Mills Pride Closte Organizers

The Avenger - Chapter 27. Thibaut - Man Roland.

!! SPOILERS - Do not read this chapter if you have not read the above. !!

A chapter easy to write but emotionally difficult to complete. This is the final chapter of Thibaut, the first character that I finish. A twinge of sadness and humor to the bottom of socks. And to think that all this was written because of a foggy morning.

Music Inspiration: Hans Zimmer - Injection.

Chapter XXVII. Thibaut - Man Roland
He wondered if the horned god had come to welcome him on earth. The fog was so thick that could not see twenty yards. Yet, he galloped straight ahead, on the lines burgannes. He heard them, their drums sounding constantly accompanied by what he knew horns. Thibaut was confident the Burgan were too proud to mount an ambush and there was no fog or crush them.

He heard the pounding of hooves all around and behind him. A racket of hell, and yet he saw only the riders who stood beside him, the others were as ghostly shapes that appeared sometimes before disappearing back into the curtain of fog. Leaning on the neck of his horse, his highly bacinet Shaken, he thought back to the bitter past few weeks.

Everything, everything had failed due to a single person: Orlamünde Forcefer. A grain of sand that had swept all royal. This beautiful dog was instilled fear in the heart of the best disciplined army of the civilized world. Half the men had witnessed the killing of the prince and half the nobility. What to do against an enemy they can neither see or touch? Theo did not answer and he believed that the campaign was a failure.
It should not be alone in the case because most noble survivors had withdrawn their troops, they returned to the country or to Valars. Those who remained had been arguing for control of the army which would not help in any way the moral of it. Discipline was relaxed and there was not much. He tried to put that time used to understand the motivations of Roland. The latter observed a silence and smiled slightly disturbing contrast to his usual.
- You know her? Thibaut asked one evening when they drank wine under the stars.
- Not personally ... "he replied absently.
- Sometimes I the impression that you hate her, she gave you something?
- Ah because she gave you that you do nothing? She comes to destroy every chance of winning this war .
- I'm not talking about that
Roland's eyes blazed
- What do you care, kid.
- I worry.
- Worried? What difference does it make? I do not want your pity. My entire family was massacred by Forcefer. One day they will pay.
- Ah ... I'm sorry.
- Sorry, that's all you can do, I would not have been there you'd still be sorry to Montveilh in a dungeon. I spent years working out, plan to spy on the court, to get closer to them to uncover their faces marked by infamy. Years he contemplated ...
the sparkling of the drink in his cup.
- Who are you? Really? You're not the son of the Bishop of Rochefaud is not it?
- Not really, even if the old man bent with good comedy.
- So?
- What?
- Who are you?
- Mèle you this that you look.
- You, you know everything about me.
- For what it is to say there 's a nobliaux.
- Fuck you.
Roland smiled for a moment thought he had found his Thibaut friend.
- Roland Lapert to serve you, then it is rather you who should do .
It was comedy, getting up and making a bow, elbow raised as if holding a long silky wrapper.
- Stop the bullshit! Go tell it to me.
They laughed and drank a little, mocking the new character of Roland. He had not expected to never see him again. The next day, Roland had disappeared, he had won its package without leaving any trace. Nobody knew where he had disappeared. Only two hours later realized that Thibaut Luclin also missed the call. He realized how he had seen as a giant piece of furniture that accompanied him everywhere. A poignant sense of loneliness swept over him. Those he thought were his friends had disappeared, they left without him. Returning to his tent, he collapsed on his bed and discovered a note under the pillow. " kid, go home. Roland friendships. "
He envisioned a moment, to find what remained of his family, cry a little in the arms of his mother and tighten Sorj and Eliana in her arms. Then he went to the air and there he saw his men, then men of Frida. It is for her and they continued fighting. Some of them had wives and children they wanted to return and yet they were still there, for the honor. Something that nobody could take them away. He could not decently back to Frida cover of dishonor, it would not accept it. He had to rest and watch what he was capable.
It was a few days since we announced a column burganne coming straight for them. That morning, when he arrived at headquarters, there were only two nobles who looked into lapdog, all others had fled, and probably these two women were only waiting to see which of them would remain the longest. He decided to take matters in hand.
" must meet them, there's nothing left for us here. "

is an army six times smaller than its arrival which left the outskirts of Pylos, leaving behind a vast majority of his stuff. The plain was strewn with garbage, tents collapsed and siege weapons abandoned. Thibaut sent messengers to request reinforcements or Telon Valars whether to go that far, hoping that the troops Would there to hear his appeal. The first reports of scouts reported a massive enemy army, stretched for miles. Jumper harassing their right flank tirelessly but the losses were enormous. Nearly half of the scouts did not fit the mission, making each mission more difficult to find volunteers. They had barely put the camp's first day as the news arrived.
King Kylios I had crossed the Synd and heels. It changed the deal, he could not decently in combat with the enemy in the back. Yet he was reluctant to flee. He wanted at all costs avoid the clash with the Southerners, if they acknowledged this could be catastrophic for his daughter, worse if caught would be hanged as a traitor. You had to go forward, pushing through the lines burgannes, join the main army with a victory and allow the southerners to cope with remnants of barbarians. He looked at the candle wavered over maps, he would write a farewell letter? No, they would succeed, he must have liver in their business.

flag flapping in the wind. He Burgan asked if had been warned of their arrival or not.
The air was cold and wet, exhilarating. Thibaut wondered why Roland was gone. Was it really the last descendant of Lapert? In this case, Thibaut had he been an instrument of revenge for him? It was much truth in everything he had lived? He shook hands on the hilt of his sword, he must be clean mind. Kill some Indians would do him good. The flanks of his horse were covered with scum, they should not be far now. The scouts had said two kilometers. Suddenly got up and spat forms of projectiles. Men fell on both sides. Some form had been crushed under the hooves of horses.
He realized that the horse next to him had no rider and began to slow.
" Do not slow down, do not falter!"
He hounded his best horse and suddenly he pricks. Yes, they were waiting, suddenly there was the shock. He split the enemy ranks, pushing the body, breaking down under the hoofs of his horse, he nearly empty brackets when it reared up, crushing the face of a man with a blow of iron.
The chaos of battle grew louder as the din of drums. Other men joined in the fray, pushing the Warriors Burgan. "Rather dead than Frida! "cried you it but he did not hear the answers. Were they ever so little? He spun around on his horse himself, pushing his sword and his shield the arms were outstretched. His horse was given a hatchet in the side and swerved to a stop gently. "Not now, go on, go I beg you" begged Theo. But the horse felt life leaving him, he snorted a bit and stumbled. He folded his legs and began to lie. The enemy had drawn back to leave room for the beast which leaves time for Theo to remove. He cast a glance around. Alone. Completely alone in the midst of this mass of humanity hostile. And then he began to hear above the din. " Chou Ho Ha! . The infantry arrived, finally! The Burgan ployèrent under their charge and began to recede. Thibaut scrap again, the fog prevented to know where to go. One shoved the Burgan and went his way without even trying to fight it. Another stumbled in front of him and had a look of astonishment when he planted Thibaut his sword into his belly. He suddenly realized that their soldiers fought alongside him and then others joined them. They walked together, regroup. Everything was still possible.
Women half naked out of the mist in hooting. They impaled the man left Thibaut launching short spears. Some men drew back, surprised by these demons. But they were not wearing armor, they came against the spears impale liudmarkiennes. Falling one after the other, trying to avoid the blades to be mowed down by another. Most now writhed on the floor wearing deep cuts torso or legs. The soldiers hesitated a moment before the finish, only for a moment and they planted their spears in the body. Pinning these moths that died in a sharp gasp. Then rained arrows and darts, causing considerable damage in the ranks. A cry was quickly taken up: "Poison! . The men approached, sticky shields to each other, each trying to protect his neighbor while the men hit the ground convulsed, her eyes rolled back.
Wall shield helped cut losses. The bullets came crashing into it in " Pocs " barely audible compared the incessant beating of drums. The Burgan
fleeing the fighting ranged like the plague. A reason, nobody could beat Liudmark on this ground there. But they were not helpless, they used the terrain and fog to their advantage, coming suddenly out of nowhere to kill one or two soldiers before fleeing. Not once, they had stopped this infernal music, guiding Thibaut and his men to their camp. A roar sounded
before them, the spears were placed in ear, ready to accommodate any load.
"Go Thibaut, a little ! "He repeated. Burgan
Annihilate the center, their settlement, forcing them to scatter and then join the troops on the other side. The Saints could well make it possible. He hoped that other groups were diversion on the side as expected.

Then he pricks, another wave of Burgan, accompanied by men and women who were not. They were armed with short swords and pitchforks. What were they doing in the middle of the wild? Thibaut beckoned his men to slow down. He could not believe his eyes but he looked the armor was recognizable. A spotless knight of Saint-Royan, what was he doing here?
At this point, Thibaut realized he had made the wrong choice. The Saints themselves, repudiated its action. He had no time to say anything or even to hope that a dialogue was initiated and the melee of men died. Short swords were devilishly effective to cut the poles and spears, forks, they served to flatten the ground. The Burgan them threw their heavy axes, most planting himself in the wood shields in some splitting. Thibaut
received a blow on the head, his helmet enclosing the bulk of the shock but he remained an instant rang. He began to mumble, "Sorry, sorry." His weapon trailed at the end of his arm and he walked toward the white armor which was all his childhood dreams. A spade is stuck in his groin, folding it in half in shock. A kick him from behind but the fatal shot did not come. He felt the blood flow through a sudden and wet his shoes.
He lay there, the men stepped over and fell around him. His men. He began to hear other cries. " Retreat! Stand back, all is lost! "but he did not realize what that meant.
The sky cleared, the Saints were really in the game. He had no strength to raise their hands to protect the eyes of the first rays of sun. A Southern man obviously found him delirious and talking to himself half an hour later. Thibaut was livid, his eyes rolled back almost battled to stay open, the blood formed a pool around him and he believed that his bladder was also released. Anyway, he no longer felt his legs.
Man, big, nose too long and the hair falling over her eyes and leaned observed a moment. He smiled warmly
and this made a lot of good to Thibaut.
- A message for a friend?
Thibaut battle, shaking his head, trying to articulate something and show her ring at the same time. There were so many things to say, he did not die.
man had a mocking grin.
- Too bad, should have thought before.
He planted his dagger in his neck, her beautiful blue eyes were cold and emotionless.

It's crazy what you put as time to die, can we have such regrets at this point, this one feels alone. Thibaut gasped, blood filled his mouth and choked him gently. It was worried about it already, pain abandoned, leaving him alone with his last thoughts.
" I come home, mother, Frida said that I love. Told him that I tried that ... tell her I loved her again. You think I shall see papa? You think he shook proud of me? Is Liliana always wants me to have broken her doll? I miss her so much. Sorj too? Mom said you love me huh? Mom? "

Can You Have Bleeding 10 Years After The Meopause

The Avenger - Chapter 26. Arnulf "Twisted-Rabbit" - The duel

A chapter written fairly quickly, and Arnulf Saymar have always easier. :) A fight
necessary for a chapter that was not really. Strangely I drag myself, I'm afraid approach the end, I let my characters have a little time before the big jump. This chapter thus marks the end of the penultimate round, I attack the finish line soon.

photo Erlend?

Music of Inspiration: Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells / Corvus Corax - Furatum Alci Provinciam

Chapter XXVI. Arnulf "Twisted-Rabbit" - Duel
burganne The army snaked over tens of kilometers. From the air, it would resemble a gigantic serpent. Indeed it was the tribe that took care of snakes recognition today. Their small size advantage over the marshland and allowed them to fare better deal with ambushes enemy. They avoided any direct confrontation, their light cavalry harassing their flanks and their foot soldiers were working to sabotage the bridge. Arnulf could not move his men quickly, the column stretched already too. In addition, we had to make many expeditions into the surrounding villages to recover food to all this little world. Not to mention the Southern ...

The glittering knight assured him they were not a threat, they just wanted to enjoy Protection burganne as the iron men were close. Arnulf could not see them as allies and he railed about having to feed them without receiving anything in return. According to Knight, they had appointed the warriors of the princess, in connection with a princess of kingdoms further south who had been abducted by the men of iron. Arnulf had of course asked if the virgin bloody could be that same person but since nobody knew where it was it was not much more advanced. His army was channeled southward to what he thought was an enemy force important. The southerners were strange people, they drink to your heart without having anything to celebrate the next day and hung livid at the bottom of column with the beasts, splashing through the mud. They still managed to attract the sympathies of the tribe of panthers, Alwin told him that it was mainly due to the warriors who accompanied them and also some men. Mix a little blood Burgan would not hurt. He had slept with her recently, she had not hidden his desire to him when she knew superbly advances of other warriors. She also knew it had left to do that through weakness and not by love.
This does not seem to embarrass her, maybe she had need of carnal and savage as it was and they made love. Maybe it was just because she wanted him to stay strong and that he needed this outlet to brave the trials of recent times? Why he felt so guilty then?
warriors do not generally deprived themselves to violate or take mistress, it was part of the business as much as combat. In addition, Alwin was not anyone's status prevented him from taking her husband and then in the end it had raised its seed. She understood better than could ever do and yet his wife, yet he believed in the unique and steadfast love. He was so proud but she was not there and could not understand the evil that was eating, he should already have killed for that. Kill again and again, until the faces of known and unknown dead come visit us at night and exact revenge. Today is not different, it would still be a face to add to the crowd that awaited the premises of sleep.
Irkan. The young man was sowing discord, arguing that Arnulf was no longer able to lead, it became soft and weak. The young man had many qualities but he tended to forget his place and ran after the honors too. His sharp tongue had already done too much harm. The men began to doubt their leader, they do not understand why they did not kill the prisoners, why the crusade to the south turned into interminable long walk and why they avoided the fight. He shrugged his shoulders, no matter if they understood or not but they had to obey. Today Irkan had the opportunity to prove his value and he would not dare pass up, he had to keep alive. Arnulf, however, considered that the young man had little chance to win, he had too little combat experience and friendly duels that he had done nothing equaled in a fight to the death.
However, his opponent was younger, more agile and could very well outweigh its strength. Arnulf then envisaged the defeat for a moment. He shook hands and handed it to him. "Your eyesight! "He muttered. Thirty-six years. This is the first time he was planning to grow old quietly. His father kept repeating when he was young: " The best you can hope for is to leave before your children. " Her children, Arnulf had never seen them live and he wanted to do, see them laugh and carry them in his arms. The gods they let the opportunity to see them grow? He was determined, he would kill ten as Irkan if necessary.

is a timid sun that greeted the duel. Long black clouds streaked the sky, giving it a dark color like a sunset. Arnulf already sweating, cold drops fell from her armpits. The Burgan formed a wide circle around them. The silence was heavy, the moment was serious and only a neutral and impartial tribe designated by the parties involved had the right to play during the fight to prevent cheating or influence from the clans involved. By mutual agreement, the choice was the tribe of Serpents, Arnulf had even given the mission to scout the Panthers today. He did not want qu'Alwin is present and can react if things go wrong. They were too close and intervention on his part could mean a clan war. Y'avait it here and then Y'avait fear she died, leaving their child alone.
He flexes its muscles, her eyelids twitched a bit of sleep deprivation.
Irkan through the crowd and stood facing him. His body was coated with oil and he wore war paint. Snakes began to play their ties to flutter clear sound accompanied by wooden xylophones. Irkan smiled and greeted his audience, makeup cursive which surrounded the eye made him look more terrifying and at the same time allowed to distract the opponent.
Arnulf does not take offense, he just says that the oil would make the fight a bit more sporty, it would have to move fast to get to keep a grip on a slippery fish.
They began to turn around, all eyes are crossed, each trying to guess who would make the first move. Arnulf
moving crab, arms ready to embrace his enemy, he refused the ritual knife, persuaded him not to need it. This would have disrupted, with his strength he was not accustomed to fighting with weapons so small. His opponent, him, held him at arm's length, slightly elevated, ready to dive over. Suspecting that patience was not the highlight of the young man he awaited the first attack, his bare feet feeling the ground beneath his feet. The serious faces around them became blurred as it was focusing on his opponent. The minutes seemed like hours, the two men breathed quietly but their forehead was adorned with drops of sweat.
Irkan lunged suddenly missing Arnulf surprised by a direct blow to the heart. It retreated hastily, collecting a cut in the process. Thus, the young man tried to get it over quickly, it did not take unnecessary risks and do not seek to prolong the suspense. He may be smarter than he looked where he had received advice from wiser than him.
The sky was covered with more and more, giving the scene an air of doom. The spectators held their breath, many people were perched on bales of straw to see better. Irkan attacked again, this time down, he grabbed the hand Arnulf but the oil made the decision slippery and he could not stop the arm in time. Already two notches, one torso, one on the bicep, it was a lot for a first pass weapon, especially since this kind of injury fine itched every time he moved.
The young man attacked again, decided not to take the battle to push his advantage and forced Arnulf to avoid his shots one after the other, often narrowly.
It continued to bide his time, he received more and more cut and even received a much more serious side but when the moment seemed propitious it veered onto the side, grabbed the hair of the young man and shot him a sharp blow, ripping a bunch. Sacred attributes to his tribe, the other could not help but get excited and tried to spit on the offensive.
- You're too concerned about your appearance, child, all your jewels will never transform into a rhino lion.
- Yet it should not be much to the lions to become slugs, grandfather .
whole clan of Lions stiffened at the insult, some carrying their weapons in hand.
Irkan, hateful, did not even seem have noticed the commotion he had caused. He attacked again and again covering his opponent other stripes, he even managed to touch the face by grabbing the beard of Arnulf. He had managed to push his arm just in time before sending a great knee against his thigh.
The young man was more cautious now that he was limping slightly. Blood covered the face of Arnulf, forcing him to wipe his eyes from time to time.
It began to rain and Arnulf thanking the gods. He felt better, the rain cleaned the blood and also allowed him to satisfy the thirst that tormented him. He smiled, the sleeping lion had finished his nap. He threw a few fakes
, attacking the right to launch his left arm. He had already managed to break her opponent twice but not yet in the grip firmly. The gods were on his side, he was certain. He drew more and more cautious now Irkan preferred retreat. The circle of spectators opened before them, the music was light and seemed to give a grade metal drops of rain.
one headline, Arnulf struck his shoulder holding the knife and took the element of surprise and struck a resounding slap the young man. The rain became more dense, water flowing in narrow trenches in the mud beneath their feet. Arnulf Barefoot had an advantage on a wet and muddy. Irkan flank attack, attempting to circumvent the right. Weakened, slipping, he was too slow. Arnulf welcomed its move to better able to grab the young man. The knife plunged into his side, he just hoped he did not touch any vital organ and clenched teeth, growling, twisted the necks of the young man that he had not seen fit to oil. He lifted from the ground, he sent back a young man crashed into him on the ground now that the fist was still holding the weapon. Irkan touched the ground in a crunch while his wrist was broken and he let slip a dagger into the mud. Combative, he tried as best they could post up in the face of Arnulf but it no longer played.
He shook his grip on his foot and saw Irkan fly again, sending him crashing face in the mud and slide over one meter. Sounded a bit it did not have time to recover Arnulf was already on it, grabbing it by the hair and pulling her head back.
- Declares package, without becoming a clan and promises never to return to earth burganne and you will live. What
for Burgan was worse than Arnulf's death but was reluctant to shed the blood of his people. Muddy face, the young man coughed and spat, revealing his white teeth in a grin.
- Die old.
Arnulf was happy to see that he behaved like a true Burgan before death. He grabbed the head Irkan under his arm and whispered:
- You're a brave man, I'd rather have you as my son as an enemy. Keep a place for me with the gods.
- Me not .
He shortened the agony by crushing his nose in the face. Qu'Irkan the last look at him was a thank you before the pain does so hiccup and turn our gaze to the heavens that he alone could see.
Snakes had stopped playing, he looked sullen faces around. Nobody was happy, a man, a warrior, a brother, a friend had died. His leadership role is no longer disputed for a time but he paid dearly for his victory. The adrenaline was gone, leaving him reeling, weakened. He refused the outstretched hands of his men and limped to his tent. He had lost much blood, how could he fight. The gods would they abandon it now?
Alwin was waiting outside her tent, she quickly slipped under his arm and helped him to enter.
- How Co ... ?
- You really thought I was not aware of?
- But you did not come to see?
- I know the rules just like you, and I prefer to let the grumpy old lions do what they want, they always come back home.
- Thanks.
He loved this woman, he realized. He touched her breast, a smile.
- Hands off the old, you're not ready.
- I'm not that old.
- You have white hair.
- Oh ...
- What will we do now?
- It continues to the south. The gods guide us, otherwise I would not have won today. We will find out this bloody virgin.
She smiled.
- If I was not aware of your antics, I could believe it's you.
- I have mine so bad?
- Terrible, you'd see a goat eaten by wolves. she said, kissing her. A tear rolled down her cheek.
- Are you crying?
- To see you alive, old fool.
- my wife ...
- Shhhh. She put a finger on her lips and then went upstairs.
never thought he would still have the energy for it, and yet he was not sure which of the two most tired one at that wild ride. He fell asleep just after a dreamless sleep and left him dead quiet.