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PostPosted: November 6th, 2007, 9:09 pm 
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Jate stared at the rushing river underneath him in terror. He wasn't able to swim well. Hopefully, this twig would hold his weight? Taking a deep breath, he set one foot on the end of the tree --trying not to think of Kjan's victim comment.

"Just look up, just look up, look up," he muttered under his breath as he inched his way along the "bridge." He wanted to close his eyes, but one wrong step.... Jate could hear disgruntled mumbling behind him, but he didn't care. Slow was how he was going to survive. One foot after the next. After ages, he hit regular ground again. Falling to his knees, Jate buried himself in the snow, not caring how cold or wet he was getting.

That is, until the cold actually hit him, and he lept up and pulled his cloak around him.

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PostPosted: November 7th, 2007, 4:22 pm 
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"Cold, cold, c-c-cold!" Ayden gasped as snow slid down his back. In an instance he had come to expect on this horrible day, he had tripped and fallen against a tree trunk. There were branches attached to the tree trunk. There was snow on those branches.

The snow fell off.

After a short little dance to get the snow out of his shirt, Ayden moved on again, clambering up a small incline. Here the trail bottlenecked--small-but-unscaleable cliff one one side, and raging river of fearsome deathlyness on the other. He would just have to stay in the middle of the path.

He reached the top, and groaned. A tree--with quite a spread of branches--had fallen from the cliff, in what was probably the one possible way to block the entire path. He could try to climb over it, but covered with ice as it was, he would rather avoid it.

He'd have to go back, to the log that had spanned the river earlier. At least that one wasn't iced over. But....there was Merrell's group. Were they coming this way? Most likely, and unfortunately, the answer was yes. Yet, he couldn't go forward, so the only direction was back.

Fifteen minutes of plodding sufficed to bring him back to the log, where the last of Merrell's group was crossing, some looking more confident than others. He didn't mind crossing logs, but he could do without the raging river of deathlyness.

Taking deep, slow breaths, he started across the log, hoping fervently that Merrell's party's murderous intentions wouldn't manifest while he was in such a defenseless spot.

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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 12:46 am 
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While everyone else crossed by their own means (ranging from overly cautious to simply suicidal), Silvryn merely stayed firmly planted in her spot as she continued to survey their supposed "crossing." She wasn't frightened, exactly - even if she was, it would never do to admit it - but she couldn't help but suspect that there was a safer way to cross the river. The water seemed to be flowing even faster here, a trait that was only emphasized by the abundance of sharp rocks around which the water was flowing, thus turning most of the surface into white foam.

The fallen tree was wide enough, and Silvryn had no doubt that if it could support the bulk of some of the men in their party, then she would have absolutely no trouble in that respect. Nonetheless, the log was liberally coated with the spray of the rapids, some of which, in the dropping temperatures, had already started to harden.

However, it wasn't as though they had much choice in the matter. Night was not too far off, and, ideally, they would reach the pass with enough time to take some form of shelter before dark.

And so, casting one final dubious glance at the rocks below, Silvryn stepped up onto the impromptu bridge. The crossing was going relatively smoothly, the same elven grace that had been evident in Eledhe's movements making Silvryn's footing steady and sure. She'd made it more than halfway across when suddenly....Splash.

An invisible patch of ice swiftly rendered the final heir to Kytana's throne subject to the mercy of the raging river.


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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 1:03 am 
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The splash was almost inaudible over the din of the water beneath, but the Phantom half-turned on some instinct, glancing once over his shoulder -

- and swore colorfully, dashing to the cliffside with enough expletives to plentifully populate a stable. "Silvryn! - seven levels of the underworld - Eledhe, get me that rope!"

His alarm was evident in the complete lack of a deferential 'milady', and the fact that he was spouting obscenities such as would have horrified his mother to no end. The rapids foamed over enough sharp rocks to skewer a boar, enough rocks to -

He groaned aloud, pausing in his frantic rush along the bank to search the water more thoroughly for a sign of her. "Silvryn! Eledhe, curse it, where - "

Eledhe shoved the rope into his hand. "Throw it! We might as well be dead if she drowns!"

The Phantom was cursing steadily under his breath and completely ignoring her. He flung the length of line out across the water, shouting hoarsely, "The rope! Silvryn, the rope!"

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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 1:52 am 
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Ash, meanwhile, was of no help whatsoever. He had managed to safely cross the log, even though his fear of heights had chosen that moment to resurface. When he reached the other side, he had firmly planted his rear end in the snow, not caring how cold or wet it was. He didn't intend to move for quite a while. Soon, though, the cold and wet had gotten to him, so he stood, just in time to see Silvryn go tumbling off the log.

He supposed it had been the look on her face that had sent him into gales of laughter. She had looked so surprised and upset, as if the patch of ice had formed right there so it could trip her. The sudden flurry of activity and cursing had only complicated matters, causing him to double over, nearly choking on his own saliva.

Maybe he was just tired- that was likely it. Fighting down the laughter that still threated to burst out of him, he straightened and walked up to the Phantom's side. Silvryn didn't look to be in too much danger- she was nearly close enough to the rope to grab it- but she would be as angry as a wet cat. Or a wet noblewoman.


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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 12:32 pm 
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Ayden's eyes widened as the woman in front of him--who hadn't bothered to introduce herself earlier--fell off the log. It would've been bad enough, considering that she was likely falling to her doom, but the real problem was that when she fell off, it altered the disposition of the log's weight. Ayden lost his balance. And fell, his look of horror merely widening, just before he hit the water.

The frigid river snatched Ayden's breath away as he plunged in over his head. Flailing around, he struggled to reach the surface, encumbered by his cloak and pack. Somehow, though, he got his head above the surface, in time to take a deep breath of air, and a mouthful of water along with it.

He bumped into something else, and gasped louder than he had been doing as the river tumbled him along. Had he reached the rocks? Surely they weren't much further. But no--it was that lady who had caused his fall. He latched on to her arm, still flailing with his free hand to keep his face above water and still gasping out all of the air he breathed in.

Then a rope hit the water next to him, and grabbed at it out of reflex. He almost missed. The cold was enough to make his arms and legs go numb, and they were starting to respond only sluggishly, at best. But, he managed to grab the tail end of the rope, and held on for dear life, which was in imminent danger of going on strike. At the least, he would try to give it a raise.

With his other hand, the one not occupied by a death grip--soon to be a dead grip--on the rope, he pulled the woman forward against the current enough that she could latch on to the rope as well, since she had missed her grab.

As Ayden's hand was freed, he latched on with that one as well, and tried looking around to see what else was happening--through the spray of water, he couldn't see much, but there was Merrell on the bank, holding the other end of the rope. The rest of the group was moving a little slowly, it seemed, yet of course, the whole thing had probably taken only seconds so far. He thought about it. Or tried to think about it. His mind was slowing down as well, it seemed. Definitely more than a few seconds, then.

Through the rest of his gasps as he tried to get a complete lungfull of air, he managed to shout out for Merrell to pull them in. If he didn't, they'd be dead soon, in this water.

-----------

If that messed up anyone's plans, just send me an eBomb. And the detonator. :P

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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 7:27 pm 
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Whether by conscious effort or fate or just chance, Silvryn's hand grasped the thrown rope. She almost slipped at one point, wet rope being among the harder things to hold onto when one's fingers already felt like blocks of ice, but at last she was able to entwine her arm with the rope and get a firm enough grip to ensure that she wouldn't slip again. Now if she could just get the man to let go of her....

Kjan, having already joined the Phantom at the edge of the cliff, picked up the rope as well and began helping pull. Silvryn hardly weighed anything, but the force of the water was strong enough to make resisting it quite difficult, and they now had the additional weight of the man -Ayden?- whom they'd encountered earlier. With great effort, though, they were finally able to pull the half-drowned princess (and co.) ashore.

Silvryn lay still for half a moment, then shakily rose to her hands and knees. Everyone observed in silence as the dignified princess proceeded to cough up every last bit of river water that she had inadvertently taken in, and then promptly began to retch. Kjan, in a rare moment of thoughtfulness, removed his cloak and held it up to hide Silvryn from everyone's sight. Not until she'd finally finished emptying the contents of her stomach did he move the cloak and dare to coment, "You know, milady, I never took you for the type to play damsel in-"

"Stop talking," Silvryn cut him off, her voice dangerously low and even. Slowly, but with her customary grace, she rose to her feet and began ringing out her clothing and her hair. "What?" she demanded when everyone continued to stare, looking the closest to embarassed that Kjan had ever seen the cool, impassive princess look. "I assure you, I am perfectly fine." This claim could have been easily countered with the fact that she still looked half-drowned and had a fair number of bruises and minor cuts from the sharp rocks and random debris in the river, but everyone was prudently silent.

"Night won't wait for us to finish standing around and gaping like idiots," she said, giving her hair one final, hard squeeze. "Come, we're losing time."

It seemed that, in the horror of nearly losing the very person for whom they were fighting and the subsequent relief over finding her relatively unharmed, everyone had all but forgotten about their new guest.


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PostPosted: November 8th, 2007, 7:47 pm 
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His moments of unreasoning alarm, evident in the very memorable and startlingly varied series of expletives the Phantom had managed to plow through, were instantly absurd when Silvryn was standing on the bank looking only a little worse for wear. It was beyond him how she could manage to fall in a river and emerge looking as though she'd merely been closeted with an unpleasant dignitary.

He quirked an eyebrow at Kjan in a women-what-are-we-ever-going-to-do-with-them sort of manner, and chivalrously unpinned his cloak. Night was coming on, and it hadn't exactly been a balmy summer day even beforehand. He considered offering it to her, but abandoned the idea and just dropped the weather-beaten grey garment around her shoulders. "M'lady." Made it harder to refuse when one didn't offer in the first place.

Eledhe cast an anxious glance skyward just as gusts of less than gentle wind began to whip the already raging river into a positive frenzy. Her black cloak flapped wildly and she gathered it around her with one hand. For once - "She's right, let's go."

Turning momentarily, she raised an inscrutable eyebrow at the dripping Ayden. "I won't be offering you a cloak. Was that attempted heroics or rank foolishness, one might ask?"

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PostPosted: November 9th, 2007, 9:30 am 
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Teeth chattering, Ayden twisted his cloak to try to wring the water out of it. Now that he was soaked, the wind's formerly mild gusting took on a biting edge. The fact that he was now standing in a bunch of snow didn't help at all.

How did she, the woman who had fallen in, manage to look so dignified already? She certainly seemed to feel the cold less than he did. Perhaps he was merely more insensitive than he had thought to such things.

He returned the imperious look that the other woman was directing at him--the woman who had been called Sunshine by Kjan. "I-I f-fell in," he replied to her pompous question. "W-why would I jump into water that obviously affected m-me more than h-her?" he asked, trying to supress the clattering of his jaw.

He glanced around at them with a faint glimmer of hope--if they wanted to leave now, then they would get ahead of him, since he now needed to get a fire going before he froze to death. It would give Jaer a chance of winning, but perhaps his friend would sprain an ankle or something and be likewise slown down.

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PostPosted: November 9th, 2007, 6:43 pm 
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Eledhe shrugged and trotted to catch up with the rest, who were already moving off. She wondered, in a detached sort of manner, if he'd taken note of Silvryn's name - for certain he'd noticed her appearance by now, and it was somewhat striking even if one had only the slightest of familiarities with the royal family.

The Phantom was, not surprisingly, thinking the same thing, He cast a glance over his shoulder at Eledhe as she approached. "He looks as if he could use a fire," he commented with a jerk of his head in Ayden's direction.

Eledhe blinked. "Aye, probably. He'll be making one if he has any sense."

"That wasn't what I was getting at," muttered the Phantom, and turned. "Oy! You're welcome to share our fire."

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PostPosted: November 12th, 2007, 2:52 pm 
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Ayden frowned. Just when he thought that they might get away from him permanently, they had to go and be polite. He had been taught to always respect and return politeness. If he refused politely, it'd still be insulting, since it was very obvious that he had no quicker way of getting a fire on his own, and likewise, he wasn't going to be fulfilling any obligations any time soon. Unfortunately, their politeness made a new one--he was obliged to accept.

Grumbling under his breath and the sound of his chattering teeth, he walked toward them, trying to put on the grateful, pleasant face he used when he was introduced to people he didn't know--the people who would always hold their hands a foot or two apart and say "I remember smacking your bottom when you were this little!".

He figured that he wasn't doing a good job of looking grateful, but he tried anyway.

"T-th-thank y-you," he said, trying to overcome his feelings of trepidation and frustration--if he was lucky, he might be able to think of a way out of the corner he was backed into.

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PostPosted: November 12th, 2007, 7:34 pm 
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The Phantom just nodded and turned, aware of the rapidly darkening sky above. Shelter needed to be found imminently, and somewhere to build a fire that wouldn't be extinguished by whatever rain might be coming - which, by the looks of it, was very likely going to be a formidable amount.

The walls of a narrow gorge between mountains loomed ahead, creating a very narrow passage between sheer faces of rock. The temporary closed path, though cramped, provided some shelter from the rapidly increasing wind and rain that was now beginning to spit fitfully. It also made single file imperative, there being very little room for two to walk side by side, and also little conversation.

It made for a brief spell of time to assimilate the day's events. So far, so good, the Phantom concluded from his place at the head of the line. Aye, there'd been a few unexpected complications - namely, Dante and and Ayden - as well as an extremely tense moment or two when Silvryn had fallen. The Phantom reflected, a touch wryly, that his epithets at that point had likely been rather colorful. The only one who probably would have objected, however, had been at that moment concerned with getting out of a freezing cold, sharp-rock-laden river, so he didn't give the matter undue thought. What did occupy him slightly more was the disturbing notion of what would have happened if they hadn't had that rope handy.

The rebellion did not necessarily require Silvryn's assistance to be successful, but having a member of the royal family on your side - let alone the heir to the throne - was hardly something to sneeze at. He spent a few more minutes convincing himself that his sudden panic of earlier was from seeing the past almost-a-decade's work flash before his eyes, and had quite nearly finished when a sound caught his attention.

Thunder had been rolling for quite some time, but this wasn't thunder. It sounded, in fact, suspiciously like voices. The Phantom held up a hand to indicate a halt for those behind him and listened, frowning. Too hard to hear. He glanced at Kjan behind him and made a gesture to him to stay where he was. Then, going forward cautiously along the narrow path, he tried to listen.

Several bends later, he was out of sight of the rest, and was beginning to catch various words from whoever it was who was talking. It sounded as though there must be several of them, and they weren't taking much trouble to keep their voices down.

"...storm..."

"...what kind of idiot...when can we..."

The Phantom edged forward a little, until suddenly around the next bend he could see firelight flickering faintly, and hear voices as clear as a bell.

"I hate patrol rations," someone was saying, tone decidedly grumpy. "They all taste like frogspawn. Peasants eat better."

There was a grunt and then someone else - "Ah, shut it. 'Least we're not on palace duty. Sergeant's been as amiable as a shark since 'is prize escaped."

"If you ask me, there's no Phantom Grey...just some fairy tale to frighten peasant brats..." one was muttering.

The Phantom, who did in fact exist and was very aware of it at this particular moment, edged backward trying not to breathe. Lovely. Soldier patrol right at the end of their current path. He could really see only one way events would come to a head here.

And it involved weapons. Quite prominently, in fact.

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PostPosted: November 12th, 2007, 8:09 pm 
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Jate trailed towards the end of the line, just ahead of the newcomer Ayden. His feet had begun to go numb, and all he could focus on was placing one in front of the other. His mind wandered longingly to warm fires and roast chicken at home. The lapse of concentration found him stumbling over a large rock and into the back of the person ahead of him -the other one, Dante.

"Sorry," Jate mumbled in answer to a withering glance and an exclamation. He suddenly stopped short, noticing the Phantom had halted the party. In consequence, he got a wet, freezing bump in his back. Ignoring the man, Jateyani wondered what the Phantom was doing as he slipped further down the path.

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PostPosted: November 12th, 2007, 10:55 pm 
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Kjan, having never been exceptionally skilled at following orders, stayed where he was for all of fourteen seconds. Of those fourteen seconds, about three were spent with the full intent of complying, ten were spent considering the possible implications of not complying, and the last one was spent concluding that nothing too terrible would come of it. He had heard the sound as well, and his curiosity was piqued.

Just as the Phantom had done, he motioned for the others to stay, then silently crept forward along the path. He'd gotten about halfway to the source of the sound when he came across the Phantom, who was already making his return.

"You know, you really shouldn't frown like that," Kjan remarked quietly by way of greeting. "It makes you look older. Especially with those -what did you call them? highlights?- that are starting to come in." Tilting his head in the direction of the still-slightly-audible voices, he inquired, "Company?"


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PostPosted: November 12th, 2007, 11:40 pm 
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The Phantom nodded. "Patrol. We all have weapons - but what about Dante, and the new addition?" he muttered the last under his breath, indicating the newcomers with a jerk of his head. "Can't think of a more obvious giveaway than to attack Regent's men unprovoked."

"They're expendable," said Eledhe suggestively, having squeezed past the others to confer with the Phantom and Kjan. She tossed a black throwing star up once and caught it between thumb and forefinger.

"That option meets with the same answer it always does," returned the Phantom. "I'd rather not kill the patrol, and I won't if there's another option - definitely not them."

Eledhe shrugged resignedly. "I'm available."

He looked at Kjan, arching an eyebrow. "Well? Do we attack first and explain after?"

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PostPosted: November 13th, 2007, 12:21 am 
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"I'll admit, I'm not averse to attacking," Kjan replied, idly resting a hand on the hilt of one of his knives. This walking business was all well and good, but it honestly got a bit boring. Though he wasn't usually the sort to seek out conflict, he could make exceptions. "I agree with the Phantom, though; I'd rather not kill the patrol unless we have to. Besides, anyone can kill a few soldiers easily enough. The good rumors get started when you send a handful of soldiers back to their base in nothing but their undergarments and with considerably lighter packs."

Glancing back at the group, he started thinking out loud. "We have us three, Ash, Silvryn if she has to...Dante throws a good punch in a tight spot." He paused to gingerly touch the bruise that attested to that. "But I somehow doubt Jate's going to be interested in fighting the very men who might 'rescue' him, and Ayden...I've no idea. How many are they?"


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