09-23-2008, 03:27 PM
Grace was worried but she could do nothing. She went to the both house to shower, got a new dress and waited for Hunter to return in their bed room. she want4edto make sure he knew she was waiting for him, her perfect love.
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As Hunter made his way to the barbarian war camp, he found himself surrounded by the mongrels. They held swords and spears and were warriors born and raised. They denied his archers entry and told him he could no enter with his archers. (If he does enter with out archers) The Barbarians led him to a huge bear skin tent. Inside are two women, the battle field commander of the Britannians, and the Queen herself. She wore a skull on her head as a crown and looked up from her maps. "Ah, war leader Hunter." She said, staring daggers at him. "What a pleasure to finally meet you." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she pulled up her seat but offered Hunter none. Her own War leader remained silent, though her glare told volumes. "Why are you really here Hunter." The Queen asked seriously. "I know that the saxons would not try to treaty after a single raid, you me be despicable monsters but you not cowards. So why? Tell me before it is your skull I wear on my head!" Hunter had to find himself at least slightly impressed with the young queen. She had a natural beauty that, in some ways, was greater then even graces. Her movements were smooth and tactically flawless, he gaze wise beyond her years. She had a scar across her face that showed her battle prowess but barely subtracted from her beast like beauty. While Grace was like a gorgeous rose that smelled sweet and was soft to the touch, The Queen was like a beautiful wild cat, her fur sleek as her skill, her movements not unlike Hunters own. She had toned figure like a wild cat, her muscles there, honed to battle perfection, but not bulging beasts that subtracted from her grace, like a wild animal that could not be caged or kept down....or perhaps not until now.
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As Hunter made his way to the barbarian war camp, he found himself surrounded by the mongrels. They held swords and spears and were warriors born and raised. They denied his archers entry and told him he could no enter with his archers. (If he does enter with out archers) The Barbarians led him to a huge bear skin tent. Inside are two women, the battle field commander of the Britannians, and the Queen herself. She wore a skull on her head as a crown and looked up from her maps. "Ah, war leader Hunter." She said, staring daggers at him. "What a pleasure to finally meet you." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she pulled up her seat but offered Hunter none. Her own War leader remained silent, though her glare told volumes. "Why are you really here Hunter." The Queen asked seriously. "I know that the saxons would not try to treaty after a single raid, you me be despicable monsters but you not cowards. So why? Tell me before it is your skull I wear on my head!" Hunter had to find himself at least slightly impressed with the young queen. She had a natural beauty that, in some ways, was greater then even graces. Her movements were smooth and tactically flawless, he gaze wise beyond her years. She had a scar across her face that showed her battle prowess but barely subtracted from her beast like beauty. While Grace was like a gorgeous rose that smelled sweet and was soft to the touch, The Queen was like a beautiful wild cat, her fur sleek as her skill, her movements not unlike Hunters own. She had toned figure like a wild cat, her muscles there, honed to battle perfection, but not bulging beasts that subtracted from her grace, like a wild animal that could not be caged or kept down....or perhaps not until now.
