This time, Katiel did not wait in the trees outside Kari's house. Yesterday an imp had dived at him... He was expecting far worse tonight if he let the girl alone. He entered the empty house after Kari, not bothering to stop the girl from going to bed. The day had been difficult to say the least... She would need her strength for whatever found them tomorrow. While Kari made herself comfortable in bed, Katiel spent time looking around the house, gun drawn, for potential threats and improvised weapons. There were some good, sharp knives in the kitchen which could come in handy in a pinch. No guns in the house- he hasn't expected there to be, but it was problematic all the same. He had fired his own weapon three times, which meant it had... At most... Seven bullets left in it. He would need to search for something else tomorrow.
He sighed, walking quietly to Kari's room. He sat silently at the foot of her bed. If Kari's mother questioned his presence he would have to think quickly... But he wasn't willing to let Kari sleep alone. There was no telling what would happen if he did.
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"I don't doubt they'll come looking for you, lass. I'm sure your daddy loves you very much. And you're right, the natural place to start a search would be the most densely forested part of the road you were travelling, as it is exactly where people like us have a tendency to set up ambushes. Thing is, what the rookies forget... you know, the sort of amateur thieves who spend half their time pillaging things and the other half shouting impotent threats at men with magic greatswords... is that if you shit where you eat, you're going to get sick real quick." Ronan chuckled slightly. He took a knife from his belt and held it up for Alianor to examine for a moment. Then he came closer, grabbing hold of her roughly and thrusting the knife forward... into the loose-hanging thigh of her dress. He split the fabric on both sides ripping it to give her a little bit more freedom of movement. "We're camped about three miles north of here, cliffside near a river. Relatively sheltered from the storms, and we have fresh water to drink. But I suppose you should hope we do a poor job of covering our tracks, eh?"
The journey back to their camp was difficult. Ronan led the party along a winding trail, thick with crawling roots, hanging vines, and the occasional spider as big as a small dog which a few of the bandits had to quickly put down. They did collect some venom from these encounters however, so it was not entirely without profit. Ronan knew that he was taking far longer than necessary to reach the camp, but he didn't want to take any chances with the new girl - it would be better that she didn't remember how to get back to the road, and his crew were fit enough not to be all too bothered by the hike. Well, Huxley wasn't exactly enjoying himself, but then again Ronan needed the man for his brains and not his physique, so this could be forgiven. Besides, thought Ronan... it was nice to make the pretty lady work. She was certainly not dressed for the journey, even with Ronan's impromptu modifications.
The Black Arrows' camp was encircled by a high wall made of wooden stakes, carved from what could only be whole tree trunks. Ronan was not quite sure how the process went - he knew that ancient armies did something similar through sheer numbers, but his own resources were limited and so he instead had to buy them from a strange wizard who the group occasionally traded with. He seemed to like gems, apparently they worked well for enchanting purposes, and in return he would send shipments of cut wood to them by stone golem. It was a queer arrangement, but it worked. As the group neared the gates, a voice called down to ask who it was. Ronan shouted that the man who asked was an idiot, and this seemed identification enough - the gates soon swung open, and the group rejoined the ten men they had left behind to guard their homes.
The camp itself was... fine. The high cliff face along its northern edge gave it some level of protection and shade, but the buildings were particularly simple. Most of them were more or less wooden tents or yurts, with one particularly large area filled with long tables and benches - presumably a sitting or dining area of some sort - situated beneath a long thatched roof with regular wooden columns holding it up.
"Alright lads, put your spoils wherever. Dun-lane, preserve the horse and get started on tonight's meal. Huxley, you come here." Ronan motioned for his lieutenant, who sidled over, still panting slightly from the journey back, and looked at him expectantly. "I haven't decided what to do with her yet. Some of the lads wanted to have a go on her, but I told them to piss off. I'll be having her sleep near me, so they don't try anything. If one of them does, castrate him and put him on night watch for the next year."
"Yessir." Huxley nodded, hurrying off to make the announcements that the prisoner was not to be touched. Ronan looked wearily at the woman... she might shape up to be more trouble than she was worth.
The journey back to their camp was difficult. Ronan led the party along a winding trail, thick with crawling roots, hanging vines, and the occasional spider as big as a small dog which a few of the bandits had to quickly put down. They did collect some venom from these encounters however, so it was not entirely without profit. Ronan knew that he was taking far longer than necessary to reach the camp, but he didn't want to take any chances with the new girl - it would be better that she didn't remember how to get back to the road, and his crew were fit enough not to be all too bothered by the hike. Well, Huxley wasn't exactly enjoying himself, but then again Ronan needed the man for his brains and not his physique, so this could be forgiven. Besides, thought Ronan... it was nice to make the pretty lady work. She was certainly not dressed for the journey, even with Ronan's impromptu modifications.
The Black Arrows' camp was encircled by a high wall made of wooden stakes, carved from what could only be whole tree trunks. Ronan was not quite sure how the process went - he knew that ancient armies did something similar through sheer numbers, but his own resources were limited and so he instead had to buy them from a strange wizard who the group occasionally traded with. He seemed to like gems, apparently they worked well for enchanting purposes, and in return he would send shipments of cut wood to them by stone golem. It was a queer arrangement, but it worked. As the group neared the gates, a voice called down to ask who it was. Ronan shouted that the man who asked was an idiot, and this seemed identification enough - the gates soon swung open, and the group rejoined the ten men they had left behind to guard their homes.
The camp itself was... fine. The high cliff face along its northern edge gave it some level of protection and shade, but the buildings were particularly simple. Most of them were more or less wooden tents or yurts, with one particularly large area filled with long tables and benches - presumably a sitting or dining area of some sort - situated beneath a long thatched roof with regular wooden columns holding it up.
"Alright lads, put your spoils wherever. Dun-lane, preserve the horse and get started on tonight's meal. Huxley, you come here." Ronan motioned for his lieutenant, who sidled over, still panting slightly from the journey back, and looked at him expectantly. "I haven't decided what to do with her yet. Some of the lads wanted to have a go on her, but I told them to piss off. I'll be having her sleep near me, so they don't try anything. If one of them does, castrate him and put him on night watch for the next year."
"Yessir." Huxley nodded, hurrying off to make the announcements that the prisoner was not to be touched. Ronan looked wearily at the woman... she might shape up to be more trouble than she was worth.
"Or... I could take a third option, and do what I want to do rather than letting a noble sprig dictate terms. Soooo... There's that." Ronan raised his hand in the air, and his companions simultaneously drew their bows. "I wouldn't worry too much: you're worth more in ransoms or as a pet than you are dead. Your guards though are fighting men, and they seem loyal- which is going to cause me problems. So what I suppose I'm trying to say is... 'I'm sorry, but you should probably duck'."
Ronan lowered his hand swiftly, and in perfect time with his movement the twenty-odd bows released. There was a loud clamour, filled with bowstrings twanging, the unmistakable 'stuff' noise that arrows made as they cut through the air, and a large number of fleshy thuds as the thick wooden shafts embedded themselves in the ground, the guards, and Alianor's horse. Ronan looked at the messy scene with a grim distaste, then flicked his wrist in a silent motion for his crew to come and clean them out. The guards had better quality equipment than they did, which would surely come in handy... And let's face it, good horse meat was hard to come by anyway. Ronan barely had time to walk over to Alianor before two eager bandits had set about butchering the fallen animal. He offered a hand to help Alianor to her feet, looking at the noble woman half-pityingly, half-disdainfully.
"It can't be nice, being out in your place like this. But, if you play nice, I'll give you your request- no ropes, no more killing. Come quietly and we'll put a roof over your head, feed you, and keep you safe until we decide what we're going to do with you. Oh, and give your jewels over to my second Huxley."
Ronan lowered his hand swiftly, and in perfect time with his movement the twenty-odd bows released. There was a loud clamour, filled with bowstrings twanging, the unmistakable 'stuff' noise that arrows made as they cut through the air, and a large number of fleshy thuds as the thick wooden shafts embedded themselves in the ground, the guards, and Alianor's horse. Ronan looked at the messy scene with a grim distaste, then flicked his wrist in a silent motion for his crew to come and clean them out. The guards had better quality equipment than they did, which would surely come in handy... And let's face it, good horse meat was hard to come by anyway. Ronan barely had time to walk over to Alianor before two eager bandits had set about butchering the fallen animal. He offered a hand to help Alianor to her feet, looking at the noble woman half-pityingly, half-disdainfully.
"It can't be nice, being out in your place like this. But, if you play nice, I'll give you your request- no ropes, no more killing. Come quietly and we'll put a roof over your head, feed you, and keep you safe until we decide what we're going to do with you. Oh, and give your jewels over to my second Huxley."
"You shall not fear them, for it is the Lord your God who fights for you." Katiel whispered in Kari's ear as she clasped her arms around him, more quotations coming to his mind. It was all he could do, in a situation like this - he barely knew the girl, and so replaced his own words of comfort with words he knew so very well. "It is the Lord who goes before you; he will be with you, he will not fail you or forsake you; do not fear or be dismayed."
Kari was, quite clearly, worn out and in no condition to travel. The bridge they stood on was not in a crowded area, and the occasional passer-by was not so frequent as to make Katiel scared that the two of them would be seen together. He looked at her for a moment sympathetically, before he put his arms around her and held her to him tightly. Katiel was obviously quite strong - though he initially looked somewhat thin, Kari could feel the strength of his arms. A moment later, two great white wings had burst from his back. They shimmered like silver, and loose feathers were shed from them in that first instant like a splash of cool, crystal-clear water across hot sand. It was almost as if the wings were ethereal - they seemed almost not-there, as if the sight of them was simply a trick of the light bounding off an energy field. But they were strong, too, and fit for purpose. Tongues of fire lingered at the spot on the ground where the pair had been standing, Katiel bursting into the sky with immense speed.
He looked down at Kari, wary not to drop her and doing his best to make the trip as comfortable as possible. He soared through the air, back toward Kari's apartment building.
Kari was, quite clearly, worn out and in no condition to travel. The bridge they stood on was not in a crowded area, and the occasional passer-by was not so frequent as to make Katiel scared that the two of them would be seen together. He looked at her for a moment sympathetically, before he put his arms around her and held her to him tightly. Katiel was obviously quite strong - though he initially looked somewhat thin, Kari could feel the strength of his arms. A moment later, two great white wings had burst from his back. They shimmered like silver, and loose feathers were shed from them in that first instant like a splash of cool, crystal-clear water across hot sand. It was almost as if the wings were ethereal - they seemed almost not-there, as if the sight of them was simply a trick of the light bounding off an energy field. But they were strong, too, and fit for purpose. Tongues of fire lingered at the spot on the ground where the pair had been standing, Katiel bursting into the sky with immense speed.
He looked down at Kari, wary not to drop her and doing his best to make the trip as comfortable as possible. He soared through the air, back toward Kari's apartment building.
Katiel was slightly taken aback. He hadn't been expecting this drastic a reaction... then again, humans were strange, fragile things. He looked to the water below - it was freezing cold, and if Kari fell in she would have no hope of swimming away. If the fall didn't break her bones on impact, she'd die of hypothermia pretty quickly... suffice it to say that this was not the outcome Katiel wanted from the situation. The new information Kari had just given him helped put things in perspective, too. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again and began to speak in a slow, clear, authoritative tone.
"I'll try to make this as simple and understandable as I can, because I know it will be a lot for you to take in. My name is Katiel, and I am an angel assigned to act as your guardian until such time as I am told that the threat to your life has passed. The two people who attempted to kill you today were demons - angels, like myself, who chose to rebel against God rather than serve him. They cannot be reasoned with, they cannot be bargained with, they simply wish to see the ultimate destruction of humankind. They have deemed that killing you will bring them one step closer to that goal." Katiel removed his glasses, once more giving Kari the view of his tempestuous, transcendent glowing eyes. "I am part of what is called the ministry of Justice. I was, from my creation, trained to act as a soldier in the heavenly host. The least among the many servants of the almighty."
Katiel's voice shook with passion as he said that final word. He paused for a moment, considering.
"The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown." Katiel began, quoting scripture from memory. He had a good head for this sort of thing. "Nephilim are the offspring of angels and human women. If you say that the demons called you by that name, then that describes your own birth. Demons are foul liars, but there's nothing to gain from them telling you that you are, if you are not. Which makes sense: I could tell there was something special about you."
Katiel offered a hand to Kari, trying to get her to step away from the bridge.
"We shouldn't stay here. There may be more around."
"I'll try to make this as simple and understandable as I can, because I know it will be a lot for you to take in. My name is Katiel, and I am an angel assigned to act as your guardian until such time as I am told that the threat to your life has passed. The two people who attempted to kill you today were demons - angels, like myself, who chose to rebel against God rather than serve him. They cannot be reasoned with, they cannot be bargained with, they simply wish to see the ultimate destruction of humankind. They have deemed that killing you will bring them one step closer to that goal." Katiel removed his glasses, once more giving Kari the view of his tempestuous, transcendent glowing eyes. "I am part of what is called the ministry of Justice. I was, from my creation, trained to act as a soldier in the heavenly host. The least among the many servants of the almighty."
Katiel's voice shook with passion as he said that final word. He paused for a moment, considering.
"The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown." Katiel began, quoting scripture from memory. He had a good head for this sort of thing. "Nephilim are the offspring of angels and human women. If you say that the demons called you by that name, then that describes your own birth. Demons are foul liars, but there's nothing to gain from them telling you that you are, if you are not. Which makes sense: I could tell there was something special about you."
Katiel offered a hand to Kari, trying to get her to step away from the bridge.
"We shouldn't stay here. There may be more around."
You don't necessarily have to kill her mother. That said, her mother being in significant danger might provide the incentive to shoot a demon. Probably be a horribly traumatic thing to do, but she'd get over it eventually. xP
That looks pretty awesome. xD
Yea, no worries. I have it easier in this sort of intense moment cause Katiel's emotionally dead. Or "used to it". Either way. xD
Yea, no worries. I have it easier in this sort of intense moment cause Katiel's emotionally dead. Or "used to it". Either way. xD
Ronan was nudged again by Huxley. He gave the word for his fellow bandits to get ready and waited just a few more seconds for the caravan to get closer. He made sure that his equipment was strapped to his body securely, that his face was in as grizzled a position as he could force it into, and that his teeth had been picked clean. Then, the stage set, he leapt from the tree and landed with an earth 'thud' a couple of metres in front of the noble's caravan, his bow at the ready. He held up a hand for the travellers to halt, and gave them a warm, if slightly intimidating, smile.
"Hold! I say hold, there! I'm terribly sorry to tell you that you've stumbled into unfriendly waters, and you are now presented with a choice." Ronan brandished his bow like a club, pointing to Lady Alianor. "Dear lady - your money, or your life? Which will also lead us to take your money!"
As he rattled of his clichéd catchphrase, the other bandits also emerged from the trees surrounding the group. They were not particularly well-armed, mostly relying on old hunting bows, woodcutting axes and other such improvised weapons, but their numbers were probably a little too much to fight. Huxley was the last one out of the trees- scrambling down rather than jumping, due to a bad knee. He panted slightly as he reached Ronan's side. Ronan ignored him and tried to look menacing. But as Huxley raised his head to look at their latest quarry, he breathed in sharply.
"Ronan - that's Lady Alianor. She's related to the King." he looked quite shocked. "Now we've done it. She'll tell him we're here, you know, and we'll have the heroes burning down the whole bloody forest to find us."
Ronan considered this for a moment.
"Alright - dear lady, I'm sorry to say that the choice you have to make is not the choice you probably chose before. Which is... hold on, what?" Ronan looked mightily confused for a moment, his stumbling speech taking the wind out of the display for just a moment. He then shook his head and continued. "Anyway. Let us tie you up and take you back with us, or I'll have to put arrows in you and your fellas here."
"Hold! I say hold, there! I'm terribly sorry to tell you that you've stumbled into unfriendly waters, and you are now presented with a choice." Ronan brandished his bow like a club, pointing to Lady Alianor. "Dear lady - your money, or your life? Which will also lead us to take your money!"
As he rattled of his clichéd catchphrase, the other bandits also emerged from the trees surrounding the group. They were not particularly well-armed, mostly relying on old hunting bows, woodcutting axes and other such improvised weapons, but their numbers were probably a little too much to fight. Huxley was the last one out of the trees- scrambling down rather than jumping, due to a bad knee. He panted slightly as he reached Ronan's side. Ronan ignored him and tried to look menacing. But as Huxley raised his head to look at their latest quarry, he breathed in sharply.
"Ronan - that's Lady Alianor. She's related to the King." he looked quite shocked. "Now we've done it. She'll tell him we're here, you know, and we'll have the heroes burning down the whole bloody forest to find us."
Ronan considered this for a moment.
"Alright - dear lady, I'm sorry to say that the choice you have to make is not the choice you probably chose before. Which is... hold on, what?" Ronan looked mightily confused for a moment, his stumbling speech taking the wind out of the display for just a moment. He then shook his head and continued. "Anyway. Let us tie you up and take you back with us, or I'll have to put arrows in you and your fellas here."
Ronan held the woman close in his arms. She was beautiful, like the purest image one had ever seen in a noble portrait gallery. Her hair was soft as spun silk, flowing about her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Her eyes were flaming jewels, her lips a pure red cherry upon the white-frosted cake of her snowy, perfect complexion. His eyes were filled with tears as he held her in a passionate embrace, pulling her close, his lips so very close to hers that he could feel her breath upon his stubbly muzzle.
Then a heavy blow to his chest from a leather-gloved hand made him start awake. He shouted aloud, jumping immediately to his feet with a cry of rage. "Oi! That was a damn good dream - which one of you scumbags woke me up!?" he yelled, glaring around furiously. The group, sitting amongst the many branches of a huge old tree... or perhaps a lazy ent, one could never be sure... looked at him and shrugged. Eventually Ronan's eyes settled on Huxley, a portly man who nevertheless could be trusted with his keen senses to give advanced warning of any quarry that came by. He sighed slightly. "What is it, Hux?"
"Noble lady, sir - jewels and all. Not much security on her, roads are so safe these days that they're barely bothering to have more than a couple guards when they travel."
Ronan's eyes lit up, and he scrambled to his feet before adopting a more stable perch upon the thick branch, which would allow him to get at his weapon without toppling out of the thick canopy. He grinned madly, an arrow knocked and the bow ready to draw at any moment.
"Alright boys, quiet - let's wait for the lady to come by, then take her stuff nice and easy..."
Then a heavy blow to his chest from a leather-gloved hand made him start awake. He shouted aloud, jumping immediately to his feet with a cry of rage. "Oi! That was a damn good dream - which one of you scumbags woke me up!?" he yelled, glaring around furiously. The group, sitting amongst the many branches of a huge old tree... or perhaps a lazy ent, one could never be sure... looked at him and shrugged. Eventually Ronan's eyes settled on Huxley, a portly man who nevertheless could be trusted with his keen senses to give advanced warning of any quarry that came by. He sighed slightly. "What is it, Hux?"
"Noble lady, sir - jewels and all. Not much security on her, roads are so safe these days that they're barely bothering to have more than a couple guards when they travel."
Ronan's eyes lit up, and he scrambled to his feet before adopting a more stable perch upon the thick branch, which would allow him to get at his weapon without toppling out of the thick canopy. He grinned madly, an arrow knocked and the bow ready to draw at any moment.
"Alright boys, quiet - let's wait for the lady to come by, then take her stuff nice and easy..."
--Character Sheet--
Ronan "Black Arrow" Briggs
Ronan was a career soldier, from a family of the same. He was trained by his father, a great general, from the age of twelve to be a keen fighter and a clever tactician. At the age of sixteen Ronan was fighting among the ranks of the royal army, and by the age of twenty-five he was part of the King's Guard, an elite fighting force dedicated to the protection of the crown. However on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, everything changed for him - the Dark Lord of the north was cut down by a sprog of a boy, barely eighteen, who had been chosen by fate to save the land. What utter rot, he thought. From that moment Ronan saw himself becoming increasingly redundant - the King's guard was replaced by a small core of ten or so heroes, blessed by fate, magic and God himself with the uncanny knack for solving any problem so long as someone called it a 'quest'. Soon after, the militant church orders and the paladins they had been training for years beat back the undead on the southern border.
The kingdom was at peace, and Ronan hated every second of it. He was not a particularly eloquent man, nor a great scholar, nor could he build much with his hands. Ronan knew how to fight, and knew how to win, but that was all. So he took to the forests, hunting, along with fifty or so of his close friends among the King's Guard. Soon they found that the deer and rabbits couldn't sustain them - they needed something more. Money, at least, for supplies and resources to build shelters. So in a moment of desperation they robbed a merchant caravan that had become lost in the woods. The money paid for a roof over their heads for when the rain came... and Ronan found his new calling in life, as the leader of the Black Arrow Bandits.
Ronan "Black Arrow" Briggs
Ronan was a career soldier, from a family of the same. He was trained by his father, a great general, from the age of twelve to be a keen fighter and a clever tactician. At the age of sixteen Ronan was fighting among the ranks of the royal army, and by the age of twenty-five he was part of the King's Guard, an elite fighting force dedicated to the protection of the crown. However on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, everything changed for him - the Dark Lord of the north was cut down by a sprog of a boy, barely eighteen, who had been chosen by fate to save the land. What utter rot, he thought. From that moment Ronan saw himself becoming increasingly redundant - the King's guard was replaced by a small core of ten or so heroes, blessed by fate, magic and God himself with the uncanny knack for solving any problem so long as someone called it a 'quest'. Soon after, the militant church orders and the paladins they had been training for years beat back the undead on the southern border.
The kingdom was at peace, and Ronan hated every second of it. He was not a particularly eloquent man, nor a great scholar, nor could he build much with his hands. Ronan knew how to fight, and knew how to win, but that was all. So he took to the forests, hunting, along with fifty or so of his close friends among the King's Guard. Soon they found that the deer and rabbits couldn't sustain them - they needed something more. Money, at least, for supplies and resources to build shelters. So in a moment of desperation they robbed a merchant caravan that had become lost in the woods. The money paid for a roof over their heads for when the rain came... and Ronan found his new calling in life, as the leader of the Black Arrow Bandits.
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