Topic: Scorpion Wraitharan

Issy · Date: 2005-07-28 20:48 EST

Drumming her fingers absently along the worn wood of the table top, Isuelt stared blankly off into the distance. She had been sitting in this corner of the Inn for some time; truth is, she lost track of her hours here. Yet, she came in alone and spoke only to the barmaid to secure herself a drink, which was sitting uncharacteristically full next to her restless fingers. Her mind had not been friendly to her over the last several days. She kept replaying past events at Castle Kilkirk, and what Duchess Livia Von Kraven had said to her. If Isuelt did not accept the Duchess?s invitation to join her in crime, and goddess knew what else, the Duchess would go after not only Isaac, but Scorpion back in Metro City as well. She knew that if push came to shove, Isaac would most likely be able to take care of himself. But Scorpion Wraitharan was never a fan of one-on-one, unless it was in a bedroom. Scorp would never even see Livia coming; she would make short work of him. Isuelt could not sit on the sidelines and let that happen. He had to at least be warned.

Isuelt flinched as a splinter decided to make itself a cozy little home under her fingernail. She looked down to where her fingers had been drumming themselves numb to find that her nails had been scratching shallow grooves on the tabletop. Making a fist, she inhaled deeply, letting her eyes close and trying to get a hold of herself. How could she go running off to Metro with all that was needed of her here? And just what would she tell Scorp when she found him? And how many women would she have to go through to find him? One thing he always did was leave a trail of good-looking women, Isuelt grinned as she thought to herself, ?That bastard.?

Issy · Date: 2005-07-28 21:36 EST

Letting out a measured breath and opening her eyes, Isuelt looked up at the sky. Her back was snuggled close by the earth, the short reeds providing her just enough shelter from curious passers-by. Staring up at the clouds' uninhibited dance across the late afternoon sky, she thinks about her impending trip. Sitting up, she shakes her head, coming to a decision. "Nope, can't leave just yet." Getting up, she brushes off her backside and starts walking for home. "That might be just what she wants me to do." Besides, what if Isaac can't hold his own as well as she thinks he can. And with that, she picks up her pace toward ?r nDra?ocht F?in.

Isaac · Date: 2005-07-30 17:12 EST

The day is drawing to a close, as made obvious by the change in the angle of the light filtering through the leaves of the trees around the perimeter of the grove. The large central clearing has been cleared, more or less. The cooking space provides the only source of clutter at the moment, but that is easy enough to get around. Isaac heaves a sigh in the center of the large space. His thoughts, as always, dwell on Issy. He knew, after their earlier conversation, that she'd leave. There was no avoiding it. He worried about her even now, wondering what would happen if that bitch Livia caught up with her. But, most of all, he just missed her. Time to ease some of that stress. He stands clad only in a pair of loose breaches, his muscled torso bare for all to see, despite the fact that no one is there. He holds both scimitars in his hands, blades reflecting the green-tinged light. His back is much better, light scars all that are left of the wounds. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

The movements begin slowly, blades raising and turning at an angle. First the right, then the left. He goes into a fluid turn, blades leading the way. The main slices the air at waist level, the left coming down in a diagonal slash. He reverses his momentum, bringing himself around the other way, blades coming up simultaneously, cutting the air in front of him. He then brings them over and around his head, as if to block unseen blades coming at his back. He moves faster now, blades weaving and slicing, cutting intricate and deadly patterns through the evening air. He begins to range over the entire clearing, going through the moves he knows so well. As he reaches the back of the clearing, he jams both blades into the ground. He pulls out a pair of shuriken and hurls them at a pair of trees near the entrance to the hidden grove. Without pausing, he rips his weapons from their earthy sheathes and lunges forward, covering twenty feet easily, landing in the path of the projectiles and cutting them from the air. He stands there afterwards, breathing heavily, his body covered in sweat. Blades slip from his hands as he lets himself cool down, done for the time being.

Isaac · Date: 2005-07-30 19:25 EST

Long after the sun traveled below the horizon, Isaac pulls himself out of the stream running behind the hidden grove. He dries himself off with a softened barkcloth towel, then dons a pair of loose breeches and a simple shirt. Ducking through the concealed opening into the back of the main clearing of ?r nDra?ocht F?in, he looks about and sighs. Everything was back in place after his little practise session earlier. He shakes his head and moves over to the gap on the east side, ducking through to another, smaller clearing, littered with boxes and crates and sacks. He moves to a group in the back, moving containers aside until he reaches a locked chest. He lifts it a bit, fishing out the key that rests in a small recession beneath it. He waits for a moment, having not used this key in three years. With a deep breath, he inserts it into the lock and twists.

He lifts an old, worn tome out of the chest. The cover is made with bark and inscribed with the simple of Galaedros, the god of nature. He smiles a bit, closing the chest and making his way back to the main clearing. Raising a hand towards the fire pit, he whispers a few unintelligible words. A small blaze kicks up in no time. He sits down at the edge of the fire, opening the book and perusing the pages. Again he finds himself moving along the path of Druidism.

Issy · Date: 2005-07-30 20:48 EST

Stopping off at a roadside inn before re-entering Rhydin, Issy splurges on a room upstairs in order to get her thoughts in order. Sequestered in the somewhat silent and spartan quarters, the Scathachian sits to compose the letter she'd dreaded writing.

Kevin;

Where do I start? I guess I should first apologize for leaving so early that morning. But, you knew what you were getting into when you were with me. And hey...it's not like it was the first time it's happened, right? I'm alive and well, as always. And, as always, hating nearly every minute of it. Don't worry, I heard your words when last we spoke and I haven't tried recently. So to answer your next question, yes, I'm planning on coming back. In fact, this letter is preceding me. So, basically it's a warning to get rid of all of the women in our bed.

But please do take my next series of words to heart, they might be the most important words I have ever shared with you. Draw the Pack tight, there is a woman (and Scathach knows who else in her servitude) that is making her way to you. She is not to be trusted, dealt with, or anything. Let's just say that I ticked her off and she's exacting her revenge on me by putting you on her "To Do" list. And no, I don't mean that as a good thing. Her name is Livia Von Kraven, I'm not exactly sure what she is. I only know that she is dangerous and she's coming for you. Please, please, Kevin....I want you to be there when I come home. Keep a low profile and keep the Pack close.

~ Illea

Leaning back from the parchment, a long, slow exhale is pushed forth from Issy's lips. She secures the letter, making sure to inscribe "Scorpion Wraitharan" on the outer material. The young man employed by the inn said he would run whatever letters she needed to Metro City. She intended on paying him double his asking price.

Issy · Date: 2006-08-31 13:50 EST

She never did go back.

She had planned to.

She had played out their reunion over and over in her head.

She had even fantasized about picking up where they left off.

Scorpion Wraitharan and Isuelt DeRomiano were the most mismatched pair ever to share a cause, or a bed. Trouble was, the truth was that they were more alike than either of them cared to admit.

Isuelt had been on her own for over a year now. That made it the longest time she'd been away from him. Sure, she came and went as she pleased when it came to Scorp, but she always came back.

Her head was clear now, as if she had hung it out to dry in the freezing cold. She'd found her center once more, she had reclaimed her daily meditations and practices, her Scathachian sisters provided company, and the bottle did what they could not do.

Still, there was something that even her life-partner whiskey could not drown: that ever aching need to rectify a wrong.

She'd run out on Scorp, she knew that, but why had she? She'd fended off this question for as long as she could, but the answer kept creeping back up her spine and tap-tap-tapping its way into her head. She knew that she wasn't running to something, she had run from something. However, that was the part she was unwilling or unable to admit to herself.

She had told herself, and even her closet confidante, Keaton, that she had lost too dearly in that game of amour to ever be caught up in it again. The death of her husband over a decade ago had sent her into a tailspin from which she found herself still recovering on certain days. She would never tie herself to another, so long as she lived.

That was the way to avoid being devastated by love....just avoid love.

That philosophy had actually worked for her, until now. She missed Scorp, physically missed him of course. Their romps in the sack were second to none. But more than that, she mentally missed him. She had been feeling empty, something was missing. Even if all was quiet, especially when all was quiet. That tiny voice crept up and made itself heard: you need him...you need him. And that voice saying those words were the last things she wanted.

Still...it kept coming.