Agnes Smith THE LAST BASQUE We too, we too, descending once again The hills of our own land, we too have heard Far off- Ah, que ce cor a longue haleine- The horn of Roland in the passages of Spain, The first, the second blast, the failing third, And with the third turned back and climbed once more The steep road southward, and heard faint the sound Of swords, of horses, the disastrous war, And crossed the dark defile at last, and found At Roncevaux upon the darkening plain The dead against the dead and on the silent ground The silent slain- Archibald MacLeish, "The Too-Late Born" The Pyrenees 849 A.D. Once again heading off to a new life, with a small cash purse, your arms, and the horses, you travel south from Bordeaux. The land is a bit gentler here; bandits don't seem to be lurking in every shaded grove, though there is still worry from Viking raids on the coast. However, soon you approach the Pyrenees. These tall, craggy mountains present as great an obstacle as the Alps to the east. They separate Iberia from France, and there are few passes through them. Sancho once mentioned that the best time to cross the Pyrenees is late spring or early summer; before then, the passes tend to be filled with snow, and after that time, before the snows come again, rain makes the passes treacherous. You have arrived at an opportune time. But the foreboding cliffs seem to rise forever. They wait for you, ominously. The ascent will be difficult, and if bandits or Immortals lurk in those mountains, you will have little chance of avoiding them. <><><><><> [Agnes] She stares out at the mountains. So soon after the Alps, there is a sense of foreboding about them. Still, going back is worse than going forwards. She pushes on towards the mountains. <><><><><> [GM] The horses don't like the ascent at all. There are no real roads up and through the cliffs, just a few inclines that are merely arduous as opposed to impossible. It takes a few days to get past the initial northern slopes, and into the mountains proper. You took the wrong way and found yourself in blind canyons several times. Eventually, you find a route that you think will go all the way through, by chancing on some rocks at a clearing with graffiti carved into them...someone spent a lot of time and care carving a cross two feet high onto one cliff-face, but nearby there's a crude stick-figure of a man with an impossibly large sex organ, and something that's probably supposed to be a woman lying at his feet. An ironic mix of the sacred and the profane, possibly left by the same army encampment, or perhaps left by different groups of travelers many years apart. At any rate, it tells you others have been by this way before. The main city on the other side of the Pyrenees, the one which everyone comes to upon emerging, is Pamplona. But before you get there, you descend into a little valley that harbors the first signs of human settlement since you entered the mountain range. It's not even a village, just a widely scattered collection of shepherd's cottages. You can see some of the shepherds at a distance, with their flocks. None of them approach you, though you can feel them watching you as you pass through the valley of Roncevalles. <><><><><> [Agnes] Much as she would rather not attract attention, she would rather spend the night in shelter than out of doors. She makes her way down the slope into the valley, making sure that her course takes her close enough to one of the cottages to make it look like she just happened to be passing, but wasn't going there deliberately. She paused, sitting astride her horse, and looked to see if there was activity inside. <><><><><> [GM] There is activity there, or more accurately, was. As you approach, a middle-aged man emerges to watch you, and as you approach closer still, he flees the cottage, heading up the slope towards a small wooded grove, carrying a long staff. <><><><><> [Agnes] She pauses to watch his flight, and alters her direction to let it take her close to another cottage. This time though, she'll attempt to call to any fleeing in Spanish to find out why they are running away. <><><><><> [GM] The couple in this cottage doesn't flee, but the younger man brandishing a cudgel definitely looks intimidated by the armored woman riding down on him. Behind him, a woman about your (apparent) age looks on nervously. He squints when you address him in Spanish, and answers back in an abominable accent, "No see many travelers. No riders alone. No woman with knife." He waves his club, not threateningly, but to indicate his little cottage. "No have nothing to give." <><><><><> [Agnes] She looks at him, and smiles. "I don't want you to *give* anything. I will pay you money for the privilege of sharing the warmth of your fire and the roof over your head for one night, and then I shall ride on. If you can spare some food, then I shall pay you for that too." Still sitting relaxed upon her horse, and not yet making any attempt to dismount, she asks, "Do we have a deal?" <><><><><> [GM] The man considers a moment, then turns and exchanges a few words with his wife, in a language you don't know. It doesn't sound remotely like Spanish. He turns back and nods. "Yes, stay, one night." He lowers his cudgel and watches you a little nervously, and a little curiously. "A little food, maybe." <><><><><> [Agnes] She smiles, and replies, "A deal," and dismounts. She leads her horses up to the house and ties them up. Then, with her back to them, she gets out her purse, and sifts out silver and copper coins to what she considers to be a generous payment for a night's lodgings. Slipping her purse back down under the front of her chainmail, she turns again and walks towards the door. Stopping at the entrance, she offers the man her coins, palm upwards in her right hand, and once he has taken them she returns to her horses to begin unloading them. The Horses she will stable in the animal room of the building, all her equipment, she will keep with her. She remains civil and pleasant with her hosts throughout <><><><><> [GM] The man's name is Xabat, his wife's name is Olatz. They serve you some fresh, rather bland bread, and mutton stew. The woman regards you with some curiousity, but more suspicion. She apparently does not speak any Spanish at all. Xabat is more curious, but his wife keeps jabbing him or snapping at him in their language, trying to discourage him from talking to you too much. He does manage to ask where you're from and if you're going to Pamplona. A little before you're ready to go to bed, some voices call out from outside the cottage, repeating Xabat's name. He yells back, and then shrugs at you with an apologetic smile. "My friends, ask of you, so I talk them." He gets up and goes out. Olatz is stitching some cloth, and glances at you, half-smiles, then looks back at her work. <><><><><> [Agnes] She remains pleasant enough to her hosts, replying that she has come from Bordeaux, and is indeed heading for Pamplona. She asks him the best route, and whether the snow has completely cleared from it, and other mundane things, not really expecting him to know much beyond the confines of this valley. She nods to Xabat, watches him leave, and then rises herself, apparently to fiddle with her saddlebags and equipment. She casually moves things out of the way, in such a manner that as she squats by the bag, her shield is in a position to be grabbed by her left hand, and the sword drawn by her right. She had expected to possibly be attacked late at night, but over-confidence in numbers may cause them to all burst through the door right away. She is certainly glad that she hasn't taken off her chain, and decides against it for the rest of her stay. She keeps the door in her field of view, as she pretends to look through the saddlebag, and waits to see how many re-enter the room. <><><><><> [GM] Xabat can only tell you, "Some snow, high up," holding his hand above his head to illustrate. "Should be good now, but if it get cold maybe hard to travel." After a while, Xabat reenters, alone. He gestures at you, and says "No many visitors. They ask question," trying to explain. He shrugs, and goes back to the shoe he was mending. He and his wife continue working for a little while, then it's time to turn in. They lay down on the floor, several feet apart, Olatz conspicuously placing herself between you and Xabat. <><><><><> [Agnes] She lays out her equipment, and toys with the idea of taking off her chainmail, but in the end decides against it. With her sword by her side, having quietly drawn it out of its sheath, and her dagger by her left hand, she allows herself to doze, listening to the sounds of the other two in the room, and the animals outside. As she lies there, staring at the ceiling, she concludes that she would have been better off sleeping outside - it was softer than the floor and she would probably have taken off her chain. She is not entirely convinced that the chance of warmth, being out of the wind and rain, and some hot food were entirely worth it. <><><><><> [GM] Sleeping in chainmail is very uncomfortable. But your sleep is undisturbed. Xabat and Olatz get up before dawn for the morning chores; Xabat has a small collection of sheep. You awaken when they do, sore and cramped. But whatever fears you had about being attacked in the night seem to have been unjustified. They wave good-bye to you as you saddle up and head out of the valley, with the sun beginning to light up the sky. On the nearby slopes, the other valley dwellers watch you, but they seem pretty much occupied with tending their sheep. <><><><><> [Agnes] She decides that next time she will stay out-doors, unless she is in an inn where she can lock the door. The valley stretches out before and behind her as she looks back at the little collection of houses that she had completely misjudged. She shrugs. "Better that, than having misjudged it the other way round." She continues making her way towards Pamplona, looking forward to an inn. <><><><><> [GM] You are probably 2-3 days from Pamplona. You're about half a day away from the valley of Roncevalles when your fears do materialize. Two men step onto the trail in front of you, at a narrow pass where you can only go forward or backwards. "Stop," says one man in Spanish. One of these bandits has a bow. <><><><><> [Agnes] She takes up her shield and rides at them. She decides that on a pass this narrow, they were going to have trouble getting out of the way of two galloping horses. If there is time, she'll draw her sword too, but she's content to just barge past by weight of galloping animal. <><><><><> [GM] "Stop!" the man yells. "I said STOP!" The man with the bow is drawing back the string, but decides time spent aiming would be better spent trying to avoid getting trampled. The arrow shoots over your head, and the two men throw themselves aside. You can't tell whether either of them were trampled, as you're busy drawing your sword, and already past them. However, they were not the only ones. An arrow bounces off the cliff on your right, and another sticks in the flank of your poor already once- wounded horse behind you. While it's neighing in pain, you feel a sharp pain in your own back. The cliffs along this pass aren't that high above the trail you're following....twenty feet on average. And you can't tell how many more bowmen might be hiding up there, but as another arrow goes sailing over your head, you know this is going to be a difficult gauntlet to escape from. <><><><><> [Agnes] Given that she can't see any of the bowmen, stopping would seem futile. She presses on, pushing the horses to go as fast as she is safe with. A thought enters her head as she rides. "I really must learn how to use a bow." <><><><><> [GM] You don't know how many archers are up there, but at least they aren't fantastic shots. Arrows are raining down on you, but most miss. Two do not. One barely penetrates your chainmail sleeve, but stabs into your elbow joint and creates such agonizing pain that you drop your sword. Another smacks against the back of your skull, but bounces off. Relatively unhurt (the pain in your back is already fading; the arrow did not stick), but disarmed, you don't even get a chance to consider stopping to retrieve your sword when a pair of spears leap at you from either side of the trail. The two spearmen weren't even particularly well- hidden, you just failed to spot them in time. Your shield stops one spearpoint, but the other plows into your chest, aided by your horse's momentum. You are lifted out of your saddle and go slamming into the ground, as the spear breaks and two feet of shaft is left projecting from your chest. Your mount keeps running, while you try to breathe, and struggle to hold onto consciousness. <><><><><> [Agnes] She tries to stay conscious, struggle to her feet and draw her dagger - all those things. She needs to find some time to recover. The pain throughout her body tells her she is in a thoroughly bad way, and it is not looking good. <><><><><> [GM] You haven't experienced pain like this since Peter ran you through with his sword, to show you what it could be like. In all the years since then, you've never actually been killed a second time. You know that supposedly an Immortal can be killed any number of times and still get up again....you've seen it happen. But you still feel the instinctive fear of death, a sickening dread accompanying the pain, the realization that you have a length of wood tipped with metal stuck in your chest, gouging your insides as you struggle to rise. You can feel blood gurgling in the back of your throat, threatening to bubble up into your mouth. You only get to your knees, before the man with the unbroken spear runs up to you and stabs you in the back. You feel the point sink into your flesh, and the impact forces you to the ground. Now the blood is frothing on your lips. You try to rise to your hands and knees again, and the spear is yanked roughly out of your back, and plunged back in again. You die. You awake with a start, and for a moment, taste saltwater. Then you realize you're lying on hard, rocky ground. Someone babbles excitedly, and you hear people moving and rocks clattering underfoot. You've been dragged into a small ravine, and left lying between two large rocks, but still in view of the bandits, who seem to be going through the contents of your bags. You feel lighter, and realize quickly that they stripped the chainmail off your body, and your boots and gloves and knife. Two men are staring at you now, having seen you move. <><><><><> [Agnes] She doesn't know if them seeing her move will have turned out to be a good or a bad thing. She tries to make the most of it. She stands up quickly and points at the two who have seen her. In Spanish she says, "The Devil has my soul now ... and now he wants yours." And then she runs at them. She hopes they will flee - she knows she would - but if not she will just have to fight them. *What a miserable outcome of events she tells herself.* <><><><><> [GM] The two men look frightened, drop what they were holding, and stumble backwards. Arrayed around the ravine are about ten men altogether. All of them look unnerved at your sudden resurrection, and those closest are retreating away from you. But half a dozen men are grabbing bows and nocking arrows. <><><><><> [Agnes] She runs at them, hoping to spot and retrieve a shield and a weapon of sorts as she goes. "You are all evil men, and I shall drag each and every one of you to hell with me!" If there are no easily reached weapons then she will head straight for the nearest archer, hoping to punch and kick him out of the fight. <><><><><> [GM] One of the men who was by your bags was holding your sword. He actually throws it at you, before running away from you, which is convenient. The sword spins past you, and it takes only a moment to retrieve it. However, by the time you've done so, several of the archers have raised their bows, and they begin firing at you. Half the arrows fly past you, while you charge at the nearest archer. But you can't evade the ones that come low. One grazes your calf, a second splits your left knee, and a third goes all the way through your right thigh. You go down in excrutiating pain, with both legs impaled. Fortunately, the pain doesn't last long; having frightened them with your yelling about Hell and the Devil, they keep firing arrows into you until you stop moving. You're a little more cautious when you awaken the second time, and try not to immediately move or open your eyes. But you immediately realize that pretending to be dead this time will be futile; you can feel another Immortal nearby. <><><><><> [Agnes] She very slowly opens one eye - just a slit. Just because there is an immortal nearby, doesn't mean that there are not a whole bunch of people ready to spit her with arrows once more. She lies perfectly still, breathing as shallowly as she can, and listens to try to establish what is going on, and where.. <><><><><> [GM] There is someone standing very close to you. You see the hem of a long skirt...and a sword, held casually at the person's side. You also realize that there are ropes wrapped around you, from your shoulders down to your ankles. The bandits apparently decided to take no chances with the possibility that you might spring up and attack them again. A female voice says in Spanish, "You can open your eyes now. I know you have recovered." <><><><><> [Agnes] She opens her eyes and looks about her, seeking the source of the voice. <><><><><> [GM] You are lying on the ground, but not in the ravine, or anywhere near the trail you were riding along. There are some trees scattered along a slight slope, and behind the speaker, there is a small cottage. The woman is short and sturdy, with surprisingly fair skin, and dark red hair that hangs below her waist. She's wearing a simple peasant blouse and skirt, and holding a long, thin sword. She smiles at you, but you can't tell if it's a friendly smile or not. "You certainly put a scare into them. 'The Devil will take your soul' indeed!" She chuckles. "You may even have turned a couple of them away from a life of banditry." You cannot see any other people nearby. <><><><><> [Agnes] She smiles back, "Well, I could hardly do much else. Two of them realised that I was still alive, when by rights I had been dead moments before. With no armour or weapons, I had to try something that would let me beat odds of 10 to 1." She nods at her bindings. "I didn't do very well though, for all that." "I am Agnes Smith, of Bernicia." "Are you going to untie me, leave me to rot, or cut off my head?" <><><><><> [GM] "Well, I certainly can't cut off your head like this. It would be against the Rules." She lays the point of her sword against your collarbone, just above the uppermost coil of rope. "Do you want to fight me?" <><><><><> [Agnes] She watches the blade as it descends to rest against her neck, and stares at it a while. "No. I don't particularly want to fight you, nor any other immortal. I'm quite content to go about my business without risking my neck challenging all and sundry to duels." "I'm quite content to not challenge you, if you would cut these bonds." <><><><><> [GM] The sword point moves downward, and begins cutting through the coils of rope. "I was just wondering, as you certainly appeared to be expecting trouble. That is, anyone who travels alone had better be heavily armed, but it's so rare for a woman to cross the Pyrenees by herself, I assumed you must be quite formidable, which suggests you might be a hunter." "Not that I am afraid of fighting you," she adds, continuing to cut your bonds one by one. "But neither am I looking for unnecessary duels." "My name is Bixenta, and this is my home. I have not heard of Bernicia....is it in France?" <><><><><> [Agnes] She smiles. "I think my singular lack of success in fending off the bandits shows that I am really not formidable at all." She flexes herself as the bonds are cut, and examines the state of her clothing. "As I said, I am not after a duel with you either." "Bernicia is in the north of Britannia, part of Northumbria." She stands as the last bonds are cut, and looks about. "I suppose the bandits took everything?" <><><><><> [GM] "Well, even the most formidable immortal can do little about being ambushed by ten men with bows, I think," Bixenta says. "I am afraid so," she replies, to your question about your belongings. Your clothes have multiple holes and tears, from the spear that went through your chest, and all the arrows that were shot into you. They're also stiff with dried blood. "I *might* be able to persuade them to give some of it back." She turns towards her cottage, and says "You're probably hungry and thirsty....one usually is, after being killed. Perhaps you will tell me how it is you come to be so far from home, and traveling alone towards Moor- land, while I prepare a meal?" <><><><><> [Agnes] Agnes shrugs. "I have been travelling around for a good many years now, but since Charlemagne's death things have got more and more dangerous. In the end I decided that I was going to have to settle down somewhere. Initially I chose Rome, but Rome obviously wasn't a good choice, as I'd already had a narrow escape from a hunter. So it was a matter of where else. I had intended to go back home. But it was such hard work just getting to Bordeaux, that I decided to head south. Once I got into Moor-land, I would put on a veil and a wedding ring, and travel in relative security." She sighs. "With the money I had on me, and with my spare horse, I would have bought some girl her freedom, on condition she served me a year and a day, and at least then I would have a chaperone for travel across the muslim lands." "Somehow, I can't see you being able to persuade them to give me back my money, my arms and my horses." She looks at her for clues. "What are these men to you? What would it be to you if I exacted revenge on them all, one by one?" "I have all the time in the world, after all, and they have effectively prevented me from continuing my journey." <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta looks amused. "Are all Bernicians so vengeful?" she asks. "I will have to remember that." "I must say, I find it amusing you thought it was a trial reaching Bordeaux, and so decided crossing the Pyrenees by yourself would be easier and safer. These mountains are harsh and unforgiving, and have killed many who failed to give them the proper respect." "Less than a hundred years ago, an entire army sent by Charlemagne was virtually destroyed, not far from here. The Franks underestimated these mountains, and those who dwell here." She looks serious for a moment, and lifts her sword to stare at the crosspiece on the hilt, before tucking it under her belt. Inside her cottage, she already has a fire going, and begins brewing some sort of stew in a large pot. Bixenta doesn't seem at all extraordinary; if you didn't sense the Quickening, you'd probably never suspect she was an immortal. Except that she seems to be scrutinizing you, just as you are trying to take her measure. You notice there are a large number of herbs, dried flowers, and animal skins and body parts hanging on her walls and from the low ceiling, and she has a number of earthen pots with lids stacked in the corner. She gestures at this parapharnelia, and says "The question is, what am I to them? They did bring you to me, after all." She gives you a sly smile. "I am a witch....or so they believe." "I know most of them...everybody in this area knows of me. I won't try to stop you if you're determined to hunt down the men who ambushed you, but I think it's foolish. How likely is it that you'll be able to get them all and never have the tables turned on you again?" "Now, I'm not sure if I can get your possessions back. They respect me a little, and they fear me quite a bit. Usually they come to me with their petty illnesses, or wanting help because a woman can't conceive, or a man can't get it up, or their sheep are sick, or they want a love charm, or a curse thrown at their neighbor because he's stealing their sheep...." She shrugs, stirring the pot. "A lot of people owe me favors. I could threaten to collect a couple of those promised first-born children." Her eyes twinkle; you can't tell if she's serious. "So assuming you can resume your journey....you would live among the Moors, and pretend to be a Moor's wife?" She shakes her head. "I do not like the Moors, though I'm not partial to the Franks either. Aren't you afraid of encountering a Moorish immortal?" <><><><><> [Agnes] "Am I not allowed to feel a little vengeful? They, have after all taken away all my worldly possessions, and had I have been mortal, my life too." She starts to walk about, partly to get the circulation going, sand partly to be nosey. "Travelling and encountering other immortals can't be so very different from standing still and having them encounter you. I knew one immortal who stood still, and built up all manner of protection about himself, only for a hunter to slice through it all and take his head. At least if I keep moving I won't need to worry about the mundane change of life every so often, and I won't have to worry about growing affectionate with mortals, or fending off suitors. As for the Moors and the Franks, I don't think there is much between them either. There are good and bad on both sides. I do know that the only good immortals that I know to still be alive were both in Tunisia. If I was with them, I wouldn't have to worry quite so much about hunters." She shrugs again. "However there is little point in dwelling on the plans that were. With nothing but the bloodstained and torn garments that I stand in, I shan't be going anywhere for a while, never mind get to Tunisia. " "I am your guest, and I wouldn't want to do anything to upset you, or upset your relations with the locals. Is there anything I can do to help pay for your hospitality?" <><><><><> [GM] "Tunisia?" Bixenta looks at you oddly. "Where Carthage once stood? And who do you know in Tunisia?" "Well, since the locals took all your possessions, no, there probably is not much you can do to repay me, though since I do stand still, I would like to hear more of your travels, and the immortals you have met." She serves up some of her stew, which is very good, if simple fare. <><><><><> [Agnes] "Kemal ibn-Hakim ibn-Daud haj, is the immortal I stayed with in Tunis. His mentor, Techo, was also there when I left." She tucks heartily into Bixenta's stew, and starts to relate her travels, and the immortals that featured in them, including the duels, and including Antonella's part in them. <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta stiffens, and nearly drops her spoon. "Kemal...Kemal ibn-Hakim!" She stares at you. "*He* is your...friend?" <><><><><> [Agnes] "Yes," she replies, continuing in a conversational tone. After all, she's hardly in a position to do anything against Bixenta. "I can see that he isn't yours though. Did you encounter him when he was this way maybe 15 years or so ago, or does your animosity reach further back?" <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta looks shaken, but resumes ladling out stew. "Twenty-two years ago," she says. She looks up at you with her face fixed impassively. "What is he to you, and you to him?" <><><><><> [Agnes] "We first met in Aquitaine. Despite a day which saw two immortals killed, including his fledgeling, he refused to fight me." "We next met, after I had been captured in Rome by Saracen raiders and sent into slavery with many others. He bought me and one who will be immortal after her first death. Despite considerable provocation by me, he gave us both our freedom. Later, at considerable risk to himself, he made good my and the other girl's escape after capture by the Berbers. He is stubborn, fanatically religious but, I believe, honourable." She meets Bexenta's eye. "Though you probably disagree about that." "Antonella, the other girl, was homesick. So Kemal arranged our passage, and I took her back to Rome. Philip, however happened upon the scene, and decided to relieve me of my protegé." "And how did you meet Kemal?" <><><><><> [GM] "Kemal ibn-Hakim killed my husband," Bixenta says slowly. She fixes you with a cold stare. "Honorable he may be....I don't care. But for twenty-two years I have prayed he would come back through these mountains, so I could avenge my true love." "A pity," she murmurs, as she draws her sword. "I suppose vengeance is often a bitter brew. I was beginning to like you." <><><><><> [Agnes] As the woman starts to go for her sword, Agnes hurls a bowl of the piping hot stew at Bixenta's face, and follows it closely by snatching whatever metal utensil is upon the table, and hurling herself at the woman. She intends to get into a rough brawl with the woman, and stop her from using the sword. Driving the snatched utensil into her would be good too, but that would be a luxury. <><><><><> [GM] Your bubbling stew splashes all over her face. She screams and swings her sword wildly in your direction while covering her eyes with her other hand. The only metal utensil is an old knife she used to chop radishes, rusty and dull, though capable of making a nasty wound if you stab hard enough. You snatch it up, and Bixenta jumps back, slashing in your direction again, coming a little closer, but still blinded by the stew. "It can't be a coincidence!" she hisses. "It's fate! Die!" She nearly catches you in the side of the head when you throw yourself at her, but you narrowly duck the blade, and hit her high, bringing her down in a headlong tackle. She grunts and tries to throw you off of her as you land together on the floor. <><><><><> [Agnes] She is determined that the other woman will not get to her feet to use the sword. This fight will be on the ground. But for the moment she decides to make use of her momentary advantage and tries to drive her knife into Bixenta's chest. She'll follow it up with a few punches, knees, headbuts: anything that seems likely to work. But as soon as the woman starts to try to rise or get away, Agnes will grab her sword arm, and hold her in place. <><><><><> [GM] You manage to jab her in the chest, tearing her blouse and drawing some blood, but not doing any serious damage. Bixenta hisses again and tries to kick you. You tussle for a few moments, punching and kicking at each other. Bixenta manages to grab your knife hand and peel a couple of fingers back, bending them painfully but not enough to force you to release your grip. You elbow her in the chest, then slam her right arm against the floor. Bixenta begins trying to struggle free. You grab her sword-arm with one hand, holding onto the knife with the other. Bixenta tries to punch you in the face, then tries to pull her arm free, but you are a little stronger than her, and force her to let go of the sword. She screams and grabs for your throat with her left hand, and digs her fingernails in. <><><><><> [Agnes] With both Bixenta's hands occupied, one around her own throat and one held in her other hand, Agnes tries stabbing Bixenta again, making sure that this time it goes in. And she intends to keep trying until Bixenta lets go of her throat. As she makes her first attempt, she comments, "You know, maybe it is fate. You see, Kemal is my husband." <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta's face contorts in rage. "Then he will suffer as I have!" she snarls. Then you stick the knife in her chest, all the way to the worn and splintered hilt. She gasps, but holds onto your throat. Her grip, however, slackens a bit, and she fails to keep a good stranglehold on you. You pull the knife out, and plunge it into her again. She shudders, and lets go of your throat, fighting to break free instead. She manages to pull her other hand free of your grip, and rolls, not throwing you off, but deflecting the angle of your next thrust so you don't stab her as deeply. Blood is splattered all over both of you now, and the rusty knife is dripping with it. <><><><><> [Agnes] Blood is everywhere, but Agnes doesn't really notice. She is focussed on staying alive, and that means killing Bixenta. Now that the woman has broken free, she becomes less single-minded about her attacks. She tries to stop her getting away, and makes to grab the woman again with her left hand, Should she succeed, she'll try to hit her again with the knife. Should she fail, well she will just try again. Agnes knows she has a temporary advantage that will only last as long as Bixenta isn't given a chance to recover. She intends to deny her that opportunity. <><><><><> [GM] You grab Bixenta, as she tries to pick up her sword again. She snarls in fury and swings at your face, but neither of you is doing too well brawling on the floor. Your knife swing is thrown off by her punch, and she closes her hand on the hilt of the long sword. However, you aren't in that much danger unless she can break free of you and clear enough room between you to swing it, which she now tries to do. Successfully. She breaks your grip and rolls away. You narrowly miss her with a lunge with the knife, and she begins shakily trying to stand, with blood pouring down her front. <><><><><> [Agnes] She rolls towards the woman again, trying to get close enough to grab her and pull her to the ground, or grab her sword arm, whichever is easiest. Agnes strikes out with her knife when she can, trying to inflict as much damage as she can on the woman. She is determined to try to stay inside the other woman's swing. The last thing she wants is to be hit by the sword. At the same time, she wants to keep damaging Bixenta, so that the woman can't recover. <><><><><> [GM] You close on her again, and wrap one arm around her waist, holding her close while you prepare to strike with the knife again. She makes a gurgling cry of anger of frustration, and tries unsuccessfully to shake you off as you plunge the knife into her side. She grunts and tries to break free again, but you have a good hold on her. With her struggles, she makes it hard to stab her, though. On the other hand, all the wounds you've inflicted seem to be making her weaker, and you're having no trouble hanging onto her. "You'll never get....out of the mountains....alive," she says, through gritted teeth. "Those men....they do MY bidding..." You jab her again with the knife, but it merely scrapes against her ribs. She makes a mighty effort to shake you off, but you stay clinging to her and inside her sword-arc, so she can't hit you with it, try as she might. <><><><><> [Agnes] Agnes continues to try to stab her opponent with the knife, whilst hanging on to her. Any qualms she may have had are slipping away, replaced with angry determination. Bixenta was willing to break the rules and attack her and probably take her head whilst she was unarmed. And now she is claiming that she has primed the brigands to do her killing for her. "You were right, Bixenta, vengeance is a bitter brew," she says as she continues to try to kill the woman, "So bitter that you were willing to ignore The Rules for it." With a hint of sadness in her voice, and as she drives in the knife again, she continues, "You know what that means, don't you?" <><><><><> [GM] "I didn't break the Rules!" she gasps. She almost catches you in the side with an elbow, but flinches as you jab her again. "Let me go!" You can't tell whether she is demanding or pleading. For the sixth, or seventh, or tenth time, you're losing track, you stab her, but the small knife just can't seem to do sufficient damage to put her down. She swings her fist downwards, and it bounces off your thigh. This blocks your next thrust, but no matter.....Bixenta makes a gurgling sound, and sags in your grip, like a blood-soaked rag doll. The sword falls out of her hand. <><><><><> [Agnes] She lets Bixenta fall to the floor, and gets up herself. Putting the knife in her skirt pocket, she wipes her hands and picks up the sword. Just moments before, in the heat of the fight, she had decided that she'd drag the body outside, and chop off the head. Now, though, she's not so sure. She stands a moment, sword in hand, regarding Bixenta, and is torn. What if it was just a ruse? Agnes would never escape through the mountains if Bixenta sent her men to track her down. What if she was going to break the rules before? It wouldn't stop her breaking them again. Why else would she have drawn her sword against her, if it wasn't to kill her and take her head? Shaking her head, and still not really knowing what to do, Agnes puts the sword down behind herself and out of Bixenta's reach, and using the knife, cuts strips of cloth from the other woman's skirt. She uses them to bind Bixenta's hands together as tightly as she can, as if she was binding a load to a pack animal. Then she binds the woman's feet together, and finally pulls both pairs of limbs out in front of the woman, and binds hands to feet. Pocketing the knife again, she recovers the sword, and then clears away anything sharp that could be used to cut the bonds. Finally, she starts to explore the cottage, being alert to the re- emergence of the quickening when the other woman comes alive again. <><><><><> [GM] The Quickening has not diminished. Bixenta's cottage has an amazing variety of herbs, powders, leaves and roots, and cheap glassware filled with all sorts of concotions whose purpose you couldn't even guess at. If she is not truly a witch, she must be a very accomplished herbalist. You do find some other parapharnelia...crystals, oddly-weathered rocks, and chipped tools, and old stones with ancient, indecipherable symbols painted on them, a couple of metal rods and an iron knife that gives you a strange chill when you touch it....things which do look like the trappings a witch might use to perform her rituals. Or the trappings an immortal might use to put on a show and persuade mortals she is a witch. What you don't find is any other weapons, besides her sword and the knife. You also don't find any books or scrolls or other written materials. By the time you're done, Bixenta is starting to stir. Her wounds haven't closed completely, but she regains consciousness and utters a muffled choking sound as she jerks suddenly against her bonds. <><><><><> [Agnes] She sits down on a chair by the table, laying the sword across her knees, congealing blood still covering her and her clothes. She watches Bixenta come to. "Tell me, Bixenta. What were you planning to do to me when you drew your sword, and I sat unarmed at the table?" <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta struggles briefly with her bonds, then relents, wincing while a couple of her wounds reopen. "Kill you!" she hisses, in response. Then she slumps slightly. Her expression is wary, but now uncertain, though not yet fearful. "I was stunned, consumed by thoughts of vengeance. I don't know what I would have done once I struck you down," she says. She looks at the sword in your lap. "I took you into my home, offered you my hospitality, and you were unarmed...." For a moment, she looks regretful, but then her expression hardens. "But you are the wife of the man who slew my husband!" <><><><><> [Agnes] She sighs, and stands up holding the sword loosely in her hand. "I believe you would have cut off my head, despite not even knowing at the time that I was Kemal's wife." With a heavy heart, and almost forcing herself to say the words, she continues, "I have no option but to kill you, Bixenta. I believe you broke the rules, and even if you didn't I defeated you. And what do you expect me to do. Unbind a woman who has already attacked me when I was her guest, and who claims to have a horde of brigands to do her bidding. As you pointed out it will be difficult enough for me to get out of the mountains without you directing their efforts and seeking revenge." She takes a firm grip on the sword and walks towards the woman. Putting off the awful deed a little longer, she asks, "Is there anything you want passed on, or done?" <><><><><> [GM] She seems to bite back an angry retort, and instead says "You think I might have broken the Rules; if you kill me now, you *will* break the Rules." <><><><><> [Agnes] She stands looking at the prone woman. "Oh? How do you manage to work that out? I don't consider myself to be breaking the rules. I see your condition as merely a continuation of our fight, a last chance to talk, since you passed out before we could finish. A chance for you to redeem yourself even. Would you rather I had just taken your head there and then? Or even that I take it here and now?" She steps away, and sits down on the chair again, inwardly relieved to be able to put off the deed even longer. "Convince me Bixenta. Convince me either that I would be breaking The Rules, or that I have any other option than take your head." <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta tests the cloth ties again, briefly, considering your words. "It sounds as if you want to be convinced," she says. "What do you want from me? I won't beg for my life. Nor will I will forswear my vengeance against Kemal ibn-Hakim." She glares at you. Her expression becomes more calculating, as she says "But I *can* get you your horses and your weapons back, and maybe even some of your valuables. And I can guarantee you safe passage out of the mountains....at least, not harrassed by the bandits hereabouts." <><><><><> [Agnes] "I have no particular desire to take your head, Bixenta. And as for your grudge against Kemal, that is between you and him. I would much rather have my horses and valuables back than take your head, and then I'd leave you in peace in your mountains." She shrugs. "I can either tell Kemal you are waiting for him, or not. As you desire." "Now. Tell me why I should trust you to keep your word. I would certainly be unwise to just cut your bonds and let you go. Is there some Holy Ground where I can wait?" <><><><><> [GM] "You can trust me because I want a fair duel with you," Bixenta says. "You can take my head now, while I am tied up and helpless, and even if you've rationalized it in your own mind, I think you will still feel guilt over it, and you may not be sure that you won't be tainted by the deed....slaying another immortal who is bound and helpless is not an honorable thing, even if you *think* the situation lets you slip around the Rules." She watches your face carefully. "If you kill me, the Quickening will alert the bandits. They will be fearful, but they'll no longer be surprised to see you alive again, and with me dead, they'll be furious. How many different ways do you suppose they'll try to kill you before they get around to cutting your head off? Or perhaps burying you under a heavy rock, so you can spend the rest of your life trapped in the ground." "They know these mountains, and you don't. And you'd have only my sword. You'll never get away from them." "But if you agree to fight me, I will bring your possessions back first, and command the bandits to let you pass unmolested. If you win, you'll be free to go. If not-" her eyes narrow, "I have my vengeance on your husband." <><><><><> [Agnes] She listens to Bixenta's argument without comment. "Very well," she says, standing up. "We'll go to some holy ground first. Then you can go and get what you can of my possessions, and you tell the bandits to let me pass if when leave. And then, if vengeance still burns in your heart, we will fight." She takes the knife out of her pocket, gets up and walks to Bixenta. She bends down and cuts the cloth that binds the woman's feet together. That done she re-pockets the knife, and with the sword in her left hand grabs Bixenta's hands with her right, and pulls the woman to her feet. She walks back to the table and sets the two bowls upon it once more. "It would be a shame to waste your stew, and I think we could both do with some now." She indicates a chair for Bixenta to sit on, and when she has, ladles out the stew into the two bowls, setting a spoon out by each. "How old are you Bixenta?" Agnes asks as she takes her place at the other end of the table, and props the sword against her leg. "And how long have you been in these mountains?" <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta laughs hollowly. "Are you trying to gauge my ability?" she asks. "Or hoping to engage my sympathies so I'll no longer want to kill you?" She looks at the stew and the spoon for a moment, then picks up the bowl with both hands, and sips out of it, rather than trying to manipulate the spoon with her wrists bound together. "I was born in these mountains, about two hundred years ago. I have never been out of them." She sets the bowl down, and looks at you coldly. "My husband, Unai, was much older. He was a descendant of the settlers who first came to these mountains, millenia ago." "For all those centuries, he was the only Basque immortal. He never met an elder Basque, and there are no stories of such individuals in our legends. Until he found me, he thought he was destined to be the only one." "He was the only one who remembered the origins of our people. He held the secrets of our race." Her eyes are bright and intense. "We are not like the Moors, or the Iberians, or the Celts, or the Franks. We came here from across the sea, before the Greeks were civilized. Our bloodlines are more ancient than the Latin pig-farmers who eventually became the Romans. There are secrets buried in these mountains that you can't begin to imagine...." Her look becomes hateful. "And your *husband* claimed all those secrets with a stroke of his sword, as if Unai was just another immortal for him to duel. Just another notch on his sword, I suppose." "If I can't kill him, I will kill his wife." Her voice is bitter. "Now, let us go to the holy ground where you can wait safely for my return. I really do not wish to sit here making pleasant conversation with you." <><><><><> [Agnes] She shrugs. "I was just trying to find out a little about you, so that when I kill you, you will not be gone. But if you would rather just stew in your thirst for vengeance than talk, so be it." She finishes her stew and stands, shivering slightly as she realises what they must look like to an outsider, two women covered in drying blood, with clothes perforated by many weapon-strikes. "I don't know about you, but I think I'd rather wash before going. Is there a stream, or have you a well?" <><><><><> [GM] "It's hard to dig a well here," Bixenta says. "There is a stream just on the other side of the wild hedge behind my cottage." She goes with you to the stream, but does not join you in the water, just sits on a rock and watches you coldly while you bathe. Being draped in bloody garments doesn't seem to bother her. The water is extremely cold, and you can barely stand it. You emerge shivering, with your skin turning blue. When you're finished, she says "Shall we go?" <><><><><> [Agnes] She finishes puting on her now wet, but less bloody clothes. "Okay, Bixenta. Lead on." Agnes walks just a yard or so behind and just to the side of the woman as they set off. <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta leads you up the slope rising from her cottage, and across a steep ridge. It occurs to you this would be a good place for her bandit allies to ambush you. But you seem to be all alone in the mountains, with a chill early spring wind blowing across you, in your tattered, damp clothes. Bixenta is as sure-footed as a mountain goat, walking along the rocky terrain without slipping or losing her balance, even hindered with her wrists tied together in front of her. You almost lose your footing several times. Bixenta makes no move to turn on you, though, just looks back and waits for you to recover your balance. Eventually you come to a small flat saddle between two hilltops, with a magnificent view of the Pyrenees stretching out to either side, for miles and miles. It's the most scenic dueling ground you've ever seen. In the middle of the flat area is a ring of ancient, weathered standing stones, not unlike the stone circles you've seen in your native Britain. These are so ancient and worn that they almost appear to be a natural part of the landscape. However, as you follow Bixenta into their midst, you can feel, very, very slightly, the brush of sanctuary against your Quickening sense. "It is an ancient site," Bixenta says, looking out over the valleys that fall away from you. "Not used any more by mortals. I don't think anyone but me even knows about this place, anymore. But still, it is holy ground." She turns to you and holds out her wrists. "Now untie me, and I will go get your things. I will try to be back by nightfall, but it might take me until dawn." <><><><><> [Agnes] She takes out the knife, and cuts Bixenta's bonds. "Very well, Bixenta. I will be here." She watches the woman go. The scene spread before her is awe inspiring and humbling. She watches the other wooman become smaller and smaller against God's work. <><><><><> [GM] You are left meditating in the stone circle for many hours. It is quite cold up here, and your damp dress gives you little protection from the chill. You finally sit down with your back to one of the stones, to give you a little shelter from the wind. The sun sets, and the mountaintops become dark. Here at the top of the Pyrenees, there are not so many animals, so you aren't afflicted with as many night noises. But you spend a very cold night here, alternately worrying that Bixenta might be treacherous enough to return with bandits armed with bows, or just wondering if she is sleeping in a nice warm bed while you freeze up here. A few hours before dawn, you sense the Quickening, and then hear the sounds of heavy footsteps coming up the slope. Bixenta is leading your two horses. "It took a while to lead them around the ridge," she says. She comes to the edge of the stone circle. She is almost invisible in the darkness. "I have your horses, your sword, your armor and your shield. It was too much trouble to insist on all the tack and coins and other miscellaneous items, which have probably been distributed far and wide already. I did pack some food for you....just in case you win." She steps onto the holy ground, and holds out your sword. "Let us exchange swords, I would prefer my own." "And unless you enjoy fighting in the dark, I suggest we wait until sunrise." She stands an arms' length away, facing you. "I have no armor, or shield. So I think it only fair that yours remain on the horse." <><><><><> [Agnes] She feels a deep sense of loss at the money that has gone, when Bixenta says that she hasn't even tried to recover it. It is going to be a hard grind to amass that again. She takes holsd of the reins from Bixenta and hands her her sword. "I think the morning is a better idea." She leads the horse off to one side, and stkes them out. Then she unsaddles them both, partly to make things comfortable for them, and partly to see just what it is that Bixenta has recovered. She does hope that the miscellaneous items not recovered didn't include her bed-roll. She checks her sword and knife, her sling and shot, her shield and armour. And then she looks for Peter's sword ... And is upset not to find it. She starts to mentally prepare herself for the morning. <><><><><> [GM] [You sent Peter's sword with Techo to Kemal, remember?] She did recover your bed-roll, your sling and shot, and the knife. And the weapons and armor and shield. But except for a few coins at the bottom of the saddlebag, the money is gone. Bixenta does not say much until the morning sun rises over the eastern peaks. Then she stands and faces you. "If I lose," she says, "I want to buried there." She points with her sword to a rock leaning against the nearest hillside. Now that you look at it, it seems to have been deliberately placed; it doesn't quite match the surrounding cliff face. "With my husband." She walks outside the stone circle, and turns to face you, with her long sword at the ready. <><><><><> [Agnes] She looks at the stone in the hillside nearest, and then turns to look at the other hill. "I think it would be appropriate then, if you buriied me over there." She points at the equivalent spot to her husband's grave on the hill on the other side of the stone circle. She takes up her sword and knife, and walks out of the circle to join Bixenta in combat. <><><><><> [GM] Bixenta stands ready to meet you. As soon as you come within range, she launches herself at you, taking advantage of the longer reach of her sword. She's fast, but you catch her blade against yours, and cut under her guard, slashing her across the chest. Your sword tears through her breasts, and she goes staggering back, stunned. Pressing the advantage, you rush at her, intending to put her down before she can recover, and slash at her belly. She makes a desperate attempt to block, but her sword goes flying from her nerveless fingers when your blade collides with it, and your swing is so powerful that it keeps going. You rip open her belly, and blood flies everywhere, even flying as far as the standing stones behind you. Bixenta sways, while intestines begin uncoiling and falling out of her. She sinks to her knees, and can only gape soundlessly while you bring your sword down a third time, so seized by the moment you don't have time to think about it....until you see her head fly off her shoulders. That fast. It's over. You feel almost in a state of shock yourself. You are still holding your sword, ready to parry, to strike, to keep fighting....but your opponent's headless body is now toppling forward, spilling blood at your feet. You hear a sizzling sound behind you, and then your hair begins to rise, lifted by an unfelt wind, while Bixenta's body begins glowing, and your body tingles in anticipation.... <><><><><> [Agnes] She stares at the headless corpse as it starts to topple. She is aghast. "Oh no," she whispers. "I hadn't meant to kill you." The adrenaline still coursed around her body, she was still tensed up for the fight that was over... and then there was something else ... and her body started to anticipate the quickening, welcoming it despite her conscious efforts. And then the quickening hit her fully. <><><><><> [GM] Lightning flares all around you, and rivets your feet to the ground. It flows through your sword and keeps it attached to your hand, despite your inability to control your fingers. Burning you from the inside out, and giving you the greatest pleasure of your life.....like twice before. Bixenta's essence swirls in the maelstrom, her memories and her grief...and her rage. **May you lose your husband as I lost mine!** she curses you. Your skirt whips against your legs in the wind kicked up by the Basque woman's passing. You can feel the love she felt for her husband, but it was a selfish kind of love, that became a vengeful obsession after he died....her hate for Kemal became greater than any love she ever felt for Unai. A warning for you perhaps....because underneath the bitterness and reclusiveness, you can sense that Bixenta was not a bad woman....you are pretty sure she will have kept her word about warning the bandits off of you....IF she spoke the truth about their being under her control in the first place. If you had never mentioned Kemal ibn-Hakim to her, the two of you probably could have been friends. The last of her Quickening drains into you, leaving you stunned and spent, and sated. Your fingers finally go slack, and your sword drops to the ground. You fall to your knees, and only with a supreme effort of will, avoid falling face-first onto Bixenta's corpse. <><><><><> [Agnes] She forces herself to avoid the bloody body, and then allows herself to fall to the side, rolling to face away from it. She watches the world go by, the clouds making their way across the sky, the wind blowing the grass on the hill. Eventually she feels strong enough to stand, and does so. She forces herself to look at Bixenta's body again. "I'm sorry, Bixenta, I didn't mean to do that. But maybe it is for the best. You have been released from your vengeful obsession." She walks over to her horses and calms them, before going over to Anai's grave. She assesses the size and weight of the stone and how it might best be moved, before going back to get Bixenta's sword. She pries it under the edge, and using a rock as a fulcrum, eases it up a little, and props it up with another rock. She stops to view her success, and then gathers what she thinks will be sufficient rocks for her to work the whole stone upwards stone at a time. She knows it will take a while, but it is what she agreed to do. Before starting in earnest, she does a circuit of the circle, viewing the slope below to see if anyone has been attracted by the quickening. <><><><><> [GM] Nothing human is moving, within your range of vision. The flash of lightning from the Quickening may have been visible from the next ridge over, but it would not have been visible or audible from Bixenta's cottage, or the bandits' lair which is presumably farther on. Unless they followed her, and are lying in wait, you should be all alone up here. It takes a while to move the stone, but Bixenta was apparently able to do it, so you should be able to also. And eventually you do, though you bend her sword in the process. Eventually you see a small hole in the earth, obviously dug by hand, just large enough to contain the enshrouded form within. There are a few other articles in there also...you see some metal items, a sword and possible a pot or a helmet or something. No doubt they might prove interesting, if you were inclined to root around Unai's remains, but you feel a cold chill just looking at them. Peter came back as a ghost....what would prevent an even older immortal from rising, to face his wife's slayer only yards from the killing ground? It is still late morning now....you find yourself looking nervously at the sun and wondering how far from this place you can be by sundown. <><><><><> [Agnes] The thought of ghosts scares her off from even spending more time than necessary in getting the stone high enough to get the body inside. She forces herself to pick up Bixenta's head by the hair ... and wretches almost immediately. Once she recovers, she holds the head at arm's length off to one side, and studiously keeps it out of her field of view. As carefully, but as quickly as she can, she puts it in the hole, and turns back to fetch the body. The headless corpse, she drags behind her up to the hole, and then with only a pause or three to regain her composure, she tumbles it in behind the corpse. The slow reverse process of lowering the stone again allows her mind to touch on ghosts and wild mountain creatures, like giants and trolls, that might have been attracted by the quickening. By the time the stone is down, she is really quite jumpy. She returns to her horses, and pulls on her chainmail, before collecting and sheathing her own sword and stashing Bixenta's bent one. With the touch of Bixenta still clear in her mind, and still feeling regret over her actions in the fight, and fear from what might be trying to go after her here, she leads the animals back towards Bixenta's Cottage. She will spend the night there she decides, tidying up, seeing if there is anything worth taking, and anything she ought to take with her. She will miss the money, but somehow, staying and exacting vengeance on the brigands no longer appeals. She would rather leave Bixenta in peace. She resolves to set off the next morning to head for Pamplona. <><><><><> [GM] You make it back to Bixenta's cottage without incident. Amongst all the jars and pots and dried herbs, there is probably a great deal that would be of value, at least to an herbalist....but you have no way of knowing what's good for what. You sleep restlessly, fearing at any time you might be woken up by Bixenta's vengeful ghost, but the only thing that disturbs your sleep is the replaying of of her dying curse. In the morning, the mountains are enshrouded in a light mist, which will probably burn off by noon, but it does increase the danger of setting off down the pass you had been following...both from terrain hazards and possible ambushers. <><><><><> [Agnes] She baulks a bit at the mist, and occupies herself cleaning her clothes and mending the holes. Then she makes herself a sling, and collects some stones. Finally, she prepares herself some food, and with the sun high in the sky, sets off for Pamplona.