Private Tales Scorched Earth

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
She ignored the first creak, but not the second. Listening carefully with her eyes closed, she heard the usual night noises -- then another creak. Fife opened her eyes and pushed herself up very slowly. She turned to look at the door, and a warning prickles ran up her spine. It wasn't the wind or a shift in pressure as the weather outside changed.

Her heart was thundering in her ears, but she slowly sat up further and leaned toward the bed. Without taking her eyes off of the door, she grabbed his arm and shook him gently. It might have just been her jumpy nerves after her nightmares, but if it wasn't... Well, that's why she was waking him up instead of laying back down.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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Raigryn murmured quietly. He tried to roll away from Fife but the boy was persistent in tugging at his arm.

"I'm awake," he said lifting a hand up. His voice suggested that he wasn't all the way there yet. He blinked his eyes, pulling the sheets down to his waist.

Remembering where they were his eyes opened wide.

"What is it?" he hissed sharply, just as the door was thrown open and four men with hatchets rushed into the room.
 
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She was angry and frustrated with herself that she couldn't just tell him what was wrong to wake him up. Raigryn was groggy and slow, and she gave his arm a firmer shake before he finally started to rouse. She saw the moment he finally understood, but her only reply was a wide-eyed worry. There wasn't time for any other reply.

Fife gasped, jerking away from Raigryn and the door. She was too startled to manifest any of her newer Aspects, and defaulted to the physical training he'd given. She snatched the knife under the mattress -- an old habit that months on the road hadn't remedied -- and tapped the sleepy pool of Tranquility to hastily back against the far wall.

She wasn't a physical combatant and her crossbow was on the other side of the room. Their side of the room. She knew a four-to-one fight when he was still horizontal wasn't putting this in his favor. Fife snapped up to her feet, awash with the feeling of stolen calmness, and held her knkfe at the ready.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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Almost as soon as Raigryn pushed himself up from the bed he was pushed down into it. The weight of a man landed on his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. The blunt side of a hatchet struck him in the side of the head. His world span.

If his attack had aimed to strike him with the hatchet blade his skull would have already split.

He would have shouted for Fife to run, but there was nowhere to go. One of them stayed by the door, the other two going for the boy.

Why?

He tried to reach for his aspects but his head was swimming. The handle of a hatchet was driven beneath his jaw, crushing his windpipe as his hands slapped and grasped, looking for something to grab onto.
 
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One of the men jumped on top of Raigryn and two others rushed toward Fife. She swiped out with the knife at one and the other made to grab her. A mistake, since she was faster than him and his partner. Her first attempt had missed, but with the man's arms around her there was no missing the second time around. He flinched just in time, and her boot knife lodged into his shoulder instead of his neck.

But with two of them, she was going to be easily overpowered. The first had restrained her arms and the second moved for her legs. Still calm from the use of her Tranquility, she could focus on the midst of her panic. She tapped her final reserve of Fury, curled up her leg, and kicked her second assailant. It hit him right in the gut and he sprawled back.

Without waiting for him to get his bearings after veritably being kicked by a horse, Fife turned her head and bit down on the closest part of the first man she could reach. His forearm, consequently. If they thought she was going to be exactly to grab because she was small, they were sorely mistaken.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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"Just grab the girl and go!" shouted the man at the door.

"It's a lad, and he fucking bites!" came a furious, and pained, retort. "You little fucking animal"

He tried to strike Fife in the side of the head with his bleeding arm. It looked a ragged cut, one that wouldn't heal cleanly.

"Get up Ivor, can't have kicked you that hard." But Ivor did not get up.

Mortess kept the pressure on the old man's neck until his eyes rolled back. When he stopped struggling he rolled him away.

"Stay down old man."

Raigryn groaned as his head flopped to one side, looking away from Fife. His fingers clenched and unclenched on the sheets.
 
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Fife fought hard. The man holding her was easily thrice her size, but he had to rip his arm away from her teeth. He hit her hard, but not hard enough. Calling her a fucking animal! If he wanted her to stay down, he was going to have to knock her out entirely.

She recovered for only a moment from being struck, and when she did, Fife twisted and thrashed in the man's arms. She arched her head back against the man's shoulder, where the blade was still sticking out of his shoulder. The hilt hurt, but not nearly as much as the other end was hurting her captor.

She took advantage of the moment to look toward Raigryn... only to see the third man rolling him away from her, unmoving.

She blanched and started squirming harder. But she'd drained her Aspects and her ears were still ringing. She had nothing left to surprise or fight them. No! Not Raigryn! She whistled his name with a loud, shrill whistle between her teeth. After all he'd been through and all they'd fought off in the last few months, this couldn't be what outmatched him.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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That shrill whistle cut right through his head. Fife was being dragged down. Why were they even bothering with the boy? Slavers perhaps.

Raigryn could see his hand in front of his face. It was blurry. He tried flexing his fingers. Instead of hurting, he felt numb from head to toe. Somehow that was worse.

He felt disconnected from the hand that stretched out across the bed. It grasped the edge of the bed and started to pull. He had so little Charity left to call on that it wasn't worth reaching for. He was too angry to dare testing his Fury.

All four of the men tried to restrain Fife now, grabbing his limbs and pinning him to the bed.

"Fucking hell, get the rope!"

A soft hiss cut through the din. A threatening noise, like a serpent that had been disturbed. The sound of a sword being slowly pulled from a scabbard.

Blood had matted silver hair to his face and his back was against the wall, but Raigryn had stood and drawn his sword. The room was too small to use it well, but someone was going to lose a limb of he had to swing it.

"Let him go," Raigryn growled.
 
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The other men were finally getting involved in restraining her and the temporary clarity the Tranquility had provided was fading. She couldn't truly fend off one grown man, and two more easily overpowered her after her useful Aspects were burnt up.

Tears burned in her eyes as they grabbed her kicking limbs and pinned her roughly to the mattress -- an awful feeling that only heightened the feeling of terror that was rushing in to offset the false calm she had borrowed. She started to fight harder, but they had her restrained. It was difficult to breathe. Her chest burned, her head was ringing like a bell, and she was afraid.

Fife missed the hiss of the blade in her quiet, voiceless panic, but there was no missing the sound of his voice. She had fought hard, and was still struggling -- either valiantly in spite of overwhelming odds or desperately in her mounting fear -- but a relieved sob shook through her. She couldn't see him, but he was alive.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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"You don't appear to be letting him go?"

"You don't look like you could lift that sword."

Another time and he might have come up with a witty retort to that. They had Fife. It didn't matter that the boy was still struggling. If they wanted to they could slit his throat before Raigryn could stop them.

Empathy was not a flashy magic. Small alterations of reality were at the heart of its power. Changes that had big effects if planned well.

When two of them were looking her drew just enough from his Avarice to throw several green globs of energy against the far wall. They hissed and crackled, leaving dark scorch marks.

"Step away," he requested once more. Planting both feet, he lifted the sword. His arms didn't feel like they could hold it for long, but he managed to keep them from shaking.
 
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She kept wriggling in spite of their restraining hands, offering Raigryn as much of a distraction as she could. She still couldn't see him, but he asked again and her would-be captor's response was clear. They weren't letting her go.

Fife felt as much as heard the use of Empathy. She strained her eyes to see above her, but none of them seemed affected. Something was singed by the smell in the air, but not them. Had Raigryn missed them?

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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His breathing had slowed. The tip of the sword held steady in the air. It took time to steady the mind. Now he just needed to turn that concentration to the problem.

He drew from his Disgust, planting a seed in the men that this fight was not worth it. A mind was a difficult thing to change. It needed a push too.

Raigryn could have put all his power behind that swing and lopped off the nearest head. This was already traumatising enough for Fife without being presented with such a grisly scene.

He swung low, chopping into the meat of the nearest man's calf. In the confines of the room he gripped his sword half way up the blade.

"I told you to..." growled the one who had nearly choked him to death. The overhand chop of the hatchet was met with the blade of the sword, catching the blade between Raigryn's hands. With a hard twist he drove the sword to his left, then slammed the guard into the bandit's head.

Two down. He needed the other two to leave before he collapsed.
 
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She heard the first pass of the sword and the weight on one of her arms lifted. Fife yanked it to her body and tried pushing at the other hands restraining her. She had the sense to keep her hand low, however, and well out of Raigryn's potential swings -- she'd kept her hand intact through Elbion, she wasn't losing it to carelessness.

The one who had hurt Raigryn let go of her, and she immediately made holding her down difficult for the other two. She dug deep for the strength to keep fighting them off, trying to wriggle out of their grasp, but she was as tired as they were. Her breaths were raspy from the weight on her chest and her bindings. She didn't know if her head was dizzy from the shortness of breath or the clocking she'd taken earlier.

Just a little longer. If she could keep them from picking her up and using her as a shield against Raigryn, he could surely fend them off. They were as limited by the close quarters as he was. That evened the odds, right?

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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"Go, now, and you won't be hurt," Raigryn growled. Please go, so I don't collapse, he thought to himself. Now it truly was taking every bit of resolve to stay on his feet.

He could see it there, the little seed he had planted. It had been wrapped up in fear and turned into an powerful calling. He wished he was level headed enough to draw on Fury, Joy or Tranquility. The physical exertion had only made him angrier.

His gaze snapped to Fife, who still desperately struggled.

"Fife, open your mind, take my anger!" he called out sharply. He let his protective walls fall down. Fife could tap the anger he felt at seeing the boy held down like that. In turn Raigryn could draw from Fife's fear and distress and turn it into Misery.
 
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The guards weren't going. Fife gritted her teeth, preparing to dig down and keep fighting with all she had left.

But the moment he called her to action, Fife responded.

She reached out and mercilessly tapped Raigryn's Fury. He might have been too unstable to draw the Aspects, but Fife had only known unbalance. She drew only what she needed, however -- a strange moment for rare excellence, but she knew Fury best.

Fife reached up and grabbed the arm of the man pinning her face. It was the first man -- one she had already stabbed and bitten. His hand was pulled away and before he could respond, Fife had flipped onto her back. She drew her feet up between them and she saw the understanding in his eyes before she kicked out.

Her feet hit him in the chest and he was thrown back. Fife wasn't wasting the freedom. She scrambled toward Raigryn and pressed herself against the wall, out of reach and now with a sword between them and herself.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
Some of the edge of his anger was drained away. It was so different for an Empath to be aware of the magic at work, to feel it pull from your feelings. As if his heart had suddenly become a sieve that could no longer holder the full weight of some emotions. He quickly closed himself off when Fife was free, drawing from the boy's concern.

Both of them were reckless in this action, but as he had shown Fife many times he broke the rules when it was a choice between those dangers and becoming worm food. Perhaps he had shown Fife that too many times.

Drawing so suddenly like that had risks. When he drew from Fife he took a little too much of the colours of her misery. He felt the fear at being held down, helpless. But it came attached to deeply rooted fears to Fife's time on the streets. At the vulnerability of being alone, prey for the gangs that roamed at night. He did not have time to think about what that meant right now.

Raigryn had always worked Misery well. Witch work, some had called it. The right application could change everything.

"Oh fuck you both then!" cried the last bandit standing, one of his friends slowly getting to his feet after Fife's kick. The man flicked his hatchet back over his shoulder ready to swing. The axe head came free. A dull thud rang out as the lump of metal struck the other bandit square in the centre of the head. The one in front was left holding a very short stick.

"Care to fuck off?" Raigryn offered, lifting his sword just enough to make the point.
 
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She watched the men righting themselves, but they didn't yet seem like they were backing down. Whatever they were about, they were determined. Fife didn't understand and felt the confusion turn into a bright sear of frustration. Fife rarely got angry, but she felt Raigryn's anger like a brand.

But she felt the inexplicable draw from her emotions like a drain at the bottom of a washbasin. And even in her inexperience, having never been tapped for Empathy before, she felt him take too much of her Misery from her. The clenching terror around her chest was drawn away. What it left behind wasn't the same as an even calmness, but a lack of either -- a sort of blankness where she only felt the frustration she had taken from him.

She watched with a removed sort of awareness as the man raised his hatchet. She knew the Misery at work when she saw it, the bad luck of the hatchet head popping loose as it was swung back. Fife might have been a little horrified by the sight of the blade splitting a man's head in her right mind, but she was (fortunately) not so at this moment. She blinked, eyes fixed in surprise, but felt an awful satisfaction in it.

That she didn't like.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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The axe head fell to the floor with a dull thud. Raigryn watched the beads of blood trickle down. Much to his surprise the man who had been struck square in the forehead was not dead. He stumbled back away from them in shock, hit the wall and slid to the floor.

"That's going to scar. Mark of stupidity that one," Raigryn observed.

The sword, that he really could barely hold now, was fixed between him and the men. They spat and they groaned and cursed, but two of them grabbed their friend off the floor. He seemed to have almost entirely lost consciousness. The other held Raigryn's gaze for a few seconds that seemed to stretch out. Finally he turned and left.

Raigryn almost immediately fell back onto the bed, leaning some of his weight on the sword. There could be no rest yet, he realised, not yet.

"Got to make sure they don't take the horses."
 
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She didn't think they would ever leave. Fife looked between Raigryn and the fourth man, and she got the distinct feeling of conflict. They had fought hard for nothing. Whatever their purpose for trying to take her, the last was still lingering on the chance that he might yet accomplish it.

But he turned and left, and no sooner had they done so did Raigryn sat heavily on the bed. Hurrying over to him, she frowned deeply as she reached toward him. Her hand hesitated when he spoke, drawing back.

She felt conflicted. Damn those men for whatever this had been. Raigryn looked like sitting upright was the limit of his current physical abilities. She doubted he could stop anyone from actually stealing the horses if they were trying. If they hadn't already. At the same time, she didn't want to consider how expensive it would be to replace them -- not to mention her emotional attachment to them.

Fife shook her head. She could feel the strange absence of fear being blanketed by the easy temper the borrowed Fury cast over all of her emotions at the moment.

But she wasn't entirely helpless. Right? Fife hopped to her feet (yet a little wobbly) and peered out of the door down the hall as she picked up her crossbow. It was clear, which meant they were truly leaving.

For now, at least.

She grabbed her cranequin, the crossbow, and the set of bolts. Fife went to the window and, with a calm hand and a straight face, unhooked the latch and opened the shutters. She wasn't any use in a melee fight, but that wasn't the only way to be useful. She'd be damned if she'd just let them take their horses, but she also wasn't letting Raigryn be entirely foolish.

// Raigryn Vayd //
 
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Raigryn sighed, glad to not be on his feet any longer. He brought his hand up to his head and hissed as he touched the gash. Two fingertips came away in cherry red. Wounds to the head always looked worse than they were.

"Good plan," he sighed. "If any of them go for the barn put a bolt in them. That should dissuade them."

The town the men had come from did not need horses. They couldn't afford to feed them so only had donkeys left. They could barely afford to feed the children they had, but would take more to work the fields and feed them scraps.
 
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Fife nodded. She cranked and loaded the crossbow and set it in the doorframe to keep watch. She did spare a concerned glance back at Raigryn. His head was still bleeding. She resolved to do something about it after she made sure their horses didn't get stolen.

They didn't, and after a while of staring into the dark, she got the feeling that they had gone. Socks would be loud enough to let then know if they thought otherwise.

Fife gently set the bow down, mindful of where she put it but not taking the bolt out of it just in case. She took one look at Raigryn and decided getting him taken care of was a first priority. Frankly, he looked like shit.

She went to their things across the room and, eyeing the hall to be sure they were still alone, grabbed his canteen and a roll of bandages from their bags. On her way back, she spotted her knife. She picked it up, turned it over, cleaned it on her dark trousers, and put it back in her boot.

Fife pointed to his sword and then the wall, a simple request to put it aside. She had been paying a little bit of attention to the dwarf who had tended his wounds after their skirmish with the orcs. If he was constantly skirting danger and death like this, then learning how to best patch him up afterwards seemed like a useful skill. He probably wasn't going to like her much for it, but he also didn't look like he was sturdy enough to refuse the help.

She used her teeth to tear off a portion of the cloth strip and wetted it. With the door in her periphery and her ears alert, she touched the wet cloth to his head. It was immediately stained bright red. Good thing she wasn't squeamish.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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"Press it down hard until it stops bleeding," he told Fife. He grunted and grimaced as the boy followed the instruction. It hurt a lot, but just dabbing it wasn't going to get it to stop.

"That's going to leave a nasty scar unless it gets closed," he muttered. "Now don't judge me for this..." Raigryn said, slightly slurring his words as he reached for the open gash.

He pinched the skin together with his fingers, letting out a soft hiss. It didn't heal up, but a thin green line held the two sides together. A bind made of Malice. The way the world was, an empath had to get creative with the negative sides of their aspects.

He placed his hand on Fife's should, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry about that. I should have been more alert. That dragged up all kinds of fears from your past didn't it?"
 
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She did as she was told, applying more pressure until the bleeding lessened. He pinched it shut and she watched the Aspect hold it closed in the place of stitches. It would have to work, since he clearly didn't have the Charity that would have been required to heal it. Still, she wiped the blood off of his face, more for the sake of his dignity.

He grasped her shoulder firmly and... apologized. Looking at him, she shook her head. It wasn't his fault. She touched her chest, tapped an ear, and gestured it toward the door. I heard them. The last thing she wanted was for him to blame himself. They were supposed to work together.

But she blanched at his question. Fife averted her eyes. How much could he tell from the Misery he had taken? Did his greater experience afford him a greater capability to translate the emotions as they were absorbed to fuel their magic?

But she owed him some kind of answer. Nodding silently, she pulled out of his hand and went to the window to wring out the wet, bloody cloth and check on the stable door. Fife sighed. She was obviously avoiding looking at him as she wetted the rag again and started washing the blood off of her own face. While she was no longer shaking with fear, she was still reluctant to broach this subject. It was still a tender wound she would nurse for an entity.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
"You did hear them and I did not get up quickly enough," Raigryn sighed. He left his questions buried for now. Curiosity had taken him many places, but he did not want to go deeper into Fife's past if it would upset the boy. Those streets were far behind them now.

The room span a little and he had to place a hand firmly on the headboard to stay upright.

"Wedge the chair under the door handle. Just on case they rush back," Raigryn said. He looked down at his nightshirt, great scarlet stains slowly drying down the front. With care he slipped it over his head and then slid naked beneath the sheets.

"I'm going to need to rest my head," he apologised, closing his eyes. He was woozy from the blow to his head, already fighting sleep.

Clumsy, stupid, this was very much his fault. He was supposed to look after the boy, not get caught our by common bandits.
 
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Thankfully, Riagryn wasn't pushing the subject. He let it go, and Fife paused her washing to look at him with a little worry when he swayed. Still, she nodded and went to wedge the chair under the door. Fife gave him the privacy of her back from the window while she washed her face and dabbed at the bloodied shirt. Her bindings beneath were going to be stained, too.

She couldn't respond because he'd already closed his eyes. He was wounded, dizzy and tired. He should rest. Fife, in spite of the dull throbbing where she had been hit and the stiff aches from where hands and arms had constricted her, was wide awake.

Occupying herself, she flipped the mattress on the floor, too sickened by the sight of blood on it. She waited until she was sure Raigryn was keeping his eyes closed before she shed her undershirt and put a tunic on. She adjusted the shutters to allow sight to the barn while keeping them relatively shut so that, when she sat in the chair beside the window to keep watch, she had some cover.

Fife would let him rest, wetting and scrubbing their shirts to get out as much of the blood as she could. It was good busywork that didn't take away from her lookout.

// Raigryn Vayd //​
 
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