Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Scrambles » Sun Jan 05, 2014 9:00 pm

-Isador-

The unlikely arrival of Deacon was not enough to break Isador’s stare upon Gregor. Most likely the roof being torn off the building could not accomplish this. He was aware of Deacon in both his movements to his side and what he said, as was he aware of the other Templars who remained at the bar. The fact that Gregor could laugh after knowing what he was a part of forced Isador to clench his fists in order to remain clear headed. He could almost see red at the borders of his vision, the sound of his heartbeat drowning out all other noise for a brief moment before his senses returned to normal.

Isador unlocked his gaze from Gregor for a moment to look to Valmyria. He noticed the bottle before her. “That’s a good year….you should hold on to it.” That was the only warning Isador gave to the Warden Commander before grabbing hold of their table with his free hand and flipping it. “You’ve had your laugh; you’ve had your drink.” Isador stepped forward towards Gregor. “Now get up, and have your sentence.” By his stance, it was clear that Strauss was expecting, hoping really, that this would become a fight. He had promised Deacon he wouldn’t kill Gregor. But by the Maker he was going to hurt him. Badly.
Last edited by Scrambles on Wed Jan 08, 2014 5:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Mon Jan 06, 2014 11:47 pm

Deacon Reinhardt - Voice of Reason

Isador's angered actions didn't surprise Deacon. The man was a powder keg surrounded by fire, so to speak. The fact that he had remained so calm so far was impressive, but clearly the Black Axe's patience was wearing thin. The Templars at the bar seemed eager to jump Isador, but Deacon's demeanor coupled with him unsheathing his blade slightly with his thumb reminded the men that their opponent would not fight alone. The Warden-Commander's nonchalant manner bothered him, though. In front of her was the man who led the assault on Redcliffe, killing so many just to get to her, and yet it seemed that she couldn't care less.

Deacon shifted his attention to Isador, who was clearly waiting for Gregor to make a move, give him an excuse to do some damage. "Strauss... This is not the place." He moved to the Black Axe's side, speaking in his ear. "You're already in enough trouble with Lothering's guards. Don't make this worse than it already is. Without your armor, you're at a disadvantage." Deacon moved towards Gregor to face him, his eyes both calm and aggressive. "Well, Gregor... Since you are so calm about all this, would you care to take a walk?" Deacon's stance made it all too clear what the consequence would be if the man tried anything, but he gave him a chance to come in peacefully. It was one last favor to the man. "The Arl would like a word with you."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Blood Lord » Mon Jan 20, 2014 1:21 am

Valmyria Windstrider and Kinght-Captain Gregor.

Val frowned as her table of food was flipped away from her. She glared at Isador, then to Deacon and then finally to the Knight-Captain.

He was a curiosity to her. Something about him was off, she could feel it as his smile only widened. It wasn't quite like the Templars she'd seen that were addicted to lyrium. No. This was something else, but something just as bad. There was a particular madness in him, she could see that in the way he interacted with the others, in his posture, and tone. But worse of all was the glimmer she caught in his eyes when he looked at her. For those brief moments, she could see past his mask into him.

Then she noticed it when he got up and stood where the table use to be.

He was confident.

That concerned her. In the face of what is going to be a very painful experience and most likely a very long and agonizing death, he was smiling. He was confident. He had a plan.

And the two ex-Templars walked straight into his hands.

She glanced around looking for a weapon to use, knowing that the only one she could use was the one around her wrist. Val felt the bracelet warm in what felt like giddy joy at the idea of being used again.

"The Arl wants to see little old me?" asked the Knight-Captain with a laugh as he spread his arms open. "That's terrific news, I've been wanting to meet him as well. But if I go now, Deacon then we'll be sure to miss the dance, and gentlemen, you'll sure to hate missing this dance."

Gregor motioned to his stationed Templars and the the three pulled out crossbows fixed with wicked looking bolts. However that's not where the everyone's eyes rested at. A fourth templar brought in a bloodied up young boy wearing a Templar recruit uniform with a knife held firmly against his throat. The Warden Commander noticed the boy had a cut lip and a black eye already starting to form. His uniform was torn and clear to her that his discovery was not a pleasant one.

"Isador, I'm fairly sure you know this lad," said Gregor as he crossed the room and tousled the boy's hair. "However Deacon and the Warden-Commander don't. This is Daniels a young Templar recruit with a very promising career and life ahead of him, unlike me. He's a very gited lad from what I've heard from his instructors; resourceful, noble... curious. And he wants to live, don't you Daniels."

The boy nodded carefully against the blade.

"Of course you do," replied Gregor as he knelt next to Daniels. He lashed out with his hand and gripped the boy's hair and jerked it back. The blade moved a little in the action and drew some blood.

"We all do," he hissed at the boy. "Survival after all is the first instinct. But you see one of those men, Isador or Deacon, is going to kill you do you know how?"

Daniels shook his head.

"Well, let me tell you," he said with a short laugh as he stood up and stroked Daniel's hair. "They're noble. If they move to get me or the archers, you die. Even if they were to somehow reach you, those bolts in the crossbows will reach them before they can react. See, their morals, their code... it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as they think themselves to be. I'll show you, when the chips are down, these... these civilized people? Well... you'll see. Would you like to know how to live?"

The boy nodded, causing the dagger to slip again.

"Careful there, trooper. Would be a shame to have you loose your head over this. But it's simple," he looked at the former Templars. "They turn around and walk away. After which my men and I will leave and you get to live."

The Knight-Captain gave a mock salute to the former Templars as he walked to the backdoor. "Until next time, Strauss, Deacon. Had a pleasant drink with you Valmyria, perhaps the next date will be better."



*I know, Dwarf thing. Go to the OCC, I need a pow-wow or whatever its called to get a few things straight before I can keep making posts.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Scrambles » Mon Jan 20, 2014 9:43 pm

-A New Hunt-


The situation had gone to shit. Isador regretted bringing Daniels in to this; the lad wasn't ready for real combat yet. Rage burned inside Isador, he wanted to tear Gregor apart. He wanted to sink his axe in to every single one of these men. But something stayed his movement, abated his impulsive rage. The reason eluded Strauss at first. Gregor had the upper hand, had a hostage, so where did this feeling of confidence come from? Then it clicked. This wasn't the first time Isador had been in such a situation. At least a dozen mages he had been ordered to return to the Chantry took hostages or attempted some underhanded tactic to escape. They always worked. For a time at least; Isador always found them in the end, cowering in fear or desperately making some sort of bargain.

The sudden realization made the Black Axe laugh, a hysterical laugh from a madman. His reaction confused the crossbowmen visibly; no one ever burst in to laughter like that during a hostage situation. “Very well then Gregor, by all means run.” Isador leaned his weapon against Gregors empty chair and crossed his arms. “Run as fast as you can, find a horse even and ride. It does not matter where you go gentlemen; the Black Axe always finds his target.” He looked to the crossbowmen, his sinister smile, brimming with confidence unnerved them. “Let the lad go and neither of us will stop you, you have the word of a man with morals.”

Deacon looked to Isador with a look of shock at his comrade’s words but Isador never took his eyes from the fugitives, or from Daniels. “I have tracked down the best runners from the tower in decades, I have watched them flee with more than one hostage in tow, and I have either dragged them back to the tower or taken their lives myself. So go, cowards, flee to spare yourselves what is to come, live out your short lives looking over your shoulders.” Isador looked to Daniels with a look of reassurance; the young recruit was clearly in shock from the whole situation. “Keep looking, for one day you will to see me, with weapon in hand.”
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Mon Jan 20, 2014 11:39 pm

Deacon Reinhardt - Friend Then, Nemesis Now

Deacon couldn't believe what had just happened. He had just offered the chance for Gregor to come in peacefully, explain his actions and maybe even keep his neck if he cooperated with the Arl. The man had thrown the offer in his face by having his men point crossbows at Deacon's back and hold an innocent boy hostage. This was not the man he had once knew, and Deacon's mind was trapped in an endless void trying to figure out why.

Little by little, the bracelet on his arm started to shine brighter, but before it could be noticed by anyone under his cloaked arm, Isador broke the silence of the room with a truly unexpected bout of laughter. The Black Axe spoke confidently of letting Gregor go for now for the sake of the boy. Saying that when the time came, he would find him and finish this. As much as Isador's words caught Deacon off-guard, he was right. They were in no position to save the boy and apprehend Gregor.

"Two men with morals..." Deacon calmed himself, feeling the bracelet dim under his guantlet. "We will let you go for now, Gregor... But so help me, if this boy comes to harm after we leave, I will personally see to it that you die without a shred of mercy from me or anyone else."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Ro Wong » Wed Jan 22, 2014 10:20 am

{Redcliffe} ~A Demon‘s Fate~

Gaabriel smirked a bit wide at the current subject. “Well, I’m not cleaning it up for anyone else. I’m not that charitable.” He chuckled a bit as he leaned over against the tallest side of the broken throne.

His eyes stared at the wall across from him, reading the name over and over again. He continued to smirk, his face showing no sign that his mind was anywhere but with the Teryn. His thoughts did sway, though. He was listening, waiting to hear what offer his old ‘friend’ was inevitably coming toward. Thinking, he went back to his older days, recalling the last day he had seen his dear daughter alive.

Ekora had been very fond of her loving father. Trusting and obedient. She was perfect in her daddy’s eyes. Smart and strong, and destined to become a true beauty in her maturity. But, that destiny was broken. She had died - murdered before her father’s eyes while still but an innocent child. The image of her wide eyes and her last words still haunted the great mage. Her blood warm for mere seconds as it had crossed his face, the long blade sticking through her stomach. The other men gathered to witness the cruel act stood still in awe, letting Gabriel’s daughter be killed without a word of refusal. His eyes had been pure green before then. To this day, he still carried bits of her blood around his irises to keep her with him always.

Oh, my dear, I do miss you so… Tis unfortunate, what happened. Gabriel glanced over to the Teryn as he was beginning to speak. But they knew you were my only weakness… I had no choice but to kill you.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Seirui » Wed Jan 22, 2014 4:53 pm

-Valas Delrune-
Everyone calm down..


Like any great thief in the night or killer lurking in the dark there was always a way to be part of something without ever participating in it until the time was right. Though Valas did not hide in the sense that he shrouded himself fully, he instead chose to simply not be seen by releasing the living shadows from his body to travel along the floor that slowly but surely had made its way to Gregor and his goons long before crossbows had been drawn and demands, and hostages, were being made. Valas hadn't enjoyed watching the young boy be beaten but it was a necessary evil. If the boy lived from this he would learn better how to handle himself.

Blood Lord wrote:
Gregor motioned to his stationed Templars and the the three pulled out crossbows fixed with wicked looking bolts. However that's not where the everyone's eyes rested at. A fourth templar brought in a bloodied up young boy wearing a Templar recruit uniform with a knife held firmly against his throat. The Warden Commander noticed the boy had a cut lip and a black eye already starting to form. His uniform was torn and clear to her that his discovery was not a pleasant one.

"Isador, I'm fairly sure you know this lad," said Gregor as he crossed the room and tousled the boy's hair. "However Deacon and the Warden-Commander don't. This is Daniels a young Templar recruit with a very promising career and life ahead of him, unlike me. He's a very gited lad from what I've heard from his instructors; resourceful, noble... curious. And he wants to live, don't you Daniels."

The boy nodded carefully against the blade.

"Of course you do," replied Gregor as he knelt next to Daniels. He lashed out with his hand and gripped the boy's hair and jerked it back. The blade moved a little in the action and drew some blood.

"We all do," he hissed at the boy. "Survival after all is the first instinct. But you see one of those men, Isador or Deacon, is going to kill you do you know how?"

Daniels shook his head.

"Well, let me tell you," he said with a short laugh as he stood up and stroked Daniel's hair. "They're noble. If they move to get me or the archers, you die. Even if they were to somehow reach you, those bolts in the crossbows will reach them before they can react. See, their morals, their code... it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as they think themselves to be. I'll show you, when the chips are down, these... these civilized people? Well... you'll see. Would you like to know how to live?"

The boy nodded, causing the dagger to slip again.

"Careful there, trooper. Would be a shame to have you loose your head over this. But it's simple," he looked at the former Templars. "They turn around and walk away. After which my men and I will leave and you get to live."

The Knight-Captain gave a mock salute to the former Templars as he walked to the backdoor. "Until next time, Strauss, Deacon. Had a pleasant drink with you Valmyria, perhaps the next date will be better."


Slowly the shadows crept in, the sheer adrenaline coursing through every bowman and even Gregor blocked out the sensation that something was wrong instead believing it was just the jitters of a life and death situation. How sorely they were wrong to mistrust instinct over thought. An instant was all it would take to kill the boy, so Valas hoped Gregor would be distracted with himself for a little.. bit... longer.

Scrambles wrote:
The sudden realization made the Black Axe laugh, a hysterical laugh from a madman. His reaction confused the crossbowmen visibly; no one ever burst in to laughter like that during a hostage situation. “Very well then Gregor, by all means run.” Isador leaned his weapon against Gregors empty chair and crossed his arms. “Run as fast as you can, find a horse even and ride. It does not matter where you go gentlemen; the Black Axe always finds his target.” He looked to the crossbowmen, his sinister smile, brimming with confidence unnerved them. “Let the lad go and neither of us will stop you, you have the word of a man with morals.”

Deacon looked to Isador with a look of shock at his comrade’s words but Isador never took his eyes from the fugitives, or from Daniels. “I have tracked down the best runners from the tower in decades, I have watched them flee with more than one hostage in tow, and I have either dragged them back to the tower or taken their lives myself. So go, cowards, flee to spare yourselves what is to come, live out your short lives looking over your shoulders.” Isador looked to Daniels with a look of reassurance; the young recruit was clearly in shock from the whole situation. “Keep looking, for one day you will to see me, with weapon in hand.”


Gregor was a smart man, though maybe not as smart as he could have been, when confronted with the challenge before him. Valas was loathe to believe in heroes or legends of men but to gaze upon the Black Axe now that he had walked his dark path it was clear that he basked in the light of something beyond evil, thought admitably not quite 'good'. But right and wrong were never clear distinctions anyways.
The blade against the young boys throat clattered to the floor with an echo that seemed to reverberate throughout the whole tavern. The mans hand had turned to a sickly grey that no doubt crept along his arms. After a brief moment of shock the crossbowmen attempted to fire but screamed instead. They too suffered the grey flesh, taking away control of their hands and legs. One by one they collapsed onto the floor screaming and flailing as the plague stole their hearts. Each one had flesh the color of old steel, with glazed eyes and rotten yellow teeth and nails.
Gregor fell upon his back not a moment later, the plague stopped at the knees and elbow.

As he fell back, Valas came forward from where he had been leaning against the wall a short distance away from the crossbowmen. "Tsk tsk." The shadowmancer whispered, his every step made Gregors heart stop and start but never truly ended his suffering. It wasn't until Valas had walked over the other victims, the shadow plague inside them seeping out in a dancing swirl of black smoke that flowed into the skull-faced man, that he spoke again. Standing directly overtop the sweating form of Gregor. Valas did not speak, he didn't have to, the threat was all to clear when the sound of someone lifting an axe echoed in the sudden quiet of the room. "Isador. Stay your axe.. but could I trouble you to take his right hand? I see no reason to let him wield a blade ever again.." The whisper carried over the dim effortlessly. Valas took a step back as Isador approached.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Zelosse » Wed Jan 22, 2014 8:28 pm

-Marcus Hammerstrike-


Draken30000 wrote:Vovin gripped the handle of the sturdy hammer that belonged to his father. He paused a moment, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Then he exhaled, raised the hammer, and brought it down, causing a metallic ring to echo out. It felt...natural. Different from when Marcus had first trained him to work metal. Again and again the hammer fell against the unfinished sword. Vovin seemed to lose himself in the work, all his senses that were not imperative to his task dulled. The Dragon Knight did not notice the orange wispy light that had begun to creep along his limbs. He was unconsciously slipping Beyond the Veil as he pounded the metal, and the energy of the dragon spirit worked its way past his fingers to flow along the shaping blade. This continued for a time, but suddenly Vovin stopped, hammer raised. He slowly lowered the instrument of creation and the orange aura around him faded away. He looked at Marcus. "I...don't know where to go from here."


Marcus watched cross-armed and showed no emotion as he watched Vovin bend his back to the task of leaving his own mark in the blade, meticulously hammering it until it had become thinner and yet stronger. Marcus had whispered the parts of a hardening spell used by even the lowliest of blacksmiths worthy of the title to make sure the weapons core would have the required sturdiness to handle what was to come.
"You've done well, Vovin. Rest and watch." Marcus took back his hammer and slipped on a thick pair of leather gloves, feeling the familiar flow of the forge coming over him as it always did, drowning out reality itself save the feel of the hammer and the needs of the steel he shaped. The cluster of steel closest to where the handle would be was thicker than the rest of the blade, far more excess that was needed for a straight edged blade, but that too was all part of it. Hammer in hand he began to pound the steel with blows that made the ground shake each time hammer struck steel, each blow edged more and more of the steel into a long if unruly second edge upon the back of the swords original edge. The second blade was thinner but it would serve its purpose later.
A pair of tongs lifted the blade into the fires but that wasn't the end of it. Marcus began to chant in an arcane language that seemed to warm the air around him further as he picked up the thick leather bag of desert crystals. Gently as he could, Marcus used the time the blade took heating up to crush the crystal into a fine powder, every so often he opened the bag and poured in the expensive diamond dust tied to his belt, and continued his crushing. After a time it was nothing but dust all around, Diamonds mixed with a worthless crystal material. Marcus poured the mixture into a vat and tossed in a large handful of the binding agent along with the arcane powder. After he sealed the lid, Marcus placed it gently in the forge.

Time seemed to speed up as Marcus worked methodically, heating up the blade, cooling it, hammering its shape further, and repeating over and over. What felt like days went by in this process as Marcus instructed Vovin to various tasks. Crushing more crystals, adding the mix, hammering the sword, and so on. Finally it was time for the finale. Marcus took the red hot blade and slipped it into a mold, the piece fit perfectly but it did not fill the outline as he sealed the two pieces together. Marcus gave a nod and took the stone vat and gently poured the blue liquid into the only open hole upon the mold. The last drop leaked out of the top of the hole perfectly. By now, even Marcus was sweating despite to continuous chant. Slowly he built to words in tempo, the mold had started out a stone grey but was quickly heating up to a fiery red. Marcus picked up the mold before it reached that point and placed it in the flames without tongues, his leather gloves and apron caught fire but he barely seemed to notice, he stepped back and the flames extinguished. The final word of his binding spell had barely left his lips when the stone mold exploded in a shower of stones that rained down on Vovin and Marcus. Again the old man barely noticed.
Inside the forge was a bright crystal sword, the core all but invisible beneath its length of its wicked edge. It took almost 4 hours to fit the crystal to the custom handle he unraveled with delicate and loving care, every part slid in without fuss and with no trouble, a perfect fit. The final test of his blade took hold as he once more took up the language of mages. This time it was something dwarven in language, extremely powerful even if the words made no sense to outsiders, and forced the blade to glow. The final test of the blade was to have it absorb a final layer of enchanted diamond dust, the power of the blades enchanting was dependant upon how much of the dust it absorbed. With a flourish he tossed the valuable dust into the air and raised the blade above his head, all but shouting the last word of his spell.
A brialliant light blinded the two as the spell took hold. Finally the blade came into view, shining in the forge light like a beacon. Not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere.

Finally the blade was done. Marcus turned to his son with a wide smile, his face covered in ashes and his skin around his arms burned almost black, but still he smiled as he presented the blade. He had created a legend, capable of rending any armor, and magic, and sundering even the most powerful mages shields with ease. The blade itself when touched revealed its secrets. It absorbed hostile magic and used it to empower its own edge like a battery. "Name it, Vovin. It is yours now."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Wed Jan 22, 2014 8:48 pm

Deacon Reinhardt - Is It Truly Mercy?

"No." Isador halted his approach towards Gregor, not expecting the interruption. "I'll do it... Strauss, tend to the boy." Deacon moved forward as Isador got out of his way. The look on his face as he approached Gregor's cringing form was not one of enthusiasm, madness or even anger. It was one of sorrow. Kneeling down, he pulled out the dagger from the back of his belt while proceeding to reach out to what was once his old friend. Gregor's pain was excruciating, leaving him desperate to fight back against what was happening yet incapable of it in every way.

Slowly, Deacon grabbed the man's right armored glove and removed it, revealing the plagued flesh underneath. His hand was a pure gray, like steel but grotesque in nature. As he pressed the blade against Gregor's forearm, the man's screaming intensified. He didn't waste time, cutting through as if it was butter. He expected the bone to be a concern, but Valas' magic seemed to have prevented that. Deacon tore off some cloth from the table where Gregor and Valmyria had once sat, and wrapped it around the severed limb, an action that seemed irrelevant as there was no bleeding. As Gregor continued to scream, Deacon was unwilling to let his suffering continue, despite his crimes. With a solid blow to his face, Deacon knocked Gregor out cold to quiet him down, as well as hopefully making his pain end for the moment.

Deacon began to lift Gregor up to transport him, but the Templar's armor made it too difficult for him to do it alone. "Strauss... Can you carry him?" He looked to the Black Axe as he made his request, his face devoid of its usual warmth. "We need to take him to the Arl for questioning." His eyes moved to Valas, the one responsible for the deaths of Gregor's men. "I suppose I should thank you for helping us diffuse the situation. But... I need you to do something..." Deacon's eyes glanced over to Gregor for a moment, then back. "I would ask that you remove as much of that dark magic from his body as you can. We will need him as coherent as possible for questioning. Though his words were the truth, Deacon also wanted to stop the man's suffering. He was getting tired of seeing such sorrow around every corner.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Tenshi Nova » Thu Jan 23, 2014 9:06 pm

Blood Lord wrote:Teryn - "Old Friends"

The Teryn shrugged the remark away as he climbed into the carriage. "Guess that means you two have a lot to talk about. Kassar, Kel here is one of my most trusted advisers and has been helping me promote and manage various programs for the last few years."

The carriage suddenly got underway, taking the three and their armed escort towards Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine. It took only a few minutes for the carriage to pass through the gates of Denerim and make its way North. The Teryn had propped himself up and was busy reading a report, leaving the other two free to talk.

"So Kassar," began Kel. "Tell me, how did you end up in the service of the Teryn?"

Kassar reminisced the events as he answered, "The lord found me...uh..." Stealing.
"...at the market one day. One of his guards bumped into me..." Caught.
"I followed them to the Teryn..." Imprisoned.
"After finding the Teryn, I asked if I could serve under him." Begged.

Kassar shifted slightly, but was content with his rendition.

"Since then, I've been learning what I can."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Scrambles » Thu Jan 30, 2014 3:18 am

-Isador-


His axe was heavy, his body felt light as a feather. He knew Valas was watching but this sort of intervention? The Shadow King held many surprises, even to his newfound ally. It actually took effort for Isador to stop himself from grinning as he watched the rogue Templars writhe in agony upon the ground. In most circumstances he would most likely be laughing like a madman at such a twist of fate. It was the look on Deacon's face that kept the Black Axe stoic. The briefest of glances let Isador know how much the sight before him troubled his friend; and so he remained silent. His years across Thedas had jaded him, there was no doubt. Too many battles, too many dead, lifeless faces. No man could stay the same after seeing that much violence. It took a fresh look on things to truly see how much the world had gone to shit.

Isador agreed to Deacons request to check on the boy, after all, Daniels had taken his licks solely because of him. Daniels was beaten pretty badly, his face was pulp. Isador stepped over the corpse of the Templar recruits captor and kneeled before the lad to check his injuries. Daniels looked at Isador with the same shocked look he kept during the entire ordeal.

"You...You're Isador Strauss....The Black A-"

"Stop squirming boy, else I'll have to bother the Warden-Commander for healing." Isador proclaimed as he turned Daniels' head to inspect his injuries. "Nothing fatal, you'll live." He stated after checking the lads frame for broken bones.

"I've heard countless stories about you Ser, even Commander Vauss tells us of your exploits when we can get him to." Daniels continued to speak despite Isador's reluctance about his own subject.

"Im not a Ser anymore." Isador helped the boy up on to a stool at the bar. "And Im in no mood for storytelling."

"Of course Ser..I mean...Isador...But I-"

Daniels was cut short by Deacons request for help with Gregor.

"Remember what happened here, how you were defeated. How a hated enemy showed a dispicable man mercy. These are things you must never forget." Isador remarked before turning from the shellshocked recruit.

Strauss looked to the bartender, who was hovering close to the back door and requested a mug of ale and a cut of meat for Daniels to drink and place on his eye respectively. He then turned his attention to the now crippled Gregor and Deacon. Isador nodded to his friend and lifted the limp Gregor over his shoulder with one mighty heft. "You are a bigger man than I, Deacon, I would not have let him keep so much of his arm, let alone his life."

Isador placed a reassuring hand on Deacons shoulder, looked to Valas with a nod, then headed out the door towards the Keep. Gregors weight felt like nothing to the Black Axe. To him, the knowledge that he was bringing a man to justice made any burden feel lighter than air.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Blood Lord » Mon Feb 03, 2014 10:56 pm

Valmyria Windstrider - Peace out, Girl Scouts!

I am so done with this thought the Warden-Commander as she surveyed the wrecked Tavern. Between the "attack" by her pet darkspawn and the series of events here, she was starting to think the Deep Roads would be a safer, more relaxing place to be at. Val let out a disappointing sigh as she stood up and brushed her white robes off. She watched for a moment as the bar keep and a few of the hired hands began cleaning up before moving out to the door. Before she left though, the elf caught the leather pouch full of money she gave to the man sitting on the counter. She carefully adjusted her departure pattern and snatched the pouch as she walked out of the bar.

"Never should of come here," muttered the elf as she walked down the street, pulling her hood up as she went. "Never should have left without any proper weapons either."

The thing around her wrist flared briefly in an attempt to remind her that she still had it. Val rolled her eyes and mentally chewed the bracelet out. After feeling the presence sulk back to the depths of her mind, she focused on more pressing matters.

But first, her drink.

Val had take the bottle with her from the Tavern, uncorked it, and took a deep swig from the Quel'Elhen wine. The honey and berry flavored alcohol burned delightfully down her throat. Her "gift" from the darkspawn hunter was still neatly tucked away in her robes.

Now, to resupply

There were several stories nearby as she passed, most of them fitted to address the needs and the wants of the local populace - not wandering fighters and killers of nightmares. There were a few weapon and armor shops devoted to such types of clientele, but they held little interest for her as stepped in them and casually browsed through their wares. Val had weapons that suited her just fine, but she lost her arrows and was lucky to have her bow and her dagger returned to her. Both her swords laid neatly in their scabbards back at her room in the Keep. Armor was a different story with much of it being lost or damaged in the Fall of Redcliffe and none of the armors she had found suite her taste, let alone her elven figure.

Val paused at the counter in the store she was in and inspected a series of throwing knives. That damned darkspawn uses them, perhaps I should too.


A Dwarf's request - QUEST ACTIVATED: Teelo, Zasalim, and Connor
Orzammar - Diamond Quarter


Morrigan frowned at Conner's nudging with his hips and was about to rebuke the elf for the advance on her when an arrow flew past her head and bounced uselessly off the wall behind them.

The Guardian strode forward with a huff and spun her staff around. Blue light began to gather at its tips as she spun it faster and faster before slamming it into the ground. The resulting effect was a release of a build up of magic in the form of a slightly blue shock wave, knocking many nearby individuals to the ground. The ground beneath her her cracked slightly from the impact. She raised her staff again, the tip of it crackling with energ-

"ENOUGH!" roared a voice. Every head turned in it's direction to see the Dwarven King, Khadgar Aeducan step down from the steps that lead into the Royal Palace. His beard and hair were a fiery red, and protruded from the dwarf in a wild manner that only seemed to further the idea that his head was on fire. His royal garments were of the more relaxed sort than the heavy and bulky items the Dwarven Kings of old favored. this was also shown in the rather simple crown her kept as well. A large two-handed battle axe was strapped to his back, a memory of his days as a Dwarven General.

Every dwarven knee immediately sunk to the ground in reference to their King. He scanned the crowd with a look of approval before his eyes found their way to the Guardian, the elves, and the small and highly disturbing little forest child.

"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice strong and commanding. He looked up and down each of the foreigners before finally settling on Morrigan. "Come on then, speak up!"

"You council is sought, good king," said Morrigan, making it a point not to bow. "Yet, there are those among your house that seek to derail that."

"And so you, of all people show up at my door, barging in and kil-"

"None that would have died later, good king. You know me, and that I never come save for a good reason, tis it not so? These fine elves request an audience before you," replied Morrigan.

The king glared at the Witch of the Wilds before looking back at the elves. He threw up his arms in defeat and motioned for the party to follow him into the Royal Palace.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Sat Feb 08, 2014 12:22 am

Azreal Demian - Searching for Answers

Azreal felt the medicines do their work as the pain in his arm and leg subsided over time. In place of pain, a soothing effect took hold. It certainly had certain benefits as opposed to traditional healing magic. But while his body recovered, he felt something, though he was not sure what it was. Dark, corrupting almost. Then, almost immediately, the presence dissipated. Does this have something to do with that shadow mage I met on the Keep's wall? He didn't know what to make of it, but anything that could possibly tie into shadow magic felt like a cause for concern. He spent some time waiting for the feeling to return, hoping that this time he may be able to figure out where it was.

His focus was eventually broken by a single knock at the door, a cue that the information he had requested had been found. As he approached the door, he saw the note slide underneath for him to pick up. It contained less than he had hoped. Valmyria had been seen at the Grey Fox for some time, then there were reports of a skirmish there that resulted in the deaths of a few Templars, but there weren't any specific details. Afterwards, Val reportedly left, being seen headed towards the markets.

Azreal reequipped himself, weapons and all. Leaving the inn, he headed for the Market District. He wasn't sure where exactly to look, but his hopes were that a woman of her description would stick out. He wasn't disappointed, as at least a few people had noticed her as she went through the markets. Eventually, he tracked her down to a weapon shop. As he entered, he could see her, or at least someone he was pretty sure was her, browsing the store's throwing daggers. He was actually starting to run low on them himself, so he made his way, carefully so as to not get a knife in his eye, over to join her.
His personal favorites were designed with a ring underneath the pommel, used by a culture most had never heard of. They were sharp, thin and versatile. But as he picked them out for purchase, his eyes moved to look at Val. He wanted answers, and was willing to give his findings in return.

But... What to say? May as well give being straightforward a try.

"I've been digging around... and found out some officials in town were working for Cousland. They're... no longer a concern, but we need to talk." He turned his head to face her. "The Teryn's planning something for Revas'Thala."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Glacier » Sat Feb 08, 2014 10:29 am

- Orzammar Diamaond Quarter -

Zasalim remained vigilant as the chaos of the battlefield erupted upon King Aeducan’s doorstep. Luckily for them the chantry was a floor below them and without skilled templars it would take an army to defeat the mages four. As Zasalim prepared to unleash a gambit of spells upon their combatants, a booming voice echoed out from the palace, causing a disruption in the fighting as most everyone turned to see the King appear upon the stairs of the Palace. Morrigan was the real deal apparently, able to quell the fiery dwaven kings fury and even grant them an audience with him. He half expected them to be arrested for assault and battery, and a menagerie of other charges, but he raised his hands in defeat and decided to trust her.

King Khadgar then turned and motioned for them to follow him into the Royal Palace. He put his bladed staff back in its harness on his back and proceeded to walk through the rows upon rows of dwarves on bended knee before their Lord and Ruler. He then climbed up the steps of the Dwarven Crown to enter the Royal Palace. The King maintained a powerful and regal presence, but neither his crown or his robes were extravagant in the least , The Palace on the other hand was masterfully crafted and still stands as a testament to the skill, craftsmanship, and ingenuity of the Dwarves, the Paragons ,and ancestors of old.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Scrambles » Wed Feb 12, 2014 2:13 pm

-Meeting the Alpha Dwarf-

The fight ended as quickly it had begun. Teelo’s heart was racing from the scent of fresh blood. The exchange of words between Morrigan the King were drowned out by the sound of his own blood pumping. Teelo stared at the dwarf at his feet. His lifeless eyes stared staring up at the boy. The forest child felt no remorse for taking his life. He just felt….hungry…

The movement of the group following the king snapped Teelo out of his stupor and returned him to his cheerful self. He ran up beside Zasalim and matched his stride in to the palace. The things inside awed Teelo, his jaw dropped open as he looked at every new wondrous sight. He made sure to keep his eyes on the king however. You never turned your back on the alpha male in the wilds. You stood your ground, never showed fear, and as Teelo had learned from the two-legs, speak with ‘manners’.

“You think the king will trade shiny hat with Teelo?” He asked Zasalim as he held up the amulet he had taken from the merchant before the fight. One of the servants to the king approached the group as they entered the foyer, stopping them before the door to the throne room. “Im afraid your…son there….cannot go before out king like that.” He gestured to all of Teelo, most though to the blood that still coated his hand but also to the ragged pelt Teelo had obtained as a source of warmth in the Frostback Mountains which also served as his only source of clothing besides his loincloth.
Last edited by Scrambles on Wed Feb 26, 2014 11:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Fri Feb 14, 2014 4:25 am

Deacon Reinhardt - Is It Truly Mercy? Pt. 2

Deacon stood silent as Isador carried their prisoner out of the pub, the man's reassurances somewhat comforting, though not as much so as he would have liked. Practically right behind him was the Warden-Commander taking her leave of them. Deacon couldn't help but be bothered by how little she seemed to care about all of this, but maybe this was just her nature. In front of him, the Shadowmage remained quiet, not answering Deacon's request audibly and instead pointing to one of the corpses that littered the floor.

At first, nothing important could be seen, but Deacon soon noticed something. Slowly but surely, those dead on the floor were returning to a healthier skin colour as the lingering magic began to fade of its own accord. Though the men on the floor were returning to health, they were still dead. But as the magic leaked out, it took away the rot with it. It was then Deacon realized what the magic was. Powerful illusion. Valas leaned on his staff staring at the corpses but chose not to speak, but something about his posture betrayed his inner thoughts. He had not enjoyed killing these men.

"Such barbaric methods... Were they really necessary?" Deacon was not speaking merely of Valas' magic. In truth, his memories were slowly resurfacing of the apostates that he had been forced to cut down all those years ago. Since that day he wondered... Maybe... if we had treated them with more respect, and less hatred... it never would have happened... No matter. He shook off the memories, painful as they may be.

"Such talk of regret... It was not you that killed these men. Why are they of concern to you?" Valas' cold response had Deacon's eyes move to meet his. "Or... is it something else, perhaps?"

"That is none of your concern." Through the shadows encircling the mage, Deacon could see a small smile.

"A man of such compassion and kindness as you is nearly unheard of in the Templar Order. And yet something compelled you to leave. Just how long do you intend to carry such a burden alone?" Deacon was not eager to hear the mage's speech, but he continued to listen all the same. "Tread carefully, Deacon Reinhardt. Darkness can take many forms in a man's heart. The corruption it can create, even more so." Those words rung true to the former Templar. He wasn't sure was to make of them just yet, but he thanked him for the advice.

A small nod was his only goodbye to the mage before he left to join Isador in transporting Gregor. As Deacon drew closer, he noticed blood where he had tied the makeshift wrapping on the man's arm. Not too much, implying the the bleeding had mostly stopped. Deacon couldn't help but thank himself. He had originally tied the tight tourniquet and bandage as a formality, but give the nature of Valas' magic, after the illusions dissipated Gregor likely would have been bleeding considerably without any such care. As Deacon matched pace with the Black Axe, he made the issue apparent to him.

"The wrap will do for now, but he still needs care once we reach the Arl."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Blood Lord » Fri Feb 14, 2014 6:56 pm

Valmyria Windstrider

The Warden sighed as the second to last person she wanted to see came in the story. Was it the second or third? She frowned a bit as she struggled to remember the exact order of her hit list, but in the end decided that it didn't matter.

"And who isn't these days?" she replied in response to Azreal's news. It wasn't entirely shocking to her, but made sense since the man decided to use Redcliffe as a bonfire for his own amusement. Her only questions was what he was after. She ran through ideas in her head about what the Teryn could be after, something he'd need. "Seems like everyone wants something out of Revas'Thala"

Valmyria dug the money pouch out and dropped the right amount of coin for her new throwing knives and the belt holster for them. She was getting pretty damn tired of getting caught in a fight with noting more than her knife and the gauntlet. The belt and the knives fit perfectly over her white robes. She readjusted her knife to be in a easier position to grab off of it as well.

"Do you have anything else you want to talk about, or are you just wasting my time?" she asked as she pulled up her hood and walked out of the store.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:33 pm

Azreal Demian - The Cold Shoulder

"Seriously?!" Azreal wasted no time. He dropped his payment for his blades on the counter and followed Valmyria. "This guy burns Redcliffe to the ground, and you don't care what he might do to our home?" The Warden-Commander didn't slow down, didn't turn her head. If she wasn't ignoring him, this was pretty close. "Hey!" A corner was coming up, and he could tell she was about to take it. He pulled a fresh blade from his belt. "Fine! If you gonna be like this..." His throw was swift enough to be called unseen by many, a trait he had learned from Shadow. As Valmyria rounded the corner, the dagger flew passed her face by mere inches. Of course, she stopped as soon as she realized it was coming. He expected as much.

Slowly, she turned her head as Azreal approached her. "The hell you in such a hurry for?" He wasn't sure how she would respond to everything, but he was tired of being out of the loop. "You know what? I guess I can't blame you. If the Teryn had men turning my room upside down, I'd be eager to get 'em outta there too." He could tell from her reaction that she was unaware of that fact. "Yeah, overheard an official talking about it. They're in there looking for a 'gauntlet'. But they're not gonna find it, are they?" He quickly grabbed her arm bearing her bracelet and raised it up. "Because it's right here, isn't it? When the hell were you gonna tell me about this?"
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Scrambles » Sat Feb 15, 2014 1:06 am

-The weight of sin-



The march towards the Keep was uneventful....at first. Isador strode down the street, Gregor over his shoulder. He ignored the glances from the small folk, his attention solely on seeing this man to justice.

What do you know of justice? The question in his mind brought Isador to a halt. That was not his thought...was it? A moment of confusion kept him in place, unable to move.

The sinner now judges sin? Justice indeed.” This voice came from beside Isador instead of in his head. He turned to see himself, adorned in armor and covered in blood.

“Where do you get off thinking yourself better then this wretch? Do you not remember the lives you took across the continent? Oh that’s right, you don’t.” This other Isador let out a mad cackle yet the passersby did not seem to notice the mans existence.

“You...are not real.” Isador proclaimed, though his unsteady voice undermined his usual stoic demeanor.

“HAH! NOT REAL?” The blood drench Black Axe cackled even louder. “I'm as real as you are. After all, aren't we really the same person?”

The sound of glass breaking turned Isador’s attention away from his other self towards a clumsy merchant apprentice for a split second. He turned back to where this crazed version of himself stood and saw nothing.

Isador stared towards where his past self stood for a moment before shaking it off and continuing his march. It wasn't long after that Deacon joined Isador on his walk to the Keep. His friend was concerned for their captives state but Isador's thoughts were elsewhere. The burden of carrying Gregor felt like nothing. Yet his axe seemed to weigh as much as a mountain.

“His wound will be the Arl’s responsibility as soon as we hand him over. Our part is delivering him to the Arl. What happens after that is none of our concern so long as he does not escape.” His words came out cold, possibly unfeeling despite his understanding for Deacons concern for his former brother-in-arms.

The rest of the way the two remained silent. Along the way Strauss continued to see his darker self among the villagers going about their daily lives. The constant sight of what he once was addled Isador to the core. Why now? He had seen things before but not in such frequency. Isador remained locked in his thoughts until he and Deacon reached the Keep.

He shouted for the guards to fetch a healer and placed Gregor upon the ground just inside the Keeps walls. “I....need some time alone..” He spoke to Deacon without looking him in the eye. Isador left the Keep before receiving a response from his friend.

He walked through the streets of Lothering in no particular direction. Where ever he looked, he saw his bloodied, crazed self. The constant sight of his past sent his heart racing. He didn't know what to do. Out of shear instinct he sought refuge within the Chantry. This time around Isador found no one else inside. His previous outburst seemed to have cleared the main hall of worship. Alone at last, Isador sat in one of the middle pews and stared at the alter of the maker for some time.

“What am I to do.....” He prayed aloud to the Maker. For one of the longest minutes of his life Isador sat in silence.

“What do you mean Mr. Strauss?” A familiar voice said, breaking the solemn silence. The Black Axe turned to see Jenni sitting next to him, clad in the same white garb from the hall at Redcliffe.

“How are you here....” Isador asked, streaching forth a hand towards the girl to see if she were real or just a figment of his shattered mind.

Jenni clasped his hand in her own and smiled. “I'm here because you need me to be.” Her voice was angelic, the only thing that could soothe the raging turmoil in Isador’s soul. “You are unsure of something. What is it Mr. Strauss?”

Isador looked to Jenni, then to his weapon. The wicked curve of the blade that had once held promise now only brought feelings of guilt and regret. “I want to bring justice to the world....but I have committed such sin....how can I ever be forgiven for what I have done? What I let happen?” Tears began to form in his eyes. Looking upon the definition of innocence was painful for the Black Axe. His burdens felt like a boulder slowly crushing his soul.

Jenni simply continued to smile. “I cannot give you the answers Mr. Strauss...you have to find them on your own. People still need help, and you can help them. You already have.” She placed a hand upon his cheek and the recent memories of his interactions with Daniels flooded his mind. He recalled the boys looks as he listened to the words of pseudo-wisdom that Isador had given him. The lad had taken them to heart. It was so clear now. Even as a broken man he could still be of use. He didn't have to be whole to be helpful.


He looked down to his weapon. The blood-stained, twisted peace of metal and something clicked within the torn mind of Isador Strauss: A hero need not be a sinless man. Just a man who wanted to see the good in others flourish. A man who plucked the weeds of evil from the garden and did not regard himself as a savior.

‘You are a good man Mr. Strauss. I always knew you did what you thought was right.” Isador looked away from his wicked weapon to where Jenni sat and saw nothing. Pain welled up within his very core and as it runneth over he took up his black weapon and walked to the alter of the Maker.

“I understand...” He spoke in a soft breath as he brought his weapon of cruelty dow upon the alter. Then again, and again, and again. Isador hacked at the alter over and over until the alter was shattered, his weapon destroyed. The servants of the Chantry came to see the cause of the commotion and with both horror and awe looked upon the Back Axe in such a state and did not dare try to stop him.

Heavy in breath, Isador threw down the broken handle of the weapon that gave him his name and walked out of the Chantry without a word. He saw no further visions from his past as he walked calmy towards the smithy. He threw open the doors with all his might. A quick scan brought Marcus and Vovin to his view. He looked at the master blacksmith with the utmost conviction and asked one simple question. "Can you create a weapon that will finally give us peace?"
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Zelosse » Sun Feb 16, 2014 12:11 pm

-Marcus Hammerstrike-


Marcus had lived many years and forged many weapons over that time. Some had been works of art, beautiful to look at and wonderful to hold but useless in a fight. He had made weapons that were crude and unadorned but were extremely effective in combat. But like the weapon his son now held, he had from time to time made weapons with the grace and beauty of a dwarven legend with the strength to match anything under the sun. Though the blade Vovin held reverently was by far his greatest accomplishment it was not his only work of art. His mind drifted to the storage container on the outskirts of town where over the years he had sent some of his greatest works to be kept safe.
Marcus shook his head and merely smiled, patting Vovin on the back. "Stay and think on it. I have more business to take care of for now."

Outside in the main forge the others were looking at him with a mixture of enthusiasm and dissapointment. Clearly they had hoped he would come out brandishing whatever masterwork he had created. The process had been short, considering the actual moldings had been done long ago and the ingredients readied alongside it, but it had still taken well over a day of solid work to shape the metal just right. They would see the blade soon enough. For now, it was time to finish up his other jobs.

Theme song.
over the course of the next few hours, Marcus had talked to a number of people he'd requested visit the shop. A tailor had come by with a pattern Marcus had requested for a new armor set for Deacon, who currently was walking around with mismatched pieces of steel designed for very different kinds of armor. The new design was drawn up and handed to a more skilled metalworker in the forge and was given materials to imbue the metal with some added protection against rust and dents, the tailor likewise paid well to do the same to keep the silk pristine. Deacon had fought hard and earned something in return. There was battle yet to come and the old man figured Deacon wouldn't be far behind it.
'Boulder Bill' had left earlier in the day to rest and seek aid from a healer, and was likely halfway into a drunken stooper. His broken armor was currently being fixed up or entirely remade, Marcus having drew up the blueprints for them and handing them off to another able worker. The final enchantments and refining were Marcus' job but that wouldn't be for some time.
Valmyria Windstrider. Warden commander, and exceptionally skilled ranger, was a different problem. A problem he wished the tailor from earlier was still around for. Or Valmyria herself. Lots of women could fight but they usually did it without resplendent armor gleaming in the sunlight. They had form fitting leathers with small armor plating and or a long flowing robe and high boots. Marcus would need to talk to Val about what she needed personally before he could properly create what she wanted.

Just as he began to relax in his chair, the arrangements all made and the plans all set, he got a rather unexpected visitor. Isador Strauss stormed into his forge with a look he had only seen when he'd first encountered the man many years ago. It was a look of someone who knew what he wanted to do. The look of a dedicated soul set on a task.
He wanted a weapon.

At first Marcus didn't know what to say. Sure, he could make a weapon with ease, but for the black axe? Why would he want one when he had... He didn't. The famed axe of the black reaver was gone. Isador hadn't misplaced it either, of that Marcus could be sure. You didn't get the nickname 'The Black Axe' without having that said thing around at all times. It was likely destroyed or hidden somewhere now.
"A new weapon? For 'we'." He stated flatly. "Peace comes not from having the weapon, Isador. It comes from what you do with it."
"There are wicked to punish and good men who die to them. justice will be mete out." His voice was stern and his eyes focused. Red, but focused.
Silence dragged on for a short time as Marcus simply leaned in his chair with both hands, blackened with soot and flames, sat across his aproned chest. Isador didn't even blink. Marcus' thoughts turned back to the storage container for the briefest of seconds before his eyes lit up. "Grab my hammer." Was all he said, as the elder forgemaster stood up and took off his apron, slipping back on his usual attire. They both walked out of the forge together after he'd given orders to the others in the forge. Business as usual for them, now.



It was a bit of a ride but one that was well worth the time, as the former Black Axe would soon discover. They stood quietly outside of a small cottage in an underdeveloped part of town away from the main traffic. It was clear nobody had been living here for a number of years. Windows broken, the door had all but fallen off, and the smell of dust and soot were thick in the air. The inside didn't fare better. What used to be row upon row of gleaming weapons were now a mismatched jumble of leftovers, the remnants of what thieves either did not bother to take or did not have the space to take all of them. Marcus walked in without the slightest care for the stolen goods. They were a distraction and nothing more.
Marcus took his great hammer and raised it above his head, channeling the fade with a burst of elemental fire that raced up to the great head of the hammer. Which he brought down upon the bricked floor with a grunt and the echo of destruction. The floor gave way and the two fell into the hidden basement below. Though not very big, its contents were breathtaking. Gleaming weapons of obsidian and mithril sat upon pedestals or lay against exotic armors, a kings treasure room worth of cold steel. The brick floor had not shattered like they'd thought, but instead turned to a brick stairway. A trick that had cost Marcus almost as much as the items in this room but worth every copper. Only a strong hammer strike to the right brick would activate the waiting spell.

The forgemaster was quick to his task as usual. Gliding across the stone floor to a wooden case far in the corner almost hidden behind two sets of polished and exotic ebony plate mail. The case was wide and adorned with golden letters in a different language, atop the polished oak and shining silver lock. A whisper was all it took to unlock the wooden case. Marcus handed Isador the black axe and escorted him out of the dilapidated cottage and out into the sun. Isador took hold of the weapon inside and gently lifted it, admiring the balance of the weapon. Though it had two long axe blades, it was not top heavy but instead perfectly set with a large dense stone polished to a shine at the bottom of the shaft.
Marcus took the wooden box under one arm as Isador took the Weapon in both hands. "No weapon can be called by the one who made it, so I will tell you the same thing I told Vovin earlier this day. Give it a name."
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Blood Lord » Wed Feb 19, 2014 11:27 pm

Valmyria Windstrider - Don't touch

Azreal was lucky to be alive, let alone find himself in one piece.

The throwing knife annoyed her. The news of her room being ransacked irritated her.

The grabbing of the wrist pissed her off.

A sudden flash of red emanated from her wrist, the gauntlet reacting to her anger and coming to the defense of its master. The bracelet was gone and in its place was the spiky, demonic gauntlet in all of its terrible glory, extending nearly to Valmyria's elbow.

If the sudden transformation wasn't a shock, the woman's eyes would have given the veteran assassin a very long pause. Within them was the haunting crimson gleam of blood-lust and rage, pure and refined as could be. Valmyria quickly clamped down hard on those feelings before she slashed his throat, and tore her wrist out of his grasp. As the crimson gleam faded from her eyes, a small flicker into the depths of her soul became present, speaking of pain, self-loathing, and regret. It passed suddenly and was replaced with the elf's icy blue stare of determination. Her mask was back on.

"It's not something you need to know about," she replied quietly and with disturbing calmness. The Warden turned and reached forward to grab the knife, but paused as she noticed the gauntlet hadn't retreated. She lowered the hand with a frown and yanked the knife out with her normal hand, returning it handle first to its owner. "It's not something I'm indebted to inform you about either, Azreal."

It worried her that the gauntlet didn't retract when she suppressed her anger. A quickly mental touch with her limited magic confirmed that she was still the master and it the servant. What was starting to worry her was that she was enjoying the feeling of it being out. Flashes of the Battle of Redcliffe assaulted her mind - the feelings, the rush, the look of horror on the faces of her non-darkspawn victims as she cut effortlessly into their bodies with the bladed talons at the end of her fingers... the sweetness of their bloo-

She covered the gauntlet with the sleeves of her robe, blocking out the mental images and rush of emotions. It covered the wicked looking device completely except for a inch above her fingers. She motioned for the assassin to follow her and they continued their walk down the street.

"Our home? You are the last person I would expect to criticize me about Revas'Thala," she said before Azreal had a chance to open his own mouth. "Considering my recent job change though, I can hardly blame you. I'm not a Ranger of the Quel'Elhen, Azreal, I'm the Commander of the Grey now. While I wouldn't leave any people to their deaths, I can hardly know how to help your people when I know so little of the situation... and then there are also the Dalish.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Sigment » Thu Feb 20, 2014 12:59 am

Deacon Reinhardt - Mission Complete

Deacon walked silently alongside his ally as they carried Gregor to the Arl. He noticed that Strauss looked back and forth between various groups of people with a troubled expression. It felt as though someone in the crowds was bothering the man, but everyone was merely going about their lives. By the time Deacon was willing to ask about it, they had arrived at their destination, and Strauss took the opportunity to leave, asking that he be left alone. Deacon respected his request. The healer Isador had called for arrived and began to look at Gregor's wound. While his former comrade was tended to, Deacon called a pair of guards to move the Knight-Captain to a holding cell, then made his way inside to report to the Arl.

Deacon traveled from hallway to hallway before arriving at the Arl's Quarters, guarded by two former Redcliffe guards. "I need to see him."

"Of course, Ser Reinhardt. He's expecting you." The guard opened the door, allowing Deacon to proceed through. He took a respectful knee, bringing his arms together to make his report to his new Lord.

"Your Lordship, we have successfully apprehended Knight-Captain Gregor. He and his men resisted, and I am afraid that his subordinates were killed before we could arrest them. The Knight-Captain is wounded, but we should still be able to interrogate him once he regains consciousness."

___

Azreal Demian - Playing with Fire

The bracelet's transformation hardly surprised the assassin. Having guessed its nature, he was expecting it. What he did not expect was the look in Valmyria's eyes afterwards. Fury and bloodlust were two words that could be used to describe them. Azreal's expression did not change, but he was almost sorrowful to see what his former ally was becoming. After she calmed down, she handed him back his dagger. His worries grew when it seems that she was not as in control of the demonic armor as she may have thought.

The two walked as she spoke for a moment. He kept his mouth shut until she mentioned the Dalish. "Well, now... Funny that you should bring them up." With his mask on, his smile was hidden yet obvious all the same. "My first target, a merchant called Antonio de Alrigt...? I saw him organizing a trade with a Dalish woman. Someone named Ariane. Sounded like the trade contained supplies to support their war efforts, so I'm guessing the Teryn means to support them in their fight with us." Azreal pulled out the poison he used on the merchant. "Used this on him. Pretty potent stuff. Anyway, I'm hoping that without de Alrigt, preparations for the shipment will be delayed. But I have no clue where he was keeping those supplies."
Last edited by Sigment on Wed Feb 26, 2014 11:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Draken30000 » Fri Feb 21, 2014 3:15 pm

Vovin stood within the forge as Marcus displayed the true prowess of his smithing skills. The young Dragon Knight's eyes were wide and reflected the light that shone from his father's work. He had never seen anything like the blade that was beginning to take shape under Marcus's expert guidance. As his mentor worked, and the blade inched closer and closer to its final form, Vovin felt a distinct tugging in his soul towards the blade. Eventually he could focus on nothing but the brilliant blue of the weapon, so much so that when it was actually complete he ended up shaking his head suddenly to dispel the hypnotic effect that had gripped him. Vovin looked Marcus in the eyes as the weapon was presented to him. He was briefly concerned about the apparent damage to his father's arms, but the old man quickly made it clear that he felt no pain. Vovin reached forward, his eyes falling to the magnificent sword in front of him. As he gripped the handle he felt bolts of electricity race along the flesh of his arms. Marcus asked him to name the weapon.

For the next few moments Vovin was silent, eyes locked on the mighty blade that was now his. Marcus left him to think, but Vovin already knew the name of the sword. It had popped into his mind as soon as he had touched it. Only now, however, did the word escape his mouth. "Adraksh." he whispered, more to the weapon than anyone else. As soon as the name was uttered there was a surge from both the sword and the dragon spirit connected to Vovin. Blue electricity surged up the knight's arms from the sword, crackling around his entire body and causing his hair to stand on end, giving his entire visage a spiky appearance for a moment. Just holding Adraksh made him feel faster, stronger. A short time and a new weapon later and Vovin suddenly felt like a completely different warrior.

Stepping out of the secluded room that had birthed the mighty sword, Vovin was met with the amazed gazes of the other workers. He walked past the astounded smiths and lackeys, pushing open the door and stepping out into the street, sheathing the blade upon his back in the process. It was time to make a name for the Order.
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Glacier » Fri Feb 28, 2014 6:17 pm

-Inside the Royal Palace-

Zasalim looked down from his surveying the inner dwellings of the dwarven crown to see Teelo holding up his stolen amulet asking if the King would trade the crown for such a trinket. He looked to the forest child with disapproval for the tiny offering in his eyes, "Not even for your weight in those amulets! I'm afraid that hat is no mere trinket. It is the Kings Crown, Marks him the ruler of all dwarves everywhere and dwarven commander in chief to all the other races"

As they continued into the palace one of the king's servants approached him saying that Teelo couldn't approach the throne as he was... and upon a closer inspection beyond that of a passing glance, the servant had a point. Teelo looked like he'd just been pulled off a fresh, warm, kill. "Umm, yeah..., We've had a rough time getting here from Redcliffe" he said scrathcing the back of his head. Apparently Zasalim was now Teelo's guardian in the eyes of most people they'd come across. The kid kinda just followed him to this point, but he was useful and was beginning to grow on him as a traveling companion. Zasalim looked himself over and got a whiff of his own pungent aroma as well. "He could use some new clothes and we could both use a bath about now, huh" he said to the dwarf maidservant.

She motioned for them to follow her and proceeded to lead them into the royal bath house. "A fog of warm mist met them as they entered the hot, steamy room full of dwarven maidens waiting to clean them from head to toe. A few members of the royal family could be heard in the private chambers chatting up their chamber maids and soaking in the relaxing hot tub and cozy atmospere. They were soon surrounded and embraced into the lap of luxury as they soaked in the tub letting all their trouble drift away " He snapped out of his daydream to see her opening the door to the real bath house
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Re: Dragon Age: Divided Kingdom IC - Upon Crossroads.

Postby Draken30000 » Tue Mar 11, 2014 10:36 am

Vovin strode through the streets of Lothering, seeking the Captain of the Red-Guard. He had heard word that the captain was looking for aid in dealing with a potential threat, something about the Teryn's men. Vovin was determined to show the good that he and his Order could bring to the world, and helping quell threats seemed like as good a place as any to start. He managed to locate a guard and asked for the location of the Red-Guard Captain. The guard was happy to assist the rather fearsome looking young man. The Dragon Knight's visage had changed a bit since the fall of Redcliffe. He had nearly died and had watched his father collapse and come near to death as well because of it. Perhaps not gone, but diminished was the naiveté he had displayed before the battle. It was time to get serious, it was time to work on his mission.

He located the Red-Guard Captain and hailed him. Approaching and giving a short bow, the young man announced "Greetings sir Captain. My name is Vovin Dranis, of the Draconis Order. I caught wind that you needed assistance in dealing with a threat to the Arl and his forces. I offer all that I can to help you."
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