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 | | From: | stormaf | | Subject: | Winter Celebrations - LTMB thread 2 - Predator | | Date: | 29 Dec 2004 21:29:14 -0800 |
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 | The vampire replied, "Because a guard is bringing him here as we
speak."
Carelya's eyes became very round with awe.
"I'm living proof that one cannot judge an individual by his or her
race,"
Sterling commented, "And Montfort law does not forbid any to walk the
streets so long as they abide by the law."
"You can't be serious!" the blind craftsman sputtered, "You MUST
destroy
this abomination!"
Sterling ignored the irate carpenter and studied Carelya. His mage
sight
did not show any signs of magic upon the young lady. Of course, a
handsome
figure such as Ajali didn't always need magic.
"Yes m'Lady," he told her, "This man is a vampire."
Then looked back to Ajali to answer his question. "Montfort does not
sentence anyone without a trial. He'd see no worse than a term in the
jail,
and only that if he's been caught at this before. Given Mage
Springer's
disposition, I suspect he'll receive no worse than a warm meal and a
warning."
Ajali smiled dryly, "I don't think that jail serves the kind of meal
that I prefer."
"They can't imprison you just for being what you are," Carelya noted,
"Or can they? Answer me truthfully --- do you drink blood?"
The vampire looked steadily at the minotaur and avoided Carelya's
gaze, "Yes I do, but I don't kill people, not unless I have to, and I
have seldom had to take what was given to me freely."
"Ye gods," Nanny muttered, "He is a vampire."
From where a pair of guards held the carpenter, there came a strident,
"I tried to warn you! Unholy creature! Burn it quickly or you'll be
sorry!"
Ajali glared at the blind man, "Really? Now that is crude."
Carelya's parents elbowed through the press of bystanders and Madam
Taverish rushed to her daughter's side. She stared with frank
curiosity at Ajali and then turned questioning eyes on Carelya.
"Good heavens my dear," she said, "What have you gotten yourself into
this time?"
Nanny piped up, "Oh nothing much. Picking up nightwalkers, getting
arrested and such – all in a lady's day." She twisted the strings of
her purse as if it were Ajali's neck she was wringing.
Madam Taverish was aghast, "What?"
"Oh, mother," Carelya sighed, "I merely took pity on an ill-dressed
person and helped him out. And that man started yelling some very
nasty things," she frowned fiercely at the carpenter, "Then all hell
broke loose."
"Carelya!" Nanny chastised, "Such language!"
"It's true! It's the blind man's fault!"
Master Taverish stepped forward and looked Ajali up and down. The
young man appeared like no more than some fop more suited to a
brothel, or picking up women on the street -- which he probably had no
trouble doing – the Master thought. That he had to look up at the
dandy didn't impress him at all, but the aura of suppressed power did.
There was something odd about this fellow, of that he had no doubt.
"What is the problem, sheriff? Have my daughter and this man done
anything wrong?"
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| | From: | Robin Banco | | Subject: | Re: Winter Celebrations - LTMB thread 2 - Predator | | Date: | Thu, 30 Dec 2004 09:24:23 GMT |
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| Master Taverish stepped forward and looked Ajali up and down. The
young man appeared like no more than some fop more suited to a
brothel, or picking up women on the street -- which he probably had no
trouble doing - the Master thought. That he had to look up at the
dandy didn't impress him at all, but the aura of suppressed power did.
There was something odd about this fellow, of that he had no doubt.
"What is the problem, sheriff? Have my daughter and this man done
anything wrong?"
Vance was crying in earnest now, soundless tears that left channels of clean
through the dirt. His half-hearted try at bolting past Mage Springer had
been stymied by her hand catching his collar; even then she hadn't called
the other Guards to chain him. In truth, he hadn't fought her, he knew full
well he did not have the strength to get away. And if she was magic, he
couldn't hide even if he did get away. Fear made him passive.
He'd heard of mages. Of the terrible things they could do to a person. Da
had told him to always steer clear of mages, for they could hurt a man worse
than cutting off his hands without even touching him. The storyteller he'd
seen once in Bleckner had told of mages turning people into _things_ and
burning them with lightnings, and mage wars where common folk sprouted leeks
from their ears or were turned inside out or made into frogs by the magics.
One story was about a girl who ate what a mage gave her and she fell asleep
and never woke up. Was that why they wanted him to eat in their dungeons?
If he had possessed a true voice, he would have been screaming but all his
malformed vocal cords would allow him was a whimper.
Calor hovered indecisively on the fringe of the crowd as the lady mage towed
the boy back to the market. He'd heard the Sheriff saying that the purses
would be returned to their owners, but the big question was, would the
contents be scrutinized first? Really looked at? If it was a matter of
saying his purse had three gold pieces and several letters and the guard
giving a cursory glance at the three gold pieces and papers, he would be
fine. If, on the other hand, a cursory glance was not enough and the guard
wanted to know what was in the letters to prove ownership... well, then
Calor definitely wasn't going to claim his pouch. He wasn't going to be
hanged for treason for the sake of three gold pieces.
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