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Post by EarlyBird on Apr 1, 2007 6:21:04 GMT 9.5
Vortigern stared at her and sighed, he didn't care what she thought, or did he, he kept looking at Mab. Soon she was gone, vanished like dust. She looked around the land of magic picking up a large crystal and throwing it across the room. "Frik!" she boomed, her head bolting round to face him.
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Post by Tosca on Apr 1, 2007 6:27:26 GMT 9.5
Within moments, the anxious scurrying of feet was heard through the dank corridors, slapping across the hard ground. From around a dark corner, the luminous face of the gnome appeared, his body blending with the shadows as he skulked closer. "Madame...?" He bowed obsequiously low to the ground, sensing Mab's wrathful mood. "May I assist in some way? You do look rather vexed." The gnome cringed and bit his lip, wondering if he had overstepped the mark even with this simple comment.
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Post by EarlyBird on Apr 1, 2007 6:29:47 GMT 9.5
Mab tilted her head and rolled her eyes over to one side "how could he know? He is a mortal" she shouted. Frik looked at her and mouthed words which didn't fully come out "maybe he just guessed" he said giving a small smile to try and lighten Mab's mood. "Guessed!" she hissed "how could he have guessed something like that!".
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Post by Tosca on Apr 1, 2007 6:33:25 GMT 9.5
"Well, Madame..." Frik simpered, crawling a little closer to Mab in an effort to make his suddenly diminutive voice heard. "I guess he suspects everybody and anybody alike... being a king can have these negative effects on you... especially those of a naturally hostile disposition, such as he..."
"Frik!" Mab rasped, and a stone shattered on the wall inches beside Frik's head. "You're waffling."
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Post by EarlyBird on Apr 1, 2007 6:38:16 GMT 9.5
Mab walked around the space, thinking to herself, she smirked, if she could make him be under her power she could get the throne. And how much better to do that then give in to him. Vortigern would go as far as he could to make Mab miserable, but she knew they would both gain something from a little love fest.
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Post by himiko on Apr 1, 2007 7:03:44 GMT 9.5
Mab picked up one of her crystals, and held it tightly as she paced around the room, slowly becoming calm.
It was rapidly becoming clear that Vortigern would not be cowed by the small, simple displays of power that she had shown him so far, and she had known from the start that he wouldn't be taken in with her charms straight away. The task was certainly going to be harder than she had thought, but then, she relished a challenge.
She considered her options. She could, as she had considered earlier, give herself to Vortigern, though the idea made her feel vaguely ill. However, if he saw through her plan, then he would know, or at least suspect, that her motives behind doing so were not simply due to a mad desire for Vortigern. She didn't dout that he would gladly take her up on her offer, but she also didn't doubt that upon doing so, he would simply look upon her as one of his conquests, he would, in a sense, have won. No, she wouldn't do that... Another option was to try and scare him into submission, into bending his knee to her, but part of her knew that it wouldn't work. She was the one who had approached Vortigern initially, in an attempt to make Merlin return to her. Vortigern knew she needed his help. No, that wouldn't work either.
She needed to regain some of the footing that she had lost so far. Vortigern had proved himself more of a challenge than she had guessed, and she had allowed his taunts and jibes to get under her skin and make her angry. She couldn't afford to do that. She needed to gain some respect from Vortigern, needed him not only to desire her body, but to truly want to make her his, so that if and when she finaly decided to give into him, he would be so pathetically grateful that he would let his guard down in front of her, and then she would strike like a serpent. She would take the throne from him, and discard him, and she would take great pleasure in doing so.
The only question was, how to go about it?
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Post by Tosca on Apr 1, 2007 8:09:56 GMT 9.5
[And you complain about me leaving you in a dilemma!?!
The answer, to be sure, lay in understanding the man - and this was a task slightly more taxing than Mab's initial estimation. She hadn't anticipated his enjoyment of innuendos and word games, nor the insincerity he had shown upon their earlier meeting. Vortigern might relish the idea of lying with Mab [or, on the other hand, the irony of it might only serve to amuse him], but at the root of his being, he was a creature hewn by the blade, a soldier, a man of blood and warfare. She doubted any tricks or illusions could manufacture his respect and gratitude independently. Yet trust through alliance and proximity seemed slow, simple options to choose. She was, after all, aiding his against the potential threat of Uther's army, and they were both aware that her motives for that were entirely her own; indeed, they had reached a mutual agreement through bargaining.
Mab resumed her pacing, watched all the while by the anxious Frik, who seemed distinctly unsettled by her lack of apparent anger, contrasting with the earlier display of wrath that had so nearly caused him severe fractures to his skull. And, to make matters even worse, his mistress was smiling - ever so slightly. It was enough to make a gnome's heart tremble. Frik's did - along with his knees.
If, Mab mused, Vortigern prized military success so highly, then admiration would surely be gained through proving her own capability. Of course, the effect would be greatly heightened if the king himself was struggling, even wounded, with Mab and her forces arriving just in the nick of time - oh, the ignominy of it! And Mab could definitely arrange a situation like that.
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Post by himiko on Apr 1, 2007 8:39:22 GMT 9.5
Mab's smile grew as she paced, until she was practically grinning. Thankfully for Frik, she was deep in thought enough not to notice him edging backwards, trying to get as far away from Mab as possible whilst remaining in the same room.
The first thing she would have to do was to arrange a convenient battle for Vortigern to catch himself up in. That was easy enough to arrange, some of the lords of Britain had always been ready to declare war at the drop of a hat. The problem would be ensuring that Vortigern was put at a disadvantage. Much as she hated to admit it, Vortigern had enough battle experience behind him, and enough men following him to cut down most enemies that he faced. Perhaps if it could be arranged that Vortigern only took part of his army with him... It wouldn't be an easy plot, but Mab was sure that she could pull it off. As long as even one soldier got close enough to the king to injure him, it would be enough. Vortigern's army would be unsure, and then, then she could make her move. Lull Vortigern into a false sense of security, gain his admiration and respect, and then SNAP! close the trap around him.
Mab smiled nastily to herself and vanished, ready to put this plan of hers into action.
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Post by Mab Rox on Apr 1, 2007 9:06:41 GMT 9.5
She appeared at the layer of the Great Dragon, with one hand extended, touching the dragon's head. "Great Dragon," she murmured. "Queen Mab," was its reply, but not verbally. No, it sent its message to her through pure thought. She smiled. The power in the dragon rose to her touch; fire to her air--light to her dark. Their magics met with sparks and gusts of wind. "It has been long sence we have last spoken," he sent to her. "Yes," she replied, in her half-whisper of a voice. "And that time has been full of changes for both of us." "Yes." She stared into his eyes. "I need your help." If dragons could blanche, he would have done so. Rarley did Mab ask for help. "Anything, my Queen." She waved a hand dismissively, putting out all the fires in his cave. He promptly re-lit them, ans ushered her in. "What do you need?" With a dangerous smile and a glint in her eyes, she told him.
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Post by Tosca on Apr 1, 2007 9:43:26 GMT 9.5
Late in the night, King Vortigern, who was a light sleeper at the best of times, and an insomniac for the majority, woke and seized his sword. Piercing wails and screams filled his ears. The first emotion to cross his mind was, predictably, rage. The castle was under assault and he hadn't been alerted - he made a note to execute his thoroughly incompetent nightwatch as soon as the morning light surfaced.
Dashing to the window, Vortigern stared out, and was confronted with a patchwork of light and dark, the black sky lit up by the ugly and unwelcome blaze of flame. His first thought was of archers equipped with pots of flaming tar - they devastated the thatch huts of the villagers... but, moments later, a shape darker than the dark background moved stealthily into the light glimmering in a pool spread by the fire that was consuming a nearby building. Vortigern cursed. Very little inspired dragons to rampage across the countryside, but when they did, it left whole armies virtually defenceless.
He kept hold of his sword as he raced down the flight of steps that led from his room. Not that it could really help - metal would twist and melt with a single exhalation from a beast such as this, and possibly splinter and crack on the first strike he made against it. Still, strike he would. Vortigern had never been one to run from a battle; years of winning had erased the notion of defeat from his mind, even when he knew it to be imminent.
Dashing out into the courtyard, he saw his armies in a fray. Men ran and screamed and died before his eyes. Truly, it was pathetic. "Trebuchets!" He roared, as he stood there amidst the chaos. "Get them out - arm them with the heaviest boulders you can find." The men that could hear him jumped fearfully to his request, but it was a diminished number of his army, and the assembling of the catapults, and the finding of boulders, all took its time. Vortigern took shelter in a protected stairwell as his mind raced through his possibilities. He had no way to quell the beast with water; heavy rocks did indeed seem to be his only option.
Watching with a sense of apathy diminished only by flashes of annoyance and contempt for his men as they perished, he waited for the trebuchets to be brought out. When they emerged, the king sprinted towards the stairs so he could direct where they were to be placed - and was almost caught by a jet of flame. Scrambling aside, he glanced around into the blazing eyes of the dragon, which seemed to sneer as it aim another jet of fire at Vortigern. Indeed, it seemed almost as if he were being targetted...
Making it to the top of the stairs, Vortigern barked out orders. The trebuchets were loaded, aimed, and loosed in a much-compounded space of time. Consequently, most missed, but the odd one or two caught against the raging dragon, causing an irritated shake of annoyance, but seemingly nothing more. Vortigern narrowed his eyes, then backed off slightly. The dragon's great snout followed him, lips pulling back over gleaming white teeth.
When the king had drawn the beast close enough for his men to quake in their boots, making sure to dart behind pillars and statues with each burst of flame, but not escaping mild burns with most encounters, he stopped, and roared, "Archers - fire, you idiots! And aim for the eyes!" At his command, a flurry of arrows descended upon the dragon's head. It twisted back its great, sinuous neck, this time thrashing in pain as the arrows hit their mark.
From a nearby cliff, Mab watched the events with her eagle-eyed vision, grinding her teeth. It seemed it was time to intervene - but she would need to worsen the situation before she could humiliate and 'save' the king... he had a damnable habit of foiling her plans before they had taken flight.
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Post by Incapability on Apr 1, 2007 17:38:51 GMT 9.5
Vortigern's face contorted itself into a grimace of angry satisfaction. Finally! Finally they were getting to the beast. He was, after all, still the invincible warrior that had claimed Britain's throne. His cunning and his nerves of steel had once again saved him. But the battle was not over yet, for blinded and painstaken though it might be, the successful attack had only served to anger the dragon further. And this blind anger was far more dangerous than any controlled attack could ever be. It was now aimlessly tossing fire at them, and its huge claws were slowly but surely bringing the castle's walls down. Vortigern was about to shout for another round of arrows and therefor didn't see the piece of wall than came falling down; the very piece of wall that was about to connect with his left leg only seconds later in order to smash it into several pieces. Neither did he see the shadow standing where the piece of wall was coming from.
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Post by EarlyBird on Apr 1, 2007 18:35:17 GMT 9.5
Everything went black, Vortigern woke up in his bed with nurses surrounding him, his leg was badly damaged. He stared around in anger "Mab!" he shouted, beginning to cough at the pain in his leg, all the nurses vanished and Mab appeared before him. Mab stared at him and smirked "so you did not win this time?" she said tliting her head, causing her hair to fall along to the side with it. Vortigern grabbed Mab's hand pulling her onto the bed "you witch" he spat, he held her hand to tight it pained her. "Vortigern..." she whispered, her voice low and deep, he stared at her "I might never walk again, and heres you coming to glowt" he hissed. Mab tried to pull away but found herself getting weaker, he pulled her even closer, so she was right beside him. Her hand resting at his chest. "I always get what I want Mab" he whispered stroking her hair. "Always..." he ran his hand down her side and smirked. Mab didn't understand why she couldn't pull away, her magic was not flowing, her hand was in such a tight grasp. Maybe he was more powerful then she thought.
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Post by Incapability on Apr 1, 2007 22:47:32 GMT 9.5
The feeling of something cold against his forehead pulled Vortigern our of his weird, fever-induced, but not entirely unpleasant dream. When he opened his eyes, however, he thought for a moment that he was still dreaming, for sitting in front of him was the very Mab of his dream. Well, maybe not the same. For one thing, the distance between them was considerably longer. And for another, this Mab didn't look as though she'd peacefully watch him stroke her hair. She was holding a cold cloth to his forehead all right, but she did so with a face that clearly indicated just how much she doubted her healthy state of mind. "No need to be so excited about me awakening, Madam.", he pressed out between gritted teeth, because his leg was hurting badly. "Well, good. And no need to be grateful for you salvation, Vortigern; yours and that of your men and your castle." "What do you want, Mab?" Vortigern could feel his lids grow heavy again, and he could hear that his voice was getting slurred. But he would be damned before he would fall asleep with no one but her in the room. He could see her cat-like smile as she replied: "I never said I wanted anything." "Liar ...", he murmured, but already he was being pulled back into the realms of sleep, where hopefully the much more agreeable Mab of his earlier dream awaited him.
Mab dropped the cloth as soon as he was asleep again. What a simpering, pathetic thing a wounded mortal was, even one that was presumed to be as brave as this man. She had sent the dragon away with a few catchy tricks to impress the soldiers, knowing it would be alright in time (a creature as powerful as a dragon would not keep any lasting effects from something as laughable as an arrow-wound!), and had then turned to look for the wounded king. She had not been pleased to find that he had passed out and had therefor missed his own salvation by her hands. Now she would have to stay and look after him until he knew. Mab had grimaced. But after thinking about it, she had realised that maybe holding his pathetic hand on the sickbed wasn't the worst thing for her plans. She had nothing to gain by it, and that might make her win his trust. And now here she sat, watching his sleep, cooling his skin every now and then, and she was sending him dreams, for the Mistress of Dreams she was, and waited for her time to strike.
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Post by Tosca on Apr 2, 2007 0:35:00 GMT 9.5
Waiting for Vortigern to wake and gradually come to appreciate her part in his rescue was not the most enthralling of tasks, it had to be said. Nor was watching the man sleep the most pleasant. Occasionally the odd smirk would lift the corner of his mouth, and Mab would narrow her eyes, and give a small snort of contempt.
As she sat serenely in the corner of the room, and the nurses drifted about her, casting uncertain looks in her direction, Mab allowed her mind to wander. The impending battle with Uther would not go so smoothly if Vortigern had an injured leg. That could be turned to her favour; if Vortigern had not recovered by the time his knights grew restless or Uther grew bold enough to stage an assault, he mind find himself obliged to implore Mab for help once more - something she would dearly love to see. Even injured, this man thought far too highly of himself.
And then there was Merlin; he had been promised into her ownership if she told Vortigern how to win the battle. As yet, neither she nor Vortigern had acted on their word... and Merlin himself was spending his time relaxing blissfully with Nimue in a small hut by Vortigern's kingdom, granted the freedom to breathe, and to dream. Idly, the thought of paying him a visit crossed Mab's mind - but her situation was delicate at the moment, she didn't need to rouse tempers by provoking Merlin. Besides, the boy was such a disappointment; seeing him always left Mab frustrated. She did wonder, though, if his suspicions had been aroused by the attack of the dragon. He knew better than most that magical beings respond in kind to others of their ilk, and attacking a town of its own accord was not in a dragon's nature. But it was probably nothing - even if the events had caused Merlin to think of her, there would be no sense in him tipping off a king he neither respected nor served.
Oblivious to the activities of the nurses, Mab sighed and continued her musing.
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Post by Incapability on Apr 2, 2007 2:24:59 GMT 9.5
She was pulled out of her thoughts for a moment when Vortigern started to stirr, but after a few seconds she sank back into her seat: false alarm.
No, Merlin would not help Vortigern in this. He would probably see it as an opportunity for his two biggest enemies to kill each other in a slow, agonizing and gory way. Because of this she was sure: he did not suspect her motives. She guessed that he much rather imagined this as her way of getting back at Vortigern for not helping her. This apathy, in a way, was good. It meant that Merlin would not get in her way at an inoportune moment. And he still needed to stew a bit anyway. He might not really have exceeded her expectations, but he had still given in to the lure of his magic powers, and this seed needed time to grow. How to overcome Vortigern's pride, on the other hand, was a different problem. It was all a question of measurement and of the right moment. He had to be at the verge of loosing everything from his kingdom to his nightpot before the thought of coming to her would cross his mind. And while she was powerful, she would not be able to help him if he was in a situation where there was no way out. A dragon, her ally, was one thing. But Uther's army was a real enemy. As real as the enemy that slumbered in the people's minds. And real enemies required a real fight. She was in good practice, but even in her best days, saving a whole army from the brink of doom would have been quite a task. She would simply have to make him come to her at the right moment; not too soon, and hopefully not too late.
And she would get a chance to work towards that goal in just a moment, for the king was stirring again, and one of his watery, pale blue eyes opened slowly and looked at her, soon to be joined by the other.
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