/bump waiting for Ayslyn.

Carrington left the keep in Thidranki. While he appeared to be alone, this was not the case. A woman assassin...by the name of Tryal...from the most powerful guild in the war, Retribution, trailed around him.


"Stay close." Carrington said, "The Albion assassins are so eager to end my life that they will almost definately go for me carelessly. That's a fine meal for you."


She grinned and nodded.


They snuck around to the Albion territory of Thidranki, and scouted their keep. Knowing there would soon be battle death and blood, they prepared themselves.


At last, an assassin lept from the shadows at the Warden...quick to the reflexes was Carrington...he quickly evades and yelled, giving Tryal the word.


Tryal, the crimson dressed assassin lept with tigress-like agility and buried her blades deep into the back of the cloaked Albion...sending blood spurting into the air. He staggered around to meet her with his blades.


Just then, another Albion assassin lept from the shadows, but Carrington was again, too fast. He took a gash on the leg, but only minor. He clutched his spiked club and began to parry the assassin's blows.


Blood sprayed onto the lush green ground as the first assassin fell to a neck-shot by Tryal's blades. He quickly stepped over the corpse and dug her poisoned weapons into the side of the woman assassin that was now deep into battle with the warden. She screamed and neared death.


At last, Carrington reared back, raising his spiked club into the air, and with one fluid motion, brought it down upon the head of the poor lass, splintering her skull...causing her head to mush...killing her instantly.


Carrington limped and Tryal helped him toward some shelter behind a tree. He quickly tended his wounds and prepared for more death.


"This is only the beginning of our night."


She smirked and nodded.

 

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OOC: OK...nice little story there Carrington. How about you tell the truth now? You know about when Kheslyn (infiltrator) and Enos (scout) took you and your assassin friend down! MUAHAHAHAHAA!!

ooc: That's coming...for the love God. <snicker>

 

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Carrington and Tryal regained their strength.

The crimson assassin slipped into the shadows.


"Stay here. I thought I saw the door open...I'm going to scout."


Carrington nodded and slipped out from behind the tree, ready to back her up if she needed it. At last, she slipped out of sight leaving the Warden alone.


"A dangerous situation this is, Whitethorne." he thought to himself.


And just as he did...SHHWWW THUNK!


An arrow punked harmlessly against his shield. Surprised, he looked around, but could see no one.


PSSSSHHWWWWW SHIP!


Another arrow soared through the air, this time, grazing harmlessly across his armor.


He raised his voice to yell to Tyral...


SSSHHHHHHWWWWW THUDD!!!


Carrington screamed in pain as the stout arrow buried true into his arm. Another.


SSSHHHHWWWW THUNK!


Directly into his left leg. He stumbled to the ground.


"TRYAL!!!" he screamed.


"CARRINGTON!" she screamed, but was too far away to be of any use.


At last, Carrington spotted the Archer...a familiar looking man. He began to drag himself toward him...but as he did, a woman assassin lept from the shadows and buried her blades deep into his shoulder. He howled in pain. This couldn't be the end. It couldn't be.


PPSSSHHHHWWWWW THUUD!!!!!!!!


Directly underneath the arm as he raised his raised his weapon arm to fight. Powerless, he fell to the ground.


Tryal at last lept from the shadows, but it was too late. Arrows fluew true, and poisons found their mark. She fell soon after.


With a bow, the two assassins left them for dead. Carrington dared not move...if he did, they would almost definately behead him. At last, they were out of sight.


With all the strength he could muster....arrows protruding from his body, he drug himself over to Tryal, and wrapped his arms around her. He drug her for what seemed like hours...along the water, back toward the Hibernian base.


He was running out of energy. He couldn't possibly do it any longer. Bleeding, and most likely near death...the poison setting in, he began to feel sick. He lost conciousness.


Tryal, with her remaining strength began to shake him.


"Carrington?! CARRINGTON!"


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Carrington awoke the next day in the infirmary. Whitethorne, was still alive.

 

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OOC: Not for long Whitethorn!! Not for long!!!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!

OOC:


Bastard! It's WhitethornEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! E! !!!!!! EEEE!!!!!


<shakes his fist!>


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Anyway, the wonderful thing about this is that none of us can 'actually' die...which just means this is going to go on and on forever. Game on! /beckon

 

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Macivor finished fastening the writ of bounty to the door of Ye Mug. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. The poster read:


"By Royal Decree


King Constantine of Albion has placed a bounty in the amount of 5 copper pieces on the head of the traitor


CARRINGTONNE WHITETHORN.


The bounty can be collected at the Defenders of Albion upon presentation of the offender's severed head."

<snickers>


Tell me...were you inspired by the semi-popular Richard Dean Anderson character?

 

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Quiet you, or I will slay you with a toothpick, a wad of chewing gum and a litre of kerosene.