Always the fight that he could have only once. Eragos tried to imagine himself anywhere but the front, leading these White Riders into battle... and he could not.

"I've no doubt you could be useful," Eragos spoke to Sleeping Tiger without turning his head. "In distracting and assaulting them. I would prefer you at the front, all things being equal."

There was an alchemist inside the Castel. Even if one man could hurl only one bomb, ten dozen of those bombs could make the fight something closer to even. Eragos wanted every advantage that he could have without trying and failing to use any kind of organized magic in the middle of a melee. He still remembered the day that he'd been named as a master swordsman and allowed to grow a beard. Since children did not have the facial hair, it was the mark of a man - regardless of his age. Not many of Talon's allies wore clean faces. Those that did, more out of deference to their combat needs than tradition. Why was he thinking of this now? Because he was one master swordsman, along with possibly two others, against an entire group of them.

There was one more thing he believed he was going to try, if he could find the time and also somehow be incredibly lucky. It was a long chance, but one that he'd have to take. Talon would be at the front. Talon would want to end Eragos before he took the Castel. Talon would be under enormous pressure to end this before anything resembling reinforcements could arrive. Perhaps the mistake would come there. Talon was angry, and young, and faster than his brother. Yet he was also weaker in all the ways that mattered. His arms were feeble. His heart was pale. His mind was impressionable. He could make himself believe anything. Eragos knew the truth when he saw it.

"I will do as you say," was his last comment.

Another stream of smoke leaked out of his mouth. To court death was the expected behavior of a swordsman from the mountain. Eragos did not think he was courting it, any longer, so much as inviting it inside and letting it know that it could have anything it wanted.

A child's thoughts.

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oniwaban
2011-06-19 04:05 am UTC (link)

Sleeping Tiger was about to protest but bit down on it. Just because something wants to leap out of you, there's no reason to let it do so. So while it was his instinct to let Eragos know that his gut said he'd cause the most damage staying hidden, obfuscating his movements, he finally nodded.

"Alright, then, I'll go with you."

Either way made sense. He was best at setting traps, tricking men into fighting where they were labored and disadvantaged, and exploding from nowhere. But he could fight in the open. He could kill men even when they knew he was coming, and he'd been proving it lately. Maybe some of the Riders weren't that reliable; they couldn't all be as talented as the ones he'd been traveling with. Maybe Eragos just wanted to stand next to someone that reminded him of his home--since he'd be fighting against that too.

Sleeping Tiger tossed his cigar away and uncorked his canteen.

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