A thread in the Pattern (Attn: Dilora and crew!)

[Thorfinn]

~Thorfinn~

 

The wind whistled through the coppice of trees to the leftof the hard dirt packed road. He could here the activity of a grey squirrel in the tree. Thorfinn breaved in the fresh cleam air. The wild was music to his ears, alot better to the din of the city.

 

He looked over his shoulder to eye a lone horse man riding alongside Dilora's wagon. By the looks of it he was a Gleeman and he knew Dilora, and by the looks of it the horse was trying to nuzzle Dilora, but the rider pulled the horses head away.

 

The huge size of the Ogre Forge walking on foot and Jaren in the wagon would make it really easy for people to follow and trace. If they ever stayed intown the Darkfreinds would find it really easy to follow ther trail. Two Orges in group would catch alot of attention. It wasn't that he didin't like the Ogre, in fact when he was a boy he used to dream of goin to a Stedding and living with the Ogres. It was just that he could cover his own tracks but a group this big would be a hard job. He'll just have to deal with it andthats that.

 

Tyosh, Neome and and blade,aster with the topnot similiar to the Shianerian warrior were riding just ahead of Dilora. He wondered if she was Shianerian, he would enjoy having a wee chat with her he thought. The New girl sitting next to Dilora was looking at each of them and didn't quite look as if she new what or where they were goin. Maybe i should break the ice later for her and bring her into the group a bit more. And as he looked over the humans of their group he saw that he was possible the oldest there. most of them still in there prime. Not that he was a old codger. At 40 hewas more active thatn most men, he was out on the hunt every day unlike most who were in the feild ploughing or in the Inn drinking.

 

He was a long way away from home now. Nut this time round he new what he was doing and where he was goin. Mani flayed his head as his hoofs made the clip clop noise on the hard packed road, Thorfinn patted the Dhurrans neck to reassure him. He wasn't built for speed but he was good enough for the job. With the speed of the wagon he would fare pretty well. He had used him to carry many a der, boar and even bear back home to his cabin. He was a good horse and he wouldn't ride any other horse. Mani also knew him well too. if needed he could stear him with his knees to.

 

As Thorfinn looked up he was thinking they were about to reach the mile mark out of Caemlyn. Lets see who our new friend is.

[Winter Mist]

~Dilora~

 

A smile. A smile that grew wider as she realised this figure wasn't a ghost or a remnant shade. Memories boiled like soup in a kettle, but she suppressed them when she saw him. Malic. He was looking well, Dilora remarked; a few lines here and there where life was taking it's toll, a hint of some mirth affecting him, but he was holding it well and looking better than she supposed she did. The chord sang in her ears as though a silvery waterfall from his harp, and his voice made her think of every pleasant evening she had ever spent in a tavern.

 

"Malic! It's been far too long!" Dilora handed the reins over to Beatrice for a little while, cautioning her not to steal the wagon and it's contents or Altie would bite her in a soft place and then climbed down the ladder to jump off. With a cheerful wave promising she'd catch them up in a few minutes, Dilora looked up at Malic Deriz and smiled. It had been far too long.

 

"We should catch up a little, Malic." Craning her neck up to see him, Dilora noticed she was on the same level as his ankles, that lead her gaze up to well-turned calfs. She smiled. What tales had this man seen since she had left him outside of Caemlyn before? Other lands? Other songs? Other women? They were all likely suggestions given his nature and the fact that he had a heart to make a mother proud and nervous for her daughter all at the same time and his spirit was the same as hers - bound to roam, the road her home. A little quiet time to talk over what had happened, that was what she needed, and it didn't seem to be forthcoming with all the people around. She sighed and shook her head, hoping he wouldn't notice.

 

"What have you been up to?" Her feet kept up with the easy pace the rest of the team had slowed to. Good. At least they were making sure she wouldn't be left behind. Mind you, she'd chase them halfway through the Caralain Grass if they tried it without letting her know. Roaming free was one thing: making off as though being chased by the Children of the Light after a darkfriend was not the best way to be, particularly if Dilora hadn't had time to inventory her wagon. "It seems like it has been forever since I last saw you, but you're looking well." Oh yes, some time to talk of old times and other things, with a tankard or two, now that was really appealing now.

[Myth]

OOC: this thread definitely has the best Siggys at DM... now back to business.

 

Forge looked back at Little Bee visiting with the newcomer who was obviously an old friend. As the rest of the group eased on toward Tar Valon, the giant Ogier expected that she had a lot of catching up to do, especially if she dawdled. In the meantime, he had plenty to keep him occupied as well. He took stock of the situation as he walked, surveying the diverse group of humans that the Wheel had woven into a strangely colorful thread.

 

Jeran was a sight for sore eyes. It would be nice to catch up with him and listen to the latest idea that he’d no doubt be pouring his efforts into. Forge had never known anyone who could manage to put puzzles together as well as Jeran, especially when the puzzle seemed to not have any pieces that fit. He was like a gleeman with his magic tricks, only he used his mind and books instead of colorful balls up his sleeves.

 

The girl driving the wagon was obviously a thief. He hadn’t caught her name yet, but the way she looked at everyone out of the corner of her eyes, and the way she kept touching various places on her body as if unconsciously making sure hidden weapons were still where they were supposed to be, was enough to give it away. It would do to keep on eye on her, even if Dilora Fashelle thought her trustworthy.

 

Tyosh and Thorfinn were proving to be steady under the strain. Perhaps one or both should be included in his plans… he would ask Rosheen what she thought, but he suspected they would both be handy in a scrap. They certainly handled their bows with the ease only earned from years of use.

 

Rosheen, he knew as a master of arms, but it was her associate that troubled him. Nerome kept looking back over his shoulder toward Caemlyn, as if he had painted a target between his shoulder blades but didn’t know when the arrow would reach its mark. His behavior suggested that the threat from the Darkfriends on their trail was grave, indeed.

 

Meticulously, Forge considered the options that lay before him. He certainly had no desire to travel all the way to Tar Valon with only the Creator knew how many Darkfriends chasing them. They couldn’t hide, the size of their party and the fact that he and Jeran were with them removed that option. They had no idea when an attack would come, nor from how large a party, so tension and strain would eventually build amongst them until they did something foolish. No, it was better to take care of the situation as soon as possible. You hammered the steel in front of you instead of dreaming of working silver.

 

His mind made up, the 12-foot tall mass of muscle made his way over to his old friend Rosheen as she rode alongside her young pupil. She looked natural on her stallion, her heron-marked blade strapped to her back. She was a finely forged weapon. Every catlike movement of her body illustrated it for anyone wise enough to notice, even sitting at ease on the back of a horse. As he approached, he smiled at Nerome and addressed him first, his voice sounding like a bass drum‘s rumble, “How’s that knot on your head, lad?” After the young man laughed it off and said it was nothing, Forge asked, “Would you mind if I talk to Rosheen a bit? It’s been years since I saw her last, and I’ve got a lot to talk to her about.”

 

As Nerome moved back to ride beside the wagon, Rosheen spoke before he had the chance, “What’s on your mind Forge? I don’t think it has anything to do with old times.”

 

The Ogier laughed merrily before beginning, “ Perceptive as ever, my fine Blademaster. No, the Light willing we’ll have plenty of time later to catch up. What concerns me now is of a more, um, urgent matter.” Looking around to make sure no one was near enough to overhear their conversation, Forge began.

 

“Nerome seems very worried about these Darkfriends of his following us. Knowing you as I do, I suspect that he’s tough enough to not be scared unless there’s reason. So that means whoever is chasing us, however many of them there are, is very dangerous” When she nodded, he continued, sharing his concerns about their situation. When he had summarized them, he concluded, “I think we should clear the fields of any weeds that may be threatening us. I don’t like the notion of running to begin with, and furthermore I’d prefer to surprise them before they surprised us.” When Rosheen smiled, he suspected that she felt the same way. Forge went on.

 

“I have a plan. There’s a clearing over there with a large stream running through it,” he said, pointing slightly ahead and to the left. “It would make an ideal campsite, except its too close to Tar Valon for travelers to ever bother stopping there. I think we should turn off the main road and make our way through it. Anyone behind who us who is simply minding their own business won’t bother to follow us, but if someone does follow…” Forge pointedly fingered his axe.

 

“I think everyone should cross the creek, then whoever is going to be in the ambush should circle back, while everyone else stays with the wagon. The archers could hide at the edge of the clearing, and I could provide a distraction… Now, who do you think we can count on when the blood starts flowing? Besides you and me, I thought the hunter. And maybe the herbalist,” he said pointing out each person for Rosheen’s judgment. “What about your young man, Nerome? It is his fight after all.”

 

Having said all he needed to, Forge waited and listened. Walking in the sun was pleasant, and he meant to savor every moment because death’s cold embrace was waiting for someone this afternoon.

[Amalasan]

The tenor tone humming that fluttered from the inside of the wagon brought a perfect symphony to go with the harp chords that Malic played. The sounds brought a dear warmth and lit up the area even more. No shadowspawn could have come within a mile of this light. When the light faded, Malic leaped off Munch, packed away his harp and left him to trot alongside Altie allowing them to do a little catching up of their own.

 

There was no awkwardness between them as far as Malic could tell, which pleased him. It was apparent that Dilora had missed Malic as much as he had missed her. The multitude of questions that came his way was all very similar to his own. He answered them the best he could, but the question of him being with any women from the time of their parting did baffle. Explaining that he spent the majority of the time with a farmer and his wife only sparked a look of controversy on her face, but only for a split moment. The rest of the time he spent looking for her, which brought the smile back.

 

Malic is a man whom is very in touch with his feelings and he knew very much how well the two of them connected, his feelings were giving him strength, strength enough to stand upright even after a few days of no sleep. Her eyes sparkled with desire like a rare flower waiting for the impending approach of the humming bird…he knew this was also as he looked, as he gazed deep into her eyes, checking out her fine figure and soft uttering of how well she also looked.

 

It went on like that for what seemed to be hours, and probably was, he was lost in the long moment and didn’t want to return. “I would sing a thousand praises for this thread in the pattern which brought me back to you so willingly dear Dilora. But not all I have to say is so pleasant.” The mood within Malic had changed, and unfortunately did bring him back from his moment of ecstasy. It also hit home that he was almost ready to drop from exhaustion “There is a bounty set out on you and the crew”…Malic went on telling Dilora of his conversation with the inn keepers and his swift departure from Caemlyn. He truly did hope he was that good at being avoided.

 

OOC: Looking to get Malics Weapon score up. Perhaps Rosheen could help out with some training?

[Winter Mist]

~Dilora~

 

One of the Ogier, Forge, had peeled off to talk to the crested-haired woman warrior, Rosheen, while Malic had dismounted from his horse to walk on the ground alongside Dilora herself. Dilora was happy to see Malic, truly happy, even if they had not parted under the nicest of circumstances. Strain, death and destruction never were pleasant bedfellows with a cheerful life. And now Malic dropped the tray of crystal that would shatter and embed its tiny fragments in everything: the owners of the tavern had put a bounty on the members of their party. Well, well, well. She'd need to send those letters out with a large bag of gold or some little gem-like sweetener to keep the taveniers from baying for her blood, or the blood of her party. Pressed tightly under the foldaway bed, wrapped in folded silk in a little drawer, was her jewellery collection.

 

"You say these tavern owners have notions that they are related to the nobility?" Dilora asked over her shoulder as she broke their gaze and started walking back to the trundling wagon. Altie and Munch were rubbing noses of all things, ambling along. Malic nodded. "Good. I might have something in my wagon that might help." Climbing up to the back door of the wagon, Dilora wedged herself in and Jeran looked up from his melon contemplation, eyes darting left and right before they finally fell on the drawer between mattress and base. She knew it was in here somewhere ... hands darted into the drawer eagerly and brought out a small gold pin, that sat in her palm of her hand. It had the emblem of a golden iris worked onto it, and was inlaid with white enamel - quite pretty, really, and just the sort of thing that would appeal to a discerning noble. With any luck they would accept her letter and her apologies and, with an even bigger stroke of luck, call any mercenaries off their scent. With a nod to the fruit-concerned ogier, Dilora picked her way between cargo and condiments and showed her find to Malic.

 

"What do you think? I picked it up at a fair once - the most valuable piece I own. It should be enough to see us right. In the meantime I shall have to have words with the cause of the ruckus." True, she had played her own part in this... If they were trying to claim that someone had died at their hands though ... no, they wouldn't do that, surely. They'd send thief-catchers after them. Alianna. They'd be alright if they sent Alianna Karalev after them, but sadly her old friend was likely in Cairhien or somewhere by now... Old times...

 

"Yes, a letter should do the trick." With more positivity than she felt, Dilora shoved the trinket into her belt pouch to remind her to write the letter later. She'd write in her journal at the same time. Light, what adventures she was having! Two ogier, a herbalist, a hunter, an uncannily aware horse, an old friend, an old flame and a Warder or two! Such interesting things would go into her diary, but what would happen tomorrow to surpass it? Dilora found herself wishing for the open road and some solitude for a brief while, but a look at her companions quickly dispelled that. Some normality would be nice, normality and a chance to do some serious trading again. But first, they needed sleep and a chance to rest briefly to recover from the exigencies of the day. She lay a hand on Malic's arm, and smiled up at him.

[Winter Mist]

OOC - This now continues in the thread "Aiel Have What She's Having" where we have camped for the night. From there, the next stop will be Tar Valon. :)