Post by spitfire on Jan 5, 2010 21:32:42 GMT -5
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is one of the trails winding through and around Dalmally isle and village
--overseen by Kendra MacGregor --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
Violet eyes had misted over as she stood in the field behind the farmhouse, looking towards the White Palace of Aeren, her heart heavy with a sadness over what was being left behind, stomach knotted with anxiety over what was to come, fear of the ghosts that would be faced and anticipation over the chance for renewal. She was going home and it was with a whistful smile that she turned and walked to the farmhouse, warmth and love waiting for her there, ready to accompany her to the edges of the earth.
A light snow swirled on a bitter cold wind blowing down the slopes of Creag Mhor, over the glen and to the loch, dancing on air as it gathered and thickened in the gloaming. A fox furrowing nearby lifted his nose, sniffing, unmoving for a moment until a twitch of its bushy red tail broke the stillness and it scampered off towards the keep, rising tall and proud from the ghostly landscape several hundred yards ahead.
Out of the snow, a shimmer appeared, faint at first, with only the barest hint of purple. The twinkling continued, taking form until out of nowhere appeared a wee, dark haired woman wearing a cloak of the darkest indigo blue, head and face uncovered despite the chill. In her arms, yawning drowsily rested a fair haired lass, lavender eyes intermitently hidden by a sweep of dark lashes. To one side, looking more than slightly stunned and green stood a tall, ruddy, flaxen maiden and on the other, looking only slightly less queazy and apparently trying to decide whether he should double over or not, a broadshouldered man taller that even most highlanders. Kendra ignored the pair for now, one hand absentmindedly rubbing Brianna's cloaked back, eyes feasting on the sight before her as snowflakes drifted lazily from the darkening sky.
Her head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing as she surveyed the keep. Home. But not as she had last seen it, smoldering ruins torn down by might and magic. Kendra handed Brianna over to a recovered Moira and broke away to walk forward for a better look, her steps quickening, breaking the crust of unspoiled snow. Slowly her head started shaking from side to side, eyes widening in disbelief. Soon she was running down the path winding its way through what might be called a village, unimpeded by the fact that the trail was unperceivable under its cold blanket. The keep was intact, standing as it had long before it had been destroyed in a bloodbath.
Impossible,
she murmured to herself, coming to a stop by the open gates framed by a sturdy stone wall, bare fingers sliding over scarred wood, a confused gaze looking to massive castle keep she had once called home.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
-It was the day of moving. It had finally come, emotions were running thick. It was a bittersweet day...A day of loss, and new beginnings. Adrian had had so many such days in his lng life that he had lost count. For him..leaving Aeren was not the hard pasrt. It was in leaving the farmhouse that he found the source of the greater sadness. It was his and yours first home..a home he had repaired with his own hands. A home that he had shared many loving nights with you, and Bree in..it was one of the first places his choatic life had found a measure of peace and calm, and now they were uprooting it. It was not all bad though. Inside Adrian burned the fire of adventure. Scotland spoke to his warrior pride, and he knew..he could feel it. He could feel that he would thrive. He had been briefed by you, that Scotland was not going to welcome him with open arms, or either of you for that matter, but for whatever reason..that just made it more fun. He had seen how some scots resolved disputes..not with words..but with fists..it was his kind of people-
-As always...teleporting made him violently ill..go dfucking dammit..he should have just walked..or flow..or crawled..anything was better then the wave of nausea that fell in his stomack like one of those "Cable" The crazy skirt wearing scots threw about..at Least Moira wasn't faring any better. That eased his bruised Pride somewhat-
-He was to busy being doubled over to take much notice of the fact you had run off but when the nausea had passed he gave chase..confient that Moira would be able to handle Bree and would be following shortly thereafter..He found you..fingertips stroking the sacrred wood of an ancient keep. And by the lok on your face..he could tell it was of your family. His gaze broke from you as he looked around, letting out a slow whistle-
Color me impressed
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T: As usual, she felt him come up behind her despite the quietness nearly only a hunter could achieve. Fingers flexed and splayed, her palm pressing to the gate standing open in silent welcome, beckoning her to step beyond the threshold.
It is no' how it is meant tae be. It was...there was..., Kendra turned her head and tipped it upward, unreadable eyes meeting his.
There was near nothing left.
Moira and Brianna had joined them and it was time for more. Kendra's hand fell from the wood and she wandered into the bailey, her chest rising with a long, indrawn breath that was held as she took in the familiar sights. It was all there, the stables to the left. Slightly behind them the mews, a round tower that once held one of The Laird's pride and joys; his peregrines. Halfway through the courtyard, she turned on herself, skirts and cloak rustling softly and they swirled around her legs. Eyes widened farther, a hand lifting to her mouth, fingers pressing to her lips. The chapel, even the bloody chapel was there, standing intact behind the gatehouse they had just passed. Incomprehension marred a pale face and once again she turned, running to the massive keep door. One small push and it opened, the torches within flaring to life, casting light and shadow against cold stone walls and welcoming her in.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
And now it would seem there is more..
-He said the word quietly as he followed after you..watching you..more then the surrouding, watching the look of awe and confusion only grow the deeper you ventured. Moira and Bree following close behind, Moira chattering nonsense to Bree all the while-
-Adrian could..feel the hostility in the place. It hung like a fog, was seepe into the walls. The people who had dwelled here had been a brutal and merciless people. The aura of the place made Adrian Tense..muscles flexing, and he was relieved when the two of you finally slipped into a chapel..the affect was instantly calming, as was common when ever he came across holy ground, always he felt better lighter..more..at peace. He stayed back standing between the first row of pews from the door, and he watched you as you ventured deeper-
He Looked up at the chapel as you passed by it..following at a more sedated pace as you rushed forward to the massive keep doors, throwing them wide, the sound of the door banging against stone echoed throughout the keep..it was dark inside..even turning the day, and with the torches lit..it was still cold..still dark-
Lovely.. -His deep voice echoed somewhat was he spoke the one word-
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in the Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
A small corridor brought them to a breach in the wall on the right. The entrance to the Great Hall, where her father and his men oft dined with whatever dignitaries or travelers had made it to the keep. Gatherings both formal and informal had been held here and Kendra could still hear their echoes as she stepped in, hands folded against her slightly rounded stomach, chin trembling slightly.
The walls had been newly whitewashed and hung with large, colourful intricately woven tapestries, both beautiful and practical as they helped keep the warmth in within the drafty keep. The floor had been covered with fresh, sweetsmelling rushes and even a fire roared in the massive hearth. Kendra released that breath and wandered in deeper, eyes lifting to the dark, oak beams that crisscrossed the ceiling, then flitted to the huge trestle tables taking up half of the room, ready to welcome hungry warriors and peasants alike. A smaller one, this one more intricately carved used to sit on a dais, in front of more thronelike chairs. The MacGregor's seat, as well as his wife's. Different from the rough hewn benches lining the lower tables.
The dais and large, cushioned chairs were gone and Kendra looked around the room, fingertips following the edge of a table as she walked.
It is tha same yet...different.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch: -His fingertips casually brushed over one of the tapestries, then to the cold stone wall feeling the chill permeate his skin. moving now to one of the large tables, fingers brushing over the notched top..how many people had feasted on this table Adrian wondered for a bit. He inhaled the scent of the keep, a mix of musty and fresh, and soon he was standing beside you looking towards the raised dias, his arm sliding around your waist, and holding you against his hip-
Different how?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
Different,
she whispered, leaning into him, only dimly aware that Moira and a sleeping Bree were circling the room, also taking in every little detail. She waved her hand to the head of the tables placed so they made a "U" shape.
There is no more dais, tha Laird woul' no longer be able tae sit above all others. It..feels different. All of it..
She left his side and wandered to the hearth to admire the tapestry hanging above it. A scene she knew well enough. The south view, into the loch. An island, one she knew was shielded by mists in reality. In the tapestry she could see it clearly, lush and green, a haven amidst still water and for some reason, a swell of emotion nearly overcame her. Tears stung, her throat constricted, a hand lifting to brace against the mantle..and it was then that she saw it.
In that moment, everything fell into place. The reconstruction, the welcoming signs. The lack of dais so she could not sit higher than any other because she would not have it any other way. And she knew, that the crates of belongings she had ported through during the day would be empty, their belongings already in place. Every single part of the keep would be repaired, clean and ready for use.
Right near her hand, in the center stone below the sandstone shelf. It glowed, or so it seemed, as firelight from the flames dancing below flickered over it, casting it in stark relief. A circled salamander.
Her breath hitched for a moment, eyes closing as she swayed with unnamed emotion. She swallowed them down, full lips curving into a knowing, bittersweet smile and she whispered her thanks before turning back to Adrian, her face all aglow, eyes dark and shimmering, the smile still on her face, as well as a peacefulness that had not been there a few moments before.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch: -He watched the emotions working across your face, confusion being the dominating emotion of his..he had no idea what was going on..what the meaning of any of this was. But when you turned back to hom, the look of calm tranquility on your face he realized that whatever it was..whoever had done it..it was a good thing, and was meant to be...besides...it looked like all the stuff was already unpacked, and that was more then fine with him..though..a slight pang sliced through him..a disappointment. He had been looking forward to making the new home with his bare hands. To constructing something out of nothing. something lasting that even when he was gone...He shook his head clearing the thoughts away. This place was your home long before he knew you, and it was only fitting that it should be your home once more-
-A smile broke on his face, and he walked towards you, sweeping you up into hs arms giving you a spin, and pullig your down so that he could steal your breath with a kiss-
Welcome home
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
She would have to explain the salamander to him, the broach, the summoning. Everything. But for now she contented herself with finally feeling the first tendils of joy tugging at her and Moira looked on with an indulgent smile as Kendra laughed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Adrian's shoulders, kissing him some more.
High above the loch, in a snowy pass overlooking the keep stood an old woman huddled beneath a cloak, gnarled hand curled around a sturdy walking stick. One would wonder how a crone could make it that far into the snow laden moutains, with no cottages nearby offering refuge or respite should she be overcome by the cold or brittle old bones.
From deep within the hood of her cloak, keen blue eyes watched as the witch and her companions ventured through the fields and into the keep, her face almost eager as she spoke to the crow sitting on a frail shoulder, a bird that seemed black as hades until light played off its plumage in a greenish and purple sheen.
A child o' tha mists has returned, an exiled daughter of Alba returning to tha fold. She brings wi' 'er peace an' abundance, she carries life and walks with death. Tha clans awaken, the glory only they can achieve within their grasp. It is our time.
A gaptoothed smile creased the weathered face, a whirl of snow and wind tugging at the folds of her cloak and as suddenly as she was there, she was not.
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is one of the trails winding through and around Dalmally isle and village
--overseen by Kendra MacGregor --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
Violet eyes had misted over as she stood in the field behind the farmhouse, looking towards the White Palace of Aeren, her heart heavy with a sadness over what was being left behind, stomach knotted with anxiety over what was to come, fear of the ghosts that would be faced and anticipation over the chance for renewal. She was going home and it was with a whistful smile that she turned and walked to the farmhouse, warmth and love waiting for her there, ready to accompany her to the edges of the earth.
A light snow swirled on a bitter cold wind blowing down the slopes of Creag Mhor, over the glen and to the loch, dancing on air as it gathered and thickened in the gloaming. A fox furrowing nearby lifted his nose, sniffing, unmoving for a moment until a twitch of its bushy red tail broke the stillness and it scampered off towards the keep, rising tall and proud from the ghostly landscape several hundred yards ahead.
Out of the snow, a shimmer appeared, faint at first, with only the barest hint of purple. The twinkling continued, taking form until out of nowhere appeared a wee, dark haired woman wearing a cloak of the darkest indigo blue, head and face uncovered despite the chill. In her arms, yawning drowsily rested a fair haired lass, lavender eyes intermitently hidden by a sweep of dark lashes. To one side, looking more than slightly stunned and green stood a tall, ruddy, flaxen maiden and on the other, looking only slightly less queazy and apparently trying to decide whether he should double over or not, a broadshouldered man taller that even most highlanders. Kendra ignored the pair for now, one hand absentmindedly rubbing Brianna's cloaked back, eyes feasting on the sight before her as snowflakes drifted lazily from the darkening sky.
Her head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing as she surveyed the keep. Home. But not as she had last seen it, smoldering ruins torn down by might and magic. Kendra handed Brianna over to a recovered Moira and broke away to walk forward for a better look, her steps quickening, breaking the crust of unspoiled snow. Slowly her head started shaking from side to side, eyes widening in disbelief. Soon she was running down the path winding its way through what might be called a village, unimpeded by the fact that the trail was unperceivable under its cold blanket. The keep was intact, standing as it had long before it had been destroyed in a bloodbath.
Impossible,
she murmured to herself, coming to a stop by the open gates framed by a sturdy stone wall, bare fingers sliding over scarred wood, a confused gaze looking to massive castle keep she had once called home.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
-It was the day of moving. It had finally come, emotions were running thick. It was a bittersweet day...A day of loss, and new beginnings. Adrian had had so many such days in his lng life that he had lost count. For him..leaving Aeren was not the hard pasrt. It was in leaving the farmhouse that he found the source of the greater sadness. It was his and yours first home..a home he had repaired with his own hands. A home that he had shared many loving nights with you, and Bree in..it was one of the first places his choatic life had found a measure of peace and calm, and now they were uprooting it. It was not all bad though. Inside Adrian burned the fire of adventure. Scotland spoke to his warrior pride, and he knew..he could feel it. He could feel that he would thrive. He had been briefed by you, that Scotland was not going to welcome him with open arms, or either of you for that matter, but for whatever reason..that just made it more fun. He had seen how some scots resolved disputes..not with words..but with fists..it was his kind of people-
-As always...teleporting made him violently ill..go dfucking dammit..he should have just walked..or flow..or crawled..anything was better then the wave of nausea that fell in his stomack like one of those "Cable" The crazy skirt wearing scots threw about..at Least Moira wasn't faring any better. That eased his bruised Pride somewhat-
-He was to busy being doubled over to take much notice of the fact you had run off but when the nausea had passed he gave chase..confient that Moira would be able to handle Bree and would be following shortly thereafter..He found you..fingertips stroking the sacrred wood of an ancient keep. And by the lok on your face..he could tell it was of your family. His gaze broke from you as he looked around, letting out a slow whistle-
Color me impressed
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T: As usual, she felt him come up behind her despite the quietness nearly only a hunter could achieve. Fingers flexed and splayed, her palm pressing to the gate standing open in silent welcome, beckoning her to step beyond the threshold.
It is no' how it is meant tae be. It was...there was..., Kendra turned her head and tipped it upward, unreadable eyes meeting his.
There was near nothing left.
Moira and Brianna had joined them and it was time for more. Kendra's hand fell from the wood and she wandered into the bailey, her chest rising with a long, indrawn breath that was held as she took in the familiar sights. It was all there, the stables to the left. Slightly behind them the mews, a round tower that once held one of The Laird's pride and joys; his peregrines. Halfway through the courtyard, she turned on herself, skirts and cloak rustling softly and they swirled around her legs. Eyes widened farther, a hand lifting to her mouth, fingers pressing to her lips. The chapel, even the bloody chapel was there, standing intact behind the gatehouse they had just passed. Incomprehension marred a pale face and once again she turned, running to the massive keep door. One small push and it opened, the torches within flaring to life, casting light and shadow against cold stone walls and welcoming her in.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
And now it would seem there is more..
-He said the word quietly as he followed after you..watching you..more then the surrouding, watching the look of awe and confusion only grow the deeper you ventured. Moira and Bree following close behind, Moira chattering nonsense to Bree all the while-
-Adrian could..feel the hostility in the place. It hung like a fog, was seepe into the walls. The people who had dwelled here had been a brutal and merciless people. The aura of the place made Adrian Tense..muscles flexing, and he was relieved when the two of you finally slipped into a chapel..the affect was instantly calming, as was common when ever he came across holy ground, always he felt better lighter..more..at peace. He stayed back standing between the first row of pews from the door, and he watched you as you ventured deeper-
He Looked up at the chapel as you passed by it..following at a more sedated pace as you rushed forward to the massive keep doors, throwing them wide, the sound of the door banging against stone echoed throughout the keep..it was dark inside..even turning the day, and with the torches lit..it was still cold..still dark-
Lovely.. -His deep voice echoed somewhat was he spoke the one word-
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in the Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
A small corridor brought them to a breach in the wall on the right. The entrance to the Great Hall, where her father and his men oft dined with whatever dignitaries or travelers had made it to the keep. Gatherings both formal and informal had been held here and Kendra could still hear their echoes as she stepped in, hands folded against her slightly rounded stomach, chin trembling slightly.
The walls had been newly whitewashed and hung with large, colourful intricately woven tapestries, both beautiful and practical as they helped keep the warmth in within the drafty keep. The floor had been covered with fresh, sweetsmelling rushes and even a fire roared in the massive hearth. Kendra released that breath and wandered in deeper, eyes lifting to the dark, oak beams that crisscrossed the ceiling, then flitted to the huge trestle tables taking up half of the room, ready to welcome hungry warriors and peasants alike. A smaller one, this one more intricately carved used to sit on a dais, in front of more thronelike chairs. The MacGregor's seat, as well as his wife's. Different from the rough hewn benches lining the lower tables.
The dais and large, cushioned chairs were gone and Kendra looked around the room, fingertips following the edge of a table as she walked.
It is tha same yet...different.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch: -His fingertips casually brushed over one of the tapestries, then to the cold stone wall feeling the chill permeate his skin. moving now to one of the large tables, fingers brushing over the notched top..how many people had feasted on this table Adrian wondered for a bit. He inhaled the scent of the keep, a mix of musty and fresh, and soon he was standing beside you looking towards the raised dias, his arm sliding around your waist, and holding you against his hip-
Different how?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
Different,
she whispered, leaning into him, only dimly aware that Moira and a sleeping Bree were circling the room, also taking in every little detail. She waved her hand to the head of the tables placed so they made a "U" shape.
There is no more dais, tha Laird woul' no longer be able tae sit above all others. It..feels different. All of it..
She left his side and wandered to the hearth to admire the tapestry hanging above it. A scene she knew well enough. The south view, into the loch. An island, one she knew was shielded by mists in reality. In the tapestry she could see it clearly, lush and green, a haven amidst still water and for some reason, a swell of emotion nearly overcame her. Tears stung, her throat constricted, a hand lifting to brace against the mantle..and it was then that she saw it.
In that moment, everything fell into place. The reconstruction, the welcoming signs. The lack of dais so she could not sit higher than any other because she would not have it any other way. And she knew, that the crates of belongings she had ported through during the day would be empty, their belongings already in place. Every single part of the keep would be repaired, clean and ready for use.
Right near her hand, in the center stone below the sandstone shelf. It glowed, or so it seemed, as firelight from the flames dancing below flickered over it, casting it in stark relief. A circled salamander.
Her breath hitched for a moment, eyes closing as she swayed with unnamed emotion. She swallowed them down, full lips curving into a knowing, bittersweet smile and she whispered her thanks before turning back to Adrian, her face all aglow, eyes dark and shimmering, the smile still on her face, as well as a peacefulness that had not been there a few moments before.
Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's Troubadours .:.
Arena Champion
Now Hold onto me, Pretty baby
If you wanna fly
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch: -He watched the emotions working across your face, confusion being the dominating emotion of his..he had no idea what was going on..what the meaning of any of this was. But when you turned back to hom, the look of calm tranquility on your face he realized that whatever it was..whoever had done it..it was a good thing, and was meant to be...besides...it looked like all the stuff was already unpacked, and that was more then fine with him..though..a slight pang sliced through him..a disappointment. He had been looking forward to making the new home with his bare hands. To constructing something out of nothing. something lasting that even when he was gone...He shook his head clearing the thoughts away. This place was your home long before he knew you, and it was only fitting that it should be your home once more-
-A smile broke on his face, and he walked towards you, sweeping you up into hs arms giving you a spin, and pullig your down so that he could steal your breath with a kiss-
Welcome home
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in The Great Hall
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Adrian Teppes.:.Hell's T:
She would have to explain the salamander to him, the broach, the summoning. Everything. But for now she contented herself with finally feeling the first tendils of joy tugging at her and Moira looked on with an indulgent smile as Kendra laughed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Adrian's shoulders, kissing him some more.
High above the loch, in a snowy pass overlooking the keep stood an old woman huddled beneath a cloak, gnarled hand curled around a sturdy walking stick. One would wonder how a crone could make it that far into the snow laden moutains, with no cottages nearby offering refuge or respite should she be overcome by the cold or brittle old bones.
From deep within the hood of her cloak, keen blue eyes watched as the witch and her companions ventured through the fields and into the keep, her face almost eager as she spoke to the crow sitting on a frail shoulder, a bird that seemed black as hades until light played off its plumage in a greenish and purple sheen.
A child o' tha mists has returned, an exiled daughter of Alba returning to tha fold. She brings wi' 'er peace an' abundance, she carries life and walks with death. Tha clans awaken, the glory only they can achieve within their grasp. It is our time.
A gaptoothed smile creased the weathered face, a whirl of snow and wind tugging at the folds of her cloak and as suddenly as she was there, she was not.