Ciarin TutVeronica laughed as the handsome man led her across the ballroom, his dashing smile and his fast steps across the dance floor made her heart race. Occasionally she would notice a blurred face as she spun and twirled as they danced faster and faster.
Faster and faster they danced, until she became as light as air, faster and faster they danced until they lifted up in the air. Magic … Veronica beamed, the man smiled and they danced. The walls and the roof of the Ballroom folded away and they danced, higher and higher into the Night sky.
The Night sky beckoned and the stars shone bright, still they danced higher and higher lifting over white puffy clouds. The man pulled her closer and as they embraced their dance slowed down. She was content in his warm embrace.
Something changed and it felt wrong, he was holding her tighter, and she was struggling to breathe.
“You’re hurting me … let go …†She pushed at him until she could lift her head. His smile had turned into a sneer, his eyes cold and his touch even colder. His mouth opened wider and wider and rows of teeth yellow and stained bore down upon her. His hands turned to claws and they pressed into her as his grip tightened.
Veronica tried to scream, but his embrace left her dizzy and out of breath, she mustered all the strength she could and freed her arms. She went for its face and dug her nails deep, pulling with all the might she could muster she left deep gashes, a foul pungent odor assaulted her senses as yellow pus flowed down the creatures face.
The pus burned her hands, but it was worth it. Its grip loosened on her, she struggled and squirmed until she could slip from its embrace. She started falling backward; it felt like an eternity as she tipped away from it. Its cold eyes held her and its blood crusted claws reached for her. But it was too slow, she was free and so she plummeted down and down towards the fluffy clouds below.
Cold air assaulted her as she fell; fear enveloped her as she fell and so the clouds welcomed her not with a soft embrace but a cold lingering pain.
_ _ _
Veronica’s eyes fluttered open to the screams of men. She remembered now, she fell of her horse. She strained as she pushed herself into a sitting position, the cold winter snow seeping into her bruised body.
She reached up and touched the back of her head and flinched at the bolt of pain. She looked at her hand and noted the red crimson on her glove, slowly turning her head she noticed the blood stained snow where her head had rested. Frowning she lifted herself into a standing position. The world felt like it was spinning around her, she almost lost conciseness but pushed on pass the dying men around her.
She remembered …
It was early morning when they rushed the makeshift fortifications. She had ordered the line to be held but they were too many, her men loosed arrow after arrow, but the horde just kept coming the left flank fell first then the right.
Then they scattered.
She looked around her, her horse lay in the snow not too far off, hunching figures crowded over it tearing at it. They where to engrossed in their meal to notice her, she struggled through the early winter snow trying to make for the nearby forest. She was going to make it, closer she got, even closer still, yes the trees welcomed her.
Joy turned to a burning pain as she fell to the ground; she had been struck, crunching footfalls in the snow told her all she needed to know, scrambling on all fours she tried to get away. Pain shot from the back of her head as her once golden hair now rust colored with matted blood was pulled tight.
She fell backwards and lost vision for a second, as she lay in the snow, the beast slowly bent down towards her, is foul hot breath upon her. It lifted its club ready to strike the killing blow, Veronica covered her face with her arms and knew that this was it, she screamed.
The blow never came, the beast stood over her, and it had three arrows sticking out of his chest. It was staring at them in amazement before it fell backwards and bled out. Veronica felt herself being lifted.
“We have her, move out you sons of dogs, full retreat. We head deeper into the woods. Where is that bastard healer, get him NOW!â€Veronica blacked out.
Roleplay from Kaguya Fujiwara
The copse was not large, only a meager cluster of trees that broke the mostly endless plains of Ciarin Tut. But the undergrowth was enough to conceal Kaguya, Alfreid, and a couple other retainers. Fifty metres due south was a dry riverbed in which hid another handful of warriors. South again, a disused irrigation ditch with another group of men, and so on.
The last battle had gone ill, and the Fujiwara scion had commanded that her forces disperse. A difficult decision to make; Retreat was not a pill easily swallowed by Yamatai pride, but there was no sense in wasting the lives of good men. Three had thrown themselves to the wolves so that the rest could escape. Their yoroi would have to be retrieved and returned to their households after this was over, in keeping with the Yamatai tradition of preserving armour as family heirlooms.
In the meantime Kaguya watched and waited, counting meticulously the beasts as they roamed the fields seeking to sate their appetites on stray cattle or foolish smallfolk who had not had the sense to beeline home and bolt their doors behind them. Her face was slick with grime and sweat, and bitter with barely concealed frustration at her present impotency.
Still, the Countess of Ciarin Tut was not one to waste time in fruitless idling. Men had been dispatched - surreptitiously of course in ones and twos - now to scout the enemy, or to warn outlying hamlets of the approaching threat. It would not kill the beasts, but perhaps these efforts might mitigate the damage done to her holdings and people, or perhaps produce information that was of use to the rest of the army.
"Another scout has returned, milady."
"Indeed." A curt nod. No smile. "Captain, he shall be provided a sturdy branch, through which he must sketch the disposition of the enemy thus encountered."
Kaguya glanced briefly at the sunset as Alfreid hurried away. Slowly but surely, light was fading, and with it would come a sleepless and terrifying night. Her thoughts went briefly to Veronica; hopefully the Dame's surviving troops had managed to stash her and themselves away someplace safe. The Countess had no idea where they had gone, and the thought of a wounded Lurian noble - stranded within her lands without resources nor help - chafed on her sensibilities as a Lady of the Empire.
She grit her teeth and turned her attention back to counting the vile things, hoping that friendly banners would soon appear.
