Gil'ead

[Backabuth]

Lathem sat back in his chair as he watched the tournament. He laughed at the contestants attempts at disarming the opponent and looked over at his father. The evil man watched in glee as one the men fell to the ground holding the stub of where his arm used to be.
Lathem turned away from the sight and stroked the white cat that was perched beside him on the seat. The cat looked up at him with piercing gray eyes. 'I hate watching these, Jahag. Theyre wretched.'' The cat purred loudly. 'You are not like your father.' Lathem scowled. 'No, I am not! I hate him!' The cat stretched out his body, purring even louder. 'As you should.'
Lathem felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see a messenger. "Sir Lathem, I have important news for you." Lathem raised his eyebrows and looked over at his father. He was laughing with glee, pointing at a man who, Lathem assumed, was dead. He shivered at turned towards the messenger. "Very well. What is it?" "King Galbatorix requests to have your audience, sir." Lathem raised his eyebrows, surprised. 'For not a good reason, I suppose.' Lathem scowled at the cat and turned back to the man. "May I ask why?" The man's face hardened. "I do not nose into the King's matters. I was asked to relay this message and relay it, I will." Lathem frowned, twirling his black dagger. "And if I refuse?" The man frowned, his eyes filled with disgust. "I will have to arrest you." Lathem looked over to ask Jahag a question but the cat was gone. He turned back to the man, who was staring at Lathem with hate. Lathem smiled arrogantly. "Very well. I will come with you."
Lathem got up and walked over to his father. "Father?" He looked at Lathem. "What do you want? I'm busy." Lathem flicked his hair out of his eyes in annoyance. "I'm going to Ura'baen, Father. King Galbatorix wishes to see me." That caught his attention. "What?" Lathem held in a smile and gestured at the messenger. "He asks for my audience." Lathem's father frowned and then looked at the messenger. "Why does he ask for my son and not his best friend?" The man smiled coldly. "And who would his best friend be, sir?" Lathem's father scowled at the man and then turned his eyes back to the tournament. Then he sneered at Lathem. "You may only gfo if you win this tournament. Lathem scowled at him and then smiled. "Give me your sword." His father frowned and shook his head. "No." "Father, I don't have a sword. You said they are too dangerous, remember?" He laughed coldly. "And I stand by my word. Fine, you may use my sword." He thrust the sword into Lathem's hands and then turned away with disgust.
Lathem walked onto the field and walked over to the entry point. A man stopped him. "Halt. Where do you think you're going?" Lathem gestured at his father's sword. "I'm entering the competition. My father is Gahaf, the man holding this tournament." Th man smiled and then pointed towards the man on the field. "It's too late to join the tournament but there is the champion and you can challenge him if you like." Lathem nodded. "I will then." The man chuckled. "Cocky, eh? Well, good luck, me boy."
The man pulled Lathem towards the center and then grabbed the champion's arm and Lathem's arm, holding them high in the air. "Welcome, ladies and gents! We have a champion, but this boy," the man held up Lathem's arm higher. "wanted to join the competition. The only one he can fight against is the champ, so we have another fight coming on!" The crowd roared, pleased to see another fight. The man stepped away from the circle and then signaled for them to unsheathe their swords. Lathem gripped the red and black hilt and threw it from one hand to the other, keeping an eye on his opponent.
"START!" Lathem's opponent charged at him and Lathem quickly side-stepped him, sending the man sprawling to the ground. The man got up and brushed himself off, hate burning in his eyes. Lathem steadied himself for another attack and jabbed at the man as he charged him again. Lathem then started a series of moves, jabbing, and slashing, and thrusting, and twirling.
Some say that it was a beautiful sight, looking like he was using no energy at all. Some say that looked like he was dancing and playing with the man. And some say, that is was a miraculous sight. Not beautiful, miraculous.
Lathem finally ended his whirl wind with a final jab and the man fell to the ground, blooding seeping out of his body from numerous cuts and gashes. Lathem looked at the man, sympathy pouring from his eyes. Then he heard a yell. His father. "Kill him! Kill him, now!" Lathem looked into the man's eyes and saw.......fear. Lathem wiped the blood off his sword with his sweaty shirt and then held his hand out for the man to grab it. The man smiled weakly and got up slowly. "NOO! KILL HIM!" His father screamed and yelled, trying to get through to his son. Lathem put his gloved hand on the man's forehead and whispered, "Waise Heill." The man's cuts suddenly disappeared, a gasp coming from many people in the crowd. Lathem smiled at the man and then called Zamah to come and get him. Zamah flew over head and floated down to the ground. The large dragon picked him up in his talons and flew away from the scene, yells coming from the ground. 'Well, that was fun.' Zamah hummed in agreement.

[Tismri]

Marola sat in the crowd of spectators, observing the tournament. She cheered simply to blend in, not caring who won or lost. When the man went down, she looked in with contempt.
Another man who would have made a perfectly fine addition to the army, killed for sport. They should be placed on the front lines against the Varden and then see how fun it is to fight. Rauthr reached out to her from outside the city, radiating concern for the man. It's alright, Rauthr. He made his choices, he will have to live-and die-with them.
Yes, he made his choices, but he was a slave. He was forced to enter the tounament.
Whatever he was, it is no concern of ours. Marola smiled, then turned her attention back to the field. A young man just challenged the champion. She watched as the two men fought.
Why am I even here? This place has so many painful memories for me. I should not have returned to Gil'ead. There's nothing for me here. Rauthr understood Marola's pain
Sometimes we need to visit places that pain us. It may be necessary to help you let it go.[.i] Marola was about to respond, something something happened in the fight that made them both start out of Marola's reverie (sp?). The champion had fallen, defeated, yet the young challenger did not kill him, despite shouts from around the arena. Instead, he offered his hand to the champion, helping him up. That alone was shocking to the crowd, but that was not all. The young man then healed the other with magic, then mouted a large purple dragon who had appeared out of the sky. Rauthr gave a surprise roar at the sight of one of his kin, and Marola told him to be quiet. As the purple dragon took to the air, Marola stood.
Let's go, Rauthr. I am weary of this sport. I shall return to the inn and rest, then we can start home in the morning.
OOC: Oh, boy! All sorts of weird timing! This was supposed to happen before Lathem met Jeriah, which happened before "Unpleasant News," where Marola just arrived at Uru'baen with her new-hatched dragon. lol!

[nerasa]

In the Crowed Nerasa stood watching the stupid turnament that was being taken place. She had to visit every city to make sure that people were not getting into any trouble and making sure that no one was dieing for anything stupid.

"Why don't you come back to the inn and rest we can leave tomorrow morning and enjoy ourselves as we travel back to the Varden. What do you think?" asked marflamel.

"I think its fine but there is a couple things I have to make sure of. I have to make sure nothing happens here for a little while and if it doesn't then that would be good." said Nerasa.

"Its your own choice." said marflamel

[Trinn]

A scowl twisted down the corners of the young woman's full lips. She watched the bloody competition from the shadows of the stands, a cowl pulled up over her face, hiding it from passerby. Some of the competitors entered the tournament of their own free will, but others had no choice. They were slaves forced into the death match. Gianna's hand tightened into a fist. Tonight, Gladia. We have the information we need. Through the bond, a wave of agreement washed through. With a firm nodd, Gianna turned sharply and left the arena.

Outside of the city, Gianna sat next to the dragon. A deep purple, almost black, Gladia was twice as big as her rider, and four times as wide. The young dragon, not even a year old, sat with her tail wrapped around Gianna. The two spoke of the mission ahead. You know the plan. Gianna said, gazing up at Gladia with her large, guarded green eyes. The dragon released a trail of smoke.
Yes. You sneak into the arena, knock out the guards, and free the slaves. A sense of skepticism radiated from Gladia. Gianna crossed her arms.
What? You don't think I can do it? Gladia shook her horned head.
I think you capable of getting that far. But how will you get the slaves out of the city and on their way? Gianna frowned and spoke aloud. "We've been through that part too. If the city guards grow alert to us, that is when you come in and take care of them. The arena isn't that far from the gates. Besides, I've learnt enough magic to get us through." Gladia bowed her head, giving ascent.
Then it is time. Our first mission.

Staying to the shadows, Gianna crept through the moonlit city, the hood of her cloak pulled up and around her face. At this time of night, the streets were mostly empty of people. Only a few drunkards stumbled about. The arena loomed before he. Taking a deep, calming breath, Gianna crept up to its main door. Placing a hand on the keyhole, she muttered under her breath. A clink sounded as the door unlocked. Allowing herself a small smile, she opened the door and slipped inside. The smell of human filth asaulted her nostrils immediately, along with the iron tinge of blood. Gianna stood in the entrance of the stadium, where the slaves were brought and tagged, and where the willing victims entered. Narrowing her eyes, Gianna continued on, moving to the next door. Placing a hand on the handle, she found this door unlocked. A yellowish flicker seeped from beneath it. lantern light. she thought. Guards must be on the other side. Opening the door a tiny fraction, she looked through the crack into the dimly lit room. Two guards sat at a large wooden table, playinc dice and smoking on pipes. Behind them, caged in cells, were the fresh slaves. Some of them had fallen asleep, but Gianna could tell that a fair amount were awake. Raising a hand, she muttered "sleep" in the ancient language. The two guards looked up suddenly, feeling the presence of someone else. However, before they could investigate further, both slumped down on their chairs, fast asleep.

Opening the door wider, Gianna stepped inside. All of the slaves were watching her now, some passive, some mildly curious. They probably expected her to walk right past them. She surprised them all by walking up to the large cell. "I am here to free you. How many of you are willing?" Almost as one body, the slaves leapt to their feet. As I thought. Fresh. They have not lost their free will yet. Gianna smiled. "Excellent. Once I open this gate, I want you all to head outside. A dragon will be waiting for you." A few gasps escaped the throng. "She is friendly. Don't worry." She quickly assured them. "The dragon's name is Gladia. She can take three of you at once outside the city. Please, youngest first." Without any further hesitation, Gianna quickly unlocked the cell, using the keys from one of the slumbering guards. As ordered, the slaves filed out. Gianna quickly made her way to the last holding room.

This time, three guards awaited her, but she easily dispatched them. The burly men fell across the table, deeply asleep. The slaves in this room were held in numerous cells. Some of the shabby people looked healthy, but many suffered painful wounds. All of their eyes were dull. Don't let it be too late. she thought franitcally. Approaching the cells, she stopped where they all could see her. She delivered the same message. "So, who's willing?" Silence met her. None of the slaves seemed to know what to say, or do. "It's simple. Die here, or be free." That seemed to spark their attention. After a few moments, they all voiced their agreements. "Good. Now, here is what you must do."

As the older slaves filed past, Gianna inspected the injured. Many of them had only superficial wounds, but a good few had deep gashes and missing extremities. These were the slaves she healed, muttering "Waise Heil" over their injuries. Each time, dark purple light flowed from her gedwey ignasia, sewing back together what was damaged. The healed slaves seemed mystifed, and extremely grateful. They thanked her repeatedly. "Your all welcome. Now, go!" Gladia, how goes your task? The dragon took a moment before replying.
Good, although I am beginning to tire. There are more slaves than I anticipated. Gianna nodded, following after the last slave.
Yes. The last bunch are leaving now. Has anyone seen you flying? Again, another hesitation.
No. Not that I know of.

[nerasa]

Nerasa later that night decided to sneak around the place for a while and to scout so that she knew what was happening. She had no other choice but to do this and she had to for she had to report back to king Orrin and of cours Nasuada. She didn't know why but she had to let them know of everything for now. She could sense something happening and all but she didn't want to go see until she really had to. Then it got to strong and she went to investigate what was happening.

[Tismri]

Marola tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep. Her mind was troubled as she thought about her father. This city reminded her of him so much. Finally, after a while, she got up and left her room, wrapping her cloak about her to ward off the night's chill.
She wandered through the streets, not caring where she was going. Then she came across a place she never wished to see again. It was in a secluded part of the city, where very few people ever walked. As she stood there, memories flooded, and she was powerless to stop them.
FLASHBACK:
Marola, a seven year old girl, was walking through the streets on an errand given to her by her guardian. She had finished her task, but did not want to return home yet, so she took a different way home.
As she walked into an alleyway, she saw her father. He was fighting against an old man. Both of them seemed to have lost their swords, which were lying on the ground nearby. Her father hit the old man, driving him to his knees. Morzan was about to give the man a final knock-out blow when, to Marola's horror, the man grabbed the red sword lying on the ground beside him and stabbed Marola's father through the stomach. The man stood and grabbed a blue stone lying on a crate nearby, then noticed the small girl running forward. He looked at the red haired girl, then at Morzan, then fled the opposite direction down the alleyway.
Marola ran to her father and knelt beside him. The dying man looked up into the eyes of his young daughter.
"Marola...Marola," he whispered, then turned his face to the side and coughed up a large globule of blood
"Daddy!" the girl cried, "I'll go get a healer!"
"No," Morzan said, "It's too late for that...now. Did...did you see the man who did this?"
"Yes, Daddy, I did," said Marola.
"Remember that man, Marola...Remember him and avenge me..." Then Morzan died in his young daughter's arms.
"I will, Daddy, I will, I promise." Her mind flew back to his rare lessons in the Anceint Language and she vowed, "I will avenge you, Father."
END.
Marola knelt on the ground beside where her father had died. Her tears fell. She felt Rauthr lend her comforting thoughts, but he kept silent.
"I have not forgotten you, Daddy, nor my promise. I will avenge you."

[nerasa]

Nerasa was walking through the streets and she noticed a form standing in an abandoned street and she slowly approached and very cautiously.

"Excuse me but may I ask are you alright?" asked nerasa who was a foot away from a blades reach.

[Tismri]

Marola did not hear. She was too engrossed in her own thoughts to take notice of her surroundings. She knelt and touched the ground where her father had died. Sixteen years ago. She looked up at the moonlit sky, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.
"My father...Daddy. I love you, Daddy."

[nerasa]

Nerasa watched as the girl bent over where Morzan was killed. Appearently this girl was his daughter though and she, nerasa, never heard of morzan having a daughter but then again she only had met morzan once.

"You miss your father very much. I can see that." said nerasa.

[Trinn]

Gianna rushed outside of the arena slave quarters, herding the last bunch out before her. There were about two dozen. Just twenty four left, Gladia. Then we can get out of here. The dark purple dragon stared at her, a plume of smoke drifting from her nostrils.
Yes. Let's hope I can stay undiscovered. Gianna smiled as she helped an elderly man onto the dragons back.
You won't be seen. You blend in with the night. Tossing her head, Gladia flared her wings. Due to the dragon's smaller status, she could only carry a few people at a time.
Wait for me here. I'll return quickly for the next three. Gianna nodded, then pressed herself up against the wall of the building. "Follow my lead." she whispered to them. At first, they didn't seem to understand, but with further instruction, they lined themselves up against the wall, blending in with the deep shadows.

Gladia flew low over the city, gliding whenver she could. The arena was inconveniently near the center of town. The three slaves on her back clung to her spikes desperately. Don't worry, she said to them in her bell like voice. We will free you. Turning her neck, she looked at them with an amethyst eye, a draconic smile on her lips. Hesitantly, the slaves smiled back. With a snort, Gladia turned her head back around as she flew low over an alley with two people in it's depths.

[Tismri]

Marola turned as she heard a voice behind her. A woman was standing near her, one she did not recognize. She didn't bother to even try to hide her grief. She said nothing to the woman. She just knelt there in the dark, empty streets of Gil'ead, and mourned freely for her father. The woman was right. She did miss her father, more than anyone could ever know.

[nerasa]

"I met your father before you were ever born. He was a good man though I disagreed with him on some of the things that he has done but he was a good man none the less." said Nerasa who watched the girl.

"You should be proud to have a father like him. I know that if I were you I would but I am not. There are things in the past that we would like to change but we can't and the one thing that I can see in your eyes you wish you could change was to help your father and have him still alive. You can not bring back the dead but what you are doing is the only thing that you can do. Hang on to the good memories they are what you can truly Cherish." said Nerasa.

[Tismri]

Marola glanced at the woman again. Who is this woman? she wondered. But still, her words comforted her. She stood to her feet and looked the woman in the eyes.
"Thank you," was all she said. Then she turned and walked back to the inn, feeling better than she had since arriving in Gil'ead. Rauthr reached out to her.
Good night, Marola, he told her as she finally drifted off to sleep.

[nerasa]

"Your welcome. I hope that you remember your fathers memory with care." said nerasa and she kept walking on looking at the women's eyes. She was tired but she couldn't sleep but she kept walking.

[Trinn]

Anxious, Gianna twined her hands together and fiddled with the handle of her dagger. On my way back, came Gladia's voice in her mind.
Good. We need to pick up the pace, I think If someone were to walk by, a bunch of slaves standing against a wall would look a bit suspicous. Humour washed between the bond.
Was, only a bit. Rolling her eyes, Gianna turned to the slaves beside her. "You guys are up next," she whispered. They nodded, their eyes slightly fearful. A small gust of wind accompanied the landing of Gladia. Gianna smiled, glad as always, to see the dragon. "Allright, up you go." Walking quickly to the dragon's side, she helped boost the slaves onto the purple beasts back. [i[Allright, get going![/i] Withought a word, Gladia launched and flew off.