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It was a cool, dreary October day the young sorceress and her slave made their way through the gathering of bodies, listening to the wenches behind their booths belt out uproarious laughter or calls for ale. Peasents, aristocracy, and middle class merchants of all sorts made their ways through the crowds, everynow and then groups of young ladies decorated in pretty gowns and jewels giggling over a few trinkets at a booth or at the words of a knight. Some clansmen wandered around, weaving through the throng of people, women and men alike clad in tight pants and ruffling shirts, swords twined with brown thread and boot-daggers wrapped as well with this peace cord.
Each person seemed lost in their own midst of laughter and joy, everyonce in the a while avoiding the town drunkard, or the normal buzz of talking be interrupted by the call to sale of a slave. Even a bit more rare than that, screams would sound out as men in bones with wild hair ran through the crowd, grabbing women or men and carrying them off, everyone laughing at the jokes the natives loved to play, knowing well soon they would be released again. At least hopefully.
The young sorceress was growing bored, she realized, finding no suitable slaves or people to capture. What was she going to do? What was the point of her being here?
"One as beautiful a lady as you should not look so troubled," came a deep voice of a man from behind. Both the sorceress and the slave turned to look, staring at the tall clans member who stood behind them, bearing the mark of May Mc. Neleons. The sorceress quirked a brow, looking to the slave to see if he was adressing the young woman, but it seemed that the man was adressing her!
"What does this mean, good lord. Hurry it up, my days are short and my nights are long, and I have no time in the hours of the sun to listen to your riddles," she snapped, leaning on her staff, the black velvet cloak, lined with blue velvet interior flowing out around her like angels wings.
"Oh fair Lady Demon...what is it then you search for? Be it some aid? A protector? Mayhap there is a way I could hasten the day so the night would be ours, my beautiful Demon," he spoke, his smooth barotone filled with the romantic notes of a love song. The sorceress through back her head, standing up even straighter than the whale boned corset made her gave an imperious look to the man, boots planted frimly on the ground, fingers around the staff, palm resting ont he hilt of her dagger. The black velvet dress flowed down around her body, sans were the corset cinched it tight, the black high lighted by her eyes, lined with white sparkling dust and black charcoal lines, thick lashes, and burgundy wine lips--the color only acheived after one has drinken strong vintages and ate the juiciest of grapes. Her skin was pale, leaving the spiked, then line of chainmale travelling over her forehead to stand out, the strands of the string of it disappearing into her short hair, standing out wildly, sans the bangs which framed her face darkness frames the moon. His heart beat madly in his chest, and he stepped forward to her.
"Fair Lady Demon...? I am here in search of a slave, not a poet! Now, leave me be so that I may continue my quest," she snapped, turning her back on the black haired man moving to walk away before he spoke again.
"No poet am I...ne....instead, I will sale myself to you as a slave! Anything to be in your mere presence," he implored, jogging to catch up with them, tight black pants and black ruffling shirt was filled with a red poof at the top where it opened up, the rougish costume giving his tanned skin and black eyes a look of the devil. The sorceress found herself yearning for him, but denied herself the exquisite pleasures of his features.
"You have money then?" she demanded. He paused, then moved fast to catch up with her again.
"What implied that?" he demanded, accent faltering. She paused, turning to look him straight in the eyes.
"You want to be with me," she said. "In order to do that, you must buy me something."
"A slave?"
"Nay...a horse."
He paused, studying her closely with a look of baffelment before speaking next.
"What in the name of all that is placed under our holey savior may you want one of those beasts for?" he cried, surprised, hand waving through the air. Well, the sorceress thought, this couldn't be a good start.
"What I want the horse for is you. How can you be the knight and chivalrous bastard you're trying to be without a horse?" she wondered, a bit sarcastic. Finally, he sighed, giving in to the ladies demands. If it mean he could stay with her...
The day passed swiftly then, the sun setting down and turning to night, the moon dotting the sky and stars scattering the crystalline blanket of the heavens. The two stood together, the slave speaking with another they had bought, having a rather joyous tim all together. The Clanmen and the Sorceress stood, hand in hand, gazing up to the moon.
"My time draws near...the end of the festivle has come, my dear knight...I fear must be off," spoke the sorceress softly.
"Will you return tomorrow?" he wondered, and the sorceress turned, blue eyes bright and shining under the moonlight.
"My Knight...the journeys I must face are long and arduous, and I know not where they will take me...but I can try. Hopefully, I will be back by then, but I must go to the city over before the dawn comes. If I do arrive here, t will be late. Duties await me, my love," she spoke quietly. He reached up, hands resting on her arms.
"Marry me? Tomorrow, if you return, seek me out and marry me," he pleaded, eyes wide with his youth and beauty. The sorceress smiled.
"Of course," she whispered quietly.
Lights approached the front gates of the fair, and she knew the carraige had come to pick them up. Turning to her slave, she beckoned her with a hand.
"Come, wench!" she snapped harshly, and the slave ran over quickly. With a fast, quick kiss, the sorceress and the clansman parted, and the sorcress and slave left out of the gates...
Amanda looked over to Caroline with a small smirk on her face, Caroline looking highly amused as the walked down the gravel parking lot outside of the gates of the Renaissance Festival.
"Engaged now, are we?" demanded the girl, dressed in the slaves uniform as they climbed inside of the taxi.
"I guess," answered Amanda, laughing, fishing a peice of paper out of one of the pouches of her costume.
"I got Mike's phone number...you got the other guys?"
"The one I was talking to? Oh yah," answered Caroline, a large grin on her face. "So...you guys actually gonna get hooked up?" Caroline wondered, only to be answered with Amanda rolled down the window and threw the number out.
"That Renfair is kind of like Vegas. What happens at Renfair, stays in Renfair."
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