OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part 11

[brave_kreyu]

They are camped in the woods not too terribly far from a road.

Sometime early in the morning, Skellig hears a horse drawn wagon accompanied by men going down the road. He hears a wheel come off the wagon, hears the guards curse, hears wings the size of his own slam against wooden bars.

The wave of despair from the winged one is almost palpable.

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[27_53]

It is not entirely clear what wakes him first - the wave of despair that ripples across his senses, the loud slam of the wagon body as it threatens to tip, the nervous shout from the guard who holds the reins as the horses stamp their hooves, angry and unsettled. But the moment all of it hits him he is wide-awake, startling slightly beside her.

His hand automatically and instinctively goes to her lips, pressing his fingers gently across them in a stay quiet way as she stirs hurriedly, concerned as he tips his head to listen hard.

"Don't let the horses startle, you idiot! Hold the reins tighter!"

The shouts do not require any 'extra' effort to hear, but it is not the guards he is interested in. There are feathers. Wings. A panicked rattle of chains, a whimpering breath drawn into shaking lungs. His face contorts into a ripple of emotions that Kreyu will see wash over him - anger, concern, worry...a hint of hope?

"Several armed guards. Wagon. Horses. Wheel's come off, up around the next bend in the road," his voice is a low whisper, as he removes his fingers from her lips. "They have a captive." His voice breaks a little. "With wings. Like mine."

[brave_kreyu]

"We will give them ample reasons to regret holding such a captive," she whispers, an angry growl in her voice. She can feel the hope and her heart aches when his voice breaks just that little bit.

"I would take dragon shape, but that would terrify the horses and they might harm the captive in their panic. Winged though, I think, so perhaps the captive is less afraid?"

[27_53]

With the fact that they were sleeping in a very basic camp, both of them are still relatively clothed - the only thing that he needs to pull on and lace up are his boots. He is already sitting up, reaching for them as he continues to listen and debate their options.

"Dragon would be too much," he agrees. "Wings...might also be too much, but I don't know for sure. The horses are not young, seen a lot. Energy is more irritated than anything, with the way the one holding the reins keeps yanking at the bit in their mouths..."

He's talking as much to her as he is to himself, calculating and planning. They do not have to rush much. "A spoke of the wheel is broken. They will have to fix it first before they can remount it, continue on their way." Which they will definitely NOT be getting the chance to do so.

[brave_kreyu]

"Yanking on the bit like that won't help, even I know that," she mutters. Kreyu is lacing up her own boots.

"Could always show our wings after, I suppose," she muses. "A bit like I did with you."

She finishes one boot, starts on the other. "They're probably one of the Winged Folk, the captive. Although I didn't think one of their tribes was anywhere near here..." She frowns, wracking her memory.

[27_53]

"They are a long way from their tribe. Been held for some time. Very hungry. They aren't being fed decently," Skellig growls and stands, grabs for his coat - and then glances at her. "I will refrain from ending them all at once."

Not that he would be likely to do such a thing regardless, but the thought and feeling, the urge has struck him with the more he hears. He offers her his hand. "Walk with me?"

[brave_kreyu]

"I would not mind if you did," Kreyu tells him, honest. She smiles, but it's a predator's smile, a dragon's smile. "We will rescue them, care for them, help them home," she promises Skellig.

She slips her own coat on.

[27_53]

Once his coat is on and they are on the way, Skellig decides that perhaps moving along the road would be less 'threatening' than if they were to randomly appear from the woods like two apparitions striding out from between the trees.

And while he fully intends on being threatening (and violent) he will try his best to do that after they have fully assessed the situation.

"I know you wouldn't," he replies, with his own smile that faintly matches hers - one that he does not show very often, the sharpness of the beast creeping in around the edges. (He is NOT a Beast, he is NOT like Them but things are different, here...)

[brave_kreyu]

There is much cursing coming from around the bend as they walk down the road. People blaming one another for the wheel breaking and for not fastening things down properly which has caused much of the tribute cargo to slide all over the place! The horses are restless, stamping, and unhappy.

Kreyu frowns at the mention of tribute, wondering which local ruler they were headed for.

The captive is inside something that looks very much like a giant birdcage built of solid wood. It's impossible to see in right now, as it's covered with thick fabric. The fabric might be for concealment, for warmth, or both, it's hard to say.

The captives breathes are still shaky, their heart fast, chains rattling as they move inside the cage.

There are six guards, heavily armed. One is holding the horses, and the rest are trying to fetch the wheel and maneuver some heavy chests, one of which has come off the wagon entirely!

[27_53]

It is the chains that anger him the most, and their sound is easily discernable among the other many noises that are filling the air as the wagon nearly comes into view. There are enough guards that it would likely take Kreyu and Skellig a few moments to get rid of them all immediately, but if they do that, then they may not be able to gather information that could be useful later.

Instead, Skellig decides to put on the air of 'helpful local' and raises a hand in greeting, calling out as they come around the last curve.

The guards startle, concerned - are these thieves, come to try to raid the tribute they are transporting?

"We mean you no harm," Skellig says quickly, voice oh-so-calm despite the emotions Kreyu can feel running through him. "We live just up at the end of the road a ways, and heard the crash. Wanted to see if we could help at all, and make sure nobody was injured?"

[brave_kreyu]

The guards mostly buy Skellig's story. There are only two of them, after all, it would be foolish for them to take on so many armed soldiers if they were thieves!

The one who seems to be in charge looks surprised. "I didn't think anyone lived all the way out here." He turns, looks over the others briefly. "Don't think anyone is injured, but unless you've got another wheel that will fit the wagon I don't think you can offer much help."

One of the others mutters. "First a rockfall in the pass, now this. I told you we shouldn't have agreed to take the de.."

"Shut your mouth!" the leader snaps at him, angry.

"No wheels," Kreyu slips in after the leader's outburst, her own voice calm despite her anger. One of the guards is blushing, a bit flustered at her being so close to him, as she crouches to peer at the broken wheel. "And I doubt you'll be fixing this one any time soon."

[27_53]

"Her opinion is likely much more useful than mine," Skellig 'admits', holding up his hands. "Too many seasons of working among the river's edge, have left me unable to do much with these."

Even though his hands don't currently hurt or ache (they truly haven't, not since she first washed them with her blood and swore they would never feel pain again) he knows how to hold them so that they look stiff.

"I would say head for the village, but even if you were to unharness the horses, ride rather than walk - it is still quite a distance to travel." He frowns - then glances, 'naturally' curious towards the fabric covering the wagon's contents. "And you would not be able to carry your cargo."

[brave_kreyu]

The leader frowns. "Can't leave it, they'd have our damn heads," he mutters. "Havel, Krait, get two horses unharnessed and take the lockbox with you. There's got to be another damn wagon somewhere in this forsaken wilderness."

Kreyu rises, concern about the stiffness of Skellig's hands not entirely fabricated. The blushing guard is ogling her a bit as she walks toward Skellig. "Are they aching fiercely again, love?" she asks, tone soft but pitched to carry.

Havel and Krait get two horses unharnessed fairly quickly, toss the lockbox up onto the back of one of the horses.

She gently takes Skellig's hands in hers, holds them.

One of the guards gives Skellig a look, mutters 'lucky old bastard' under his breath.

[27_53]

Skellig is not at all concerned by the thought of 'losing' the two men on horseback, if they ride off - they would quite easily be able to catch them, and while he has curious thoughts about what exactly is in that lockbox - since they are only sending two men with it while the other four remain at the site of the wagon, it can't be that valuable in comparison.

"A bit," he admits with a heavy sigh. "Thank you, my love. You know how they get when the chill sets in, as the sun begins to rise later in the day..."

[brave_kreyu]

She gently rubs Skellig's 'aching joints' with her hands as if to help soothe the pain. The two men on horseback take off quickly, and the four guards who remain are beginning to think of Skellig and Kreyu as 'useless but not a threat'.

She can hear the captive's chains, their wings, and she keeps imagining Skellig in their place. The thought makes her so very angry, but she controls herself.

When she judges that those on horseback are too far away to hear any screaming, she speaks so soft that only Skellig will hear her. "Shall I kill them for you, darling?" There's a touch of violet, the dragon, showing in the brown of her eyes.

[27_53]

Nodding softly, he exhales and brings their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers - for several reasons. First, because she will have blood on her hands very shortly, and he would rather kiss them before that happens. Second, because he knows while killing does not bother her like it does him - especially in an instance like this, where it could very easily be him in those too-tight chains, kept cloaked in the dark, afraid, so very afraid...

"Will be faster if you do it," he says. "Keep my energy cleaner. Might need it that way, to help after."

[brave_kreyu]

The leader and two of his subordinates are trying to lift the heavy chest back onto the wagon. Convenient.

She is less elementally attuned than many dragons, but Kreyu IS a shadow dragon. She pulls a shadow into a blade of violet energy, unnaturally cold. Their breastplates are heavy bronze, designed to protect them from enemy weapons. She drives the blade up and under the ribs of the leader, deep into his heart, the blade acting as though the armor doesn't even exist. The subordinates are slow to react, to try and draw their weapons and meet her attack and so they suffer similar blows in turn.

The armor contains the mess, the spilled blood, so she's still mostly clean as she turns to face the last guard. He's scrambling backwards, has drawn a bow, is eyeing Skellig in a calculating sort of way that Kreyu doesn't like at all.

Her eyes are solid violet as she glares at the guard. "If you so much as TWITCH in his direction, your death will be slow," she promises as fire wreathes her off hand that isn't holding the shadow blade.

He freezes, paralyzed by fear and indecision. The fire draws his eye enough that he doesn't see the blade she throws with deadly force until it is much too late. It goes through his eye, into his brain, killing him quickly.

[27_53]

While Skellig would have likely easily been able to avoid any strike from the other guard's bow, he does appreciate the way that she wove her threat in between her words - there was NO question as to if the guard should believe her or not. She is a most fierce dragon, and she is his dragon...

"Much faster," he mutters, bemused as he reaches to his shoulders and shrugs off his coat - allowing his wings to come free as he steps towards the wagon, to the cage. As quick as the killings were, they were not silent - and now the Winged Folk inside is even more frightened, their heartrate a wild frenzy as they have cowered as much as they can away from the awful noises!

He touches the outside of the canvas, but does not slice it open yet. "We mean you no harm," he says. "My wife and I wish to render aid, help you from your chains and get you out of this..."

Cage. The word is difficult for him to even speak, it catches and burns in the back of his throat as his eyes sting, tears surging hot behind them. "Get you free."

[brave_kreyu]

Kreyu wipes off the blood from her hands on the heavy cloth that was covering one of the wagons to protect its contents from rain.

There is bitter laughter from inside the cage. "I do not have the strength to stop you, whatever your intentions may be." The voice sounds male and tight with fear.

Kreyu removes her own coat and manifests her wings. She unfurls them reflexively for a moment before folding them again. The fear from the prisoner is pierced by the tiniest thread of hope at the sound.

She puts her hand on Skellig's shoulder in an attempt at comfort.

[27_53]

Skellig coughs harshly as he clears his throat, grateful for her touch and the contact, pulling a thin thread of her Karma from her to weave around his heart, ease some of the ache.

"If will be easier if I cut this cloth from the top," he says, stepping aside before he jumps - easily landing atop of the wagon, with only the barest hint of sound as his feet touch the canvas and wood, wings rustling. "At least enough to see what these heathens have sought to contain you in."

It isn't exactly clear what Skellig uses to cut the thick canvas, but sometimes it is better not to ask questions. His motions are steady, swift, as he works a straight line along the top of the cage, which allows enough of it to droop that he can swing down and slice a line down along one of the corners - which gives them a view of the situation inside the wagon's cell, and the occupant.

[brave_kreyu]

The young man inside covers his eyes at the sudden light. He's lightly built, his skin tone close to Skellig's, although his wings are like a Peregrine falcon rather than an owl.

The chains around his wrists and ankles are heavy bronze things. With cruel irony, someone decorated the bronze chains with inlaid birds in flight. He hasn't been getting enough to eat lately, hunger leaving him weaker and more lethargic than he should be, and his wing muscles have atrophied a bit in captivity.

Blue eyes stare at them both in shock and desperate hope when he sees their wings. "You are winged," he says at last, words catching in his throat. "Do, do you not speak the tongue of the People?" This seems to baffle him. He speaks a few words that sound like a greeting, but neither Skellig or Kreyu can understand them.

As he shifts his wings back from being wrapped around his body, it's clear he isn't wearing anything above the waist. Not allowed to, perhaps, as that would hide his wings? A set of scars cross his stomach that look like the claws of some great cat.

"We do not understand that tongue," Kreyu tells him. "But we would be glad to learn it."

[27_53]

"Very glad. But first we must get you out of there...our camp is not far from here," Skellig says. "We have ample supplies, and I am certain there are other things here within these crates that we will take as well..."

His eyes are drifting over the wooden frame of the wagon, looking for weak spots, any points that might be able to break if they cannot manage to get the padlock that holds the door free - surely the key is on the corpse of one of the guards? But that would involve having to rifle through the...mess.

He glances at Kreyu, then nods at the bronze lock. "Can you remove that?" He flexes his fingers. "And if you cannot safely unlatch the shackles, I will look for the key among the men there."

[brave_kreyu]

"I can get them off, I think," she says, testing the bars around the lock.

"Ah, found a weak spot," she says, tone triumphant. "Skellig, could you land on top of this...thing, grab the bar I am holding near the top?"

With his assistance, she levers a bar that makes up part of the door loose, allowing leverage against the lock. A bit of pressure and the wood AROUND the lock breaks, causing the metal to fall and hit the bottom of the wagon.

"We'll have you out of there with a bit more prying," she assures the young man.

He's trembling with relief, joy, grief, the remnants of terror and despair, when they help him out of the cage.

"I, I am Tyr," he tells them. "I had given up hope.." his voice cracks, full of tears.

If Skellig can distract Tyr, or hug him, or both, Kreyu is pretty sure she can get the ankle chains off with some 'lock picking' via her claws.

[27_53]

"You had not completely given up hope," Skellig says, voice gentle - but firm. "I heard it in your voice when you spoke, when you heard our wings. It was faint, but it was there."

Moving forward - slowly, carefully - he silently 'asks' for permission to touch Tyr (not his wings, he will not ask him that yet) and when he gets it, he pulls the younger man gently into a hug, allowing one of his own wings to come up and carefully brush against Tyr's shoulder. This also obscures Kreyu's claws from view, to allow her to work at the lock.

"Well met, Tyr. I am Skellig," he says quietly, tipping his head to allow the side of it to touch Tyr's at the temple. "And Kreyu is my wife. You are safe, now. No harm will come to you."

(Ever again is implied, heavily. And it is truth - if anyone would dare to try, Skellig would ensure their death was slow and lingering.)

[brave_kreyu]

"You must have an owl's ears, to hear so small a thing," Tyr quips. He leans into the touch, starved for it.

"Well met, both of you. So very well met." He just breathes for a moment or two, trying to control his emotions. "I have never been so glad to meet anyone before."

His voice breaks a little. "I do not even know how long it has been, they kept me from seeing the sky, seeing the seasons change. One more addition to a warlord's menagerie." His voice drips with bitterness and venom at that last.

[27_53]

Skellig hums, appreciative.

"Well when you ask so nicely..." His words are low and soft, knowing that dryness her wild. "I suppose I could oblige."

Another moment of kissing and teasing with his hands, and then he considers if he would take her just like this, or if he would flip her beneath him so she is on her back...

"You ready for me, my love?"