Heck yes. You touch, you end up on the floor.
;3

Except for me ofcourse.


...and you yourself. xD

Well of course us.
xD
Otherwise this would be a moot point.
Maybeh.

-smiles-
My SHORT Character Profile

Username: Silenia
Character Name: Devon
Age: 26
Appearance: Short blond hair, slightly tanned, brown eyes. He's of normal height, about 5 feet, 9 inches.

Is this enough?

Have to log off for now, sorry.

GRAWR. xD
Yeah, it's fine.

Name: Atir (Uh-teer)
Age: Eighteen
Appearance: Shoulder length brown hair, sort of cut on the choppy side. She has pale skin, brownish red eyes, with pouty lips and a mole right above them. She's around five foot two.

Devon looked at the sun which had just risen above the horizon. It was time to go. Five days it had been, since the King had ordered them - he and his fellow knights - to go to the borders of the Kingdom. Every week there were new reports of attacks against small villages at the Kingdom's side of the border - attacks most likely ordered by the Lord Kayam the Second, King of one of the neighbouring kingdoms.
Every week more villagers died, more earth was soaked in the blood of innocents. Every week more crows feasted on the corpses of fellow citizens, residents of the Kingdom of Asraem.
It was war. A bloody war, declared by Lord Kayam. A war in which many innocents would fall, slaughtered by enemies and many of his proud, fierce men would die.

He turned around, his back towards the sun, and walked towards his men, in their temporary camp they had quickly set up yesterday evening after a day of traveling - towards the men he would lead towards the battle and, eventually, their death.
Sun had risen and so it was time to leave. It was their duty to protect the villagers, citizens of the proud Kingdom, risen out of the ashes of the fallen Seventh Empire three centuries ago. It was their duty to help the helpless, the defenceless. It was their duty, as knights of the Kingdom of Asraem.

He walked towards the now cold fireplace in which yesterday evening and during the previous night fire had burnt. His men sat around it, preparing themselves for the upcoming day, a day of travelling. Each of his men wore their armour and swords, and a determined but grim look was to be seen upon their faces. He was not the only one to realize it was possible more of them would die than live after this war.

He stood before them, saw their faces. Many of them were young, before their twenthieth year, even. He had trained some of them. Others were older. Two of them he had grown up with, as they were from the same village. They had shared their dreams, had together trained, together fought their first battle - and now he lead them towards what would possibly be their death.
"Today we will continue to march towards to borders of the Kingdom, on orders of the great King of Asraem himself. We will travel until dusk, sundown. It should be possible to reach the village of Ayram before tomorrow, in which case we will set up our temporary camp next to it, so that tomorrow we can prepare our final camp, in which we will stay until the battle itself!"
As one they rose from the ground they had shared. "Yes, sir!"
He looked at his men. "Has everyone done their duties?"
Again they all yelled, as one. "Yes, sir!"
"Then we will now pack up our camp. Armin, are the pack-horses prepared and fed?"
"Yes, sir, they are, sir!"

((Is this okay?))

Light filtered in through cracks in wooden doors, through hinges and windows, and through many other places of the small village of Aige. Life, though, did not. The village was mostly quiet now, as the sun had only just risen anyway, but was especially quiet for more than that one reason. Day by day, little by little, people of that village were dying. The war was straining through to everyone in King Asraem's lands, taking sons, husbands and siblings away to what was ultimately their deathbed. And being the proud people they were, the people of Aige weren't about to deny the king soldiers. After all, they had civic duty to the king and him alone..

A young looking woman peered the the fogged glass window of her bedroom, looking down at the few people brave enough to be wandering the streets at this early hour. She herself hadn't been outside in what seemed like years - though it was only days, the time felt longer. And her ears as well as all others were plagued by the screeching of crows, feasting on bodies that were being pulled from the depths of all corners and homes of the village; the kingdom was turning into a tomb for the dead.

Forcing herself to look away, the girl sighed, folding up her gown from the previous night and placing it on her bed. She held the saddest of looks in her eyes.. she had good reason to be sad. Days ago, her brother had been one of the countless numbers of slaughtered people. What was worse, the girl had seen and watched him be tortured and killed. 'But a small price to pay for the freedom of your people,' a knight had told her, just before galloping off toward wherever he needed to go or be. Yes, a small price for the people, but an unbearable price for her.

There was an abrupt knock on her door, and she jumped slightly, but moved to open it anyway. She looked from where a normal man's head would be, higher onto the figure; he was a very tall man, and also her other brother. "We need to open up now, Atir," he said softly to the small girl. "More of the king's knights will be coming in today, and they need lodging.." Just like every other day they would come into the village.

Devon walked towards the horses. They didn't have many, only a couple of pack-horses, five horses for scouts, so that every while the scouts could roam the land among them to watch out for anything suspicious, and his own, personal horse, Storm. As he was the leader, he usually rode a horse while the other men marched. He watched some of the men walking between the tents that were now being broken down by other men and the horses, as to pack them.
He nodded, and walked towards his own horse. A fiery stallion, trained for the fight so that he would not panic during battle. A dark brown with black manes, from a line of warhorses.
He checked his horse, to see if it had been fed, if it was not wounded and noticed Storm was in a perfect condition.

Half an hour later the temporary camp had been taken down and packed up, and his men were marching, northwest-bound, towards the village they should reach this late afternoon and the border between them and the Kingdom of Lord Kayam.

With the sun shining upon his back, he saw the shadows of him and his horse fall on the dried out soil. Earth, almost completely infertile due to the lack of moisture. No matter in which direction he looked, all he saw was yellow-brownish ground, completely dried out. Only in the far distance he saw difference. In the far east, a huge forest, of which he could only see the first trees, so far away they seemed smaller than a particulary small pebble. In the far north he could make out the tops of the mountains, shredded in mist.

He halted his horse and turned around, to look at his troups, his men. They had fallen behind, although not much - not due to lack of speed from their side but because he had accidentally sped up, causing a distance between him and his men. Luckily he had noticed before he had distanced himself too far from his troups. If they were attacked, he had to be near.
He waited until they had caught up, then turned around again and resumed travelling, this time watching his speed.

The sun had risen farther and almost reached its highest point, and Devon decided to halt for a short while. As he gave the order to pause to his second-in-command and some of the messagers, they passed on the message and in only a few moments all of his troups had come to a halt.
Devon turned towards his men, still on his horse, and watched them halt for a moment, taking some food and water, as they all knew he would resume marching soon. He looked towards his second-in-command, Armon.
"Armon, are there any problems?"
His second-in-command looked at him and hesitated. Devon noticed.
"Armon, what problems are there?"
Armon looked towards his leader, Devon, and replied.
"Nothing big, sir. It's just that one of our scouts has reported seeing some suspicious movement northwards from here, but it was in the far distance and they were not certain of what they had seen, sir."
Devon nodded and looked thoughtfully. "Armon, search that scout and send him to me. I need to know if anything problematic is going on. Do you understand?"
He nodded. "Yes, sir."

Atir was the girls name, and she nodded to her older sibling before closing the door back to dress into something more appropriate. Atir had dark, mousy colored hair, though, it was a decent shade, and it set contrast to her skin nicely. Since her skin was slightly pale, her hair made her look even paler, her dark eyes helping that along thoroughly. She looked around her room, finding something that resembled a ribbon of some sort to tie her hair up with; after all, house work with her hair down was a bit annoying. Moving to a corner of her room, Atir sighed, moving in front of a mirror to look at herself.. She looked more pale than usual, maybe because she was cold.. She hoped that was the reason, at least, considering amongst all of the death, a plague was coming across her village.

After taking the time to place her hair into a sloppy, yet elegant bun, Atir moved from her room swiftly, and to a closet a door down from her room. It was the coat closet that they places the coats, robes and miscellaneous other cover items of customers in. Out she pulled a silk roe that looked rather expensive - a prized possession-, and then gently she slipped into it with ease, making sure to tie it extra tightly this morning. There were many things that she ad her brother had to do before they could open up the inn for the day. They had to clean everything, scrub the bathrooms, clean out the bedrooms, just in case, and then the sheets and blankets from everything had to be washed, just like the towels and dishes. Atir did all of the washing, so she had her work cut out for her certainly. Her older brother, Debele, usually did everything that required him to be in the kitchen. He had always been the cook as well.. The younger, now deceased brother, had often times cleaned the bathrooms. Now, Atir and Debele had double shifts that rotated to every other day, as to who would clean the bathrooms. Today was Debele's turn, and Atir was thankful for that one.

"Dammit, Atir!" Atir sighed. It seemed that Debele was upset about something, and most likely blaming it on her.. how wonderful.. "Yes?" She asked, her voice soft and petite as she made her way down the long and creaky staircase. "This, this right here.. do you see?!" Atir had recently let a stray dog sleep in the inn at nights, and apparently he had gotten into the garbage bin.. and it was everywhere... right in Debele's nice and mostly clean to begin with kitchen. "I will clean it up later, hmm?" Atir said with a sigh, moving on to complete her other duties. This was going to be a long day.

The scout approached Devon, a bit careful. He was young, perhaps seventeen, and fairly small.
"Armon told me you thought you had seen something, scout?"
The boy - for he hardly was a man - nodded.
"Yes sir."
Devon looked at him.
"Could you describe me what you saw, or thought you saw?"
The boy nodded immediately.
"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

The scout started about how he had seen some movement in the distance, which had not been one of the Kingdom's patrols - and not another group of knights like Devon's, for they had not a single banier of the Kingdom with them. It was too big a group to be just some civillians - which had led to the careful conclusion they might be hostile troups, send by Lord Kayam.
Devon swore. This was something they could not use right now.
"When did you see them, scout? Where? In which direction did they travel?"
The scout hesitated.
"About an hour ago, I think. Northwards from where we were then. They traveled west, perhaps slightly southwest."
Again Devon swore, furious.
"And why, WHY for the devil's sake did you not notify me of what you saw?"
The boy trembled slightly.
"I... I told Sir Armon, sir."
Immediately Devon turned his head to Armon, who swallowed visibly.
"ARMON! Why in the name of Queen Yae and King Asraem did you not warn me when this boy came to you with his concerns! And you, boy!"
He turned his head again. "You, boy, bring me Larx IMMEDIATELY - and tell him to bring his maps with him. NOW!"
The boy shook, fear visible on his face. "Yes sir!" Immediately he left, ran towards then men to search Larx.
Devon stared at Armon with a furious look upon his face. "ARMON! Explain this to me. NOW!"
Armon shook, shivering under Devon's furious gaze. Devon rarely got angry, but if he did... You most often would not survive the day.
"I... I thought I should best not disturb you, sir." He stuttered. "I did... I didn't th...think it was... was important."
Devon exploded. "NOT important? You thought this was not important? For all we know, they can very well have been troups of Lord Kayam. If that's what they were, we have had hostile troups near for at least an HOUR without me knowing. NOT IMPORTANT? If I had been notified immediately, I could have decided what to do - we would have known where they were back then. Now we have to see if we can find out where the hell they are and what the HELL they are planning!" Again Devon swore.

That was when the scout approached, together with Larx. "Larx!"
Immediately the elder man replied. "Yes, sir?"
"Show me the maps. It's possible this boy," he gestured towards the scout, "saw hostile troups over an hour ago, and neither he or Armon saw it fit to notify me."
Larx blanched, while he unrolled his maps. "Yes, sir."
Devon looked at the maps. "Larx, you are the map expert. Could you show me where we are?"
The elder man nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked around for a moment, then pointed at a certain part of the biggest map. Devon turned his head to the scout. "These troups, boy... did they have horses?"
The scout thought for a moment, hesitated, then nodded.
"I think so, sir."

Devon swore while he looked at the map again. With a pencil he marked a point, then drew a circle around it. "That's about where they were seen. The circle is the radius of where they can be. They went west to south-west, you said?"
Again the boy nodded. "Yes, sir."
Devon quickly drew two lines. "Then this is about where they can be. With their direction, where do you think they're heading, Larx?"
The elder man looked at the map for a while, then after having thought for a moment. "I would assume either the village of Aige or the border, sir."
Devon nodded. "That's what I assumed as well. Armon, if we survive this you WILL be punished for this... mistake. Warn the men, we will be marching again in five minutes, and we will be marching fast. Direction changes towards the village!"

((Sorry for the enormous post. It was even longer at first, to be honest))

(Dear Jesus CHRIST.)

Hours had passed since the morning had come, and Atir was scrubbing the blankets in the scalding hot water against the washboard. She'd removed her robe, making sure that it was folded neatly upon one of the tables a good ways away from her. That way, nothing could happen to the precious and beautiful garment. Debele could be heard in the kitchen, cursing away as he continued to clean the floors where the garbage had been. After all, the family Inn of Aige had been known for its cleanliness and remarkable services before any of the children were born, and Debele wanted to carry on that legacy for his parents, now his younger brother. Atir on the other hand, merely saw the inn as a job, a duty to the people. The fair was decent enough, and she got her own room upstairs, close to the rooms of the patrons, also the bathrooms. Debele had to deal with the drunkards, and Atir the women who wandered in for a room for the night. Soldiers had been visiting while injured more and more since the war had broken out, and Atir got to tend to them as well.. The only negatives were the long hours spent scrubbing and cleaning in the wee hours of the morning, thus staying up late was not an option for either of them. But Debele rarely went to sleep at a decent time of night. There were too many women that 'needed his attention' for the night... They must have needed a lot of attention too, because Atir could hear them moaning all the way up the stairs.

Gasping suddenly, Atir ripped her hand from the water and frowned. She had cut herself on the wash board, and bit her lips sadly at the sight of all of the blood that she was seeing. "Debele," she said, moving toward the kitchen immediately. "We have bandages?" She often spoke sentences in questions like this. More often than not, it worked out quite well.
"Huh?"
Debele looked up and sighed to see the bloody-handed Atir waiting for his assistance. "Of course we do," he said, escorting her into one of the downstairs bathrooms. He pulled out some cloth, immediately wrapping the girl's petite hand in the white, now stained red cloth. "I'll finish up the wash," he told her simply. "Go ahead and open up and sweep, I'll be done in no time. " Atir, like the sweet girl she was obeyed and unlocked the large doors to the front of the inn, opened them, and then blushed dramatically. There were a hoard of men in black standing before her, each one of their eyes falling on her practically underwear-clad body. "Excuse me," she said softly. The one in the front, decidedly the leader grinned at her, and with a heavy accent that she could not recognize, spoke, "I like this inn already.." All of the brute men behind him snickered, and then they all piled into the large inn rather quickly. "Do you serve meals here?" The lead asked Atir. Atir stuttered out the words, "Yes sir," as a response, then quickly pulled on her robe to hide her petite figure.

Hearing the commotion, Debele popped his head up from behind the bar, then grinned. "Hello there, gentlemen," he said. "I hear you are looking for a meal? I cook the best bacon around." All of the men cheered loudly, and the youngish leader of the group chuckled, before taking a seat at the bar, far too close to Atir to be comfortable. These were not the king's soldiers.

Within a few minutes they had all resumed travel, at a far higher speed than before, because this was urgent. It was clear to everyone that he was angry. Not just angry, furious in fact.
Armon feared for his life for, if he would survive the possible fight with the possibly hostile troups, he knew he wasn't sure he would live because of the mistake he made. He knew what Devon could do if he was really angry, and it was not something he looked forwards to. In a way he hoped that if he had to die, it would be in the fight and not by Devon's hand.

Larx was thinking about what he had heard Devon say. Why had Armon been so stupid? He knew the man well, for he had been one of those to train him - and he certainly wasn't dumb. So why had he made such a stupid mistake, such an error in judgement? He wondered, just as he wondered if the scout had indeed spotted hostile troups.

Devon was angry. Furious. If he had been warned immediately, he could have sent scouts to spy at them from a distance, to look what the troups were planning, how many men they had, if they were hostile.
Now he had nothing but an unclear, insecure report from a new scout who hadn't even been sure of what he had seen.

It was a couple of hours later, two or three perhaps, that Devon and his troups neared the village. He stopped just far enough away from it that they would not immediately be spotted, and called for two of the scouts, Michael and Jason. They should walk towards the village and take a look around to see if there were hostile troups around, and if so, how many.
They should dress normally, so that they wouldn't attract too many attention, and as soon as they had the information they needed return to the temporary camp - unless they felt it was not safe to do so for one reason or another, or if they felt it would look suspicious.

Atir watched the hoards of men scarf down the food as her brother cooked it with tremendous speed. All of the men except the leader at, and his eyes were glued to Atir, before he finally got to his feet and moved toward her. "Hey there," he said softly, leaning against the end of the bar. Atir nodded softly. "So, what is your name?" He asked, moving closer.
Atir was growing more and more uneasy with the distance that was disappearing between the two of them, plus her face was turning pinker.
"Atir," she said.
"Atir.. huh."

The man had jet black hair, dark eyes, scars all along his face and neck, and what she could see of his arms. He also had a few moles here and there, just like Atir. He was decidedly a handsome man, somewhere around in his twenties, but either way, Atir wasn't interested in someone as gruff and demented as he looked.

"So, " she said softly. "What is your name?"

The man laughed just a little bit. When he smiled, his face seemed to light up more than it usually did.
"The name is uhhh.. Just call me Rum." Rum? What the hell kind of a name was that? "Nice to meet you," Atir said.

His scouts nodded and followed his orders. Devon turned around.
"We will have to wait here until I know more of what is happening. Make sure the horses are cared for. People on watch so we won't be surprised by a possible attack.
If anyone sees anything suspicious, TELL me! If the scouts have returned, send them to me!"
His men nodded. "Yes, sir!"
"And you, Armon. Since we have to wait, I will have a convrsation with you. NOW!"
Armon blanched but nodded. "Yes sir."

They distanced themselves from the temporary camp, and Devon spoke to Armon about exactly how stupid he had been. He told him that if there were indeed hostile troups in the village or around, they could very well have a problem now.
He kept speaking, threatening Armon with horrible fates, as he still was furious, and only stopped when he was notified the scouts had returned.

"What have you seen, Jason, Michael?"
Both looked at eachother and Jason spoke.
"Appearentally there is an illness in the village. Many people have died during the past weeks. They have been attacked a couple of times as well, and a few villagers died. There was a large number of horses near the inn, which lead me to believe there are indeed strangers in town. I entered the inn. There were many knights there, and I am sure they were not from the Kingdom. Due to their accent, I believe they are indeed Lord Kayam's troups."
Devon swore. "So many armed men with horses inside a village. We have to go to there, even though it can be our death easily. It's our duty as the King's knights. But had I known about them earlier, we could've laid a trap for them. Armon, if we somehow both survive this, you will wish you were dead!"
He turned around. "Everyone towards the village, NOW!"
He mounted his horse and rode towards the village which harboured many of Kayam's men.

As 'Rum' continued to try to make some sort of conversation with Atir, Debele cooked and watched the men from the corner of his eye. He didn't seem to like the men all that much, especially the one who was practically on top of his sister. "Atir," he called abruptly. "Get in here and help me with the eggs." Atir got thankful. She rushed into the kitchen, smiling politely to Rum and his men before sighing with relief. "Thank you," she whispered, stirring the eggs around in the bowl with a thick and wooden spoon. Debele looked over to Rum now, who was laughing loudly at something one of the men had said before taking a long swig of water. "I don't like him," Debele growled. After all, Atir was his baby sister, and though he himself was running around, sleeping with every attractive woman he saw, he didn't want any man to touch her.

"Hey uhhh.. Atir!" Rum called. "C'mere." Grinning, Rum didn't even bother with the boundaries between the bar area and the kitchen. "I wanna ask you something. " Debele glared at Rum, and Rum grabbed Atir, and Atir followed him up the stairs, and into one of the rooms. He closed the door, pushing Atir toward the bed, pressing her into it quite harshly. In all reality, Atir was frozen with fear, eyes wide open as he small body was pinned below the obviously more heavy one. "R-Rum.." She cried, her small hands pushing on his chest. He merely grunted as he pulled at her robe a surprisingly gently. It was obvious what he wanted, however unfortunate that was. "Ru-Rum!" "WHAT?!" He snarled, pulling away, an angry look on his face. Atir was.. crying? "The hell?" He asked her, pressing his lips to her neck.

The men downstairs all knew what Rum was going for. After all, he was the leader of their little troop, and they knew him better than virtually anything else in the free world. He was gettin' some. Hell yeah.

They had all entered the village, and warned all villagers they saw on the streets - not that there were many - to get inside for it would be likely that there would be a bad fight between the Kingdom's troups and those of Lord Kayam.

Devon dismounted his horse and looked at his men. "We know they are in the inn. You," he pointed towards about five men, "search if there's an entrance at the back. You," he pointed at another group of his men, about ten this time, "guard this entrance and warn me if anyone leaves the tavern."

The men immediately followed his orders, and about two minutes later he heard there was indeed a back entrance.
Devon looked towards his men and decided to split his troups. "There are about thirty of them, and we have forty-two men right now. Eight of you, guard the front entrance. All others, follow me and we will enter through the back."

They walked around the pub and entered it, when Devon noticed a staircase leading upstairs. He pointed towards a few of his men. "You and you, follow me so we can see if there is anyone upstairs. All others, capture the enemy or kill them. Make sure they do not escape, try to keep their leader alive for questioning - if you can see who it is. Try to take as many of them as possible by surprise, for the odds are about even."

He walked upstairs together with two of his men when he heard a noise coming from a room, a woman crying. He swore softly and with his sword ready, he opened the door to look what was going on.

Due to the caliber of men downstairs with Debele, it was near impossible to hear the bit of commotion that Atir and Rum were making. Mainly, the drowned out noise was Atir crying and screaming, having her mouth covered by the large and thick skinned man. Sure, he was handsome at the very least, but Atir was not quite ready to give herself to a complete stranger, mush less anyone at all.

Debele, though, had a feeling that something was up, and was more than tempted to find out just what. But every time he began toward the stairs, the men got louder, and demanded more food and drink loudly.

"Please!" Atir cried as Rum beginning to undress himself. Hey, as long as his lower half was uncovered, he found himself ready to go. Unfortunately, he was quite undressed, plus Atir was kicking and squealing like a hog. "ATIR," he snarled, and she froze. "Please," she begged him softly. "I don't want to do this.." After a moment of pondering, Rum chuckled. "Awww, sweetheart, it'll hurt at first, sure, but I can promise you.. things get much better.." He forced her onto her stomach before he began kissing her ear, then undressing her from the back. Too bad he was interrupted! "What the hell?!" He snarled, thinking it was one of his men. To Rum's surprise, it was not one of his troop, but of the enemy instead.. Atir gasped, her eyes moving onto the loyal soldiers to the king, a large sign of relief on her face.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Devon was furious. He had already been extremely angry because of the judgement error of his own second-in-command and seeing one of Lord Kayam's men trying to force a girl into something she clearly did not want... Seeing him trying to rape a woman... He got furious.

While the man still was surprised by their sudden entrance - and unarmed - Devon hit him with his sword, creating a wound that was not lethal but that certainly would incapacitate the man.

He turned his head towards the other two men he had brought with him.
"Tie this idiot down and make sure he doesn't escape or die because of loss of blood - I want to question him later - if we survive this, that is."
The look upon his face said enough and it was clear to everyone that the questioning wouldn't be nice.

"Yes, sir." They followed his orders immediately. Once the man was tied down, he looked at his men again.
"Please go downstairs and help the others there, I will have to ask her," he gestured towards the female he didn't know, "a couple of questions." Devon wondered how his men were doing downstairs, and wished he had known of the hostile troups sooner.

Rum had been getting to his feet when he was attacked, and let out a horrible sounding yell when he was. He fell to the floor, clutching his bare chest as the soldiers of whomever this intruder to his fun began to tie him down. Sadly enough, Rum felt him falling in and out of consciousness, and sooner of later he found himself gone completely.. Damn this man!

The men downstairs were now in more of an uproar. Not only had they been denied food and heard their leader scream, but they were being attacked! All of Devon's men had popped in at the perfect moment, since most of the troop from Lord Kayam were eating and unaware of any threats at their lives. Half of them were taken out with ease from being unprepared alone, the other half injured and fighting now with the weapons that they managed to grab from themselves effectually.

Debele was escorted out of the building by Armon, who seemed to be trying his best at everything he was doing on this mini excursion. Debele, though, was only concerned with his sister. For all he knew, Atir was still in that room alone with Rum.. and he knew that that wasn't a safe thing.