- Messages
- 279
- Character Biography
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More fighters for the cause. That was why Elliot was here in the far southeast of Dalriada, somewhere in the midpoint between Alliria and Oban proper. The coast of the Allirian Strait itself was a good arrow-shot away from where he and five freewomen lay in ambush.
It was hot, and the afternoon sun baked the land. Elliot lay prone on the ground, the defilade of the small incline by the coastal road shielding the sight of him and his companions. He carefully armed some sweat from his brow.
Through the scrub brush he watched the road. In the distance, coming from the Allirian way of the road, another small dot of a caravan. The shimmering heat of the horizon made it even more indistinct.
"Another false alarm?" mused Clarissa.
"I hope not," said Agnis, the eldest human of the group. "Momma's getting tired of sweating out here."
Murmurs of approval among the freewomen: "You and me both"; "Astra hears that"; "Ugh...I can't wait."
Vaya, she with the perennial smile and who was their resident font of sly commentary, said to Elliot, "So we're going to cool off in the Strait once we're done right?"
"Feel free."
"You better not peek."
Elliot glanced over. Shared a ghost of a smile. "I wouldn't worry too much about that."
Vaya, lightning-quick with an impish grin. "But Agnis would appreciate it."
Agnis smacked her, and the rest of the freewomen had a good laugh of the affair. Elliot was one to keep his emotions firmly in check, but...he hoped sincerely that each of the freewomen lived through today. Further still, lived through all the battles ahead to see their home of Oban liberated. They were all good people, strong of character each in their own way.
But, as the prison convoy drew closer and closer, Elliot knew that the world despised hope. Reality was harsh. And violence, the only tool by which Oban could so be liberated, was as callous as it was indiscriminate.
Inside the cage wagon of that convoy: Rachel Rocinfaer. A "Sister of the Sea," a clandestine group which even Elliot, with his own little network of eyes and ears, knew nothing about. But the Obanese authority very clearly wanted her in their custody. Thus, upon catching wind of this prisoner transfer, a chance to disrupt whatever ends Oban had for her. A chance to see if these Sisters of the Sea shared the same notions as Elliot and his own group.
And, mayhap, a chance to garner more fighters for the cause.
Alyxander Quellchrist
It was hot, and the afternoon sun baked the land. Elliot lay prone on the ground, the defilade of the small incline by the coastal road shielding the sight of him and his companions. He carefully armed some sweat from his brow.
Through the scrub brush he watched the road. In the distance, coming from the Allirian way of the road, another small dot of a caravan. The shimmering heat of the horizon made it even more indistinct.
"Another false alarm?" mused Clarissa.
"I hope not," said Agnis, the eldest human of the group. "Momma's getting tired of sweating out here."
Murmurs of approval among the freewomen: "You and me both"; "Astra hears that"; "Ugh...I can't wait."
Vaya, she with the perennial smile and who was their resident font of sly commentary, said to Elliot, "So we're going to cool off in the Strait once we're done right?"
"Feel free."
"You better not peek."
Elliot glanced over. Shared a ghost of a smile. "I wouldn't worry too much about that."
Vaya, lightning-quick with an impish grin. "But Agnis would appreciate it."
Agnis smacked her, and the rest of the freewomen had a good laugh of the affair. Elliot was one to keep his emotions firmly in check, but...he hoped sincerely that each of the freewomen lived through today. Further still, lived through all the battles ahead to see their home of Oban liberated. They were all good people, strong of character each in their own way.
But, as the prison convoy drew closer and closer, Elliot knew that the world despised hope. Reality was harsh. And violence, the only tool by which Oban could so be liberated, was as callous as it was indiscriminate.
Inside the cage wagon of that convoy: Rachel Rocinfaer. A "Sister of the Sea," a clandestine group which even Elliot, with his own little network of eyes and ears, knew nothing about. But the Obanese authority very clearly wanted her in their custody. Thus, upon catching wind of this prisoner transfer, a chance to disrupt whatever ends Oban had for her. A chance to see if these Sisters of the Sea shared the same notions as Elliot and his own group.
And, mayhap, a chance to garner more fighters for the cause.
Alyxander Quellchrist