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Joined: 14 Dec 2003
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 PostPosted: Sun Dec 14, 2003 5:21 am    Post subject: Trid Reply with quote Back to top

Everyone called him Trid, he let them, a name was just like a cloak, it could be changed with only a little effort. He had had many names in his life, some well known, others shrouded in obscurity, but right now, he was Trid. He studied himself in the mirror in front of him, rare things, in this part of the world, mirrors. It had been a stroke of luck that he had joined a group with a mirror. His brown eyes stared back at him, deep wells of experience, and a different kind of sadness than most are used to. A white scar, earned he could not remember when, ran from his left temple, to the right corner of his mouth, and neat red hair gave him a fiery look. A studded bandolier held a long-sword, the leather wrapped hilt protruding over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows and a long knife hung at his belt, and he had knives everywhere but inside his mouth. He was, after all, this traveling groups only guard.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror, and took long, strong strides from the wagon, he would get a tongue lashing from Lyasa for going in their without permission, but the mirror, the chance to remind himself that he truly was human, was worth it. He strode over to the cook fire, where the rest of the company sat, eating and drinking Elven Brandy, kindly supplied by Morrin, the resident elf, who by the glazed look in his eyes and the fact that he was laughing at jokes that hadn't been told yet, had already partaken heavily. Trid took a seat between Oltan, the muscle bound blacksmith of the group, and Tenris, the woman who sold what Oltan made. The relationship confused him, why would the blacksmith trust this woman, when she could at any time just disappear with some of the best work that Trid had seen in his life, several of his knives, and arrow heads had been done by the man, and they cut better than anything he had previously owned. But, as it was none of his business, Trid never inquired, that was his policy, don't stick your nose in anything that doesn't concern you. Unless you got paid.

The blacksmith offered him a skin of Brandy, and he graciously accepted, draining it in a few gulps, after which he got up and went over to the fire, some of the people stared, most could still not accept his resilience to alcohol, they envied it. He picked up a stick of roasting meet and went back to his place, where he slowly ate the chicken, pork, beef, and mutton off the stave.

A man on the other side of the fire, Kimqua, a tailor, levered his intoxicated hump up and lumbered off toward the trees, no doubt the brandy had reached more than his head. Halfway there, he tripped, falling flat on his face, where he lay for a minute, probably dozing, before rising and continuing to the trees. He stood there for a moment, answering nature's call, before turning around.

As the man turned around, Trid suddenly brought his head up, looking toward him, fast as thought, he was on his feet, diving forward, a knife appeared in his hands, and while still in the air, he flicked his wrist, sending the blade straight toward the tailor, who stood stone still, paralyzed with fear. The knife grazed his coat, and continued on its way, followed by another before Trid had hit the ground.

The fear frozen tailor heard twin thuds as the bodies of two men fell from the concealment of the trees. Both were cloaked and hooded in forest garb, each grasped a dagger in his hand. Kimqua stared dully at the bodies, and didn't even notice when the human arsenal of Trid flew past him into the woods.

The guard soon found the camp of the two men, not even a hundred paces from their own, but he also found another man and 3 horses. As soon as he entered the small clearing, the man rose, no doubt to congratulate his comrades on a job well done, but instead got a knife in the gut. Trid sheathed his knife and went about the task of searching the camp, only one tent, with nothing of value in it, so he took it down and put it on one of the horses, after which he loaded the body of the man onto another and led all three back to the wagon camp.

When he returned, the two bodies were still there, and Kimqua had joined the others around the fire, Trid had made it quite clear that no other would touch any man he killed. He led the horses over to the picket, where he rubbed each down and gave them food and water. He returned and stripped the bodies of weapons and wealth, three swords, two daggers and a mace, not to mention a total of 25 crowns, not bad for wood brigands. In truth, he was relieved to find no rings on their fingers, no identification as rangers, he disliked killing good men. When he was done and had stored everything in his saddlebags and pouches, he said a prayer to Agrella, giving the final forgiveness to the three men, and then labored most of the night digging graves and covering them over again.

Long after the rest of the group had retired to their wagons, Trid sat against the trunk of a tree, thinking. It had had to be done, he had heard them in the trees, light footfalls, meant for stealth, he had heard the slow draw of daggers, meant for death, he had reacted in the only way he could have, to wait another moment would have spelled death for that old fool tailor. He had seen the look on their lifeless faces as he flew by, filled with uncaring cruelty even in death, even in the eternal peace. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his hand to the scar on his face, tracing the white line. It was because of men like that that he had this, because of men like that that he led this life.

Near dawn, he went to check on the new horses, they were adjusting well, seeming to get on well with the old horses, both team, pack and riding ones. He studied them, the largest, a shaggy brown mare, he would give to Tash, he knew she took care of her horses, and she didn't have one just to ride, it would be a way to ensure its safe keeping and do something other than kill for a member of the group. The second, he would keep, his old bay was worked too hard, and a remount would do them both good. The other, a gray with sturdy legs could be pack; it would be nice to see the other packhorses get a lightened load.

When the others woke, he was ready to go. Kimqua offered profuse words of thanks, Trid shrugged them off, he had done what was necessary, nothing more. He said nothing as the wagon group made its slow crawl onward, he didn't care when they reached Noond, as long as they did.

By the gods he was tired!
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Joined: 14 Dec 2003
Posts: 5

 PostPosted: Mon Feb 16, 2004 1:57 am    Post subject: Trid Reply with quote Back to top

He was being chased, by whom, he didn’t know, all he knew was that he couldn’t be caught, too much depended on him. He looked to his right, to where his hand clasped that of a little girl. He remembered her, his sister. “It’s okay Kailie, it’s okay, we’ll be fine,” he heard the words, he felt his lips move, but he didn’t say them.

He ran and he ran, but they always got closer, closer until he could hear their feet behind him. Kailie tripped, her nightgown tangling her feet. He looked into her face, she was scared, very scared. He picked her up, holding her tight, and ran, faster than before. But he could hear them, almost upon him.

He tripped, feet flying out from under him. In the air, he curled his body around Kailie’s protectively, and landed on his back, losing his wind. Before he could get up, they were their, surrounding him, kicking him, hurting his sister. They wouldn’t stop, they wouldn’t heed his cries or Kailie’s wails of pain. An eternity later, they stopped.

Kailie was pulled off him, yanked away. “this is what happens to those who assault his lordship,” He opened his eyes just in time to see a knife driven into his sister’s chest.

Trid woke up screaming, thrashing about on his cot, flailing his arms at unseen demons. “Kailie,” he sobbed into his pillow, “I’m sorry,” he spent the rest of the night weeping.
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 PostPosted: Tue Feb 17, 2004 12:35 am    Post subject: Trid Reply with quote Back to top

The night sky, brilliant in its enormity, beautiful in its chaos, was being eaten away by the encroaching sunlight. The cool night air, refreshing and moist, was being warmed by the rays of the devourer. The cool breeze turned warm, and the animals awoke. But for one, the night’s work had ended. The sleek red stallion came to a halt at the first sign of daylight, and the rider, more tired than his mount, collapsed to the ground.

The man lay there for a moment, heaving in painful gasps of air, trying to control the water that threatened to seep from his eyes. He rose to his feet and looked to the horizon, studied the encroaching sunlight. It burnt his eyes. The warm air stung his nostrils, and he was forced to sleep. He pitched his tent between two trees. Actually, it was simply a canvas tied to branches off to the left of the road. He slept then, and every so often, he’d thrash, scream into the day. His horse slept there too, but from its stance, it could wake at the slightest sound, but it never moved a muscle at the man’s screams.

When he awoke at nightfall, just as the sun disappeared over the mountains, the man stared off west, his gaze filled with a strange longing, an almost feverish, obsessed look. “Soon,” he said, his tone filled with anticipation, “very soon,” he scratched his horse behind the ear and mounted. “They cannot run forever.”
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 PostPosted: Fri Feb 27, 2004 1:28 pm    Post subject: Trid Reply with quote Back to top

Trid looked out over Noond, studied its sprawling mass. Guard towers surrounded the coastal settlement, and ballistae filled the holes. It looked impenetrable, and the multitude of lights made it look like a flourishing ages-old city. Strange, since it had only existed for three years. Trid figured it must be all about location, the city sat at the edge of Kintral Bay, and was only a ferry ride away from the Isle of Tantros, the only place in the world you could find the legendary Trubian horse, whose main made the best arrow string in the world. The horse other amazing trait was its ability to run great distances at high speeds and not die of exhaustion. The horse was the reason the city had flourished financially, and the beautiful location was the reason it had received a great influx of settlers.

Settlers like Tash and the rest of her company. That’s why they had come here, that’s why he had tagged along. He’d tried to convince himself it was for his own reasons, but when it came down to it, the decision had been hers; she seemed to rule his mind and actions.

Trid started down into the city, and was stopped by a guard bearing the twin eagles, the crest of the Noondian Peacekeepers. “Halt, who goes ther!?”

Trid stopped, and put his arms in the air, empty, “group of settlers inbound from Mayhew!” he called back.

The guard reached him, and studied his face, “very well, first off I’ll need—ung!” He was cut off for the fact that his neck had been broken.

Trid stepped back in alarm, sword already in hand. The figure standing behind the now dead guard laughed, a deep, disturbing chuckle. “So, I have caught you at last.”

The man stepped forward into the guard’s torchlight, and Trid’s face went blank. Something awoke in his eyes, a fire, a deep seething hatred. His face twisted in fury. “You!”
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