• Graded • Missed Carriage [Faith, Pad]

[Faith Augustin]

His hands on her, his proximity to her, just him being there, being who he was, calmed her. "I'm not hurt, I promise you. Bruised, I suppose, where they held me down or threw me about." She gestured to the blood, silver eyes focused entirely on amber ones. "He was pining me down, it hurt and I was scared, so I gave him my sorrow. He cut his own throat. Then, Stig killed that one who was about to kill me, so his blood went over me, too." The terror that she had felt had left her now, in one way, but in quite another, it was exacerbated. So, facts were straightforward, easy and safe. They were where she reverted, every time. "The other one threw his body on me to pin me down. Hence the blood." It was where she always hid, in fact and recitation of the same. But equally, with him she never stayed there long. "Padraig?" There weren't words, for all that she had a thousand questions, so Faith simply held on to him in that moment and bit back a moan as another birth pain hit her.

The guard arrived and Faith looked around in first surprise and then, Padraig would know, horror at the thought of all these people. It sounded like there were dozens out there, she thought. Her hand in Padraig's tightened and she lowered her head and wished most sincerely that it would all just stop. But it didn't, the pain kept coming and more quickly each time. "Oh, please, he saved me. He did. Please, be gentle with him. Don't let him be harmed." That, she said as the guard took Stig, although she couldn't focus on more than that. She wasn't ready but Padraig was just calm, "Why are there wolves?" She wanted to go home and pretend this wasn't happening, not here and not now and not like this. Or to the Order. She could go to the Order. Looking at Padraig as he asked her what he should do, she leaned against him and then breathed in more sharply. "Stay with me, Padraig, I don't want the guard delivering our baby." If their options were the guard or him, Faith had no hesitation about who she wanted. Uselessly, she wiped at her face, trying to clean herself up from the blood over her and her clothes.

However, after another space of time, in which she focused on breathing through the pain, now using all her discipline and endurance to not cry out and shame herself in front of the people who were outside, a doctor came and Faith knew him. She'd seen him, worked with him. That was fine, he was fine. "I'm sorry, I don't want to get blood on you. I should have brought spare clothes," she wondered why she hadn't thought of that, to be quite frank. "Would one of the guard get me just.. I don't know, a dress. I'm going to scare children looking like this." She wasn't sensible or entirely lucid as she thought about just walking out and wandering over to the Order to give birth. "I can't do this here, I can't." It was obvious, surely?

But as the labour progressed at this speed, it became obvious even to her, that doing this here, was exactly what she was doing. There was no other choice. As things moved apace, Faith cared less about the people outside, less about anything other than what she was doing. With the doctor there to take care of the birth itself, Faith asked Padraig to do what he had done in Rharne. Sitting behind her, his back against the wall of the carriage and her cradled between his legs, his knees raised. Supporting her like that meant that, if she faltered, he held her up.

Leaning back against him, exhaustion was a very real problem for her. She was tired, which was fine because the adrenaline of the birth itself over rode that, but the fight, the use of her Immortal granted abilities, they all drained her and she had to pull on reserves of energy which she was not sure she had. Yet, birth was an inevitable, unstoppable force and she rested against him between each contraction. How was this all happening like this, so fast and in this place? It didn't seem possible but it was happening. She tried not to cry out, not to make a fuss but it was pain like nothing she had ever experienced before. The intensity of it, of the attempted kidnapping and fight before it and now? She got to the point of telling the doctor, very plainly. "I can't. I can't. Stop it. Just stop it, I can't," any time he told her to push, to move, to breathe. Yet, if Padraig should say the same thing to her, give the same instruction, whatever it was, she did and could at the very least do her best. In a carriage, in the middle of the street. Covered in blood and surrounded by people and in chaos, she blocked out everything and everyone except him and her.

Because those were the only two people she could deal with right now, so she listened to what he said and she got on with what she needed to.

[Padraig]

[img]/gallery/image ... e_id=12000[/img]

Padraig wasn't at all the bloodthirsty kind, and had never taken any pleasure from thoughts of warfare and conquest, or ever imagined he'd get anything but disgust out of seeing an expression of terror on his adversary's face. These were unusual, exceptional circumstances. And though he didn't relish any more than he'd ever thought he might, there was a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that Crank knew he was finally done for. The driver was after all the last remaining obstacle on the top of the carriage, between him and Faith.

Though their blurred faces rolled by in wave of humanity spied from his peripheral vision, he was hardly aware of them either. Or of the bloody, gloopy mess that was made of Crank when he fell. Though Padraig's boot must had slipped on a bit of the gore when he climbed down and scrambled into the carriage. The amount of blood inside was shocking but apparently none of it Faith's. She must have fought like a cat tied up in a sack with a pack of rats. If she'd told him any later that it wasn't her blood, Stig would have paid the price for the lapse.

She told him what had happened to the others and it only confirmed that she'd put up a fight like no other. Still, when Stig was pulled out of the carriage, Padraig didn't give the man's fate a second thought. It was only her and their child that he cared about. "Don't worry about the wolves, and I'm not going anywhere without you," he promised. "Don't worry about the blood or your clothes," and as a man who identified himself as a doctor climbed in, he added. "The baby says it's here and now. That's what it is then." Smiling encouragingly at her in an attempt to conceal his own worry, he stayed beside her and held her hand tight.

"You can," he told her when she asked him to get behind and support her. "We can, and we will." Of course that time in Rharne had been a different one, but neither of them had realized it at the time. So back against the inside wall of carriage, feet on the seat and knees up, he cradled Faith against his chest, whispering encouraging words in her ear as the doctor, and she did their work.

[Maltruism]

Those who had originally given up on following the event down the street had by now noticed the gathering crowd. Many of the shops had noted how would-be customers had abandoned their doorways to join in as well. Most of them flipped their signs to "Closed" and hurried, with what employees they had, to see what all the fuss was about.

Stig himself had tipped off those around him, with his lamentation of guilt over his part in having kidnapped a "pregnant woman"; and speculations over identities soon established the certainty, however technically unconfirmed, that it was Faith, the noted healer, chef, and all-around paragon of the town, that was in labor within the coach. The news soon spread to where criers were calling up emptying streets to bear witness to the "event of the arc."

People brought supplies, eager to help; blankets, towels, cushions, pain medicines, tonics to speed the physical aspects of the process, and anything else they could think of. The guards and doctor, as well as the assistants he now had among the crowd, sifted through the goods that by now would have filled the coach three times, for only the necessities. Truly, the biggest priority were those things to give comfort to Faith herself, as the birth itself seemed to proceeding with no serious complications.

Animal handlers were dealing with the nervous horses, giving them apples and carrots, not just to appease them with treats, but help mask the smell of blood and death as the remains of Crank were stripped from various locations on the harnesses and undercarriage. They were professionals, and the task was not beyond them, despite the press of the crowd.

But as time passed, many women began to develop a cringe to their expressions in acknowledgement of how long it was taking, no doubt remembering their own ordeals. This, of course, turned the mood of the crowd to a slowly escalating degree of anxiety, one which the guards were soon put to their limits to keep under control.

But as if in response to the moment where a few might have flung open the door in mad determination for an update, the air was torn by a long loud wail, that of a newborn babe. It could only be heard for half a tick, as it was instantly drowned in a roar of celebration that triggered bells in the distance. Dancing and hugging replaced pushing and shoving for a few bits, until a hush once again took hold. One of the guards appeared in the door of the carriage, waving for silence to make a second announcement.

It was necessary, as the subtle change to the infant's cry would not have been noticed. It was now the cry of two infants. "TWINS!" the guard shouted. It was fortunate that he only needed a single syllable, for any further shout would have been woefully inadequate to register in the joyous ears of the gathered throng. It took several bits before this guard could find enough of a relative lull to add that it was "One boy and one girl." if anything, the crowd grew even louder.

Vendors competed with each other over who would be giving out the greatest complimentary drinks and prizes. Some shouted for an immediate declaration of a new holiday. For all practical purposes, it was a new holiday, as half the shops in town had closed as a direct result. Many who did not even know who this "Faith" was, were celebrating just for the incredible circumstances of this birth, and names were bandied about to give credit to the remarkable event.

It was doubtful that "Cary", or "Triumph", or "Wolfe", or "Cob", short for "cobblestones", or even "Vickie", short for "Victory", were likely to be the names chosen by the new parents, but nothing could stem the tide of jubilation in the streets of Scalvoris.

There was one face, however, off in the distance but well aware of the events, whose face did not show celebration. Alexander turned away, his face dark with frustration and determination to see his nemesis destroyed.

[Faith Augustin]

If, even in the throes of birth, Faith had been even vaguely aware of what was going on outside, she would have been equally mortified, embarrassed and utterly determined to not make a sound in case anyone heard. Had she heard the criers she would have tried to crawl into a small space where no one could see her, but she knew none of it. In that strange little bubble of existence, the halted carriage where death and sorrow and fear had ruled for a period of time which would change a number of lives, Faith knew only that she had to focus entirely on what she was doing; it wasn't that she wanted to, nor that she didn't wish the same, it was simply and completely an inevitability that all she could do was be in the here and the now and completely at the mercy of her body.

There was no doubting how grateful she was for the small touches, the pillow, the blanket and the cushion. She refused the pain medication, telling Padraig (who seemed to be the only person she could speak to) that she didn't want to take it, didn't want to dull any pain because for the first time in her life? "It's good pain, it's our baby coming to the world. Why would I want to not feel that?"

Cradled safely against him, Faith listened to what he whispered to her. His words were encouragement, they were love and they were concern. It was more than that for her ~ he anchored her as much as he watched her fly free and she needed both of those things. When she could, in between the contractions, she rested against him, nestling into him and taking strength from him. As the birth pains hit, she matched her breathing to his and held on to him. When the doctor told her that she could push now, she held on to Padraig's hand and nodded. That meant that their baby would be here, soon. All these trials and seasons of excitement and expectation, of planning and worrying, they all came down to this moment.

If he wanted to move, to witness the actual event, Faith was more than content with that. He had done what she needed him to do, he had wrapped her in love and security and reminded her that, when all was done, the two of them was all each other needed.

When their son was actually born, as he took his first cry in this world of wonders and fears, Faith sobbed once, relief overwhelming her. "It's a boy," the doctor said, with a smile to them both. A quick glance over to make sure that he was well, all fingers and toes accounted for and a quick wrap in a blanket, the doctor handed him to Padraig, not Faith. "Rest a few trill, the next one is on it's way," he said, like she knew for a moment what he was talking about. Silver eyes turned to Padraig and then the doctor again. "What?" Faith said.

Looking between the two of them, the doctor considered carefully that perhaps they hadn't known. He hadn't examined her during the pregnancy and it happened sometimes, twins weren't obvious depending on how they were laying. "You're having twins. Rest, just a moment." Faith's face was white as a sheet with twin spot of bright colour, one on each cheek from the exertion. Her hair was matted to her head with sweat and she looked utterly confused. She turned to Padraig, holding their son in his arms and she said, most perplexed. "But we've only got one crib." It was a perfectly logical argument, of course, resorting to facts. "Padraig?" In that one word, she sounded terrified, delighted and every emotion in between. Yet a stronger emotion won out. "Let me.. let me see him? Oh, oh, look at him."

The doctor smiled.

She had, they had limited time and then the whole process happened again; quicker this time. His sister was born just a few bits later and as Faith rested, her breathing slowly returning to normal as she held the newborn girl the doctor handed her, she looked up at Padraig with tears in her eyes and delight on her face. Exhausted, emotional, terrified, shocked delight, but delight it certainly was. There were a hundred things she wanted to say, a thousand thank yous, declarations of love or reassurances of her welfare, questions about his or concerns for how they were going to do this. Each one was more complicated than the last. Instead, she stuck to the basics. "They're perfect. I could just look at them all trial. I love you, and them and I am suddenly really hungry." Raising an eyebrow at him, she asked. "Did you bring snacks?"

[Padraig]

[img]/gallery/image ... e_id=12000[/img]

If only Alexander's activities over the course of the last arc had attracted even a fraction of the same awareness and attention from both the ordinary citizens and guards, as did his wife giving birth in a carriage, Padraig thought. And not in a flattering way, where it concerned those who were meant to defend, protect, and keep order in and around Scalvoris. Under other circumstances, those where Faith wasn't in the throes of labor, he'd have stepped out of the carriage and asked one of the guards to explain it. He might later. Much later. But for now there was only him and Faith, and their child coming into the world.

The doctor wasn't to blame for any of it though, and while he'd have barred the door of the carriage to anyone else at that moment, the man was more than welcome to come in. If she didn't want anything to ease the pain, he wouldn't argue, though Padraig couldn't begin to conceive what it felt like and frankly didn't want to. He could only hold her in his arms, whisper encouraging words in her ear and let her know he was there. He was just fine where he was, content to handle his end while letting the doctor handle the other. He wouldn't have been of any use, had he passed out cold once witnessing what actually happened down there during childbirth.

A boy? Padraig smiled, kissing Faith on the cheek when their son came into the world and cried out. He was smiling still when the doctor handed the babe over, not really comprehending why he hadn't handed the child to Faith. "Wait...What?" he said, looking a bit panicked in spite of efforts to the contrary. After all, was this really a surprise? Faith was a twin, and they'd spoken about the possibility. The cheering of the crowd outdoors was something he heard, but didn't. Like white noise, there but not there as Faith brought their daughter into the world. Two then. They had two and were a family of four. All the worries and panic forgotten, and Padraig smiled as the second babe was placed into Faith's arms.

"We'll build another," he said, referring to the crib back home, as he lowered their new son so she could see him. "Ten fingers, ten toes, all there and perfect," he reassured her, and he swelled with pride, viewing them both side by side. He grinned though when she said she was hungry, and shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have anything with me." As for their current predicament though, he considered the crowd outside and turned to the doctor. "Can you speak to the guard, arrange a way for us to get home with the minimum of fuss? Privacy as much as can be, without having to fight our way through that crowd," he explained.

[Maltruism]

When the doctor opened the door of the carriage, it might have been the first occasion of Padraig truly noticing the size of the crowd. many had no idea who was involved, but were simply taken in by the spectacle and the tale of a kidnapping-turned-rescue-turned-childbirth. It was not something that happened every trial.

What little visibility the narrow carriage door allowed was nonetheless jaw dropping in scope. It had all the earmarks of a scheduled assembly by some diplomat to give a political speech. Had Pad not known, he would not have guessed this was nothing more than a simple intersection. It looked now like a celebration of a military victory, with spontaneously-formed circles of dancing, singing and reenactments, as well as hastily-erected kiosks of food and goods.

Guards were plainly only beginning to achieve uniform positions of watch over the sudden throng. But smiles were on their faces as well, the one the doctor spoke to being no exception. He leaned in to grin at the new parents, "Not up for a party, eh? Well, you're probably the only two that aren't. But seein' as you're the guests of honor, I suppose we can find it in our hearts to accommodate your wishes, sir...Ma'am"

He tipped his helm and disappeared back out into the crowd and a moment later, the carriage lurched slowly to begin a slow turn. There was a momentary groan of dismay from the crowd, but it did not take long for them to realize that their impromptu holiday was not going to be called off. Individual voices shouting cheers of "Good Luck" and "Good Health" and such things rebounded off the coach as it passed well wishers that were even now stepping back to give the carriage a pathway out.

Some expressed concern that there was something wrong, but the newly appointed wagon driver called back that they all just needed some rest and privacy. A series of understanding "Awwww"s verified the good nature of the gathering. The last thing Pad would hear clearly were some suggestions for a name to be applied to a new Holiday. He may have thought it was just the celebratory attitude talking. And he was probably right.

But you never know...

!	Message from: Maltruism
	Okay folks, I am calling it there. Pad and Faith and their two babies (and wolf pups) enjoy a nice, calm carriage ride home to recover from their ordeal. Let's let them have a nice peaceful rest before Alexander raises his ugly head again.

[Maltruism]

Come and get your Loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)

FAITH:

XP Rewards: +20

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

• Bellinos Blessing: Laments Judge: Can cause suicide.
• Bellinos Blessing: Laments Judge: You give, and lose, sorrow.
• Endurance: Birth.
• Endurance: Birth pains during combat.
• Endurance: Dealing with the weight of another on you.
• Endurance: Prolonged nausea.
• Strength: Lifting a dead weight.
• Unarmed Combat: Flurry of attacks.
• Unarmed Combat: Reacting to being grabbed.
• Zuuda Blessing: Beck and Call: Calls someone to you - but close by.
• Zuuda Blessing: Beck and Call: The person must wear the servants mark.
• Zuuda Blessing: Famula's Companion: A spirit in my blood which allows it to be shaped.

Loot:

Well, it seems sort of demeaning to refer to babies as "loot", but...

Loss:

Nothing but many future nights of sleep

Injuries:

Only a new mother can truly describe the pain and exhaustion.
But "injuries"? I guess they are not defined that way.

Fame: +15

Is there any doubt that your fame would spike as a result?
Gratz on 1000!

___________________________________________________________

PADRAIG:

XP Rewards: +20

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

• Blades: Slash attack on the roof of a moving carriage.
• Celarion Blessing: Shield of Light: Good for hitting people in the face.
• Celarion Blessing: Weapon of Light: Versatile and useful in sunlight.
• Discipline: Being a source of support during birth.
• Discipline: When the baby says it's time, it's time.
• Endurance: Giving chase to a carriage.
• Endurance: Sleepless night with a pregnant wife.
• Strength: Physically throwing human beings off moving carriages.
• Strength: Putting your weight behind a move.
• Strength: Supporting a woman in labour.
• Unarmed Combat: Grab and fling.
• Unarmed Combat: Kick to the groin.
• Unarmed Combat: Left hook.

Loot:

The same as Faith.

Loss:

The same as Faith

Injuries:

Definitely NOT the same as Faith

Fame: +25

Faith may have had the babies, but you were the one that was more prominently seen fighting villains on a runaway coach, "Indiana Jones" style.

Comments:

This has been one of the most enjoyable threads I have ever been involved in.
Fun, fights, blessings, villains, backstories, babies, wolf pups, partying, the promise of a sequel...What more could anyone want?

[Maltruism]

Sorry, Padraig. My bad, when I checked to see where you were in your Celarion Blessing, I didn't even look at the "Favored" stuff, since you had already reached "Adored". Because of this, I gave no real credence to your use of the Brilliant Weapons. I figured it to just be the groundwork for getting it in the future. But looking again, I see that, at Adored, it is the "Moderate" version. The significance of that term should have registered in my brain, but...alas...did not, and I did not realize you already had the "Minor" version. So I am correcting this oversight, and granting you, on behalf of Qylios, the Moderate version.

Name	Ability Description
Brilliant Weapons (Moderate)	The Adored is able to create weapons out of solid light. The Adored can generate one melee weapon and one shield, or one ranged weapon at a time. To produce a weapon, the Adored must be in an area of decent illumination (ie. Outside during sunrise or sunset, near a campfire or other light source during the night, or in a dimly lit room).