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| NÃnimelle |
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| Dinenlasse |
 RE: Secrets of the Fourth Age~Please PM
on: November 16, 2010 01:46
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(OOC:: JP between Nínimelle and me!)
Raegon glared at Dirbalch's sword, his calm immediately disappearing and anger quickly boiling up. 'How dare you threaten me! I am your leader and you must listen to me. I told you to get more than one stupid lass I already captured before and you dare bring the same back.' Raegon cursed loudly as Dirbalch walked away and pulled his own sword, following the man.
'If you, by any change, want to remain living I'd advise you to do as I say. I am your master, your leader and you will do as I wish.' he snapped, stepping in front of Dirbalch.
'And may you be so idiot to leave, you might as well jump from a bridge for I won't rest until you are dead when you betray me.' Raegon snarled furiously, his eyes shining a crimson color in the brown orbs.
Dirbalch turned abruptly and faced his "master", irritation darkening his face. "I never said anything about betraying you. I do not betray, but I do not follow direct orders either. I acted how I thought best. You may not see it now, but it is for the better." In the blink of an eye, he whipped his blade towards Raegon's throat, flicking the blade up so it touched the base of his neck underneath the ear. He pressed it in a little, drawing blood. "Why is it things have come to this? What happened to the camaraderie we shared? Why must you think I'm against you?" His voice hadn't softened, Dirbalch was merely stating a fact.
Raegon's anger grew when he felt Dirbalch's blade at his throat. He inhaled deeply and stepped away from the blade, placing his own against Dirbalch's chest. 'Things have changed Dirbalch and so have we. You mustn't linger on the past, for it is dead. That camaraderie you speak of fades through the years, as you keep on coming and going. You are never at the same place for a long time. The things we saw, did and wanted have been forgotten. Our friendship, if I can even call it that, was forgotten when you left. That, my old friend, is your fault. You created my distrust by disappointing me day after day, when you never came back to restore the things that broke, our friendship and dreams.' To his surprise, Raegon spoke calmly and even softer than before. Yes, he had wanted to say those words for a long time. He had to fight an upcoming, satisfied smile.
Expressionless, Dirbalch grabbed the blade with a hand and maneuvered it away from him. The sharp steel cut through his skin, and rust-colored drops of blood splattered the ground. "What is there to restore? You owe me your life, and what have you done in return? Cursed me. Drove me away. I am a solitary man and a mercenary by trade, you know this. I hire myself out to the highest bidder. There is nothing stationary about my lifestyle, and you knew this when we met back in Gondor. Back when you were less than a tramp and I was little better. Back when I had to save your skin from the Citadel guards threatened you with imprisonment and worse for your misdeeds.
"You speak of dreams," Dirbalch continued, taking a cloth from the pack by his side and winding it about his wounded hand. "You had the dream, the desire to better yourself by diminishing the pride and honor of anyone but Men. I aided you because you paid me. I left when you needed me no more. And you tell me about something broken. What is that was broken? Your pride when you realized you could no longer pay one of the best mercenaries around? Your own finances? I am not an expensive man, but my services were worth more than the piddle you were offering me."
Raegon growled softly. 'Yes, I owe you my life. But in a friendship that doesn't matter, I thought. Yet you use it against me, as if I'm nothing better than your slave. I never cursed you nor wanted to drive you away, Dirbalch. You choose so yourself. If this is what becomes of our friendship, I would have wished you'd left me for those Gondorian men. At least they wouldn't have done this to a friend.'
He started pacing around Dirbalch, his eyes flickering a mad fire. His hand lingered on his blade, ready to fight. 'Our friendship is broken, Dirbalch. We were like brothers once, more than Saeron and I are. But it has faded, changed. Like us. You have changed a lot Dirbalch, but not in a good way. You offered me your help, and you know what I say: help or die. Yet, I don't want to kill you. In honor of our friendship.'
A crooked, humourless smile lifted the corner of Dirbalch's mouth. His dark eyes followed Raegon, the former was reminded of a tomcat on the prowl. "You contradict yourself, Raegon. In honor of our 'broken' friendship, you don't want to kill me." His own hand (though sore and bleeding) returned to his blade hilt, anticipating a strike. "We were like brothers, you say? I'd rather call us simple friends. You expected me to look out for you, and I will admit, you looked after me at all. But we do not share the same bond Saeron and you do."
His tone turned reasonable. "But this internal fighting will get you nowhere. You have your goals clear in front of you, and arguing with me will solve nothing. But," Dirbalch added, eyes narrowing dangerously, "if you choose to fight, you shall not live to see the morning." All the while he'd been conversing with Raegon, Dirbalch's other hand had been inching backwards towards the dagger he kept in his belt. Quick as lightning, Dirbalch snatched the blade and threw it at Raegon. It struck him in the shoulder, and he let out a yell. "If I had intended to kill you right now, you'd be dead," Dirbalch snarled.
Raegon was startled when the knife pierced his shoulder and yelled out of pain. He gazed at Dirbalch. 'How have we come to this Dirbalch? How has the friendship we had come to an end? I never said I wanted to fight you, neither did I ask for a knife in my shoulder. I never wanted to argue, for you are one of my best men even if I regret it,' He took out the knife and grimaced. An ironic smile tugged at his lips. 'Wish I had more of your kind, though without that fierceness.' Raegon sighed and thought before asking: 'Do you ever regret it, Dirbalch? Do you ever regret saving my life?' His voice was soft, almost....kind. He didn't want to loose Dirbalch, not as friend nor as ally.
"Pacing around me, sword aloft, eyes speaking of death, of course I was going to think you were to fight me. I merely staved off your attack." Dirbalch was taken slightly aback by Raegon's question. "I have never regretted anything in my life, least of all saving you." Dirbalch's eyes continued to follow Raegon. They might have been friends once, back when they were young and foolish. But, times had changed. Dirbalch was desensitized to war, battles, blood, and most importantly, emotions. He had no loyalty to anyone, only himself.
"Why has our friendship ended? Raegon, we've grown up. That was almost ten years ago that we met. The foolish pacts we made as lads do not hold now as they did then. Only fifteen minutes ago you were threatening to kill me. Our relationship now is strictly business, nothing more."
'Nothing more.' Raegon repeated, sighing. 'Nothing more indeed. Though, I do hope you stay here. There may be a day when, even though you might not want it, you will need me. The day I pay you back for saving me, even if you may not know the reason why you saved me or why I even got into trouble. You know nothing of me, Dirbalch. You may think of me like everyone here, cruel and heartless, and I think you do. Perhaps, one day, you'll see different. One day, we might be the friends we used to be. Not young, but still foolish.' Sighing again, Raegon let the knife in his hand fall to the ground. 'I hope you will join me in my plan, Dirbalch.' He said.
Dirbalch's tone remained emotionless. "If you can continue to pay me, I am at your side."
[Edited on 11/16/2010 by Dinenlasse]
"There is no such thing as a geek, just those who love things the rest of humanity finds weird."
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| Lucy_Took |
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| Rosie_Cotton43 |
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| gwagadoeboe |
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| NÃnimelle |
RE: Secrets of the Fourth Age~Please PM
on: March 04, 2011 11:11
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((OOC: JP between me and Dinen))
After the confrontation and obtaining his money, Dirbalch retreated to his own fire with Durroch. Exhaustion swept over him, and he leaned against the back of a large gnarled oak to steady himself. Sinking to the ground, he took out his sword, cleaned the tip, and began to grind it against a large stone. It made a loud rasping noise.
As he sharpened his sword, Dirbalch mused on the day's events. Raegon was irritating, ignorant, irrepressible, and Dirbalch was becoming increasingly annoyed with him. True, they had been close friends once, but they had matured. Raegon was holding onto childish notions of revenge and supremacy and didn't seem to realize he was only going to destroy his life. But, Dirbalch thought with a smirk, he'd have to figure that out for himself.
Rosson moved closer to the man, who was now sharpening his sword. He took a step foreward. Crack! Rosson cursed softly as he stood on a branch. Surely, the man would hear that. Cursing himself, Rosson stood still, waiting for the man to react.
A sharp sound caught Dirbalch's ear. He cocked his head slightly to catch more noise, but hearing nothing, he resumed his sword-sharpening. Durroch, on the other hand, sensed something nearby. The huge black horse whickered and turned his head slightly westward, ears flickering back and forth. With that, Dirbalch ceased his sharpening and moved to put more brush on the fire, now pretending to be unaware of a new arrival at his camp.
Rosson smiled cunningly as the man still didn't notice him. The stealth and silence of the Dunedain were on his side. He stood behind the man, laying his sword against the throat of the man.
'I wouldn't move if I were you.' Rosson commented dryly.
The sudden feel of cool steel at his neck and the subsequent threat made Dirbalch smile. He was not surprised nor startled. He had been in similar situations before and had made it out in one piece---he could not say the same for his poor foes, however.
"How idle a threat that is, friend," Dirbalch replied with a wry laugh. "You forget, in your haste to catch the element of surprise, that I possess a weapon as well." With a quick move, he flipped his sword, clutched the blade's hilt, and deftly hit the other man's arm, causing the other man's sword to lift from his throat.
Dirbalch ducked away from his foe, holding his weapon in one hand. "If you value your life, you'd leave this very moment. I have no quarrel with you, but if you insist, then your life is at stake." His dark eyes reflected the flickering flames of the brush fire. Dirbalch's tone sang with the truth. He was a skilled killer and would not hesitate to put this whelp in his place.
Rosson hissed as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. He really couldn't use this right now. His old wound was opening, he felt it. But he wouldn't go away, not without Piper.
'I won't go, unless you tell me where your master is. Your threat doesn't scare me.'
Dirbalch laughed wryly. "If you're looking for Raegon, he's thither," the man responded, pointing with his sword towards the main camp. "Now, shift yourself before you anger me."
'I won't go, while you are still here. I am not an idiot and you are still my enemy.' Rosson said, in a more stronger voice than he felt. He was much younger than the man in front of him, which could be both positive and negative.
'So either you go, or you fight me.'
What the devil? Dirbalch thought, angered and annoyed. "I will not say it again, leave me in peace. I will not fight one who has hot blood running through his veins. Give me an experienced fighter. Go find Raegon. It is with him your quarrel lies."
'I am an experienced fighter.' Rosson growled angrilly. 'I don't care were my quarrel lies, I won't let an enemy go.' He pointed his sword at Dirbalch.
'So, either you fight me or you give up.'
"You are young in the way of battle, aren't you?" Dirbalch commented dryly, twirling his sword. "You do not know how to pick your own fights. I've done nothing to provoke you. Now is your final chance. Leave me, or you will not see the light of day again. That I promise you."
Rosson rolled his eyes, sighing. 'I repeat, again, I won't go without you as captive or you dead. I am not afraid of death.' He said, more bravely than he really felt in his heart.
Dirbalch sensed the young man was full of bravado. But, he had to admit his foe suffered no lack of courage. In any case, he really did not want to fight this whelp. It would be a waste of his time and energy. "You really do not want to fight me, young 'un, I can tell. Otherwise you would have attacked me by now," Dirbalch said, outwardly relaxing, inwardly preparing for battle. He knew how to play the waiting game, that stalemate to see who would attack the other first, having done it for years. It was at this pivotal moment that either the young man who posed himself in front of Dirbalch would attack his adversary or cease his bluffing and leave.
Rosson held tight on his sword and, having thought of it all the time, he grabbed a knife from his belt. He threw it at Dirbalch and the knife pierced the man's shoulder.
'Oh I am sorry,' Rosson said sarcastically. 'Did I just do that?'
Dirbalch reeled a little from the impact of the knife's blade entering his shoulder, tearing muscle and blood vessels. But, he was not surprised; he rather expected this reaction. Grabbing the knife, he wrenched it from his shoulder and threw it into the dark. "You should've aimed lower, and I might have been dead. Lesson one, never throw a bladed weapon unless you are certain you will be able to retrieve it," Dirbalch replied condescendingly, finally approaching the younger man, sword aloft.
'Perhaps I wasn't planning on killing you.' Rosson said, eyeing the older man with a glare. Plans started to form in his mind. Would he win? This man said that he wouldn't live to see the day, but that Rosson didn't believe. He just hoped, whatever happened that Arden wouldn't help him. As his eyes wandered to the forest, he could still see the man hidden in the trees. Holding on to his sword tightly, he focused on Dirbalch's movements.
'Next time, you might think before you fight one of the Dunedain.' Rosson said, pointing his sword to Dirbalch.
Dirbalch halted in his tracks and studied his enemy carefully, noticing the man's occasional glances into the forest. "Dunedain, eh? I haven't come across one of your folk in years. If memory serves, you do not travel alone. Where are your companions?" As if on cue, Durroch's head lifted again, and he whickered, hearing something nearby. But, it could have been just another animal.
'There is no one but me.' Rosson lied, hoping Arden would just go away. 'My folk travel alone and together. So, your memory doesn't serve you. That must be age.'
Rosson once more looked behind him, as the horse lifted his head and whickered.
Just behind a tree, he could make out Arden's garb. Softly he cursed, hoping Dirbalch couldn't hear.
Dirbalch doubted the man's word, but he knew Durroch would watch his back. Dirbalch let out a gruff laugh. "You consider me old? Why, I have a feeling we're near the same age. You cannot be more than twoscore years at the latest."
"But that's another matter. What purpose do you have here?" With another man nearby, of that Dirbalch was sure, it was better to stall for time or provoke the other man to attack. The man of Haradrim descent did not particularly care for fighting in the dark, even with the full moon casting its eerie silver light upon them.
'My purpose I already said. Taking back the hobbit girl you captured not too long ago. And killing you and all your friends over there.' Rosson said. As he once more looked back, he caught Arden's eye. 'Go.' He mouthed. Then Rosson lunged at Dirbalch, swinging his sword.
Dirbalch had anticipated his foe's attack. He ducked under the swinging blade, parried it, and made a swing of his own.
Rosson spun quickly, blocking Dirbalch's sword. He felt the stitches in his shoulder open and hissed softly. Now was no time to show weaknesses. He lunged at Dirbalch again.
Dirbalch took a step back and dodged the weaving blade. He knew how to play this game; it would simply be a matter of who tired who first. But Dirbalch was exhausted from the day's events. This match might be more difficult than what the man originally thought. With a growl, he turned on his heel and dealt a powerful blow to the other man, causing a loud clanging as metal struck metal.
Rosson's blade crossed with Dirbalch's. Rosson glared at the man, sure not to give in. But then, a blade pierced his leg, and he fell down.
Raegon played with a blade, glaring at the man that fell on his knees. 'I thought you might need some help with that.' He said to Dirbalch.
Dirbalch was surprised as his foe suddenly collapsed to his knees with Raegon the cause of it. Not sure whether to be more relieved or angry at the intrusion, Dirbalch remarked, "Well met. I suppose our scuffle would not have gone unnoticed, not for the noise we were making."
'It was very much unnoticed, but since I noticed you were gone I searched for you. And even you have to admit, I just saved your life.' Raegon said, seemingly pleased with himself. He hauled Rosson up and bound him.
'Now, we are even again. You saved my life, I saved yours.' Raegon said.
"Indeed" was all Dirbalch said. "Now, what do we do with this 'un?"
'We'll take him. Perhaps he's good bait. Otherwise, some fun for the guys.' Raegon hauled Rosson up. 'Oh and Dirbalch, try to stay with the rest of us.' Raegon said, before starting to walk away. He threw Rosson next to Piper.
'Your name, Dunedain.' 'Rosson, son of Tatharion.' was all Rosson said. Raegon didn't ask more and turned. 'Where is Cara?' He wondered out loud.
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| Dinenlasse |
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