1. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    Keen across the ears, yet, dulled as she still is, Lefelen’s whistle evokes no strong reaction from Osytha. Her eyes but peel slowly open and draw toward the grinning elf. Guffy, however, perks right up. It’s jarred Hector out of his reply, as well. Osytha thinks she can more or less guess what...
  2. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    “Oh — shit.” Four pairs of eyes, varying mixes of wild and wary, watch the rider canter along the road. The horse begins to slow, to a trot, and then walks to a stop fairly close to the four women. The beast directs a blank sort of gaze their way, like it’s expecting them to know what to do...
  3. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    “’Appen so… who’s to say ’ow things would’ve turned aht otherwise, now.” Osytha moves on to giving the little dog in her lap a few scratches aback of his ears. That curious nose of his continues to snuffle Hector’s hand, and then his tongue comes out to give the forge-knight a lick. Meanwhile...
  4. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    Am I? A ‘true knight’. I have my doubts… had my share of them even afore today. I don’t actually know what that really means, let alone if it’s even what I want for missen. Is being a Knight allus the answer? “Nay,” Osytha murmurs, at last. “Nay, Ah don’t reckon Ah am. Ah reckon Ah’m allus...
  5. Osytha

    Private Home Away From Home

    Meri glances at Osytha, a tinge of confusion in her smile now. The old girl’s never been too good with jokes; probably she’s wondering if she’s missed some sort of euphemism in there, or maybe she isn’t sure just how literally to take Momo’s dust-up with the ground. Osytha looks over from where...
  6. Osytha

    Open Emergency Ordinance

    “Are you of Dusk or Dawn?” Osytha’s face falls a little when she hears that. Syr Monroe really doesn’t remember her, then? Sure, perhaps the two of them had never been close… but only by the standards of the order, where your oath-kin are people you live, fight, and die right alongside with...
  7. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    All the little noises fill their silence for them after that. Osytha, knelt there in the moss, weighing up his words. Unsure of what to even measure them against. She turns her head aside, like the answer’s to be found somewhere past the trees. “Ah’m sorry, tha’rt sorry. Syr Lando were sorry,”...
  8. Osytha

    Private Home Away From Home

    Osytha sniffs. “S’pose et’s got ets advantages ower city life,” she concedes. “Ets fair share of downsides an’ all, mind you. ’S a bit ’ard to lose yersen chasin’ your ambitions when a serf en’t allowed to ’ave any. Plus, they grows a special kind of bloody-mindedness aht ’ere. But… folk ’ere do...
  9. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    When she sees it, Osytha knows: that’s the busy scramble of men getting their shit in one sock. While the others deliberate, she’s tying off her arming cap and pulling the sallet down over her head. Then Faramund says the words she knew, for all their prior talk of luck and hope, had been...
  10. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    It’s so very, very quiet in the aftermath. The glade itself, that as well; this green-draped screen encircling them holds the world at bay, and all is still here but for its phyllous sighs, that continuing parade of twitchy avian visitors, and the clacking-marble call of diminutive sunset frogs...
  11. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    Facing dead ahead, a grum cast to her features as Osytha squints in the glaring sunlight; masking, too, the play of her eyes through that impending brush… then to the sides, for anything at their flanks. Is this it, then — an ambush, as they’d all feared? Doesn’t seem like their attackers have...
  12. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    It’s a searching kind of look, but for what, Osytha can’t say. She holds Faramund’s gaze for a second, then turns her head to scan down the convoy, and falls into step alongside the dawnling. The beat of her shoes is a high-timbred contrast with the other knight’s deeper tread as they crunch...
  13. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    “I’d sooner ’ope that critter stay put aback of us.” Osytha eyes the end of her now-poopstick, briefly appraising its potential for mischief. Nothing sufficiently harmless comes to mind, though, so in the end she just tosses it into the grass and then jogs to catch up with Faramund. “If we en’t...
  14. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    “Mind the peeven Of Syr Steven, Who t’walways needs Himself relieven’.” The corners at Osytha’s lips flutter madly — the gravity of it all crumbling away at this burst of sheer, wonderful absurdity. As soon as she hears the snickering rise up around her, she knows it’s all over for her. The...
  15. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    Osytha glances over the loci on Hector’s body as he had indicated them, and which now bear the seals in shimmering resin: Loch, Life, Flame, Death and Wyld; brow, heart, under-navel, left wrist, right wrist. “Well, then,” she remarks, and her fingers start unlacing the neckline of her shirt...
  16. Osytha

    Private Home Away From Home

    Something Osytha has noticed — Momoshiro is using an awful lot of the past tense in speaking about his family. She rests her gaze on the back of his neck, and wonders if it’s simply because the memories he has just feel like they’re from that long ago… or if, perhaps, he has a few less souls...
  17. Osytha

    Private An Antidote for All Abnegations

    “You’d suffer — I mean, you’d do that for me?” “Easy, tiger.” Osytha gives Syr Sabinian a look halfway between surprise and amusement. “They’s just bairns. But aye, I’ll mind the tykes if’n that would be a help. In truth, I don’t minds ’em so much.” I believe you told me before, the pup’s name...
  18. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    “You know your seals? Loch, Life, Flame, Wyld and Death. “…That one always gives me trouble.” That seems to resonate, for it pulls a touch of a smile to the edges of Osytha’s lips. Something sympathetic, there. “Startin’ at yon snath or ear, et’s easy to get t’proportions wrong once you...
  19. Osytha

    Private Now Hands That Build

    By reflex more than anything else, Osytha snatches the twig out the air as it lops toward her. “Nay fear,” she tells Faramund, while giving the stick a nonplussed little look. “I survived after our Guffers getten into Syr Noa’s soft cheeses. Et’ll tak more’n thy manky clogs to fell me.” Osytha...
  20. Osytha

    Private An Ash Strewn Hope

    “I am glad thou were able to be there for him, Osytha… Truly Syr, I thank thee.” What is there to say at that? ‘You’re welcome’? ‘It was nothing’? She could say she’s sorry, but even apologising would be to dismiss the pained man’s gratitude, in a way. So she just gives him another sad smile...
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