As the title suggests, feel free to RP it up.
Sun Apr 21, 2013 2:17 am
Teelo was having a blast in this two-leg den! What did they call it? A town? So many two-legs to play with! He had spent much of the morning as a cat playing with the two-leg cubs, being fed delicious things and laying in the sun. After a while the cubs were called back by their den mothers so Teelo decided to look for people to trick as a sparrow. He loved being able to fly, nothing felt as free as soaring above the land. After several hours of targeting Two-legs and pranking them, either by cutting purses or tossing a bolo or two Teelo grew tired of this ‘town’ and headed back to the forests.
As he made his trek back as a dog he caught the scent of meat in the air, the sort of scent you only found in the towns of the Two-legs..but it was near the trees. Curious, Teelo tracked the scent to an elf walking in to his domain. His stride was that of the forest elves, what did they call themselves? Daylish? Something like that…but Teelo was more focused on the sweet smells of the food he carried. He ran up to the elf and played his best whimpering mutt that he could, trying to coax the elf to give him some of his food.
The Templars words caught the Black Axe off guard….no one had ever asked him about what had happened that night…had they? His memory was too fragmented to recall. “You don’t know what you ask….that night…broke me.” He said as he returned to sharpening his axe, the process was a comfort to Isador, something that brought peace to his mind. “Have you ever gone on retrieval missions Captain? I brought back so many hysterical mages of all ages…but the last one…that girl…” He stopped sharpening for a moment, once again plagued by the memory of that crying child begging for help; help that Strauss did not give.
“The leaders of the Templars….whore mongers and rapists…LIARS AND FALSE IDOLS!” He roared, standing and swinging his axe in to the Armoire in his room. “Do you know what they did to the women of the tower?! They raped them! Over and over again!” He shouted his rage and memories joining as one, that night flashing back in to his mind. “FOR SO MANY YEARS THEY ABUSED THE POWER GIVEN TO THEM BY THE MAKER!!!!.” After a moment Isador regained his composure, taking a deep breath and yanking his axe out of the Armoire. “I learned of the truth of what they did…from their own mouths, even told them that I would expose the truth and do you know what they did? They laughed.”
The memory of that night was almost too much, without the extremely strong alcohol given to him by the dwarf Isador may have hacked the furniture in the room to splinters. “I can only remember blood after they told me the truth….I regained my senses as I stood over one of their bodies….and saw the only one left alive…the Knight Commander MacCullen and…well everyone knows what I did to him before I fled the tower.” He said with the slightest sign of a smirk. That moment he remembered well; along with the screams of the Commander as he carved in to his flesh. “If you want the more gruesome details…Im afraid I cannot recall.” He said as he took his seat once again, this time facing the door and continued to sharpen his precious axe.
Sun Apr 21, 2013 12:12 pm
“A ‘hero’ huh?” Bill looked down at the dwarf, a sly looking smirk upon his face as he watched the other man down the bottle of wine.
“If you think I look like a hero, then you’re not as smart as I first thought…” Bill said in a neutral tone, tipping up his own bottle of wine and taking a large gulp. Wine was too sweet for Bill’s taste but it would suffice for the time being. He was amidst company that he did not particularly trust, there was no point in him getting so drunk that he was seeing double. But John’s reasoning was somewhat along the lines of what he had expected to hear from a thief, however Bill was not too sure what kind of reward had been offered to the little dwarf. The journey itself would likely bear some fruitful treasures along the way, however the risk involved was not something your usual thief would undertake.
“There’s a funny thing about loot and treasure, you can have all the money in the world but be unable to spend it if you’re dead.” The stone knight shifted his weight for a moment, turned his head and looked over to where the Teryn was standing before.
"Between you and me I think that you're a bit over your head in this matter... though I'm sure you're used to such things by now." Bill said with a slight chuckle, short jabs never got old for Bill when he was talking with a dwarf.
“I have a debt that needs to be re-paid… They have nothing to offer me and had it not been for Marcus I would have walked right out of those doors… I won’t take anything from these people.” Bill turned to look back at the dwarf, the same smug looking smirk upon his face as before.
“I’m a killer, Dwarf. I won’t be satisfied until I’ve found and killed every last person who has wronged me in the past. Tell me, does that sound like something a hero would say to you?” he said before taking another gulp of wine.
Sun Apr 21, 2013 2:22 pm
- Redcliffe -
As Zasalim made his way towards the inn he’d set his sights on, he could hear the pitter patter of small feat approaching him. His “knife” ears didn’t miss much as keen as they were and soon he heard what sounded like a dog whimpering behind him. At first he simply tried to wave the creature off. He was hungry himself and whatever rations the dog could smell on him were for his journey back to Revas’ Thala. It did remind him that he had some beautifully smoked nug jerky in his satchel, but that was indeed for the road ahead.
When the whimpering persisted, as it often did, he turned around to face the beggar at his heels. He looked the dog over and eventually stared deep into its eyes. What he saw there was raw and primal in nature, but still the eyes of a child.
“I wonder, what might you be looking for hmm? Perhaps you smelled this!” he said reaching into his bag and pulling out a strip of the freshly smoked nug meat. “Or maybe you just want some attention…. Either way you’ll find neither here so off with you. I have my own belly to fill pup.” He said to the dog. He didn’t believe it could understand him, but he still continued toward the inn and the mutton stew. He didn’t want to be cruel, but when in shemlin lands he never knew what would befall him and looking out for number one came first.
He had no doubt the dog would try to follow so he didn’t rush off. He rather liked the dog, but feral creatures we‘rent readily accepted among the shem.
Last edited by Glacier
on Sun Apr 21, 2013 9:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sun Apr 21, 2013 7:11 pm
Denerim Estate with Isador.
The Knight-Captain furrowed his brows in thought and processed what the intimidating man had said. He swilled the contents of his mug and stared into it deeply. He couldn't imagine the feeling, to have given your life and devoted so much to an order of supposed righteous men who claimed to fight evil and protect the innocent, and then be betrayed in such a way. It was enough to break any man.
"I have been on a few retrieval missions for the Circle," he said, nodding in agreement. "My last post was at the Circle Tower, and I have done some Harrowing and Tranquil sessions as well, very unnerving... my... unit, I guess you could say, was a Hunter-Killer team... We would be deployed track a rogue mage and exterminate them... They all died horribly, I was saved by a Elven Ranger, and promoted once we returned."
He took a long drink from the contents of his mug before carrying on. "The Templar Order claimed there was an "accident" at the Tower, and a lot of Seekers were brought in to investigate. Questions were asked, rumors were spread, but we never really found out why. The rumor has it that you were driven mad by Lyrium and attacked your superiors. Not many of us could believe that though. I don't know what has become of the investigation, but my sources in the Seekers tells me it is still on going. For what it is worth, I am sorry that you had to go through that and experience such an event. Although we profess to be lead by the Divine, men are easily corruptible and fall easy into the temptations of sin."
Tue Apr 23, 2013 11:47 am
Redcliffe Castle -- It Speaks
Laenolen stepped forward and glanced to his taller companion. Arvashok simply nodded, watching. He already had some words he was wishing to express, but they weren't likely to be helpful with the cessation of bickering. "I am Lainolen, a Dalish Warden. And this," he gestured his free hand to Arvashok while smiling as friendly he could to compensate for his friend's regular scowl, "is Arvashok. As you can guess, he is Qunari."
Arvashok stepped forward, glancing toward the general. "Indeed..." He then turned his gaze to the other men present, staring at them. He stopped upon looking at Relind Arlsong. "You would squabble over possibilities without seeing if a threat exists? Despite your "great" kingdom's history of foolishly in-fighting and welcoming a Blight to ransack half its lands... You are a fool." He then gazed to the others, most especially the Arl. "This is a war council, yet this fat dathrasi was allowed in?" He closed his eyes a moment. "Meravas..."
Laenolin stared, mouth agape as he watched the behemoth openly insult a bann and question the intellect of everyone else. "You wish to deny talan presented to you?" Arvashok returned his attention to Bann Relind. "Ashaad... Send your fastest scouts to represent you. Then they can return to you and tell you firsthand how incompetent you are so that you may send reinforcements." He neglected to state that anything the bann controlled was useless in the first place and his troops wouldn't be desired anyway. But it was easily assumed.
Arvashok turned to Valmyria and snorted a little. "Teth a," his head nodded to Bann Arlind, "maraas imekari..."
Fri Apr 26, 2013 3:27 pm
"Ha ha ha, very witty, another great quip." he said dryly, to the short crack. "Anyway, I'm willing to bet that if anyone is going to survive this, it'll be me. If I'm wrong, you can take the fee from my corpse, and I'll do likewise." He took out a vial and tipped a small amount of fine powder into his drink, his mouth moved silently as he calculated the volume of the cup, and the amount of grains to drop in. "Oh, and sociopathic tendancies, bulging muscles, aesthetic preferences for either intimidating and excessive armour or none at all, to show off aforementioned muscles. Warped sense of honour. self-centeredness, so on, so on. That's a hero alright." He looked up at him. "What, did you think heroes were nice? There are no nice heroes. Nice people, already quite rare, don't go out and slay dragons, or fight off crazed necromancers, or last three minutes against darkspawn, because, they suck and they die. They're stupid, and most of the time, they're a hindrance." He took a cautious sip or the now bubbling liquid and winced. "I mean, come on. Who so you see here that doesn't at least have the capacity, to be a right, down and dirty, kick to the nuts, bastard? And you sure won't find him in a mirror, Hero." He offered the goblet up.
Mon Apr 29, 2013 10:34 pm
Redcliffe-Teelo on a mission
What was that delicious smelling meat? Teelo had to have it! He ran off away from the two-leg to change back in to his true form and ran ahead alond the meat holders path, making sure to stay out of sight. When he was far enough ahead he climbed on top of a “house” as the two-legs called it and waited for the right moment to enact his plan. As the meat holder walked by a few other two-legs Teelo asked the wind for a favor as he had learned to do not too long ago. A swift wind blew in to the town towards the meat holder, whipping up around him. With a swift gust upwards it blew the meat holders robes up around his head right in front of the other two-legs. Teelo nearly fell off of the roof laughing so hard but he stopped himself from rolling off. He quickly jumped from the roof, changed back in to a dog and ran back to the two-leg to watch his reaction.
Isador laughed heartily at the mention of the Seekers. “Ah yes…the Seekers.” He said as he inspected the blade of his axe. “Do you think that the sole survivor of that day would have the resources to send assassin after assassin after me?” He looked up at the Templar, an eyebrow raised questioningly. “Since my flight from the tower that night I have lost count of the Crows I have killed, some barely worthy of being called an adult….the only ones I haven’t had to kill so far are the ones that brought me here.” He spat on the whetstone once more and continued his work. “And as for my going mad, well that’s not far from the truth…the Lyrium withdrawals have robbed me of my memory and made me the splendid gent you see before you.”
Isador recalled the look of horror he saw on MacCullens face as he carved in to his flesh. It brought a smiled to the Black Axe’s face, that wicked grin that unnerves most men. “I don’t give a shit if the Chantry ever really learns the truth about what happened, Im done with all the hypocrisy….but…I do thank you…not for your empathy….but for not thinking me insane the moment I opened my mouth.”
Sat May 04, 2013 7:50 am
Zasalim had experience with feral animals, despite the odd recourse he knew the hound would be back. He gave the pup a visual of the prize and it already had the scent. It was never that easy to be rid of a wild dog anyway. He continued down the path casually, his mind adrift as he took in the sights, smells, and people along the way. When the fierce wind came rolling down the village road he was on he heard it first and braced for it to pass, looking up he saw a calm and clear sky. When the wind swirled around him and caused an intense up draft he knew this wasn't a natural gust.
He remained calm in the midst of his hallah leather cloak billowing up around his face and with a tap of his staff to the cobble stone street he wrapped himself in a transparent telekinetic bubble. It wasn't strong enough to be seen or stop an attack, but the wind would no longer be a bother. What did bother him was the fact that someone sent a magical breeze his way. He looked around for a moment trying to catch any eye contact or averted gazes among the crowd there where a few wandring eyes and people surprised by the sudden wind blowing through town, but all else seemed normal. He then noticed the dog running back to him. "I knew you couldn't stay away huh" he said as Teelo approached. He looked toward the inn and figured it could wait another minute or two. He then turned his attention back to the dog. He kneeled down and extended his hand while trying not to make eye contact. He was inviting Teelo to sniff him as dogs commonly do to get acquainted.
Sat May 04, 2013 1:46 pm
(Hope you don't mind me just coming in, Zelosse.)
Quickly seeing that the mages were not inclined to converse at the moment, Vovin instead decided to explore the estate. With an acknowledgement to Marcus, Vovin set out to wander the halls of the Teryn's domain. The place was fairly big, and the young warrior had no want of more space to explore. Everything was beautifully crafted, and he found himself stopping to admire a tapestry or the mason work more than once. In his wanderings, he found the forge that Marcus was working within. At the time, however, the clanging of his mentor's trade was quite audible. Vovin chuckled and kept walking, for he knew better than to disturb the old man while he was working without good reason. He resolved to visit later. More time passed as the spirit warrior ambled throughout the castle. He did not visit very many rooms, but he did overhear fragments of a few conversations, including one that seemed to involve the one known as the Black Axe. Not one to eavesdrop, Vovin moved on swiftly and did not catch wind of anything important from these chats. Soon night was upon them, and Vovin felt that Marcus would probably be done working at this time. Making his way back to the forge, Vovin's suppositions were confirmed; the forge was silent. Knocking on the door, Vovin announced "Mind if I come in, old timer?" before entering.
Vovin gave his mentor a grin as he took a seat. What have you made there? Some kind of armor? It looks incredibly well crafted. Well, I shouldn't be surprised, you made it after all." the young man laughed. Then Vovin's face become somewhat somber. "About earlier...I'm sorry I didn't run it by you first. I really should have asked your opinion on the matter before I just...threw myself into the Teryn's service. I apologize. Do you think this guy can be trusted? Are we doing the right thing? he asked, looking to Marcus with an unsure glance.
Sun May 05, 2013 3:16 am
*At the forge* (Before his little sit-down)
A creak at the door turned the old mans head, though he expected it to be the mages it was instead the young pupil Vovin. Usually a sight for sore eyes. Right now it seemed a gloomy reminder of mistakes made and worse mistakes yet to come. He tried to look as if nothing was amiss but knew deep down that the boy wasn't that thick. He'd know. The problem was how much was the boy told before his order sent him out the door. Had the orders leader explained to Vovin why Marcus always returned but never stayed long? Had he told Vovin about his mothers mistake with a wanderer one summers night all those years ago.
If the boy knew, it certainly didn't seem like it.
"Vovin. Just in time. I'm replacing some of the chains on this armor as a little gift for those young kids back in the lobby. Sorry bastards. Probably lived all their life in fear of a blade that might never fall.." Marcus was sitting down comfortably in the corner, his great two handed hammer rested close by and one of the two silver hammers lay across the anvils side. "Honestly Vovin, I can't speak for right or wrong. My gut says no but it has been wrong before. You need not apologize for agreeing to something, you're a man now and I taught you to stand by your conviction and your words. Though I did teach you to think things through first, but one could blame the impatient dragon side you have always displayed." Picking up a piece of wood nearby, he flung it casually into the open flames to keep the warmth in the room though it was already enough to cause a good sweat.
"I don't think this Teryn is trustworthy. But it is not our place to say. Power and wealth don't often come to those who play fair after all. Still, make the best of this and when the time comes... Show everyone why you came here today. Carve out a piece of the mountain that is life for yourself. Not for me, not for your mother, not for your order. Do it for Vovin Dranis." A still silence passed between them for a moment, which felt like an eternity for Marcus as he slowly built up the courage needed to ask something like this. "What news of.. Of your mother. Is your.. Father, doing well?"
Sun May 05, 2013 10:34 am
-Within the forge-
Vovin watched his mentor's face as he talked. The many hours of conversation they had shared in the past served the young man well here; he knew something was bothering Marcus, and it soon became apparent that it was not his pupil's hasty decision. Vovin chuckled as Marcus brought up his impatient side and subsequently compared it to a dragon. Then the old man switched to a more serious tone, something he did often and was quite good at. Vovin leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped over his knees, contrasting the more comfortable figure of Marcus. His mentor had made a point that Vovin had not considered, wealth was not often acquired fairly nowadays. Then his old friend's words struck a chord in the spirit warrior. He felt the almost religious fervor of his mission rekindled, and a smile broke out on his face. He knew that his grin said it all; he would tackle life and bring recognition to himself. But something else the smith had said, or rather the sequence of what he had said, caught his pupil's attention. Do not do it for Marcus, not for his mother, not for the order...Then he had seemed to struggle to muster up the courage to ask of his parents. Vovin's face betrayed the fact that he had picked up on this, but whether or not Marcus would recognize it as such remained unknown. After another pause, Vovin leaned back and closed his eyes. A deep breath followed this as the young man gathered his thoughts. "Father is, well, Father. Full of pride, encouragement, "Go forth for the Order", you know the deal." Vovin began with a light laugh. Then his face grew somber. "I...could never lie to you Marcus. Mother is sick. Very sick. She came down with her illness a week before I was to depart. I...I wanted to stay, to see her through it so that I could leave with a light heart. But she herself insisted, said that it was my destined time. That she believed in me. That she loved me. So I left, and I do not know her fate. No word has come" Vovin's head fell into his hands as he struggled to suppress his worry, sorrow, and the urge to bring up the last part of his story.
He looked back to that day, as he knelt by his mother's bedside. Her voice was quiet from the sickness, but still carried that conviction that Vovin's father claimed was what had first drawn him to her. "...and do not forget that I love you, Vovin." The ill woman concluded. "I won't, mother, I love you too." Vovin choked, his worry constricting his throat. As he stood to leave, however, a frail hand gripped his own. Vovin had looked down, quizzically, at his mother. "Vovin...about Marcus..." she began, but stopped. Vovin could see the struggle in her still beautiful eyes, her mind wrestling with itself. "I-If you see him...tell him he is missed and that we wish he could have been here for your departure. He would have made a fine companion for you." Vovin smiled and nodded before turning to leave.
Vovin looked up from his hands. "Mother said that...you have been missed and she wished you could have been there for my departure." Vovin let out a mirthless laugh. Although funny enough, she also said you would make a great companion, and here we are. Irony."
Tue May 14, 2013 12:44 am
Valmyria Windstrider - Redcliffe Castle
The Warden Commander silenced a laugh just in time as the awkward silence fell upon the party. She glanced over to the nobles; Bann Relind Arlind stared with his mouth open in disbelief, Arl Hailstrom wore a mixed expression of shock and amusement, the other nobles seemed surprised as well. It was only the General that showed any other emotions. His face was in his hands and his body was shaking in attempts to refrain from busting out in laughter. Valmyria glanced up at the large Qunari and smiled, speaking only one word "Tal." He had hit the nail on the head in this one, but knew that it wouldn't be so easy to discard the Bann from the council. He was still a member of the Redcliffe Council and had to sit in and cast his vote. Honnleath was near the southern borders and its Bann was known for his merchant skills.
The elf stepped forward before any of the other men could recover. "My Lords," she said with a bow. "We are pleased and grateful to be here and offer our services in helping to solve this dilemma and maintain the peace. I wish to ask those present to remember that my newest Warden is a Qunari who have a very ordered socialization structure, and when asked for their opinion, they will give it."
The Arl simply nodded and held his hand in front of the Bann who moved forward, and shot him a look. The Bann glared back and simply raised his hands up and walked back to the table to take his seat. "Come then," said Arl Hailstrom. "We welcome your aid at this time. A few sets of fresh eyes could show us new possibilities... General, lets have a recap"
Valmyria followed him back to the table. Three seats were made available for the Wardens, and a mug of ale for them as well. Val hide a half sad smile, but knew it was too late for her to recover in time to hide the droop in her shouldersand the slightly sluggish movement in her limbs. To anyone watching, this would tell them just how tired she was. She couldn't remember what their cultural thoughts were towards that. Personally, she wanted something stronger. A lot stronger. With gentleness, she unstrapped the weapons from her back and hung them from the back of her chair so she could sit comfortably. The General, finally recovered from his fits of laughter leaned forward and motioned to the large map on the table. It was a fairly detailed map that showed the much of the surrounding area. Wooden pieces lay scattered on the map. Brown squares represented villages, grey ones larger towns, and a red piece with a turret represented Redcliffe. Smaller yellow triangles stood by at every village, some had two or three. These must represent either garrisons or militias. Blue squares were less prevalent, but represented companies of soliders and were spread out to cover some weak areas and a few towns. A string of four was along the main road moving towards the famed fortress of Ostagar and a few were around Redcliffe as well.
"This is our current military forces," boomed the General. "We're in a strictly defensive pattern at the moment. Something is striking at the Kingdom and hell is blowing up around us. We don't know who is causing this or where our enemies are at. It's short of a nightmare. We do have a division heading towards Ostagar to reinforce the troops there. The Chasind are getting pretty active and bold. nothing clear yet, but we want to be certain that no one catches us with our pants down ."
The Arl nodded his head in agreement. "We don't know what is going on and reports from our scouts are... conflicted. We had one report that suggested my brother, the Teryn of Highever, could have a hand in this... there is War all around us."
The General looked over at Arvashok. "Arvashok," he said. "Out of all of us here, I'm willing to bet that you have the most combat experience. Any advise here?"
Denerim Estate with Isador.
Knight-Captain Gregor knew where the man stood right now, and hoped he would never have to take a stand there. Still, he hoped that Isador would find peace someday. Either in his own heart, or in the fall of battle. He hoped someday the man before him would once again stand up and stand for something greater than himself. He had inspired many Templars with his actions, and while his seemingly betrayal had broken many of those hearts, many still stood with his example of greatness in their minds. But he kept these words to himself, and changed the subject.
He nodded his head in acceptance. "So Ser Isador, do you have any questions for me? If not, what do you know about this target that we hunt?"
Wed May 15, 2013 4:05 am
*Inside the castle, near the gardens*
A lone scout half-walked and half-limped through the castle, escorted by two guards with uneasy faces about them. The stranger had been let in through the front gate and into the inner castle as a messenger and scout for Valmyria the Grey Warden, how could he not be if he'd gotten so deep into the castle. Right?
So on the group walked in silence through the halls, the voices of others occasionally leaking into the great hall. Not loud enough to get anything useful but enough to identify a number of people in the rooms scattered about. Finally the guards stopped in front of a large door leading the the gardens where Val and the leaders of Redcliffe were assembled. The guards reached for the door and opened it to admit the lone stranger.
"Sorry to interrupt. This man arrived for... For Valmyria. He said it was urgent he be at her side. We believe him to be a scout." The guard saluted and stepped aside to let the stranger with the funny walk enter, the guards already apologizing and closing the door.
There in the door stood a relatively small man. He wore a very long silk shirt that was very worn out but still functional, with leather gloves up to his arms along with a heavy vest, a long cloak was about his shoulders with the hood up and a patchy scarf around his face. His pants were loose looking leather, worn out but in good repair. A number of pockets lined his belt and lower leg. His boots were padded and large for him but it didn't seem to bother the man. He caught Valmyria's eye and hobbled forward, waving away the guards who tried to help him. He coughed from time to time as he made his way to the warden. With a stiff bow, he took out a small dagger from behind his back and held it out for Val to see.
When the cloak had moved, the warden would see the scimitar sheathed at his hip all to clearly. The sharp and alien eyes peering out of the dark hood like two lanterns in a sea of angry black. His totems were gone and his typical armor likely hidden below the very loose clothing. "M-Miss..."
He coughed, feigning a throat sore from yelling and wheezing, "Val.. I-I found this. This dagger. S-Strange markings."
He rasped, bending low in servitude.
Something big was happening and Zha'Gren intended to be close when it did. The biggest surprise would come if his gut was right.
Marcus sat in silence for what felt like a long time silently dwelling on his past. His mistakes and his greatest failure of his 'noble' existence. He had worked so long to be a righteous man of duty and honor but he fell. He fell like everyone else did and refused to pick up where he left off. He'd spent the rest of his life wandering for what it was that was lost but couldn't do it. Marcus had crafted more weapons and armor in his lifetime than most blacksmiths will likely ever do. But why did he do it? Why had it become his mission to suddenly take his already skilled hands into even further places.
He knew now. He was trying to make something better than what he'd done all those years ago, atop the dragons rise. He could never make a son with metal and iron, but he tried anyways."Your Mother... She was. She was always so beautiful. So full of life, and caring. When I visited you all those years she would bring me meals and remind me of why I still fought for what was right.."
He trailed off silently, face to the ground searching for the words but finding only the pain in his heart. "I loved her as no other woman I've met. There is a hole in my heart, Vovin. A void where once there was peace. If I told you that once upon a time I betrayed your father and everyone in your family, would you still respect me? Would you still look upon me with that peaceful smile you always carry?"
Marcus' face was like stone when he finally lifted his head, the intensity in his eyes showed a mask of pain. "Would you still want to walk your path knowing I stole from your father something he can never get back."
Last edited by Zelosse
on Fri May 17, 2013 5:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
Thu May 16, 2013 11:26 am
Arvashok looked over the map, noting the greater abundance of militia than real soldiers. He'd heard the stories, but to see the inaction of humans so clearly displayed... It was any wonder that the Imperium had managed to last so long with just the advantage of their magic. He slowly lifted his head from the map, pondering on something else. The arl mentioned a brother, a teryn, who may have been influencing events. He deeply grunted under his breath.
"History is to be learned from..." Arvashok stayed at his feet while the others sat, including Lainolen. A Qunari never willingly takes off his weapon, even for mere comfort. "Ensuring a political challenge is secured before," his eyes glanced aside when he noticed Zha'Gren entering the area, "the horde arrives would seize all possible resources. If the people do not stand together, they will fall. No amount of strategy could prevent otherwise..." He then darted his eyes to the corners of the map. "Afterwards, acquiring aid from the dwarves would be most beneficial. They have expert knowledge against Darkspawn." He slowly glanced to Valmyria while she was handling 'Gren. "Their alliances with Grey Wardens are one thing, but we must be sure they would aid the kingdom once more."
Fri May 17, 2013 11:51 pm
Brecilian Forest, en route to... Redcliffe?
Deacon finished unpacking his gear, and was ready to rest. First thing was first... Where in Ferelden was he? He pulled out the map and... He was practically in the center of the forest! He thought he had been heading south southwest, so he pulled out his compass. Looking closely, he found out the compass was defunct, and that he had been heading south southeast. "Tch... That's the last time I accept a 'generous gift' from a dwarf..."
Throwing the compass into the trees, he knew needed to get back on track. Looking at the map, the Brecilian Passage was directly west of him. "I'll wait until morning. I can then make my way west, using the sun and the moss on the trees... If the Maker is kind, I can get to the passage within a day, then get back on track to Redcliffe." He layed down his mat, after making sure the fire he made would last the night. As he laid himself down to sleep, he thought to himself, "Maker, why did I have to take the scenic route...?"
Sat May 25, 2013 11:28 am
The silence between Vovin and Marcus was almost palpable. The young Spirit Warrior's eyes were locked on his mentor's, the hard, pained gaze of the old man being met with one of wide eyed confusion from his pupil. Vovin's mouth slowly dropped open as he tried to form words. His mind was a tempest of thought, and the boy struggled to pluck just one from the storm. The silence stretched on a few moments more before words finally formed on Vovin's lips.
"Y-you...You mean that...you are..." Vovin knew what his mentor was insinuating, but he could not believe it. Despite the mounting evidence in his head, he could not form the word that would now describe Marcus, a word that had previously been reserved for another. Flashbacks to his days within the Order played out before Vovin's eyes. The way his mother would become a wellspring of joy and energy whenever Marcus came to visit. How that happiness and energy would just...diminish when he left. It never fully vanished, it just shrank. The looks that she would give the blacksmith. Vovin always thought that they were just old friends, but now...He recalled the night before he left, one more time. Now he knew what his mother wanted to tell him. Vovin broke eye contact with Marcus to look down briefly. When their eyes were no longer linked, Vovin at last felt a licking flame of anger, welling up inside him. He raised his head once more, and Marcus would see a reflection of his own ferocious eyes in his son's. But when Vovin's eyes met his father's once again, the rage dissipated instantly. The look of anguish on the old man's face vanquished the warrior's fury. Vovin could not hate his own father for an action that he truly regretted....even if that action was his own conception. Vovin looked down again. "I...need some time to think...." was all the boy said before he stood up, crossed to the door, and stepped out into the hall.
Thu May 30, 2013 5:27 pm
Valmyria Windstrider - Redcliffe Castle - Today is going to be a long day...
The Warden eyed Zha'Gren has he walked over to her, she slide her chair out at an angle when he arrived, showing to the Lords of Redcliffe that despite this "scout" she was still here for this conference and that this would only take a moment. She nodded to the Darkspawn scout. "It's a surprise to see you here," she replied as she took the dagger from his hand for a closer examination. "With the wounds you sustained in the wilds, I would have expected you to stay in the village. Resting." Val turned the dagger over and pretended to examine it. It was one of his, she had no doubt about that. She wouldn't have been surprised if it was one of the few that he threw at her in the mountain pass. There was a message trying to be conveyed here... the offering of a dagger could mean a challenge to a fight, which he wouldn't do here, not like this. Or...
They were in danger, but Zha couldn't pin point it or else he would have taken care of it himself. Offering a danger to a friend or an ally was a gesture to be careful of danger nearby when the situation was safe. It was like saying "It's too dangerous to go alone, here take this."
"Ehh, mil'lady?" said the Arl.
"Oh, uh... It's nothing really. We were ambushed on the road here by a man using a similar dagger and it would seem that there are more trying to get to us." she lied, and glanced over to the Quinari and Mage. Hopefully they caught on as well. She'll warn the Arl later when there was more proof they could go on.
The Arl raised an eyebrow at her half-truth, but didn't press the issue any further. Probably waiting to seek more information in a more private setting. "Well then," he said "It would probably be the best to leave your scout here, just in case."
Val nodded and turned her attention back to the meeting. "The Wardens can't get politically involved here. The last time that happened, we were kicked out of Fereldin. Our duty is first to defend against the Darkspawn. We did send a party into the Dark Roads to investigate, and while we did find a heavy presence of the creatures, we couldn't find any indications that another ArchDemon has been found... There have been recent raids that are signs of a invasion of a horde, and I have directed the silver order and some Wardens to establish themselves in key places. There is a group here today at Redcliffe that will be leaving for Ostagard as a precaution."
"Then what bloody good are you people for?" asked the bewildered Bann Arlind. "No, Arl Hailstrom, I am going to speak my mind on this. We are in danger here and need support. Some unknown enemy is attacking the Kingdom. Revolts are happening around us. The incompetent Warden-Commander is attacked along the roa-"
"Warden-Commander?" asked one of the other Banns.
"For the love of the Maker," remarked the large man. "This woman, this mutant-elf is none other then the Warden-Commander, not some damn representative. She could issue the entire order to come to Redcliffe, if that is that the Wardens even supported her" He turned his attention to her, face red with anger. "Why is it then, if you can't help us, no wait, refuse to help us, that you decide to come here then? to waste our time? Put us in danger of some 'band of assassins' who want you and your kind dead?"
Val clenched her jaw and glared at the Bann. The other Banns looked mortified and uncomfortable, the General though was helping himself to another handful of snacks on the table and watched the exchange with deep interest.
"So do you think you are going to take the old dwarf up on his quest?"
"I don't know yet. Seems simple enough, but also like something pretty dangerous at the same time."
The two men were discussing this as they walked by Zasalim. Apparently nearby, perhaps by the Chanter board, or in the bar, there was one Thorin Ashensheild. A dwarven leader of the mercenary band known as the Sons of thunder. rumor had it that he was looking for people to help him on an adventure. This quest would be to help secure a potential homeland for the growing amount of surface dwarves. these dwarves didn't have a place to call their home, and often spent their time wandering as merchants, smiths, or mercenaries.
Thu May 30, 2013 11:15 pm
- Redcliffe|City Street -
Zasalim's ears perked up as his keen hearing picked up on the peculiar dialogue of the pair of passer's by. The most he garnered from it was the promise of an adventure and the thrill of danger. Just meant a fat coin purse in the end for the trouble either way. His interest in the four legged forest fauna quickly waned as he turned to pursue the call of the coin. He then picked up his pace to stay close to them.
"If he won't take the journey, I'd gladly go in his stead dwarf.. no matter the task" Zasalim chimed in from behind as he started to walk with the gentlemen. "Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but over hear... I am Zasalim of the Quel'Elhan elves, at your service." He said with a slight bow to the dwarf in need of a champion. "If I may, what is this simple yet daunting task?"
Thu Jun 06, 2013 9:34 am
Denerim Estate- Boulder Bill
“If that’s your definition of a hero then I can’t argue haha.”
Bill chuckled at the Dwarf’s response and had to agree with him on a few of his points. Though Bill knew he wasn’t a hero, this was a single case where Bill owed something to Marcus and needed to help him out if he could. However that didn’t mean that he was going to go on a suicide mission, he would help Marcus but if things got too dire there was no telling what Bill would do. He was never to back down from a fight, but that was only when he was fighting for himself. Only time would tell what would happen in that situation.
“I said that don’t need any money… but you can have my share of it, win or lose… however I won’t tell the Teyrn to give it to you until the mission is over…” Bill smiled a bit and then turned to look down at the Dwarf and his goblet.
“There’s only one condition… a simple one… just make sure that no one stabs me in the back.” Bill smiled and took a hold of the drink.
“Deal?” Bill said as he sipped the drink, wincing and grinding his teeth together as he was overwhelmed by the strength of the drink.
Redcliffe Castle- Airi Oakheart
“If the gray wardens cannot forge an alliance, then I suppose that leaves an opening does it not?” a woman’s voice could be heard approaching the war council. She was a slender figure, wearing beautiful robes and jewels that served well to enhance her feminine features. The young woman had a sly looking smile upon her face as she approached the group, her eyes scanning the reactions of everyone present as she walked closer. For a moment the woman’s eyes lingered upon the new warden commander, however she continued shortly after before anyone could speak.
“I am Airi Oakheart of Revas’Thala, representing the Queen, Lady Arlina Winterfest.” She said in a soft voice with a bow towards the Arl. Her eyes were now fully focused upon the Arl and his council members as she continued to speak.
“An alliance would benefit us both, we wish to protect the realm just as anyone else should… joining together would allow this to be achieved much more effectively… our support would help your forces greatly against any threat.” Airi smiled as she looked around the room once more, her eyes again lingering upon the warden commander longer than anyone else.
“The Quel’elhen wish to end our conflict with the Dalish in a peaceful way… if we were to ally ourselves with you, that would provide leverage in coming to an agreement… War is the last thing that we want… it would leave a large portion of the south in chaos and weakened against outside threats… in the worst case scenario it could potentially allow a large force to pass unnoticed.”
Fri Jun 07, 2013 5:31 am
-Valas Delrune, The Whisperer-
Templars. Powerful men with a powerful hand against mages. Mages cower in fear behind feeble spells and powerful spells but bleed just the same when cut. They are weak. They are headstrong. They are arrogant. These were the common thoughts of Veteran Templar Bulwar Bladebar, a strong willed and fiercely loyal servant of his order and a chosen justice dealer sent to hunt mages who have taken to the darker arts.
Whispers and rumors were spreading of a mage covered head to toe in black with a laughing skull for a face and a golden crown made of human bones. Illusions that fooled simple men would not best him. This man was in question by his superiors about a usage of blood magic to create such a powerful illusion, used no more than 3 days ago to frighten off a patrol of guards and a young mage recruit assigned to assist them. It had taken them hours to recover from a fright that left two men vomiting and the mage a bumbling fool, a fellow member of his order had tried to cleanse them of whatever magical ailment but to no effect. That was why he walked to the road now to a nondescript little cave on the outskirts of a small town near Redcliffe.
There was to much talk of war and treason to let these ruffians and turncloaks run free.
There was only one cave that most every villagers referred to now as 'the prophets town', an odd name to be sure considering it was still just a cave, but he went anyways without complaint accompanied by 3 lesser soldiers in his unit. A scrawny twig of a man named Earl Uri, a mountain of a man that stood nearly 7 feet tall named Jack Ironbranch, and a veteran of his unit who went simply by 'Pierce'. The name was given because of the mans crossbow; a heavy piece of oak with strong metal bindings and a powerful bolt launch.
"Alright, listen up." Bulwar motioned to the cave, "There's a mage in there with some kind of blood magic. Standard stuff, just be safe and keep your distance. Pierce?" "Yes sir." "Put a quarrel in his eye if you so much as see his fingers squirm to cast a spell or grab an ingredient. The rest of you fall in behind me." Maybe we can end this without blood or a corpse. Digging graves took time, but it was a courtesy he gave out of honor. No man should be food for the rats. Bulwar wasn't sure they'd avoid it after the rumors.
The cave entrance was dark, so very dark, so black it seemed as if light was an enemy itself to the darkness and was snuffed out before even getting a foot in. Bulwar cleared his throat as Pierce took his position further back, the other two drawing out short swords and iron shields. "This is Templar Bulwar Bla-"
"I know who you are, Templar. I know why you are here." The voice echoed from the cave in an eerie way, making both the two soldiers give a brief shudder. "Bulwar Bladebar. Pierce. Earl Uri. Jack Ironbranch.." Again it echoed from the walls. Walls none could see within the cave. "You would have me surrender willingly. Lay down my magic and swear to come along quietly, like a slave or cow ripe for slaughter. Sorry to... Dissapoint."
TWANG. The crossbow bolt sped past Bulwars helmet into the darkness, with an audible thump.
Bulwar smiled to himself for having brought Pierce. He was a better shot than most. With any luck the mage was dead already.
"How rude..." That mocking voice echoed back from the Darkness. Darkness that was... receeding. Like a flame burning out it seemed to just slink away further and further into the cave, sliding to reveal rocks, a small pool, and... Bones. Bones big and small, child or adult, animal and seemingly alien. At the centre was a small campfire that should have illuminated that cave! and the mysterious 'prophet' of the rumors. The quarrel had not hit him! Bulwar looked back and found out why.
The quarrel was in Pierces eye! How! Bulwar thought, Panic taking root as his breathing grew heavy. The other two had noticed and were starting to shake badly. But it wasn't from the dead man now.
The skeletons in the walls were walking. None had weapons, but all of them were still dangerous. Still a swarm. Bulwar wanted to scream an oath and charge, to yell for help and run, to grab his greatsword from his back and throw himself at the man. His limbs did not obey. On the skeletons came, grabbing the other two and pulling them down. He couldn't turn to look but heard their cries. "Wh-What foul magic is.." Bulwar trailed off as his thoughts returned long enough to remind him of his gift. To null magic.
With an inner shout it erupted like a wave from the Templar, washing over the soldiers and the skeletons in a wave of radiance... Which did nothing at all.
"You have a mighty gift, Ser Bladebar. A gift that makes most mages tremble," The figure strode forward with long deliberate steps, his black robes seemed to.. Writhe. To shift and smoke and leave black wisps behind it. And his hair... The mask. The mask was no grinning skull, it was an eerie thing that filled the Templar with the promise of death and pain. Oh how he wanted to scream out, to deny the fear any hold. He could no more scream than he could run. "I am not most mages. I am an enigma, a rare jewel, the only of my kind, a lone walker of darkest night trying to show the light to fools and cowards. My name is Valas Delrune. You are nothing but a memory," Valas poked a faded finger to the Templars shining breastplate, spreading a string of contaminating shadows that began to eat away the metal. Slowly at first to make a small series of holes of rusted and failing scrap that soon turned to a rain of scrap metal pieces, before long Bulwar was down to nothing but his leathers. Urine stained his pants. "You are nothing to me."
Bulwar Bladebar blinked and suddenly felt very calm and very warm. Panic struck fast as he frantically touched his chest, a chest covered in a shining suit of armor and a greatsword across his back. Deep breathes. Calm down. It's a dream... A dream. He turned to look for Pierce and the others, and found them slumped to the ground trembling and vomiting, a fierce smell wafted from all of them on the wind.
"They'll be fine, I promise." A familiar voice echoed behind him.
The cave was not covered in shadows. It was not filled with skeletons. It wasn't even a cave, really, it was more like a hole someone dug in a hill. The shadowed man sat on a small log near a campfire, with a hunk of meat roasting over the flames and dripping juices. The smell made Bulwars mouth water, until he caught wind of his companions again.
"Care to join me?" Valas waved to a nearby log, the shadowed smoke billowing lightly from his clothes.. his very body. That horrible mask was still covering his face and a golden crown rested atop his head. A crown of golden bones. "The crown isn't real bone, the mask is well steel made to look like a skull. Symbolistic isn't it? Please have a seat."
Burwar didn't remember sitting down or tearing off a chunk of the meat but wasn't really about to say anything. His mind was a jumble of fear, pain, loss, joy, shame, cheer, and many other emotions. He'd barely blurted out the one thing on his mind. "What are you.." In a voice barely more than a whisper.
"A hard truth and a cold lesson. You are a good man, Bulwar. I can see it. You treat your men with dignity and show pride in what you accomplish with them. But you are wrong to enforce who and what must wield power. The power of blood is a double edged sword that cuts the wielder as it cuts an enemy. But there are those who use it wisely to protect and serve the free and the innocent, " Valas rose and held his great staff, both eyes erupting into a flame of blue in the right and purple in the left. The 'laughing skull' he'd seen earlier was the skull atop the staffhead in an iron hand. "Your power would better serve in the war to come. The blood mages may serve if given the chance and your men will not lose respect if you help the realm instead of your order." Bulwar Turned to face the man and couldn't do anything but blink. Blink and be where he had stood not more than a minute ago staring into an empty cave that had not been used in many days. His men still lay on the ground beside him.
"By all that is holy... What have I done.." Escaped the scarred Templars lips as memories of screaming mages filled his mind.
A lone man watched from a different cave on a distant hill. The skull mask hid his smile but not his eyes. Dark black pits that swallowed the light. "The time is coming closer.." He whispered to nothingness, before walking off into the distance to Redcliffe. Never looking back at the broken Templar and his men.
Fri Jun 07, 2013 5:57 am
*Redcliffe, amidst the war council*
The fat Bann was disrespectful and arrogant, not to mention horrendously out of shape and barely worth killing on a battlefield or as prey and yet he had the audacity to talk to Valmyria like she was some commoner with no skill. Val or Arvashok could carve him up on the spot like the pig he was without ever breaking a sweat and yet nobody moved to respond to that cruel jape.
Zha'Gren slowly slid his leather-bound hand behind his back and onto the scimitar hilt at his back, a low growl escaping his lips as he glared at the one who had insulted both his 'commander' and his prey. Only a pleasant smile from Val, given politely as always, took his hand off his sword handle before the guards came forward. None did when he removed his hand but kept a close watch, the Bann was clearly sweating as his eyes met with the eyes of his future murderer. One way or another.
The darkspawn never let his gaze drift from the fat lord, even as the High Elf envoy entered unannouced. He didn't care in the slightest.
Marcus had almost gotten up to shout for Vovin to come back but wisely thought better of it. It wasn't every day that you find out your whole life was a lie and your greatest ally turned out to be your father in disguise, and your 'father' was nothing more than a figurehead for a lie that had shaped his entire life to fit his own selfish whims. Vovin would need time to sort out his feelings and memories before they spoke again. The old forge master instead let out a long drawn out sigh accompanied by the whistle of his fire going out. There in the darkness sat Marcus Hammerstrike, Scourge of his enemies, maker and breaker of legends, Master of the Iron shaper. Despite all his tales of travel and war, he had never laid with another woman. Not before and not after Vovin's mother that day so long ago.
Sleep would cure him, would deliver him from his curse, or so he thought. Sleep held nothing but the memories of his mistake learning to walk and fight without him. It was a cold night for a man who'd forged his whole life in fire.
Sat Jun 08, 2013 12:27 am
“Our target is the Commander of the Grey, what more must we know? Most likely one or two will die taking her down but the job will be done. If the Stone Knight cannot break their resistance upon his armor then they shall give in to true despair in my presence.” Isador inspected the blade of his Axe carefully and decided it was back to a standard he found acceptable. “As for questions for you…no I have none, but I would recommend that you take heed of what I told you….the leaders of the chantry are just people….and all people lie and have darkness inside no matter how well they hide it.”
Teelo watched as the two-leg walked off with his delicious smelling meat and decided to follow him. He was determined to eat that meat and wouldn’t let it out of his sight. The meat-holder approached another and began to speak to him but Teelo merely approached him in his dog form and sniffed the bag that the meat was being held in. Whatever the two-leg was doing did not concern the Forest Child, only the sweet contents of his pouch mattered to the feral boy.
Sat Jun 15, 2013 12:13 am
Glacier wrote:- Redcliffe|City Street -
The armored dwarf turned around and eyed the mage. He looked like most dwarves, short, badly tempered, armed to the teeth. He held himself with an air of royality though, and his dark beard was trimmed short. "Hmm, what do we have here?" he rhetorically asked. "A High Elf... Hmm. That might work."
The human just shock his head and waved the thing off. "I'll see ya around then."
"Well meet, Zasalim of the Quel'Ehlen. I am Thorin Ashensheild, leader of the Sons of Thunder. Yes, you might be able to help me," he looked at the elf for a moment before continuing on. "I am looking for some help to gain land for the surface dwarves. My people are outcasts up here, worst of all, they have no purpose other than fighting and wandering until we die up here. I want something more for them. A home." The dwarf pulled out a map that showed the Frostback Mountains. the detail was pretty good, but out of the mountain chain, there arose a single lonely peak. "Legend has it that there was a thaig located close to the surface here," he continued indicating towards the mountain. "The problem we have though is that the gates are sealed and the only one with the key is the dwarven King of Ozammar. I, nor any of my brethren can return to claim it, but you on the other hand, might. do this for me, help me claim this city for the surface dwarves, and you will be rewarded." Valmyria Windstrider
- Redcliffe Castle
The commander's starting contest with the Bann ended with the elf entering into the play. She muttered a curse under her breath and sat back to listen. She should have expected that the Queen would send an emissary to seek further aid in this problem between the two now distinct and different races. It was a sticky mess to have two groups going after each other like this.
The Arl let out a sigh and brushed a hand through his hair. "Gentlemen, I believe this is a indication that this meeting is over for toda-"
"Over!" interrupted Bann Arlind, "Damn the Maker Drail. You cannot expec-"
"ENOUGH!" shouted the Arl back at the Bann. "I have had it with you. You will show some silence, and some god damn respect or I can show you the bottom of the lake!"
Finally, Arlind sat back in his chair, his ears and face burning with anger, but silent for the moment.
The Arl took a deep breath and turned to the Elven Mage. "Forgive me, Lady Oakheart. Tempers have been running wild as of late under stress." He turned to the rest of the council, and dismissed them. "We'll meet again tomorrow. Lady Oakheart, we can meet in the Great Hall in an hour to further discuss your... objective here. I have other tasks that need to be accomplished." Arl Hailstorm bowed to his guests and exited through the door Airi had just entered through. The two guards followed him out as well as an assistant that immediately began pulling papers out and discussing something with him as they left. The other nobles around the tabel got up and began discussing amongst themselves, and General brewed over the map.
Val was quick to stand up and grab the darkspawn hunter by the shoulder and dragged him away from the table, over to the garden edge that over looked the great lake. "Something is wrong here, and something big is going to happen"
she hissed quietly. "Tell me what you found, and then go find out what you can"
Scrambles wrote:Denerim Estate
The Knight-Captain was about to open his mouth when he heard a bell chime.
DENERIM GROUP: PREPARE TRANSITIONS.
The Teryn stood and cleared his voice. "Gentlemen, I believe it is time to turn in for the night, in the morrow, you will go to Redcliffe and complete this mission." He raised his goblet in a toast. "For Fereldin, For Victory and Honor!"
"For our lives!" came the chorus of his men.
The Teryn chuckled. "Tomorrow," he continued. "You will be traveling to Redcliffe in a very special manner. We do not have the time for horses, instead, we are going to be using a magical gateway that has been prepared here and its sister gate on the opposite side inside of the Redcliffe Castle. Till tomorrow, may you all rest well."
Tue Jun 18, 2013 9:40 pm
Redcliffe | City Street
Zasalim proceeded to walk and listen as the dwarf explained the quest and his peculiar dilemma. While he wasn't privy to the plight of the surface dwarves, he got the gist of it from Sir Ashenshield. Essentially he was going to have to convince the dwarven king to relinquish an ancient heirloom and key to a long lost thaig, then lead a campaign down there to take it back from whatever occupied it now. It was as the human said, "Simple in theory, but a difficult task... even deadly, as any venture into the deep roads would be. I wasn't in any hurry to go charging back into the deeps, but the cause is just and I'm sure the reward will be worthwhile? Even I know that most dwarves that end up here lead lucrative lives as smiths, merchants, and mercenaries." He said in hopes of coaxing more details of his incentive to risk life and limb in the pursuit of this abandoned thaig.
He was at a loss for ideas however, for what accomplishment could he do to prove himself worthy of asking for such an item without rousing suspicion on the acquiescence of such knowledge not privy to a high elf such as he. He remembered the Grey Wardens talking of a proving during the time of the Warden that quailed the last blight, but he had no true political power. He wasn't an envoy of the Queen nor was he a Warrior of the Grey. He was a mere wanderer and a mage at that, though talented as he was. He'd have to see when he got there.
"I just need to make preparations and get a night's rest and I can head back to Orzammar in the morning" he said to the dwarf with his hand outstretched to seal the accord with a handshake.
Wed Jun 19, 2013 5:20 pm
Johnus nodded along to Bill, quite emphatically to the part about getting the money, less so about at the end but...understandably, as for the final clause, he grimaced and made a see-saw motion with a free hand. "I dunno 'bout that, I like you well enough I guess, but I'm not taking any knives for you. So long as you never become more valuable dead than alive, I'll do what I can about keeping your back nice and clean rather than focus on adding to it I suppose." Mostly a bluff to be honest. Johnus wasn't that much of a bastard unless an end of the scales was pulling the entire thing over with gold, plus he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to take Bill out in one go unless the situation was incredibly favourable. Johnus snorted his drink out as he raised his own cup to the cheer. "For your lives." he muttered happily, the expression plummeting at the mention of the magic doorway. "Bloody magic." He hopped off the chair, looking slightly miserable, and stumbled off.
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