Jump to content



Let's have some fun (attn : Masan)


Recommended Posts

Fang took a deep breath as the outlines of a small town appeared in front of her.


At last, she said.


It was not that she wanted to meet people. Dirt covered every inch of her skin and she was so stinky that she would have prefered to stay all by herself. What she wanted – needed even - was to sleep for one night at least in a real bed and to fill her stomach with warm food. She had caught herself thinking about going back to Tear twice already, and she hadn’t liked it. No, I won’t go back to this flaming place ever AGAIN ! The thought resonated in her head.


She knew that somewhere in this little town was an inn. She had met a peddler two days before who had told her so. The man had been scared by her scruffy appearance until she had started to talk. Then, after hearing her accent and her haugthy tone, he had smiled. Had he taken pity on her ? She hoped not. She was not supposed to inspire pity ! This fool was lucky … if he hadn’t been that helpful I would have kicked him in the nuts ! The young girl tightened her fists as she pictured the alternative scene in her mind. Then she spat on the ground in a very un-lady-like way.


Before moving further she took the time to clean her face with what was left in the small water skin that hung at her belt. It was barely enough to make her look presentable, especially since her hair was  mess. It looked like black straw covered with dark cobwebs. To improve her appearance, she quickly gathered all the loose strands in a bun that she tied down at the base of her neck. She would have liked to keep her hair loose, but here without a comb she felt like she had no other choice.


The town itself was very quiet. It was the middle of the afternoon and Fang guessed that most of its inhabitants were working indoors or in the fields. She only met a dog and a young boy before arriving in front of the inn. The Golden Key, it was called. Those who couldn’t read wouldn’t miss its name since a big key had been painted in a mustardy color on a wooden plank that had been attached to the facade of the small building.


The interior of the inn was almost as quiet as its exterior. There were only two patrons that Fang could see and the innkeeper. The man was easily recognizable : he had a dirty apron around his fat waist and was cleaning mugs. Just like the two other occupants of the room he had raised his head as soon as Fang had pushed the door and wrinkled his nose when she had stepped inside.


What can I do for ye ? The innkeeper asked, lowering the mug and the towel.


I am… Elzada Thierin, Fang started. I am a traveler and I was attacked. She made a short pause and sniffled. There was a whole tale ready she had been repeating for hours but she needed to be convincing. Just like with the peddler, her way to talk with her nose high up in the air helped, almost as much as the beautiful silver rings she had put on her fingers before entering the village.


I have walked in the nearby woods for so many days, then I found a merchant who told me to come here…


She allowed tears to glide from her tears.


As expected the innkeeper looked embarrassed. He rubbed his bald head with one of his plump hands. Don’t cry, lass. Here, have a seat, he said pointing towards one of the remotest tables from the entrance.


Fang walked towards it hesitantly, as if in fear. When she judged herself close enough to the place that had been indicated by the innkeeper, she picked a chair to sit on. Soon, the innkeeper arrived with a fresh towel and a bowl of water. I am so hungry she told him, and tired !


Here, to clean yourself, lass.


Fang dipped a corner of the cloth in the bowl  then rubbed it against her cheek.


I am sorry to ask you, lass… But do ye have money ? The innkeeper asked, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He looked pretty much annoyed by the whole situation. I can’t make a habit of giving out food or beds for free…   he added mumbling. Me wife’s gonna have me hide if I do so…


A habit ? Fang forgot about her acting for a fraction of a second. A habit ? Does that mean that he did that already ? If so, I may be able to convince to do it again.

Quick as a viper, her brains tried to find the best questions to ask. She didn’t want to have the innkeeper offering her to sleep in the straw nor did she want to have him giving her a piece of stale bread. She wanted the best possible accommodations.


Hoping it would push the innkeeper to talk, she went on crying, louder this time.


C’mon, don’t cry… The innkeeper tried. There’s that lad who came here earlier this morning. I offered him food and a room for one night if he would take care of a job … I …


Maybe I can be of help ? The girl asked, still focusing on her acting.


I dunno, lass. Maybe the best is to find him and to talk to him, aright ? One thing is sure, I can only  offer the bed and the food to one person. Me wife will come back from the nearby town tonight and I don’t wanna make her angry.


Thank you, dear sir. Fang replied, innerly slapping herself. The man had noticed her rings… and he clearly saw them more as a sign of payement than as a proof of a certain station.


Before going back to his mug-cleaning, he gave Fang an encourage pat on the shoulder and told her were to find that mysterious « lad ».

Edited by Hayl3y
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 86
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

Masan rubbed his calloused fingers over the velveteen fuzz on Boko's nose as finished securing her feed bag. He smiled warmly. Master Neril was kind enough to offer him a bed and food if he came back with proof that the brigands harassing their town were tended to, but he'd made it very clear that while he was both the mayor and the innkeeper of this small village it seemed like his wife had the final authority over all. Master Neril stated that he could spare the bed and meal as payment, but the Mistress would skin him alive if stabling and feed was also paid.


Masan had willingly handed over the fist full of silver pennies for Boko's needs. The horse deserved to sleep in a proper stable and have good oats for a change. Masan would happily spend money on his horse that he was not willing to spend on himself.


He'd get his recompense. Neril had asked to have the bandits stop harassing the town but he did NOT say that any coin found in the bandit's hide out had to be returned. On his honor he would complete the task asked of him, but he was not honor bound to hand over anything he found unless specifically asked for it. He grinned to himself a bit at his own cleverness as he gave Boko a rub down.


Yes this would go quite bloody well. If he was lucky he'd end the day with a little more coin than what he spent on Boko and it would sustain him til the next town where he could buy some supplies that he couldn't scavenge for in the wild. Like a new bloody pot. Blood and bloody ashes he missed tea.


my scribbles are a little ahead of the game! Lol



Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fang knew she couldn’t get out of the inn too fast. She had to stay in character, weak, tired, teary. It was only when the innkeeper disappeared in the kitchen that she allowed herself to move. The two other patrons didn’t seem to be interested in her or her whereabouts. Sitting very far apart from each other, it looked like they wanted to be alone, like they needed time for themselves … and their drinks.


To the stables, then, the girl thought before sighing. She had never liked horses except for that mare she had had in the past, back in Tear. A very lovely animal that her father had sold when he had judged her too old for his daughter. He had replaced her, of course, by a better looking mount.  A fiery stallion called Dash … 


It had been the meanest beast Fang had ever seen. Not only did he have a foul temper, but he was also very found of biting. After one too many injuries, Fang had decided to abandon horse riding and had kept away from the stables.


She easily found the « lad ». The innkeeper’s description had been quite good and the stables were empty except for him and his horse.


Slowly, she advanced towards her target, hoping to hear something that useful. Would he fall for her damsel in distress act ? It was hard to tell. On another hand, it was hard for her to keep on acting as if she was a broken doll. Especially since she wanted to tackle the « lad », punch him on the nose and bind him with a rope to prevent him for doing that « job »  he was supposed to take care of for the innkeeper. The problem was that Fang didn’t know what that job was.


Unfortunately, she didn’t discover anything useful. Silently cursing, she made one more step forward closing the distance between her and the young man. Then, she grabbed one of her daggers and pointed it straight towards his kidneys.


"You and I, we need to talk", she started with a commanding voice.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan didn't bother shifting when he heard the soft footfalls behind him, sliding through the straw. He was no Aiel, but he was plenty alert enough to hear someone shifting around in the quiet stable. He didn't really expect the flaming knife pointed at his back, but he also wasn't generally jumpy or skiddish. He'd had blades pointed at him before after all and it was best to react calmly. He continued patting Boko's nose to keep the horse from becoming protective of him. 


She could be as sweet and mild as dandelion milk, but she was still of Borderland stock. Even pack horses in the Borderlands could make halfway decent war horses here in the south what with their being bloody fearless and all. Being raised to be rode into battle against trollocs likely helped a bit in Boko's case. She was a sweetheart, but she was awfully protective of him and the last thing he needed was for her to start tossing her head and scaring the woman with the knife behind him.


Masan gently shushed to Boko, easing her and keeping her relaxed as he responded to his would be assailant. "And what might that be about Little Miss?" He asked, conversationally. He kept his voice as infuriatingly neutral as though he was asking for the time of day. "If you're looking for coin, can't say I have any left. It's all wrapped up in horse feed and a night or two of stabling for my girl here." Okay, so maybe that was a little white lie. He had a very small amount of coin left, it had just been left in Master Neril's protection behind the inn's counter but there was no reason for this little tuffet to know about it.


He wasn't about to say Boko's flaming name out loud. What if this woman was a horse thief? He didn't want her to be able to call Boko's name and get her to follow along. Though, clearly, if she were she was by far the worst horse thief Masan had ever encountered. Horse thieves were supposed to sneakily make off with your bloody horse when you weren't looking. Not mug you for it. "If it's food." He continued, patting a pouch on the saddle draped across the stall door, "I'll share what I have, but I'm afraid all I've got to spare right now is some hard bread and even harder cheese. You're welcome to that. But if it's a pleasant chat you're willing to have, maybe put the knife back. I'm not too slow with mine and you have to wonder, is a mouthful of stale bread and a bag of oats for a horse really worth having the town watch on you?" He asked, peering over his shoulder and making sure to give the little lady one of his better, winning smiles. 


He wanted her to have no doubts when she looked into his face and saw that he was not afraid of her. Oh sure, she could probably kill him if she really, really wanted to. But it would be stupid. She'd not find any coin, and what she could make off with wouldn't be worth the bloodying she would take from him before he died, or having the village watch after her. One might say, But Masan, you'll be bloody dead? What do you care? And they would be flaming right, but Masan had long ago embraced his death about two years back. On top of that, it'd been about a year since he'd discovered he could channel. (He'd only just recently stopped shuddering at the thought.) Madness and Death was his inevitable future. Well. To be bloody fair. Death was everyone's inevitable future. One could only hope to have shifted a bloody mountain before taking on that feather. 


If he died here and now, Baun would be there to welcome him into the mother's last embrace. Baun, being older, always went ahead of him it seemed. He wasn't supposed to have gone ahead in this so soon but there was nothing to be done. Baun had found his peace. Masan would join him again one day. Preferably not today. He'd like to kill more Shadowspawn before he got there if this little girl would permit it.


"So." He finished, shifting slowly and quietly slipping his belt knife free where she couldn't see. "What's it going to be Little Miss?" His eyes twinkled as the silver bells on his braids (one set on his right looked relatively new, but the bells on his left were tarnished and at lease several years old) tinkled. The amicable grin split his face once more. Time to see how smart of a girl she was.

Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The young man’s face had surprised Fang, almost as much as the grin he was now wearing.


She had not expected a face like his. From what the innkeeper had said, she had pictured the  “lad” as someone quite goofy and easy to scare. Unfortunately the Arafellin who was standing in front of her was very far from that portrait. There was strength in him, it was easy to read it in his eyes. And on top of it, he didn’t seem the least bit frightened by her. He even sounded playful ! “Little miss,” he had called her… twice ! As if she was little, or a miss. The image of the servants at her father’s manor flashed through her mind. The painful memories angered her even further.


“I am not scared of you nor of your knife”, she said, pointing her chin toward the young man. As she lowered her dagger, she reviewed a couple of possible scenarios in her mind. In the end, she had to conclude that threatening the stranger wouldn't get her anything. She needed to convince him to help her. It would he hard, especially since her move with her dagger had not worked.


Her eyes moved from the young man to his horse. So far, he had acted as the animal was just another mount, but she was sure there was more to it than that. With her gaze she swept the animal from its flank, to his head, then back to his flank again.  As she did so she felt the Arafellin looking at her. Mmmh, she thought. You like your horse, lad? I'll keep that in mind.


“That job the innkeeper gave you”, she started. “He said we have to do it together. He also told me that the sooner we take care of it, the better.”


She mentally crossed her fingers hoping that the young man would not want to go back to the innkeeper to check whether or not she was telling the truth. It would be a childish move, but she didn’t know what the expect from him.


Hoping it would make the young man react faster, she didn’t leave him the time to comment on her words. She immediately added “So, are you ready?”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan finally turned, sliding his own belt knife into its sheath, when she put her own away. She was bold, that was for sure.


As she described directions she supposedly received from Master Neril he crossed his arms and leaned slightly against the wall of the horse stall, looking down on her with narrowed eyes. Masan was, after all, a relatively tall man and so it wasn't hard to project looming even when he was leaning. Intimidation, even subtle, could be useful on the battlefield. If you made someone facing you hesitate for even a second it may give you the upper hand needed to survive the confrontation. This likely wasn't the case with Little Miss.


Oh, it was clear she had fire and lightening in her spirit, but how she carried herself and the fancy rings she wore let him know that she was likely born slightly higher than her current circumstances. She probably had several knives on her but she didn't look as if she'd ever worn a sword let alone trained with one.


Masan's scowl deepened as she continued. Could she be lying? It was a possibility. But Neril, despite being pleasant, was clearly a shrewed, cheap man. Sure, maybe his wife was more so but it clearly didn't hurt his feelings to use her as a convenient excuse. If Neril did want her to assist him he would have to benefit from it in some way. Neril was benefitting from giving Masan the job because Masan was still paying for Boko's needs as well as clearing out the bandits. What did he stand to gain from making Masan take the girl with him? Bloody hell, he may as well ask.


"How does Neril benefit from sending you with me?" He asked, quirking a brow at her. "What are you paying for because I'd bet my boot he isn't going to give each of us a room and bath for the same job. If he's planning on splitting my reward with you he must think he has something coming for it."


If there was only one room at the end of this he'd play Raven, River, Rock for that bed fair and square but he would not even chance it with the bath. If they were only permitted one tub of hot water he deserved first cracks when it was at its hottest and cleanest. He would not soak in the filth caked all over her in luke warm water. No bloody way. No bloody flaming way would that be happening!


"If Neril told you that you could kick me out of my recompense you've got another thing coming. You're not getting the best cut if I'm doing most the work, and let's be honest, that'll be me. Your throwing knives will only be useful for a few seconds if at all. Once the fighting is close quarters it's going to be me and my swords and my hide earning that reward. So, why do I need you? Why shouldn't I just paddle your bottom and drag you back to your mother by your ear?" He demanded. He really saw her as younger than she was, possibly a local tomboy ragga muffin with aspirations of being a hunter for the horn. He'd never had a little sister but he had a feeling that if he had she probably would have been as foul tempered as this little mud pie. He was not about to drag a kid into a bandit nest! He didn't want to have to watch two backs! Frankly the sheer effort of not cussing in front of her was straining enough that it should be giving him a nosebleed!

Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Neril told me to keep an eye on you", Fang replied, arms crossed. She eyed the "lad" from head to toe as trying to judge his capabilities. "He want to be sure that you'll do your part and that you won't try to con him."


She waited for her words to sink in. The young man seemed to have a quick mind, but she was sure she was smarter than him. The questions he had asked where the sign that he was not acting only from the goodness of his heart. Maybe, he was planning on conning the innkeeper, who knew?


"And for the record, I am paying him nothing." She punctuated her sentence with a grin hoping that the "lad" would feel that she had been honest on that last part.


The sun was already quite far from its zenith. She didn't know how long the "mission" would last but there were only a couple of hours to go before dinner. If they wanted to be back to eat and get a bed before twilight, they'd have to hurry... whatever the task they'd have to perform.


"We are wasting daylight..." she added with a neutral voice. "But, if you want to stay here, it's all fine for me."


In a flash, she detached one of her "real" throwing knife from her belt and hurled towards one of the walls of the stables. It planted itself on a fat spider, making it a perfect show of her skills.


"Me, ... " she said as she went to get her weapon. "I'll be on my way, to get the job done."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Bloody mother's milk in a flaming cup!" Masan cursed harshly under his breath. Of bloody course Neril, that shrewd negotiator, wouldn't just put his faith in a stranger. Of course he would do this. Divide up the spoils with one person doing the job and the other person's job was only to keep an eye on him. It would mean he'd have to be shrewd himself about pocketing any of the brigand's loot to avoid this little mud pie watching him.


Very quickly he thought up a contingency plan. "Alright then. I don't suppose Neril gave you a horse to ride for the job did he?" He asked, turning to get Boko ready. At a look at her face paling beneath the dust he nodded. "Okay so we'll have to leave now if we're going to be on foot. Boko's coming to carry some things. I'm not leaving her here alone besides." She lazily turned her head towards Fang as Masan threw the saddle over her back and tightened the girth straps.


"Alright, so this is the plan Little Miss." Masan began as he checked over the other straps. "When we get to the bandit's hideout, I'm going to have you, with your handy little knifes, take care of anyone outside from a distance, as well as stay with Boko a little from the location. Once you've taken care of the immediate guards you'll be standing sentry and taking out anyone who comes patroling. I'll be entering the hideout and taking care of everyone inside. It'll be hard for you to throw and aim well in the chaos of a cramped space. You'll make sure no one sneaks in behind me. When I give the all clear you can come in and inspect my work so Master Neril gets his proof. Everyone makes reasonable use of their skills and it offers the most danger to the bandits and the least danger to us. Sound fair?" Masan asked, leading the horse out of the stall. 


Boko snorted in Fang's general direction and stamped her hooves slightly, protective of her human, who began whispering to her and patting her nose as he lead her towards the door, now putting the Little Miss in the position to follow. 



Sorry this is both late and short. I was feeling terrible yesterday and plot wise Masan needs to get them on the road.


Link to comment
Share on other sites




OOC : it would be weird to make long posts since Masan and Fang are having a conversation :)

If you need to improve your posts afterwards (= add words or so) do not hesitate to do so !

Also I hope you are feeling better today *hugs*






Fang tried not to react to the lad's words. She wasn't happy to hear that his horse would accompany them. Boko, what is this for a flaming name? She wondered, still feeling anger tightening her heart. Deep down she knew she was being unfair. The poor animal had done nothing wrong to her. Unlike its master... who was clearly unnerving.


The presence of his mount was bad news though: she'd have to be careful, if she wanted to get rid of the Arafelin. What if he'd jump on the back of his horse and raced back to the inn before her? What if Boko was one of those horses who lived to protect its master? She'd have to pay attention to the way they interacted with each other. 


The young man threw the saddle on the horse's back and tightened the girth straps, showing that he was ready to go. Still, Fang wasn't satisfied. She sighed, showing that she wanted them to hurry even more. Unfortunately, it didn't have any effect. The lad didn't improve the speed of his gestures.


"Alright," he said. "So, this is the plan..."


At last, he told Fang about the mysterious mission. They had to take care of bandits ! The girl almost squeaked in delight. It didn't matter that she was hungry or tired, she would see some action. She had been craving for something similar for so long. Her mind going in a thousand directions, she listened to the young man's instructions with only half an ear. He wanted her stay outside of the hideout with his horse, while he'd take care of the bad guys inside.


Riiiiight, she commented to herself. As if I am going to let you have all the fun !


She didn't voice her protests though. It was not the time nor the place to antagonize him further.


The horse snorted and stamped her hooves as if it wanted to show that it was ready to protect her master. For a second, Fang feared that the horse could read her thoughts.


"Fine", she said at last. "But if you want to keep your pretty teeth, you should start calling me Fang. That's my name, lad!"

Edited by Chaelca
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan's barked a laugh as he led Boko out onto the street. 


"No." He shook his head. "No it's not. No mother drops a baby and says; 'Oh look at my lovely little girl, I will name her Fang.'" He teased, using a mock, high pitch voice while speaking for the imaginary woman. However it didn't seem something he could maintain for long as he dropped into his deeper, natural octave while saying 'Fang.' 


"But, if we're playing Secret Names than I suppose you could call me..." He trailed off, looking around about him. "Uuuuuuuuuuum... Soldier." He shrugged lamely. Clearly he'd been having fun with it until he couldn't think of anything good so he just spat out one of the first things people saw when they looked at him. It wasn't an impressive leap of logic. Even though he clearly wasn't with any bands, the man had evidently trained for one specific job.


"Actually, I decided I don't want to play. I'm just Masan. Did you pick Fang because it sounds intimidating or is it close to your given name? You don't have to share, I was just curious." He continued. slowing Boko a bit so the shorter girl could catch up and walk on the other side of the horse. Boko was currently burdened only with Masan's saddle bags. He wasn't going to tire her out by riding her there in the event they needed to beat a hasty retreat. Especially knowing, now, that she would have to bear two riders (even if one was a tiny thing.) As irritating as the situation was, and as much as he didn't want her to catch him nicking loot, he wouldn't leave a young girl to the mercy of whatever bandits may accidentally survive him. The other things tested his honor, but to abandon someone like that would completely dishonor him.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fang hesitated. She wanted to react to his comments about her name but knew it would be counter productive. The lad's mocking had only lasted for a couple of seconds. Then, Masan - since that was his name - had started acting more seriously.


The topic of her family was a dangerous one, and she needed them to stay away from it... What if he knew her father? What if he had heard that he was looking for her? The fear of getting caught flashed through her mind. At once, her anger disappeared to be replaced by something else. A mixture of extreme caution and readiness to run away if necessary.


"I am not playing," she answered. "I am Fang... and that's all there is to know about it ... "


She grabbed a fern leaf that was high enough to reach her finger tips and started to tear it apart bit by bit to fill in the silence.


Even if her companion's horse was between them, she noticed that Masan was adapting his pace for her. It made her wonder why he would do such a thing. She had enough reserves to walk faster but she didn't want to use all her energy. She needed it if she wanted to execute her plan. Still, she didn't like the idea of the lad taking her for someone weak who couldn't move fast enough.


Trying to push him away from her thoughts, she concentrated on the path ahead. During her past life, she had rarely walked into a forest. The first hours, days, she had spent among the trees, after her escape had been pretty hard. But, now I am doing way better, she commented to herself. It took me a while but I am not tripping on branches anymore!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

All was as silent as a wood could be as Masan led Boko and 'Fang' light that was such a horrible name. The only noises were that of the native creatures and Boko's hooves as she trod lazily through the woods beside him. One might think her a lazy plow horse but she was wonderfully deceptive.


There was really no point in making conversation with the sulky girl and so he occupied himself with making contingency plans, which, he was certain that the larger quantity of them would be ridiculous and unnecessary. But whatever. 


The sun was just kissing the horizon when they got close enough to the bandit camp where it was just noticeable from a distance. "Okay, let's just go over the flaming plan one more time. I'm going to tie Boko here. We're both going to scout the blasted hideout. You use your throwing knives to take out the guards and give me the freedom to kick down the door and take out whoever's inside. Once I'm in the hideout I want you to rush back here for Boko and lead her up. Keep your daggers handy in case you encounter anyone patrolling on your way back. I should have the hide out cleared out by then so you can inspect my work and we can get the bloody flaming light out of here!" Masan emphasized. He was not in this for pleasure or glory anymore. He just wants to be in, wreak some mayhem, and leave without any fanfare or drama. He wasn't as excited for this as Fang seemed and that was a dangerous mentality to have. (But, in the girl's defense, he was also that stupid a few years ago so he probably couldn't blame her either. 


"You did listen this time right? You barely paid attention back in the stables." He would not have her over-eagerness make a pig's - ear out of this job.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fang nodded. The plan was very easy to follow but she refused to admit that Masan had done a good job at dividing the tasks. He had called her Little Miss ... twice...  and never... NEVER ... she would tell him something nice.


"You did listen this time right? You barely paid attention back in the stables," he asked her.


"I listened, just like I did back in the stables," she replied raising an eyebrow. "There's nothing complicated about your plan."


Quickly, she checked the places where she had hidden blades. Everything was in place. Now, let's have some fun! She told herself.


The Arafellin tied his horse to one of the nearby trees. He patted it on the back and seemed to whisper something to it. At the sight, Fang rolled her eyes. As if the horse will listen to what he says...

She knew she was not very fair with her comment but she didn't want to feel any kind of sympathy for the lad. How would she be able to betray him otherwise?


Then, they left to do the scouting. The "hideout" was a small cave half hidden by bushes. There were two men guarding it a few paces from the entrance, and no way to know how many people were inside.


The good news was that there was no patrols. The bandits hadn't deemed necessary to have one checking out the cave surroundings.


"So, how do you want to play it?" Fang whispered with a grin on her face.

"If we make noise while taking out these two, we may end up in serious trouble..."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Hm, that's a good point." Masan mused, scratching at his smooth shaven chin. His brows furrowed and he glared into the distance at the hideout while deep in thought for a moment. He could be rather intense looking, when really all he was doing was making the wheels click and turn in his head.


Suddenly he grinned wolfishly and put a conspiratorial arm around Fang's shoulder and whispered, "Alright. So I have an idea. Get yourself into a position where you have a clear shot, but no one is going to spot you. I'm going to sneak around the side a little, where they won't see me coming up. You'll see a small spark of light and that will be your sign from me to unleash bloody death from the flaming shadows on those two misbegotten sons of goats. They'll be so taken by surprise that any sound they make won't give those flaming pig spleens inside enough time to react before I kick down the door and take my sword to them." He grinned broadly.


"It will be quick. It will be brutal. It will be devastating and we'll come out of it all the better. Think you can see a flicker of light from this far away? About the size of a candle?" He asked. "With aim like yours I could trust your vision, but you know your abilities better than me. Is it within your sight and throwing range?" He asked, indicating the shaded spot at the side of the entrance that would hide him from the sight of the guards where he intended to place himself.


Masan wasn't about to let her know that he was going to try to make that flicker of light with the One Power. No one needed to know THAT. After that awful fever a couple months back he'd figured this much out on his own. It didn't always work. Sometimes he couldn't even touch the Source if his hand wasn't firmly wrapped around his sword. But it was safely on his back and he'd be able to grip the hilt and make the spark for her to see. He was pretty sure he could do that one trick with regular consistency now.





Masan! Mis bebe! You're so cute. I loved making sure he had freckle on his face. I'm going to add them to his look in canon.




FANG! Why'd you blink! You bloody problem child!




I just loved this one. I was picking out a Formal dress for her and she just did this little hissy pose and it's just too cute.


Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fang's eyes shifted from the brigands' hideout to Masan's freckled face.


His words had surprised her but in a good way. "It will be quick. It will be brutal. It will be devastating..." he had promised. And it had made her grin. There was something serious in his eyes, It made Fang wonder. Maybe he's a true soldier ... That's how he introduced himself at first after all.


Focusing on the Arafellin's words, her heart started to bounce when he complimented her aim. Still, she fought to her face neutral. She didn't want her companion to know how many points his last sentences had earned him.


"The size of a candle, you said ... It won't be a problem." She said, not waiting for Masan's reaction. "I'll take care of them, both. The silly mules don't know how to protect themselves with good armour it seems."


Indeed, the two brutes only wore leather jerkins with necks way too wide to be of real use. Their legs weren't much more shielded. They had shinguards, true... but that was everything they had besides their linen pants and short boots.


They don't even have helmets ! She chuckled.


"Alright, let's do this," she said.


Moving as silently as she could she moved towards a big tree that was close enough to the bandits while, at the same time, offering enough cover.


C'mon Masan... don't screw this....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan pressed his index finger to his lips one last time to remind Fang of the need for absolute silence and then started to slowly shift to the east, the side of the forest already darkening and filling with shadows. He tried to keep the sounds of his movements as small as possible,despite it being clear that the guards were LOOK-OUTS not LISTEN-OUTS.


Brigands sometimes were made up of men who just didn't make the cut as soldiers. Men who couldn't work as a team or felt they could make more coin with dishonest work. It's not like Masan was much better, he acknowledged, but he reasoned it to himself that a job like this was worth more than the value of that cramped little room, a meal, and a bath. The coin he would loot from some bad people would see him to Tear where he could get in touch with the Dragon's men, get pointed to the Black Tower and be forged into a weapon to rend asunder the forces of the Dark One. He was only doing something a little objectable to facilitate the greater good.


Masan slunk quietly to the shadowed alcove beside the guards and got to work. Channeling was still a bit of a task and required more focus than nearly anything else he'd ever done.


Masan envisioned a blacksmith's fire, red and consuming into which he threw all of his frustrations and impatience. Grief, desire, regret. All was consumed by the forge, leaving him like steel; hard and devoid of emotion. He gripped the hilt of his sword, but did not begin to draw. He didn't want the gaurds to hear the hiss of steel leaving it's scabbard. He just needed the hilt to cling to as Saidin twinkled just beyond his perception. He'd learned already that he couldn't be ginger with the Source. He had to snatched hold of the raging torrent of ice and fire and oil slick filth. Masan was nearly certain that if he didn't hold tight to his hilt the force of it would blow him away. It was disgusting but so sweet. He was so in tune with the world around him even as the taint sickened him.


Masan'd figured out that if he wove what he guessed to be fire and air just so he could hold a flickering flame suspended for a few seconds. He held his breath and hoped he'd been able to hold it long enough for Fang to see. He waited patiently hoping to hear the sound of her knives whizzing by and biting flesh.

Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

And there, it appeared at last. A flickering flame, a bit bigger than the one produced by a candle. Without thinking, Fang rolled on the left side of the tree and threw the knife she had in her right hand, aiming it to the bulkiest bandit.




Since checking the result of her throw would make her lose precious seconds, she immediately grabbed the other knife she had had kept between her teeth and threw it to the other man. He had made a step towards his companion, as she had expected.




The second man dropped almost as silently as the first one had. The blood pulsing from his throat made her grin proudly.


Her part was done, but it didn't mean that she could run towards the entrance of the hideout. She needed to be sure that no one would investigate the THUDs.


She lowered herself, counted till five, then only did she started to advance. Slight movements of the branches on her right announced Masan's approach.


As he appeared, she started to wonder what he had used to light that candle of his.


She knew how to make fire with twigs but it was a long process... she would never have been able to light something that fast.


Maybe he can teach me, she thought ...

But, he won't ... not if everything goes according to my plan...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan grinned at the two thuds of the guards being dropped. "Good girl." He whispered as he moved to rush the door, skidding to a halt when he saw that Fang had slunk through the grasses and was right up near the door. He narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Go bad to Boko, this was not the plan." 


He grabbed the hilt of his sword and drew it in one quick motion. "Go back, burn you." He growled low, "I'm going to kick in this door. I'm not sending you back to protect you from the bandits, but I'm going to be swinging at everything that moves in there. I don't want to have to watch myself to make sure I don't hit you. It's close quarters in there anyway. Now be off and bring Boko back here!" He snapped. Light she was like an infuriating little sister! She had done so well but it seemed like she insisted on being nosy and doing things the way she wanted! He also didn't want her to find out that he was going to be using the one power to help him overcome the number of soldiers in there. He couldn't have her finding out.


Trusting that she would listen to bloody flaming reason just this one bloody flaming time Masan rushed the door and promptly kicked the rickety planks in, making the hinges scream in protest and ripping them from their rotting wooden frame. The men inside had only just started to stand to investigate the sounds from outside. With a snarl Masan set upon them before they could draw their weapons, hacking at the sword hand of one bandit before flowing into another sword form and hamstringing another. He used an invisible push of, what he assumed to be, air that made it harder for the third bandit to reach him. It slowed the movement of his sword through the air giving Masan the handful of seconds he'd need to parry the attack and counter. 


A sword fight against three, less trained men only took a few seconds but it always felt like minutes. Soon all the bandits lay dead, their blood spilling out over their floor. They all seemed to wear the same yellow bandana and so he went about collecting them as proof as well as quickly pocketing any gold out and about before leaving to see if Fang had listened and brought Boko back. At least he was pleased that she hadn't come in after him.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fang opened her mouth, wanting to protest.


"It's closer quarter in there anyway. Now be off and bring Boko back here!" Her companion snapped, making her understand that he didn't want to hear what she was about to say. His eyes hardened, clear sign that he expected her to follow his instructions.


Fine, she thought and sighed. Still, she waited for the Arafelling to turn his head towards the door before starting to move.


The girl had barely reached the tree line when she heard a crashing sound. She turned and saw Masan rushing inside the hideout.


For a couple of seconds, she hesitated. Should she go to Boko and follow the plan? It was a tough decision to make.


Her grumbling stomach took the lead.


Focusing on the fighting noise that came from the cave, she ran towards the body of the dead bandits. She checked the men's pockets and found a collection of golden coins as well as a pair of strange tokens. She didn't know what they meant but thought they could be used somehow as a proof that she had taken down the whole group.


Once everything was secured in her pouch, she grabbed one of her heaviest daggers.


And now, let's way for you, lad.  She quickly advanced towards the hideout entrance, analyzing her options. Masan was stronger than he seemed, he was clever and a good soldier. It was better not to underestimate him.


Fang eventually reached the conclusion that the best way to knock Masan unconscious was to drop on him from above, and to bash on his head with the hilt of her dagger. To do so wouldn't be easy. She would need to climb on the stone that bordered the wooden entrance, then to find a way to stay hanging until the Arafellin came out.


She managed to set herself nicely just in time.


As soon as her companion exited the hideout she let herself fall right hand aiming at his skull.




The both fell on the ground, but Fang was the only one to get up. Feeling guilty, she checked Masan's pulse before searching him. He seemed to be fine. His pulse was alright, he was not bleeding.


Let's go !


Fang hurried to push everything she had stolen in her pouches and pockets. She looked back towards the hideout and decided it was better not to try to enter the cave. What is some of the brigands weren't dead ? What if Masan would wake up while she was still in?


Better to go back to Boko, she thought.


The horse was waiting where they had left it.


"Hey, Boko!" she started, trying to smile. "Your master has taken a nap. Would you like to come with me to the inn?"


She patted on the horse flank.


"You"ll be a good mount, aye?"


Trembling, she pushed herself on the horse's back.


"C'mon, let's go!"


The animal didn't move immediately. It moved its head from left to right, it made Fang wonder whether it was actually waiting for Masan.


"Please", she said.


Slowly, it started moving. The girl tried to make it hurry but her efforts didn't seem to pay. Boko advanced as she had asked but at its own pace, making the girl curse loudly.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Boko plodded along for a few minutes more, occasionally stopping to inspect a particularly savory patch of grass. She was unyielding despite Fang's urging and spurring. Boko didn't care. Boko was just going to live her life.


The lazy horse did, however, perk up at a loud, shrill sound in the distance. Three high notes played, making Boko's ears flick and her legs shuffle her to face the direction of the sound. The three notes rang out again and the horse that had been lazy up until this point broke into a run. She galloped so fast and hard back towards the clearing that it would have been a chore just to stay in the saddle. Jumping would simply lead to a broken neck.


Boko broke through the underbrush and into the clearing where Masan stood. Both his hands were cupped in front of his mouth and the fingers of the top hand were being used to make the three different notes. Masan's face was like a thunderhead. He was flushed with anger and his brows were knit together over stone cold eyes.


Boko galloped right up to him, halting suddenly and nearly throwing Fang from the saddle. She may as well have as Masan struck out with his hand, swift as a viper, and snatched a fistful of Fang's shirt at the back of her neck. Thrashing would have been useless. Masan ripped her slight form from the saddle effortlessly with one arm and, with the same fluid motion, threw her over his knee.


A loud crack rang through the clearing as Masan's free hand came down hard on her backside. Any attempt she made to thrash was met with another strike. There was no fleeing. The soldier's hold was too firm.


"You blasted, flaming little mudpie! Burn you! Where is your bloody honor? You flaming! Rotten! Daughter of a motherless goat! Bloody horse thieving, worm bellied COWARD!" He cursed her out, paddling her bottom and ignoring the sting in his hand. "Mother's milk in a cup! I'm going to make BLOODY well sure sure you won't be able to flaming SIT as long as my head is throbbing from your BLOODY NONSENSE! You better beg the light that your parents aren't in that village because I WILL ask Neril and if they are I WILL drag your tanned behind back to them by your flaming ear! Let them deal with their horse thieving brat! If not I'll tan you again myself you blasted little dribble of trolloc spit!" Masan bellowed.


He would not stop until she stopped her thrashing. She had to regain a pinch of honor. If she accepted this humiliating punishment he would accept her guilt and let her be.


All the while Boko just calmly nibbled on some grass. None of this was her concern.

Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The girl heard a strange sound. What is it? She wondered.


Boko seemed to be similarly surprised. It had stopped and turned towards the place where the sound had come from.


"C'mon, silly animal", Fang had urged. "It's nothing! Let's move!" She barely had the time to finish her sentence that the horse threw itself into a full gallop.


"STOP IT!" She shouted as she realized what was happening. "We can't go baaaaaaaaack....!"


Boko was moving so fast that the girl had no other choice but to bend her body on its back and to clutch to the reins. Doing anything else would be too dangerous : the ground was littered with rocks and fallen branches. Falling could mean death, depending on what her skull would meet first if she'd choose to jump.


As she was carried back to the hideout, Fang tried to find a way out of her awry situation. The noise and the horse's reaction had made it clear that Masan had woken up. He would probably be in a bad mood.




And there he was, his face so flushed with anger that he looked twice his age. Nothing was boyish about it him anymore.


As soon as the mount was close enough to its master it halted so suddenly that Fang found herself almost thrown out of the saddle. She was opening her mouth, preparing herself to answer to answer to Masan's accusations, when she felt herself being pulled towards the ground. Then, she felt her stingy pain on her backside. What the... ? Is he actually ... ?


"You son of a trolloc!" She protested fighting to get away from the Arafellin. "How dare you?"


There seemed to her that there was no way out. The more she struggled the firmer was his grip.


"You blasted, flaming little mudpie! Burn you! Where is your bloody honor? You flaming! Rotten! Daughter of a motherless goat! Bloody horse thieving, worm bellied COWARD!" was Masan's reply. He went on, still paddling her bottom. "Mother's milk in a cup! I'm going to make BLOODY well sure sure you won't be able to flaming SIT as long as my head is throbbing from your BLOODY NONSENSE! You better beg the light that your parents aren't in that village because I WILL ask Neril and if they are I WILL drag your tanned behind back to them by your flaming ear! Let them deal with their horse thieving brat! If not I'll tan you again myself you blasted little dribble of trolloc spit!"


The mention of her family made her blood boil. It awakened a new strength in her that made fed her muscles and willpower. She managed to raise her torso high enough to sent her elbow to the Arafellin's face. The surprise made him relax his grip long enough for Fang to wiggle away from his arms.


"You don't mention my parents to ANYONE !" she screamed. Her face was as red as her companion had been a moment before.

"You don't have the right!"


As she managed to get back on her feet, she grabbed two of her knives and sent itself in a defensive position. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan clamped a hand to his bloodied nose when she elbowed him. Light! Not even a lifetime of being the youngest of three boys and constantly rough housing could make one tolerant of being struck in the nose. He had the presence of mind to hope his nose didn't get broken. He rather liked his nose. He thought it was his primary handsome feature.


Masan didn't allow himself to be distracted for long. He was on his feet and in a swordsman's stance, one hand on the hilt of his sword in one fluid movement as Little Miss (she'd lost the right to be thought of by her ridiculous name) began shouting about her bloody parents. Unbelievable! She clobbered him, robbed him and tried to steal his horse and somehow HE was the bad guy? Un-bloody-believable! HE was the man who could channel and yet she was leagues madder than he was!


"I don't have the right?" He scoffed. Laughing at her. "Is that a sore spot Mudpie? Aren't your folks just GLOWING with PRIDE? They're so honored and blessed? That their little girl is a cowardly, back stabbing, BANDIT!? I've gathered quite a few bounties on my journey south and you have just confirmed for me that there is absolutely no HONOR among thieves. Bandits are rotten folks but at least they're a team. You though. You helped kill your own men and lead me to slaughter the rest? That's not just honorless. That is disgusting." He punctuated this by spitting on the ground. An insult not exclusive to the borderlands.


"Don't like talking about your parents? With your lack of honor I wouldn't be shocked if you slit their throats and robbed THEM blind." He glowered. He'd trusted her and it was such a stupid mistake. He'd looked at her and seen an over eager young soldier. He'd seen a younger version of himself. He'd wanted to help her despite how annoying she had been. Bloody flaming idiot. It'd probably been a trap. She had probably heard Neril hire someone to take out her gang of brigands in the woods and figured she could turn their downfall into a personal success. Burn her!

Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan's words stung her more than she had expected. Guilt filled her heart but she was not ready to admit it.


"You helped kill your own men and lead me to slaughter the rest?" the Arafellin threw at her.


What? this is not true, her eyes widened. Was he really taking her for one of the thieves.


"Don't like talking about your parents? With your lack of honor I wouldn't be shocked if you slit their throats and robbed THEM blind," he went on.


A part of her wanted to stay and punch the lad, what he was telling her was so unfair. She had had no choice. She had needed - and still needed - a decent meal and a full night of sleep. But this was not worth getting discovered.


What if her dad's men had caught up with her ? What if they were already in town asking for her? She needed to get away from Andor as fast as possible. The idiot she had in front of her would probably tell how a mean girl had tricked him with the brigands.


"Fine," she said at last. Mirroring him, as she spat on the ground. " Here's your fine reward!"


As she said so, she pulled her pouch from her belt and emptied in on the ground.


"I hope you choke on your food tonight."


As she finished her sentence, she started to run, hoping the lad was stupid enough not to make the link between her escape and her family.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Masan sputtered as she turned the entire conversation around and dumped all her coin on the ground. Why in the flaming pit of doom were women, even women-in-training it seemed, like this? Seriously. His mother could have been the one wrong and was always able to end the day with his father apologizing? How did they do it? Seriously this was why Masan had no intention of ever marrying one. Well. Okay so maybe that wasn't the ONLY reason. There was a pretty significant other reason but that was hardly important right now. He was NOT the bad guy in this! He wasn't! He should just let her run off! ... Yeah and get caught by the Watch and hanged for trying to steal someone else's horse. Masan growled and felt like he could tug his braids out. "Burn me! Boko, burn me I know I'm going to regret this!" He told the horse. He bent over to the coin. He'd known how much was actually his.  He tucked that back into the right pockets and put the Little Miss's in a side pocket before hoisting himself up into the saddle.


With her stinging backside she wasn't likely going to be able to run at her top speed. And even that would never outpace a bloody horse. Masan whistled, this time without his hands, and Boko understood the signal. She sprang into action and Masan pursued, eventually gaining on and outpacing the little baby bandit. He drew Boko aside hard to block her path.


"You think I'd be so dishonorable as to take what I didn't earn?" He grumbled. "I don't want your flaming coin. I wanted my own property back but I feel I am owed both an apology and an explanation." He glowered, using his knees to direct the horse and keep himself in Fang's way. 


"Look. You've got the potential to be a good soldier one day. Those fellows back there were never going to change or go honest. If you got wrapped up in this nonsense just say so. But, horse thievery is a crime punishable by hanging. That's why I was going to turn you over to your parents to help you sort out your life instead of the Watch. Hanging you this young would rob the future of your potential as a soldier. But you dishonor yourself by not being responsible for your actions. Look. If you just apologize, and I feel like you mean it, and explain what's going on I'll consider the paddling you got punishment due. Why are you so afraid for me to tell your parents?" He still assumed that her family lived in or near that village. But the mention of her family seemed to have really set her off. 


Now, he loved his parents dearly. Even Baun's parents had been wonderful to him. But he wasn't that naive. He knew that there were homes far less loving and idyllic than his own childhood home. There were parents that raised their children to fear their wrath more than fear disappointing or dishonoring them. He had no idea the station that she had been born into. He had no idea the truth of the matter. Frankly, he figured her skills indicative of growing up in a station more like his own. Were her parents in that village? Maybe the next one over? Was she a runaway from a bad home? Did she have a mother who would switch her because she could? A father who tormented her?


The average youth who got wrapped up in something wrong, especially a hanging offense, would normally be grateful to be released into the care of their family rather than the Watch or the Guard if it were a city. Sure maybe the things he'd said had been harsh but burn him he was furious with her. Frankly, he still was. She'd bloodied him more tonight than the other bandits had and frankly he felt that letting her off with the paddling she got would be rather coddling of him. It was taking all of his discipline to be reasonable! 


'Remember Masan. She could have just gotten mixed up with the wrong people and you'd be a convenient stranger no one around here would miss or comment on. Coin no one would count and a horse no one would claim ownership to. She may just be young and stupid and saw you as a way out of a bad place. Desperate people do bloody stupid flaming things.' He played in his head. His mother's voice in the back of his head scolding him for judging others before he knew what brought them to their choices. Burn him if his mother wouldn't have expected him to have handled himself better back in the clearing. But, burn him too he was furious! He hadn't stopped being furious, but he needed to know if there was a proper reason to get rid of it. 


"Look. You have clearly not been spending time with the right sort of people. But if you just explain. Why did you need to rob me? It's not like I wouldn't have let you sleep in the room we earned, and you had enough coin for a meal of your own. Sure, we'd probably have had to play raven, river, rock to sort out who used the bed and who used my camp bed roll on the floor but it would have been fair. I'm spitting mad at you and I need to know why I shouldn't be before I pull my bloody hair out!" He also desperately didn't want to give up on someone who reminded him so much of himself so many years ago. When he'd been enthusiastic and had wanted to take on the world. Right now seeing her stung. She reminded him of himself shortly after he'd lost Baun. Baun had been his voice of reason, a calming and focusing presence and seeing her like how he had been. It stung. Maybe part of wanting to save or help her came from wishing there had been something to help pull him up when he'd been lost himself. 




If you want to have an idea what I imagine Boko to look like, it's this. A silver speckled freisian. They are on the lighter side of a draft horse so their a little faster than other large breeds. Not nearly as fast as a horse that was bred for speed but their shining point is that they're also sturdy and can manage to carry an armored soldier if they have to. Their ancestors were likely used for both military and draft purposes. So she would probably be big compared to racing horses ect, which is what earns her the name Fatty in the old tongue, essentially as whatever this world's equivalent of the freisian would probably have been Masan's grandfather's favored breed. She's probably not the pinnacle of her breed of course. They wouldn't have been able to afford her. They're not lords. But she's a good girl.



Edited by LadyGreyfist
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"I didn't steal Boko!" Fang protested. "I didn't want to keep your flaming mount. I would have let her at the inn."


"I don't like to ride," she added half-muttering, before sighing. The Arafellin seemed to want to help her, but it was way to early for her to fully trust him.


As she hesitated about what to say next, Masan went on.


"Look. You have clearly not been spending time with the right sort of people. But if you just explain. Why did you need to rob me? It's not like I wouldn't have let you sleep in the room we earned, and you had enough coin for a meal of your own. Sure, we'd probably have had to play raven, river, rock to sort out who used the bed and who used my camp bed roll on the floor but it would have been fair. I'm spitting mad at you and I need to know why I shouldn't be before I pull my bloody hair out!"


The young man's words touched her. They managed to break some parts of the walls she had so carefully built around herself.


"I am sorry," she started. "I have been wandering for so long, I just wanted food and a bed for one night. But, it's too late, right?"


She kicked some of the dirt on the ground, surprised to have apologized so fast. Maybe it's only because I am tired, she thought.


Now that they didn't have an attack to plan and that she didn't need to escape, she felt her body weaken.


I am not going to pass out !!!!


Stars formed on front of her eyes. Fighting to stay on her feet, she staggered towards one of the thickest trees on her left side.


"I think I'll just rest a bit," she said.






ooc : very nice horse !!!!

you could use it in a siggy with Masan !




Edited by Chaelca
Link to comment
Share on other sites


  • Create New...