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Thread: (M) Age of the Dragon Lords, CH 1: The Door of Night IC.

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    Default (M) Age of the Dragon Lords, CH 1: The Door of Night IC.

    Rated M for possible mature content including sex, violence, language, graphic situations, and drug use.

    CH1: The Door of Night




    In Peace, Vigilance
    In War, Victory
    In Death, Sacrifice

    The Grey Wardens ethos

    2 weeks prior to landing in Endor and a day before they ship out.

    Evening was falling upon Vigil's Keep in the Northeast of the Amaranthine Arling. The ancient fortress has been the base of Ferelden’s Grey Wardens for over two centuries. With the end of the last Blight and the Inquisition, Thedas finally seemed to be on the mend. Darkspawn attacks were less no one was trying to conquer them. Sure small spats and miniature wars still happened, but nothing much that concerned the land at large.

    The Wardens, having rebuilt the Fortress and their Order spent most of their days seeking and training new recruits and ruling the Amaranthine Arling. Though normally neutral in politics, the Arling and Keep were gifts from King Alistair at the end of the Fifth Blight to Rex Cousland the newly dubbed Warden-Commander of Ferelden before King Alistair died killing the Archdemon. The Keep survived many battles and hard times even living through another Darkspawn invasion led by The Architect who was fighting with The Mother for control of the Darkspawn Horde. Rex Cousland dealt with it and while it didn’t free Ferelden of the the monster it did buy a little breathing room for he and the Wardens from Weisshaupt Fortress to hunt down and destroy The Architect and his underlings sending the rest of the monsters far into the Deep Roads.

    It looked to be a full on retreat and the Wardens returned heroes. From then on they were regarded as the noble heroes of yore they once were. But now, two-hundred years after the Blight and four years after the last Darkspawn have been seen in Ferelden, news has come that their peace has come with a price. Upon their shore came Elves seemingly from the Dalish past, tall, beautiful, proud warriors and immortals with powerful magic. But here in Ferelden they were just Elves and that hatred brought them to door of Vigil’s Keep. That was a day ago and in that time the Elves have proven just as noble and wise as anyone else, but their tale is one all too familiar to the Wardens. While none of them have been in a Blight they have fought Darkspawn before and all their records on Blights sets them all on edge.

    They trained and rested and on their second day here their leader Leaurnas has been in conference with Warden-Commander Raziel discussing plans. Many hours had past and a few of the Wardens hung around the Great Hall talking with the Endoran Elves. It was a quiet thoughtful period after their evening meal, some discussions were being had, but most were just waiting on the two leaders to emerge and tell them the plan.






    ***Meanwhile in Endor***

    2 weeks after the meeting of Leaurnas and Raziel

    It was early evening in Endor and the Prancing Pony in Bree was alive with the sounds of lively talk and clanking of tankards and glasses. This has been the home of a group of tired warriors for the last two months. The Wrong were running rampant across Middle-Earth, and the Alliance was wearing itself thin. The King of Gondor has been meeting with Dwarves, various groups of other Men, and even races like Ents. Anyone and everyone he could speak with to help them fight back this new tide of death and destruction.

    But their first and best hope laid in the Elves that left two weeks ago to seek help from aboard. No one has been from the shores of Endor in many millennia. Out there it was the country of the Valar and Eru. Beyond the reckoning of even the Eldest of the Elves, but they had no other hope no help or guidance had a way to combat these endless monstrosities. So paramount was this mission that the Gondoran King had sent some of his best warriors...or at least the few he can spare for a few weeks to escort the Elves and their aid back or bring him speedy news of their failure to find any help.

    He could only spare four, but they were solid and reliable. Two Rogues and two Warriors, Banai Auhl, Enora Daglari, Jagmar One-Eye, and Damina Buck. They've been keeping the Pony open late and quiet all this week, but tomorrow they were expected to be at the Gray Havens to receive the Elves and any helpers after their month long journey. No one was sure of what they come back with, but the general conscientious was giants of some distant land. With weapons and armour emanating Holy Light and shooting off bolts of fire that could incinerate whole companies of these monsters at a time. Hope and desperation do strange things to the minds of those who are holding onto them.

    For now though the four defenders are just trying to drink away the worry in their minds.
    Last edited by SikstaSlathalin; 03-18-2018 at 08:39 PM.


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    Banai took a large gulp of her mead, emptying her glass, then setting it down heavily. With a belly full of steak, potatoes, and three servings of drink she was sated at last. She stifled a burp and leaned back in her chair, pushing her legs out in front of her. The Prancing Pony was full, and looking at the patrons it was hard to believe The Wrong were out there wrecking havoc across the lands. There was too much cheer, too much drink, and too much frivolous talk. Tiring of the noise and the company, she scooted her chair back and rose, making her way across the bar.

    Once outside, she took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of damp earth and leaves. The night was almost full upon them and she wrapped her cloak tighter about her shoulders to keep out the chill as she made her way to the stables. She would check her pony once last time before heading to sleep, making sure he was ready for the ride ahead. She was a short ways off when she heard a distant door open, followed by the quick patter of footsteps. She smiled just before she heard the young voice of Griff, the barkeep's son, call out.

    "Miss Auhl...Miss Auhl...wait up." The boy was panting by the time he reached her side, his big brown eyes looking up at her with excitement. "Can I help wif Mynx? I could bwush him."

    Banai nodded, "Course..." she said, taking the boy's outstretched hand in hers and leading him inside the dimly lit barn. Together they made their way to the shaggy pony's stall and went inside, a soft nickering greeting them both. In short time, Griff was dragging the soft bristled brush through Mynx's thick coat, humming to himself. The boy was only seven, but he had taken to the animal and had assisted in his care since she had arrived. Pulling a comb through his mane now, the boy glanced back at the dwarf and gave her a sad smile.

    "You gonna leaf tomorrow?"

    Banai nodded. "..but don't worry, we'll be back...with others."

    "Udders?"

    She laughed lightly, ruffling his brown curly locks. "Others...not udders. And yes...we'll bring back the elves...with their pointy ears...and hopefully more help too."

    "To kill Wong?"

    "Yes."

    "I gonna fight the Wong too...kill 'em wif my paw's sword."

    She sized him up, using her hand to measure his shorter stature. "Maybe you should wait 'til you're bigger."

    "Naw...gotta kill 'em now afore they get ere." He danced about the stall, stabbing with his arm as he feigned sword fighting. His laughter filled the small space and she couldn't help but laugh with him. "I be wike Miss Auhl...gumpy dwarf. Kill Wong."

    Banai shook her head. "Hopefully you won't have to fight them." She said, putting away the pony's tack while Griff tired himself out with his game. She truly hoped the elves were successful and brought back help--by this time tomorrow she would know. "Come on...I'll take you home," she said, once again taking his small hand in hers. He walked beside her, his eyes looking up at her with admiration. Once she deposited him on his doorstep, she gave him a big hug and slipped a coin into his pocket. "That's from Mynx...he's says thanks for all the rubbing."

    She walked slowly back to the Pony, her hands in her pockets and her heart heavy with worry. The Wrong had to be pushed back and she would do her part or die trying. It was the only possible plan. She sighed heavily..maybe she should reconsider her plan of heading to bed...have a few more meads instead. With that thought in mind, she pushed open the door and slipped back inside, the sight and sounds enveloping her once more.

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    *Zadkiel, the Great Hall, Vigil's Keep*

    Seated in a tall, slightly reclined armchair a white-haired man had his legs kicked out his loose leather pants and quilted doublet glow in the firelight and a big gray Mabari snored lightly besides him. In one hand was a goblet of fine wine while the other hung limply over the side of the chair's arm. Zadkiel has been quiet ever since the Endorans arrived. As a Warden he's been all over Thedas and has seen many strange things, Dragons, Avvar temples, even came across a few Demons summoned by foolish mages. But Elves that looked to be from the Ancient Age and word of Darkspawn in someplace other than Thedas, those claims were pushing the limit of his own suspension of belief.

    But here they both were, the man downed his cup of wine then went to refill it, Barqspawn grunted sensing his master's presence leaving and went to stand up and follow but a quick whistle and wave of Zad's hand made the dog lay back down and roll onto his back quickly dropping back to sleep his long powerful legs kicking lightly as he chased the Dread Wolf away.

    The Constable sighed popping the cork off the rare Antivan wine letting it breath a little before refilling his goblet. Once it was filled to satisfaction he lifted the cup to his lips and sipped it slowly before he looked around him. Most of the other Wardens were still seated in the Great Hall, everyone was eager to learn what the Commander and Endorans' plan was for this distant Blight. Grif and Lavina were closest to him, but he wasn't going to intrude upon their thoughts with his own. So taking his wine he returned to his chair by the fire to think on what going across the sea to an unknown land would be like.



    *Jagmar One-Eye, bar, the Prancing Pony*

    Seated on a slightly taller bar stool watching the front door a golden-haired Dwarf drank long and slow from the tankard of weak Human beer before him. For two months he's been drink this rot waiting for the Elves to return from their desperate mission. Two months of sitting on his arse and waiting, he wanted to be out there doing...something. Hunting bounties or fighting Darkspawn, something that wasn't sitting here.

    Despite being a Dwarf under no true allegiance to the King of Gondor, Jagamr was placed under the man's command by his own lord from the Glittering Caves. He would've much preferred being left alone in his cabin and having only to leave it when something needing killing or someone needed fetching. But there was one who needed fetching, the female Dwarf across the pub from him. Banai Auhl, formally of the Blue Mountains and wanted by her eldest brother to be returned to safety of their lands. Female Dwarves were something of a commodity so whenever one wandered into the light they were usually wrangled back into the caves.

    It was always amusing to hunt down female Dwarves, they're just as much fighters as males, but they can use charm and their bodies to weasel free. It's only worked once on Jagmar and that was early on in his career, since then he keeps them tied up and gags in their mouths. But like him being stuck here waiting he couldn't catch and cash in on Banai's bounty just yet, he couldn't even tell her there was one on her head. The leaders of the Free Races have declared a kind of ceasefire until The Wrong are dealt with, no killing, stealing, or bounty collecting. Granted that didn't stop anyone, but if someone was dumb enough to get caught, they'd be pushed to the front line and fight the monster in their own holes and caves.

    He watched the young woman bounce outside and encounter young Griff, the bar tender's young son. Jagmar hmmed lightly and ordered something stronger to drink. This human stuff was just making his stomach upset without giving him any kind of buzz. The barkeep brought him some strong smelling mead and after a sip Jagmar was content. Banai returned and as an after thought he had the barman send a tankard of mead to the woman. If he couldn't collect her yet maybe he could get to know her and it'd be easier for him to take her in when the time came.


    *Damina, by the fireplace, The Prancing Pony*

    Humming an old Northman tune to herself Damina was seated cross-legged upon a bearskin rug with a warm mug of cider by her knee and a small knife and wooden figurine in her hands. It wasn't often the young woman had time enough to herself to whittle or carve and while she was no where near good at it. She could manage simple shapes and designs.

    Right now she was carving a small soldier to fight the little bear she carved yesterday. She was 28, but even the oldest of warriors have flights of whimsy where they play with toys like a child. She'd probably give them to little Griff or his older sister once she leaves with the Elves tomorrow. Hopefully they'll have help in the form of an army of warriors skilled in killing the Wrong, or at least some kind of plan for killing these hordes.

    Endor has only just rebuilt after the War of the Ring, and she would hate to see two centuries of hard work ruined in a matter of months. Her family has given enough to those monsters to make this war personal, she didn't need another reason to want them gone, but for now she had allies who felt the same so she'd take up the King's cause for now. Maybe she could get word to some of the other Northman Tribes and they can form their own small kingdom within the Kingdom of Man. The Rohirrim have that so why can't the Northmen? But that would be a worry and likely a war for a different time. Right now everyone, from Fednel the bartender and his family to the King of Gondar and his royal court was united against a foe greater and more deadly than anything the people of Middle-Earth have ever faced.

    The girl finished her carving and took a long swig of her cider before picking up the little wooden bear and making him fight the solider who actually turned out to be carved in the shape of a warrior woman. Damina would call her Isladiel and she was going to be the long lost daughter of Isildur and would rule the throne of men as a mighty Queen someday. The idea made the stout young woman giggle like a child as she made her two little figurines fight to the death.


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    “I swear you Fereldans treat brooding like a sport.” The big horned man said as the constable came near. “You should stop; It’s bad for the digestion. You’ll get gassy and if your gassy than you'll get seasick.”

    Grif smirked, he knew his last word drew the focus of his friend. “Come on, we’re Grey Wardens; Even if the old man decides not to help the elves, there will be no stopping volunteers. And we both know you will be the second to do so.”

    “Duty is heavy, it’ll slow you down.” Grif shifted the copy of All This Shit is Weird he was reading and looked up at Zadkiel. “Whereas my curiosity lightens my sense of duty. Think about it, new places to see, new cultures to spy on, and most important of all; Glorious new food to try.”

    Griffin stared off for a moment his imagination running away with sharp cheeses, succulent meats and tasty drinks. His return to reality was followed by a sigh and a bite of cheese. Swallowing the ox-man motioned to the gathered wardens with the book. “They’re all asking the same questions. What will the commander decide? Will we follow the Darkspawn? Can these elves be trusted?”

    “The last question might just be me.” Grif said cocking his head. “I’ll wager even the dead are asking those questions. Not even your dad can keep the Legion from offering volunteers. And once the first black clad dwarf does he’ll have to let us volunteer.”

    Grif leaned back and reopened his book. “So stop brooding. I won't be cleaning up after you.”









    Arawn looked around the table he sat at. There were more of the Legion in the great hall then he’d seen before. They mostly kept to themselves, but today was an important day for them. A day that may return them to their purpose. A nearby voice pulled Arawn’s attention. “No doubt the Warden-Commander is already planning on sending a message to Weisshaupt; Tis only fair I send one to Orzammar.”

    There were nods that met the detachment commanders words. “Afterall the bastards didn't build a boat to reach these knife-ears, that means theres a path somewhere in the Roads.”

    “Aye,” Another Legionary spoke up, “The wardens will be needing our scouts to locate that path. Means the Legion will march again.”

    Those last words were a relief to many of these dwarves, especially Arawn. Without the Darkspawn the Legion of the Dead was just an army; One who only answered to the King of Orzammar. While typically they were put to use fighting the most hated enemies of dwarven kind, the last four years have sat uneasily upon them. With no enemy, they became an army without a purpose. Such armies rarely last, as rulers find themselves uncomfortable with large numbers of soldiers doing nothing.

    For Arawn however the knowledge of where the darkspawn disappeared to was a double blessing. For the others had lives from before they could return to. Arawn had only the Legion, what could a dwarf whose known only fighting do? The grim dwarf started examining his choices again, the conversation nearby restarted itself and so Arawn drifted into his thoughts waiting quietly.
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    Banai had been sitting at the back table for only a few moments when a frothed mead was set before her by a buxom blonde. With a tilt of her head the barmaid pointed to the only other dwarf in the establishment as the purchaser, ole One-Eye. Banai raised the glass and nodded to him, offering him a smile before taking a big swig. He was an odd one, as grumpy as they came, and always sneaking glances her way. Not that she wasn't used to being stared at...but it was the way he looked at her, not as a curiosity, but more like a companion. And she had no plans of being with him in that way, not unless he could crack a smile, luxurious beard or not. She had her standards, and a sense of humor was one of them, dwarf or not.

    And speaking of not, she wondered how Roman Pike was holding out near the front lines without her these past two months. Almost since the beginning of the battle with the Wrong, he had been at her side, the two of them often standing back-to-back...at least as much as allowed, considering his taller man stature...and they were inseparable in war, until now. She had teased him often, claiming his naked face was ugly, reminding her of a plucked chicken, but deeper down, she cared for him like a brother. And she missed him and his silly jokes...his insistence that she share her furs at night because his bed was never warm enough. They often slept together, but not in the way of man and woman, he was way too unattractive for that, but she did keep him warm, both with her furs and her body. She let out a long sigh, taking another swig and enjoying the hint of honey in the brew.

    Banai let her eyes roam over the other patrons, stopping when she saw Damina, another member of her party. She was a good fighter and perhaps Banai could consider her a friend, although they had only become acquainted on this journey. She seemed amiable enough...and in many ways she was very dwarf-like...with her manner and weaponry...and her preference for furs. And Banai did like her furs. Her cloak and outer skirt-like wrap that covered her breaches were fox, and her bedding was made from bear skins. They were warm and durable, and anyone who preferred them was okay in her books.

    Looking away, Banai once again turned her consideration to Jagmar. She would give him one more chance to woo her with his gruff exterior. It was, after all, her last night at the tavern. She called across the crowded room to him in a loud voice, speaking Khuzdul, the dwarf's native tongue. "Join me?" she offered, indicating a vacant seat at her table. Maybe he had another side to him, one that wasn't so dwarfy...as much as she loved her own kind, she had grown to find them almost intolerable with their serious ways and grim expressions. Maybe she could make this one smile.
    Last edited by bluemoon; 03-23-2018 at 02:12 AM.

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    ✧ 𝓛𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓪 The Great Hall, Vigil’s Keep

    They sat in silence, though not an uncomfortable one for the mage, she often found silence more useful then words. Lies fell easily from tongues, but harder was it to deceive with your body. As such Lavinia had never been much for socializing, often found seated with her back to a wall with the best vantage point as she was now. No, it wasn’t the silence that bothered her, but the waiting. She never understood why every discussion took so long. But even as the thoughts crossed her mind another was to voice them.

    Griffin Ataash. A giant of a man, or rather a Qunari. One of the few Lavinia had met, and by far her favorite. A force to be reckoned with in battle and yet he’d never seemed to have lost the sweet innocence of childhood, nor his lust for life. She felt near honor bound to be sure he never did, that he never found himself as hardened, lost or broken as she.

    A small smile cracked her stern façade as he rambled on to the restless Constable.

    Zadkiel Cousland. There was not a man in this world she would intrust her life to before him. The embodiment of honor and duty, even in the face of his adversaries. He instilled a loyalty in all he came across, be it man or beast, if the valiant Barqspawn were needed for further validation.

    Yes, she would go to war for these men, were the calling not already in her blood. But as it was she would settle for going to war with them.

    “If we all know we’re going, why are they still talking?” She murmured the words, one foot reaching out to rub the Mabari’s upturned stomach. Her eyes flicked from Grif to Zadkiel with a small sneer at the Antivan swill he called wine. Then her face calmed and she resumed her survey of the others residing within the Great Hall.



    𝐼𝓃 𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒱𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝒶𝓇, 𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎. 𝐼𝓃 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝒮𝒶𝒸𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒.

    ❇ 𝕰𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖆 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎 The Prancing Pony, Bree

    She stood alone in the small square of barren land between the Inn and stables. A tall blonde in an ill fitted dress, hair loose, red shield on her back, sword drawn. It flashed with every move in the dying light of the sun as she battled against an unseen opponent. Her coming departure had put dent in her routines. Everyday, since the very first, she practiced, though usually after riding Faruq outside the city limits. One practice here had taught her she would not be undisturbed and the men of Bree were not acquainted with being bested by a woman.

    Even as the memory passed her mind one of said men approached. Enora sheathed her blade, smoothly sliding her shield free of her back as she watched him with her cloudy grey eyes. His face was familiar but it took a moment for her to place it. The tavern owner had warned her about him, he’d been spotted lurking outside her room upon several nights.

    A waste of his time really, as the blonde hadn’t spent a night of her own there. Preferring rather to sleep in the stable with her horse, two months in safe territory hadn’t broken her of the need to be near the beast. Nor the wildness of his soul and she’d wanted to be sure the stallion didn’t maim some poor stable hand. He was not nearly as tame as the sweet Mynx who resided with him.

    But now it seemed the stranger had deemed appropriate to make his move. Enora stood a moment considering, then ultimately decided against a confrontation. Humiliating the man would only serve to make things worse in the end. So she turned and headed into the Prancing Pony instead, sliding her shield back into place as she pushed through the door. Then immediately wishing she hadn’t as several pairs of eyes turned her way. She’d forgotten she wore the dress, on loan from the tavern wench while her own clothing was mended for travel tomorrow.

    While a dress itself was not a problem for Enora, she had in fact been born female and spent as much time in one as trousers through her young life. It was the fact that the barmaid was about a foot shorter than the Rohan woman and far more endowed. And though Enora could not boast the same assets, the cut of the dress left little to one’s imagination. With a small wince, she scanned the bar for the woman, hoping to obtain her own clothing and escape the eye of the public and the shadow who’d followed her in.

    Spotting the barmaid serving Mynx’s master, the female dwarf Banai, Enora began weaving her way towards them. Only to have her dart off as Banai invited Jagmar to join her. An interesting development, Enora noted absently as she’d yet to see the two pass more then the occasional greeting despite their shared heritage. But she supposed she was being a little judgemental, after all not all cultures were like her own. Rohan stuck together, it was quite the oddity for one to be on their own as she was now. She made a note to learn more about dwarves as she started off in another direction after the barmaid.

    After turning in a third direction Enora realized the futility of her efforts and opted to wait out the barmaid’s shift. Hearing a soft giggle she glanced over to find she’d woven her way to the fire and Damina, whom she’d once mistaken for a dwarf herself, later coming to learn she was actually a Northman. It had comforted her a little, as the Rohirrim came from the Northmen so very long ago, but that was not what drew her now. Rather the small carved figures she played with, so reminiscent of the ones from her own childhood.

    “How marvellous!” She chirped, seating herself across the tattooed woman.

    𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔡. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯. 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔪.
    ...ǟռɖ աɦɛռ ȶɦɛʏ ɮʀɛǟӄ ʏօʊ, ɨȶ աɨʟʟ ɮɛ ɨռ ȶɦɛ աʀօռɢ քʟǟƈɛ.
    ȶɦɛʏ'ʟʟ ʀɨք օʄʄ ʏօʊʀ աɨռɢֆ ǟռɖ ʄօʀɢɛȶ ǟɮօʊȶ ʏօʊʀ ƈʟǟաֆ...


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    Jagmar expected something like this to happen and at the same time he didn't. He'd seen men try this a number of times and nearly all of them failed miserably, now maybe this was beginner's luck or maybe Banai was eager for male company. He didn't know, but he knew better than to refuse a lady's request especially when he initiated the interaction.

    Taking his mug he nodded to the woman and made his way through the slightly crowded inn. He studied the woman keenly as he approached, a female Dwarf with no beard was a novel sight. While it was a common thing to see the beard in Dwarf lands, he personally never liked the sight, just seemed strange after you spend any length of time outside Dwarf Lands. Elves never grew facial hair, Hobbits rarely did, and female humans never had facial hair.

    He sat beside her giving a tight smile responding with, "Hello Banai, I hope you don't mind, I know this swill can't even begin to compare to our people's drink, but it can be passable with someone to talk with."

    "I have grown quite accustomed to the flavor...don't really remember the brew from home," she stated, emptying half her glass as if in proof of the fact. "It was kind of you to send this over. I thought I would have a few more before I retire." She raised her hand to attract the barmaid and ordered another round, this time on her tab. She looked at him with a devious grin as the next rounds arrived..."You don't really seem the talkative type...or perhaps I've read you wrong?"

    Jagmar emptied his own mug handing it to the woman then shrugged, swirling his new cup around slowly. "No you're mostly right, but this being our last night of peace for a long while seems like as good a time as any to talk. Especially with a fellow Dwarf, it is very rare I meet one up here, as for the drink, I guess I'm just used to the malt beers and rye liquors of the Glittering Caves and Blue Mountains." He took a deep gulp of his drink chuckling. "I've been drinking these every night for nearly two months and have yet to feel them."

    Banai nodded, she had noticed the lack of inebriation also, but she had just thought it was due to a watering down of the drink to stretch the larder. "I agree...but I drink for taste, not to feel the effects." She rubbed a hand across her chin, looking at him in a different light--he had actually laughed. "So you have been to the Blue Mountains?" she asked with curiosity. "Recently? I was wondering if they are still standing...the people, I mean?"

    Jagmar couldn't help but snort a little.
    "These man drinks don't offer much in taste either, but to each their own I guess. As for my travels aye, I was doing some work at the Blue Mountains around four months ago. Before the Gondoran King asked me to the white city and put me here sitting on my hands. Last I knew they were standing strong, they'd collapsed a few of the tunnels that no longer offered any ore or passage and had doubled the guards at every other level. Luckily the Wrong have been forced far to the East, but the bastards can pop up anywhere." He drained his present mug and motioned for two more.

    Banai nodded as he spoke of her home, relief flooding her with the news that her family might be safe. She had not dared go there for fear of being forced to live underground again, her freedom too much a part of her life now to give up. Plus, as part of the resistance she had other responsibilities. Who would have thought that a common thief would become a fighter in an army against the Wrong. It had been so long since she had stolen anything that she wasn't sure she still had the skills. But she had been able to make use of her trap building...she had set many ambushes for the Wrong, slowing down their ranks and giving the warriors time to cut them down. It wasn't much, but it gave her purpose...unlike this part of her journey...sitting in a tavern and waiting for some long-eared thin men to return.

    With the arrival of fresh mead, she downed the remainder of her present glass and handed it over. It seemed a contest was in place between them...and she gave him a wink as she drained this one as well. She had to admit, she was starting to feel the effects of so much drink in her system. She typically didn't consume this much in so short a time. But if he was challenging her, she was up for it...even if it meant falling off her chair in the process.

    Jagmar smiled back and matched the woman gulp for gulp. He let out a slight belch and nodded to Banai.
    "Hmm your turn to buy the round lassie. That is if ye think you can handle it." He wiped his mouth on a napkin and stroked his beard and mustache slowly. "So I've been meaning to ask, how did the Human King get you to sign onto this little fetch quest?"
    ?
    Banai's hand went up calling for another round and when the barmaid arrived, she told her to keep them coming. She then turned to Jagmar with a smirk. "He asked...and I said yes...and I think that is the second smile I have seen on your face since you sat down. Mayhap the drink is affecting your brain?" She lifted an eyebrow, then gave him a pat on the arm. "It suits you. You should do it more often." She pulled out a small pouch from a pocket within her cloak and emptied the contents in her hand. Several opaque stones rested in her palm, the rough cut gems a rainbow of colors. "He also gave me these..." she said with a laugh, "...I think they are what really sealed the deal. How about you...what did you get in return?"

    Jagmar placed his mug down and let out a low whistle as he picked up one of the gems lifting it to the light admiring it.
    "Now these are quite beautiful, be careful though lassie. A greedier Dwarf than me might relieve you of them." He placed the gem back in her hand and returned to his mug. He shrugged at her comment about him smiling. "Mayhaps it is, but still tastes like warm swill, as for my joining this quest I wasn't hired by the King of Gondor so much as paid by my Lord of the Glittering Caves to be at the King's disposal. And the King thought it best I be here."

    "Mmm...lot of good it does us to be here with nothing but drink for entertainment. Better to have sent Hobbits...at least they enjoy doing nothing," she said with a sigh. She slipped the stones back in their pouch...thinking it amusing that he would mention them being stolen. Not so long ago, she would have been that greedy dwarf looking for an easy mark. "Tell me, what occupied your time before all this? My family were miners...my father turning to a life of a merchant when....some things...went sour." She stifled a yawn then picked up her drink, raising her glass to him. "Bottoms up."

    Jagmar matched her drink and let out another belch this one a little louder.
    "Hmm I'm a hunter, folks pay good money for the bounty of the land." He was about to order another round before he heard a solid thud and felt the table shake some. He quickly looked over and saw Banai was passed on the table. The Bounty Hunter chuckled and shook his head leaving some coins on the table before he picked her up and carried her up to her room. She wasn't that heavy, but he was feeling the drink now himself. He had to close one eye to keep moving in a straight direction, but soon he found the room and managed to work the door open without dropping the now snoring Dwarf woman.

    The rooms were classified as "Hobbit" sized so it looked more like a broom closet with a bed and a washbin, but the bed was big enough to be comfortable without wasting space. Keeping his eyes squinted he carried her to the bed and plopped her down before he too fell into it. She rolled to her side and Jagmar was out like a candle after only half way on his own side his front to Banai's back.


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  8. #8
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    As the chill of night settled in, Lyreen decided to go to the local tavern for her nightly drink despite the fact that she really doesn't like socializing. Everyone side eyes her wherever she goes, feeling the ominous eyes that are glued to her person. People had always judged her for using blood magic, but she sees no problems as it makes her a great warden for the cause. She clutched her cloak a little bit tighter and began to enter the tavern.

    As the door swung open, she gave the room a quick glance with a scornful glare. Whispers began to form, people began to stare, and Lyreen just walked up to an empty seat for partake in her drink. She ordered a few drinks while she preoccupied her idle mind with a book about the magics of the Earth and how to embrace this power. Shortly after her drinks arrived, she was approached by an unfamiliar face. "What has a pretty lady like yourself ordering all these drinks?," the man said with a smirk on his face. Lyreen slowly averted her gaze from the book to meet eyes with the man. "Honey, i'm only going to say this once. I'm not your cup of tea and i'd MUCH rather you back the hell away from me," Lyreen scoffed in disgust as the man grew rather annoyed. "No wonder no one likes ya. You're just a bitter woman with no future," the man said as he knocked one of her drinks over, then storming off into the night.

    On that note, she knew it was time for her to part from the tavern in Ferelden. She didn't have the energy to deal with anymore shenanigans that night so she poured the remaining drinks into a leather flask, packed her belonging and began to head for the door.

    As the cool air rushed beyond her face, she made her way back into the heart of the keep to be addressed by the commanders. "This should turn our to be an interesting voyage," she thought to herself as she walked down the gravel road to the keep.
    Last edited by Underblank; 03-27-2018 at 08:53 AM.

  9. #9
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    *Zadkiel*

    Despite the heaviness of the occasion Zad found himself chuckling at the simple soul that was Grif.
    "My digestion is fine ya big ox, but I fear there will be more to this than just saying we're going or not. Word needs to be sent to Weisshaupt, we need to decide how to handle the Arling if we all have to go fight this Blight in Endor, we need to figure out supplies and logistics. According to Leaurnas they're about two weeks away from Ferelden. If something goes wrong we'll be on our own." He hoped his answer would suffice for both Grif and Lavinia's comments.

    He finished his wine again and decided that would be enough for now. He stood up and stretched tall feeling his shoulders and joints click some. The moon was peeking through the high windows of the keep, he hoped his father and the Elf woman would figure things out soon.

    He began to walk slowly from his spot by the fireplace his dog not even bothering to wake up this tie simply flopping over onto his side and snoring rather loudly for a dog his leg kicking a little at Lavinia's belly scratching. Normally he was wary of the Witch of the Wild, but she had her uses sometimes. Zadkiel had selected some salted meat from a serving tray and just took a bite when the door to Raziel's study opened and the tall beautiful Elf exited followed shortly after by the regal stack of muscles that was his father. The Endoran Elves, who had been amusing themselves with the Warden texts on Darkspawn and trying to ignore the Ferelden Elves both City born and former Dalish who were practically swooning over them quickly stood up and moved to their leader's side, just as eager as the Wardens and Legionary Dwarves to hear the news.

    Leaurnas gave her underlings a fond smile and moves to speak with them in their native tongue. Raziel studied his Wardens and Dwarves allies and said simply. "We're going to Endor, but we all cannot go for the sake of keeping Ferelden safe and keeping our Arling from panicking. So this mission will be volunteer only and once you go my friends you will be unable to return until the Endoran Blight is finished. Those wishing to go say aye."

    Zadkiel, Grif, Lavinia, Arawn, and a dozen of his comrades quickly shot their hands up and said as one "AYE." Even Barqspawn lifted his paw and barked in affirmation. The Warden-Commander smiled at them. "Then so be it, those of you going prepare and get some rest you have a very long journey ahead and once you set sail you won't be able to come back because you forgot your favorite cheese knife." He looked at the big Qunari and smirked. "The rest of you go rest as well. With the Darkspawn at least two weeks away from our Deep Roads and after the news becoming known in Orzammar I'm sure the Dwarves will be itching to storm and reclaim as much of the forgotten caverns and tunnels as possible and we will be joining them to secure a little slice of that pie for Amaranthine and fight any Darkspawn stragglers who might be lurking around." He gave everyone a quick salute and dismissed them the Wardens and Legionnaires meandering off to their beds with dreams of danger and riches filling their minds.


    ***Meanwhile in Endor***

    Damina had been so engrossed in her little playtime that she actually jumped and fell over at the sudden appearance of Enora the Rohirrim. Her arms flailed a little and she gave a very out of character squeak dropping her toys. Once she recovered she sighed giving the shieldmaiden a smile.
    "Och naow Enorc dinnae surprise a Northwoman like that lassie. Ye might get yerself hurt." She handed the little carvings over for the Rider to look at. "Aye they are, Ah thank ye fer noticin', me da taught me tae carve as a wee girl. "A lass should always be able tae make somethin' other than babies." He always told me." She chuckled lightly at the memory studying the Rider closely.

    While Damina wouldn't call them friends, it was nice to have another human and a woman at that to talk with. She'd been around men and non-humans so much since the destruction of her clan she'd been getting sick of them both to be honest. Not that she had anything against them and she's had many educational hours learning some techniques from Jagmar and Banai. But when you're almost the last of your kind you like seeing yourself proven wrong in the face of another human. Maybe she'd find a good strong Northman and try to have a clan with him, but that would be for later. Besides the distraction caused by Enora's ill-fitting dress and pretty much exposed womanflesh was keeping the warrior's mind away from men. A warriorwoman shouldn't be dressed so foolishly.

    The girl stood up draining what was left of her cider. She had some clothes Enora could borrow, while she wasn't as burly as Damina they were about the same height and bust size. And they'll be much more respectable than some wenche's dress. "Ah canne stand seein' a Shieldmaiden dressed like that. Come with me lass, Ah have some extra clothes that'll fit ye a sight better." She offered the other woman her hand and soon led her up to her room.


    ***The next day in Ferelden***

    Dawn was just kissing the borders of Amaranthine, but already the docks were bustling with activity. Some the normal morning work for Sailors and traders, but the sight that had brought many whispers and gaping looks was the retinue of Wardens and strange Elves that were gathered around the last set of docks where the three Endroan vessels were moored. They had been repaired and stocked by the Wardens and their Followers with enough food, water, and other supplies to last them the two weeks at sea and a few days on the shores of Endor.

    The selected Wardens and Legionnaires were standing in a loose formation their packs and belongings were neatly stacked besides them. The Warden-Commander was standing before the Endorans looking over his volunteers proudly, he was losing tow big parts of his leadership today. But they were the best to send to fight this foreign Blight. He'd promote some of his Senior Wardens to fill the gaps.
    "My friends, you know I'm not one for big long-winded speeches. But today is a momentous occasion, not only are we establishing a powerful alliance with Endor. But we are also doing what we were created for. Fighting Darkspawn and protecting the world form their filth. I will not say this'll be easy Blights never are, and it is likely some of you might not make it back. But know this our prayers and our spirits go with you. Just remember In Peace, Vigilance, In War, Victory, In Death, Sacrifice." He simply gave them a salute and motioned for them to board.

    As Zadkiel passed the Commander pulled him aside giving the Champion a firm hug. As much as he was Zad's commander he was also his father, and the rest of the family had bid him farewell the night before not wanting to make a scene at the docks. "I am proud of you son, there is so much of our ancestor Rex in you it's like the Maker had brought him back to life and dyed his hair white."

    Zad chuckled embracing his father firmly.
    "Well I would never have looked good with red hair anyway. But I will do both of you proud, be sure to keep mother and Emma from getting sick with worry."

    Now it was Razeil's turn to chuckle letting go of his eldest.
    "I will do my best, but you know how your mother is."

    Zad nodded hefting his gear onto his shoulders.
    "Indeed, like an Archdemon when her children are in danger and a frantic hen when they aren't."

    The Warden-Commander let out a deep laugh and bid his son a tender good bye watching him and the other's board the middle ship with Leaurnas and her four guards. Once everything was ready the ships were let lose and a strong Ferelden wind blew them quickly towards their destiny.

    ***2 weeks later in Endor***

    *Jagmar*

    Jagmar was seated at a bench overlooking the sea a canteen of water in his hand and his pet crow seated on his shoulder eat the bits of bread the Dwarf handed him from the sandwich he was enjoying for breakfast. His good eye was bruised from Banai's early morning reaction to him being asleep next to her.

    He'd never been that drunk before especially not from human drink. His stomach was sour and he could only manage some food for the moment. It was an awkward situation for them both, but at least they were both fully clothed. So there'd be no surprises a few months down the road, they couldn't quite look at one another and after her apologizing for punching him in the eye they haven't shared a single word their entire walk to the docks and the subsequent waiting for the Elves to return with whatever help they had, if any. It was just after dawn and with a squint of his good eye he saw the distant dark shapes of ships on the horizon.
    "About damn time, the Elves are returning!" He announced to the gathered group continuing to work on his breakfast.


    *Damina*

    Bundled up in her bear skin cape Damina was digging into some dried meat and milk her axe was across her back and the wedge and varmbrace it was attached to were placed besides her plate on the table. She'd had a nice time with Enora last night, chatting like old friends and getting to know one another. And the Rohirrim had shown here a few fighting techniques in the style of Rohan, the Northwoman didn't know if she'd ever use the lessons, but she was always happy to learn something knew.

    Besides Enora fit well into Damina's extra furs. And she even let the other girl keep the clothes once her own were repaired and returned this morning. It was the beginning of a friendship and Damina was glad to have it. She was finishing off the last bites of her steak when the Dwarf, Jagmar announced he could see the Elves's ships approaching. It'd be a few hours before they reached the docks, but Damina was looking forward to finally getting back into the war against The Wrong.


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  10. #10
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    Banai was pacing the docks when Jagmar called out. Back and forth...back and forth...an endless pattern that was keeping her mind occupied with the monotony of nothingness. She had been too embarrassed to talk to him all morning...and too grumpy to be polite to the others gathering. With his call, she looked out, squinting, barely making out the ships in the distance. She was surprised that a dwarf with one eye would be able to see better than her, but the proof was there, in the shapes that were slowly drifting closer. There would still be a good amount of time before they arrived, but at least she had something new to stare at. She sat down on the wooden planks and let her booted feet swing beneath her, her legs too short to worry about them getting wet.

    After a short time of staring at the horizon, she grew impatient and made her way towards Jagmar. She didn't speak to him, or even look at him, just sat down on the same bench and scoffed. She put her elbows on her knees, folded her hands together, and rested her chin on top. Humming intermittently, she tapped her toes, then lifted her heels. Almost as quickly as she began, she stopped, looking out towards the ships again.

    "Damn, no closer." She risked a glance this time at the dwarf beside her, wincing when she saw the bruise already shadowing his eye. She frowned, trying her best to look apologetic.

    "Really am sorry...again. Does it hurt?"

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