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Archer waited tensely, his keen amber eyes peering out into the forest. Only foliage met his wandering gaze, his charge had disappeared. He sighed, agily dismounting from the palomino stallion. The girl was quickly becoming more trouble than she was worth. Tentively, he picked his way between the maple and elm trunks to cut across the trail. About a quarter mile away, Archer found the lady's mare, thithered to a sapling and grazing contently. Just like a woman...his thoughts began as a long, eternal scream cut through the air. With as much stealth as he could risk in his haste, Archer raced into the forest after the sound. In a beautiful glade of wild flowers, he found his lady. Her back against the stoney wall of a mountain, she stared in horror at the snarling wildcat before her. Without a second thought, he knotched an arrow to his bow and let it fly through the air with the deadly precision that had inspired his name. In the next moment, the arrow found itself embedded in the lifeless body of the feline predator's neck. "Come on." He ordered the maiden briskly, "We're going back for our horses."

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I know it's rather rushed and not the best, but I was in a hurry. redface

(I'll take a stab at this, I'm quite curious 3nodding )

Reggie looked over her shoulder again, and sighed deeply. Lady Mirabelle was still gone. Great. That day was supposed to be the knight's grand day off after dedicating so many long days and sleepless twilights to the defense of the great city. And guess what? It turns out the whims of a teenage aristocrat still remain more important than loyal service. At this point Reggie would have been happy to keep on going along the trail and leaving the Lady to fend for herself, but a little thing called a salary prevented her from doing so. Reluctantly, she fitted her bronze helment over her sun-deprived ivory face and nudged her stallion off the path and into the forest.

It only took five minutes to find the Lady's tracks: her favorite mare happened to be the fattest one, so the tracks were deep and easily seen in the raw spring earth. And three minutes later Reggie found the mare itself, and cursed to the gods because the foolish girl didn't even bother to tie it up. After doing the tedious chore herself, Reggie sauntered off on foot, her movements altered by her suit of armor, and followed the high-heeled footprints that the Lady herself left. And Reggie nearly fell over when a high-pitched wail cut through the forest.

"AAAEEEII! HELP ME!! HELP!"

"Lady!" Reggie called back, unsheathing her short gladius sword and running towards the screaming.

"HELP! DRAGON! IT'S A DRAGON!" There she was, in the small clearing ahead. Mirabelle's small frame was pressed back against a tree, scared to death of whatever was in front of her. If it was a dragon, Reggie didn't have much time.

"Lady!" The knight practically threw herself in front of the lady, gladius in hand. She swung down upon the dragon...and hit a patch of moss. The 'dragon' peered curiously at the slab of metal embedded in the moss, and with its tiny limbs crawled on it to see if it was anything really interesting.

"It's there! Don't you see it! Oh gods!" Mirabelle turned away, closing her eyes and looking as if she would faint. Reggie pulled her sword out of the ground and brushed the curious tree lizard off of it, and slapped the Lady's butt with the flat-side.

"Ow-ow-ow! That hurt! I'm going to tell my daddy, and he's going to cut your pay!"

Reggie sheathed her sword and started marching back to the horses. "Let me tell you, it was worth it, my Lady."

Temra let out a sigh as she rode down the forest trail on her horse. She had just become a knight, something she had wanted all her life, and the first thing she had to do was escort some lady who could not protect herself. Temra had always hated woman like that. She could not see why a woman had to be defenceless. She hated it.

Letting out another sigh, she figured that she should look back to check on the lady. When she looked back, her aquamarine eyes widened. The lady was gone.

Quickly pulling back on the reins of her horse, stopping it, she moved her head this way and that. Her eyes darted from one side to the other as she searched for the lady. But when she could not see her, Temra let out a frustrated sigh. This was just what she needed.

Shaking her head, her auburn, waist length hair swaying, she softly kicked the horse. As it started to trot, she called out to the lady.

“Lady, Lyndia!”

It was only about a minute later when she spotted the lady, lying on the ground. Rolling her eyes, Temra stopped her horse and got off it. She then walked over to the lady. As she did so, she looked around to see if she could figure out what had happened. When she couldn’t find anything though, she just shrugged her shoulders. She also noticed that the lady’s horse was gone.

Shaking her head, she walked up to the lady and bent down. Noticing that Lyndia was actually not unconscious like she had thought, Temra rolled her eyes.

“Help me!” Lyndia said, panic stricken. “It’s after me!”

Temra raised an eyebrow and then glanced around. There was nothing there. Not even a bug. Looking back to Lyndia, she slapped her.

“Get out of it! There is nothing there! Now, come on,” Temra replied, her voice filled with frustration. She then walked over to the horse and was about to get back on it when she noticed that Lyndia wasn’t moving. “Well?”

“Help me up,” Lyndia said in a snobby tone.

“I am not helping you with something that you can clearly do on your own,” Temra said, raising her voice. She really hated women like that. “Now, get on the horse or I am going to leave you here!”

With that said, Temra got up on the horse. She then looked over to Lyndia and watched as she huffed. Lyndia then stood up, walk over and hopped up onto the horse. And as soon as she did, Temra kicked the horse and they set off.

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Ah... sorry about the length... ^^'

(And now for a twist; What happens when a stereotype meets a stereotype?)

The gallant Sir Fenrir paused for a moment. Something wasn't quite right in the air. Pulling his horse up, he looked about, subconsciously admiring how his features must reflect well in the speckled sunlight drifting in through the leaves. As his gaze wandered over the forest, his steel blue eyes- the heart break of many maidens, stopped on a rock, and he began to concentrate. Finally, it dawned upon him what had happened.

"Patsy, bring me my bag!" His servant, whom he considered no more than an object, rushed forward and opened a bag. All manner of cosmetics were contained inside, rangng from conditioners, to hairbrushes, to make-ups that would hide unsightly zits that might form upon an unsuspecting gallant knight's face. "Ah, this will do." A tube of gel was removed. "you know Patsy, you really should try this stuff. You're absolutely wretched to look at." The conversational tone was applied as the dashing hero carefully fixed his hair back into place. "I almost mistook you for a goblin last night. I really am sorry about that." The tone didn't seem quite sincere. "I'm sure you'll be able to take the stitches out by the end of the week."

Once his hair had been fixed, Sir Fenrir began to move once more on his oh so perilous task of escorting the princess. Or rather, he moved several feet when he began to get annoyed. Still, it was improper to be terse with a lady, and therefore he restrained the irritation in his voice. "Oh, Lady Penden my dear, would you be so kind as to come along? We're quite finished here, I assure you." No answer. How odd. "Lady Penden?" Looking about, it struck him rather odd that she wasn't there. Puzzled he thought about this for a moment. After a few minutes, he sad rather loud and boldy; "Oh my."

And therefore the search for the princess began. Patsy ran to and fro while Fenrir sat in the shade of an elm tree. "Oh dear, this stress is not good for my skin. I think i'm beginning to break out in a rash... I do hope nothing horrible has happened to her, and that i'll find her soon." Of course, him finding her was a relative term. Patsy, meanwhile, was busy fending off a mountain lion with a pointed stick.

Nearly an hour later, the gallant Sir Fenrir was rather annoyed. Patsy should have found the Lady Penden by now. That is, she shouldn't have been so much trouble to find. It was time he stepped in and personally did something about the problem. Mounting his horse and hoping Patsy could find him- he had his cosmetics, after all- he set off in search of the beautiful Lady Penden.

At first, he tried the 'here, kitty kitty' approach, where he would make little sucking noise, clucking his lips together. Puzzled by the lack of effectiveness, he upgraded to whistling for her. Unlike his hunting dogs, she did not come bounding with a stick in her mouth. She didn't come without a stick, either, which was further dissapointing. Things were beginning to get desperate, and he was about to start patting his thighs while crying 'here girl', when he finally saw her.

The beautiful and radiant Lady Penden looked up to him innocently from a nearby tree. He immediately dove from his horse and slid to a stop on a single knee nearby, taking her hand in his hand. "Oh my Lady Penden, art thee alright?" His voice immediately hit a tone of old british, his sincerity seeming to drop away with his more modern accent. "I was so worried my Lady, pray tell what happened?"

The oh so illustrious Lady Penden blinked at him like a doe in headlights. "Why, whatever do you mean, Sir Fenrir? I told you I wanted to take the high route and I was watching you the entire time."

"Why... Yes. Yes you did." Oops. Well, how was he supposed to be expected to be paying attention, Patsy had been currently running the brush one hundred times through his long silky hair when she said that! "Shall we go then, my Lady?"

"Oh, absolutely Sir Fenrir, but I am so tired from the walk, may I ride upon your steed?" She put a hand to her forehead and seemed to swoon for a moment, at whch point Fenrir gracefully caught her and swept her up from the terrible ground which would dare blister her feet.

"Absolutely, my lady!" Who said chivalry was dead?

Val, why is yours so short? eek And, and Fenrir used my character IN VAIN!!!! My turn to retaliate!!!



Penden loved this assignment. She and Utle-- er, that's the lady living in her head-- could enjoy the woods that reminded Utle of home. The brat they were watching was of little consequence. What could she do, trip and break a leg? These woods were well within the confines of her realm, and that meant Penden was getting paid a good sum to take an evening ride.

"Oh, lady Elendl, isn't that a wonderful spruce?" Penden purred, trying to strike up the shallow conversation they had been having earlier about the names of plants. She had learned she could get the teenager to ramble for an hour or so with a simple question like that, and then at the end of it at least she knew the names of things. It kept the poor pampered thing occupied.

"Er, lady?"

The trail behind Penden seemed to think the cat-person and her horse had come alone. Nope, no Lady Elendl here! <********> Utle complained. She had been of a noble sort herself once and didn't appreciate the whining, sniveling type she saw so much of on this world. Let's find her and hog tie her in a tree.

No offense but that is not one of your brightest plans. We need the money, remember?

We would lie about it, of course!

Penden snorted in response, tempted but not stupid enough to go along. Utle always had this wild notion that she could get out of anything. Usually she was right, but this time the trouble simply wasn't worth it.

Utle gave up on her own suggestion when Penden turned the horse and started back. To an outside observer it often seemed as if Penden was the mage, but it was actually Utle inside of her, and if Utle wanted to make things difficult she could. Luckily, this time she just wanted to get the whole thing over with so that they could go back to quiet musing. She sent out tendrils like search dogs between the trees where Elendl had probably dissappeared. The girl was a budding sort of mage herself and would trigger a signal if one of those tendrils merely touched her.

Nothing happened. "She's dead," came a quiet male voice a considerable distance behind them. Penden whirled the horse so fast it half-reared in protest-- or maybe it didn't like the man it was whirling to face.

I've got some bad news, Utle began in a tentative whisper. That's an old friend of mine...His name is Fenrir...

Mine was just for laughs. biggrin

I know, I know. xd Fenrir: heart Choco, I like reading star wars, I just can't write it ninja