Moryan's ears perked up at the mention of reward, and she leaned over.


"Title.. oh m'farking lord.. iffen he e'en tries it.. king or nae.. he'll get the raw side o' m'damn tongue he will!"


She slipped her fingers through Carrington's and resumed drinking her ale.

And as the king held court, Lord Benowyc escorted Albricht into the very depths of Castle Camelot. Once stripped of his equipment, he was tossed in a dank, dark cell (filled with rats) and left.


There was a moment as the rats considered their new visitor before closing omniously on their prey, a terrible intelligence burning in their eyes...


------------(fade to black with screams echoing) -------------------

/Bump...cause they always bump mine

Albricht Whitethorne nodded as he heard the news of the haven being made in the Black Mountains. His eyes flashed, and he sneered. He turned his eyes to a subordinate of his and glared.


"Burn it."

 

-----signature-----

Drayton released his wifes arm a she was greeted by many, many servants who were bustling around. He quickly stepped across the room and into the far hallway, away from it. He quickly passed his was through the ze of hallways, nodding to passing patrolling guards as he went. He climbed a narrow spiral staircase and stopped at two large, oaken doors....marking the entrance to D'Vena's room.


He quickly stepped behind a large curtain and pulled the guard's armor from his body, and deposited it into a chest of drawers near by. He then slipped into the shadows behind the curtain and waited...there he would wait. It was Ravyin's turn...and he knew she would do well.

 

-----signature-----

Albricht Whitethorne squinted in the darkness of the dungeon. What a waste of time this was. He knew Basaia would soon get him out, and he was not worried. he would just wait it out until he arrived. Then....he would go through with his plans to burn the haven. As far as he was concerned, Carrington could die, and so could his wench woman. More and more Albricht become obsessed with their deaths...as if he was beginning to lose focus on what his true goal was. And there, in the darkness, he plotted murder.


However, he had no idea hundreds of tiny eyes were watching him...

 

-----signature-----

Carrington seemed lost in thought. He seemed to be ignoring both Crispain and Arguyle's connversations...just pondering. He blinked as Mory threaded her fingers through his, and he felt a deep pang of love for her. She was beautiful.


It was at that moment he realzied just how much he loved her. He thought he had known, but now, it was really sinking in. It almost frightened him. Not the feelings, but of the thought of losing her. He thought of all the plots circling them, the talk of betrayal, murder, and conspiracy.


And he decided that it needed to be ended, and ended soon. he didn't care if his reasons were selfish, because at that moment, he decided that no one, and he meant no one, would take his Love from him.

 

-----signature-----

Crispian drank more wine, very good wine, and tried to blend in with the pages and servants, but his homespun was far more plain than there splendid clothing.


He sighed, drank a bit more wine and waited.

 

-----signature-----

She waited for her mother to appear, her throat dry and aching from the fake tears she was streaming forth with. She servants didn't know any better, but her mother would. She slowly allowed them to dry, and she waited with occasionaly heavy sniffling sigh.


She tried to keep herself looking unobtrusive, but she felt the servants eyes upon her back and could almost feel their whispers as they wondered what she was doing here. Most probably had no clue she'd wed, thinking her just run away or some such rot concocted by her mother to keep the family name unblemished. She found herself standing in front of the family portraits, gazing at the pictures of her aunts. Both of them were wed to noble houses as well, but further thoughts were gone in the sharp intake of breath from Lady D'vena herself.


Ravyin turned, and saw the figure of her mother, wrapped in her silken night dress, hair slightly out of place. Even at this late hour, she found a way to look beautiful, alluring like only an Avalonian woman could. Ravyin once again felt out of place, her highlander looks making her feel big, ungainly.


Jaelyan D'vena looked at her only daughter, and said bluntly, "Thee are dead to mine eyes and mine heart child. Find thine Uncle Arguyle, thee are in his keeping now."


The young cleric had been prepared for it, but it still sliced through her heart like a knife. "Mother..mother please.. I beg thee. hear me out..I... was wrong.." and she bowed her head humbly before her, letting the tears flow yet again.


D'vena watched her daughter, and the wine and earlier frolic with young Crispian still clouded her mind a bit. She pondered, wondering if it was too late for Lord Hurbury's son to wed the girl. The letter of annulment was written, her 'virginity' could be solved with a bit of pig's bladder, not like that had never been done before.


Ravyin sensed the timing was nearly correct, and suddenly she let out the fiercest screech she could muster. Servants everywhere stopped dead and stared at the lass, and her mother's hands flew to her ears to escape the sound.


"RAVYIN! Cease that at once!" she barked out.


She only continued, dropping to the floor, making as be a spectacle of herself as she possibly could. Servants flocked from everywhere to see what in nine hells had possessed the child.


In her heart, Ravyin whispered, "Go mine love.. go swiftly."

((er.. somewhere back along the way I referred to D'vena as her aunt. No idea why. She's Ravyin's mother, not aunt. I think I got a little confused. So please. Excuse any reference to D'vena as her aunt as I can't go back and change it. She is her mother.))