The Orlesian occupation of Ferelden lasted almost a century, marking a dark period in Thedas.
Vigil's Keep was the first fortress to fall. Twenty years after the invasion began there, Orlais finally sacked the city of Denerim, claiming victory and drove the king into hiding. Though routed, the king now known as "Brandel the Defeated" continued to rebel against the Orlesians... but his efforts have proven inefficient, as most nobles believe that Ferelden is truly lost.
August has just ended and the cold and rain are starting to show, on-and-off, in the southern parts of the continent. The northern half is experiencing only minor changes.
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NOV. 24th Happy belated first month anniversary to us! A few things to be noted. We are currently taking nominations for our first ever site spotlights. The nomination period will be over by the 30th, so feel free to take your time as new members and threads roll in. Just don't forget about them. Secondly, the advertising contest is still going strong, but it slated to wrap up at the end of the month. If you want to earn some extra gold and help promote the site, best to get on that now, while the rewards are higher than usual. Thirdly, the site lottery is still going, and the drawing period will be over Friday. Lastly, we should be getting that multiplayer thread soon. Sorry it's been delayed so long--as you can imagine, I've been busy with single player for Inquisition. Once I'm done, I'll put up the threads and we can hopefully get some games going.
OCT. 19th We're kicking off the site's grand opening with quite a few things to do (besides apply and join, of course ;D). We have an advertising contest going on right now, which will earn new members a ton of gold. You even get ten gold just for advertising for us once. Aside from that, our first ever site lottery is underway, with double the traditional jackpot payout. There might even be a few other things that we've forgotten to mention, but we're sure you can figure those out on your own. ;D As a final note, with DAI's release date being less than a month out (in North America), we're strongly considering organizing multiplayer across the various platforms so IWV members can play together. If that sounds like something that might interest you, keep your eyes peeled for the next little while.
Quinn sat comfortably in an out of the way corner of The Crown and Lion. The inn was populated by quite a few patrons, here to quickly break their fast before heading to work. The assassin, however, took her sweet time. Her leather boots were propped on the table as she leaned back, balancing on two chair legs. In one hand was a half-eaten apple (An Apple a Day Keeps the Healer Away, as the old wives like to say). In her other hand was a quill pen, scribbling away in a notebook nested on her lap. Occasionally, she precariously bent forward to dip her quill into the inkpot on the table.
The tavern wrench was giving her dirty looks for occupying much needed space, but Quinn ignored her. She rented a room here as a base of operations, or an office if you want to get all professional about it, so she had a right to squander her time away sitting in a small corner of the pub room. Besides, she was waiting for someone, even if that someone’s existence may be debatable.
A few days earlier, Quinn had posted a notice on the Chanter’s Board, Merchant’s Board, and all those other little boards which Fereldans seemed to be so fond of. A copy of the transcript stuck out of the corner of her notebook, and it read as follows:
Intimidating Presence Needed
Do people cry and run away when you walk through the door? Do grown men shiver and lay prostrate at your feet out of fear? Can you threaten folk just by staring into their souls eyes while slowly crushing a melon between your palms? If so, then your help is in high demand!
Job should be quick and mostly involves standing and appearing terrifying, but must be willing to shed a little blood if the occasion calls for it. If the mission is successful, profits will be split 50/50, with an estimated yield of at least 25 sovereigns.
Interested parties should come meet me at The Crown and Lion on the 20th of Harvestmere. Look for the short one with good fashion sense.
~Q.V.
Fashion sense, indeed. Quinn had her longcoat on, as the innkeeper was apparently too cheap to light the fire in the frosty autumn morning. Her leathers has been cleaned, and her hair was slicked back carefully without a single stray strand on her face. Appearances are important in the underground. If a flea-bitten hobo dressed in his own beard hair walked up to you and offered to sell sensitive secrets about King Meghren, chances are you wouldn’t believe him.
Quinn sighed as she watched people begin to scuttle away to start their day. Hopefully, somebody actually answered her notice and is just stuck in dog-induced traffic of some sort.
Last Edit: Nov 1, 2014 14:20:14 GMT -5 by Quinn Vilaro
Post by Valkyrie Rase on Nov 2, 2014 2:44:58 GMT -5
One of these days, Valkyrie was going to take a vacation. Somewhere warm and clean and where people didn't look at her like she was a walking abomination. Maybe that last part was hoping for too much, but it was just a pipe dream anyway. Trouble seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and while normally she did not mind the excitement, it could really get old sometimes. Maybe that's why she had decided to try and take on a more...relaxed job for once, or at least she hoped it would be relaxed.
The chill was starting to get to her, seeping through the armor and biting at her skin. Her lips were dried and cracked from the cold air, continuously running her tongue over them to try and keep them as moist as possible. Valkyrie had hoped the inn would provide her some much needed warmth, but as she pushed the door open and ducked under the frame, she wasn't met with the wave of warm air she had been hoping for. It only felt marginally warmer inside, the female standing to her full height again once she was through the door. She could already feel the eyes on her, after all it wasn't like you saw a Qunari everyday, let alone a female one.
At least, that's what everyone kept saying. All she had to do was look in a mirror or some particularly shiny armor and she could admire herself all she wanted.
Valkyrie didn't bother to acknowledge anyone as she trudged a few steps forward, her eyes scanning the area. She was looking for her would-be employer, since if they wanted intimidating it didn't exactly get much scarier than a seven foot five woman with a sword. Her expression was more severe than normal, not terribly fond of the chill or mornings, though that probably just helped sell her even more. The notice hadn't exactly given the best description ever, especially since it could be a bit difficult for her to know what others considered "short". Everyone but other Qunari seemed pretty puny to her in comparison, but she spotted a...well, she couldn't quite tell if the person under the coat was even an adult, to be honest, but they seemed to be the shortest person in the place.
Her footfalls were heavy as she approached, stopping just short of the table as she appraised the person, the close distance not really helping her to distinguish the age (or gender, for that matter) of what she could now tell was a human. "Did you post this?" she asked in her low rasp of a voice as she fished the notice out from the pocket, shoving it in front of their face.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 2, 2014 10:46:24 GMT -5
Well, by the Maker, that must be her woman.
She watched as the massive figure ducked through the small doorframe, her head nearly grazing the ceiling. When Quinn asked for someone scary, she didn’t quite have a hulking, seven feet tall qunari in mind, much less a female one. At best, she was expecting some blacksmith’s son, here to play soldier and show off his bulk. Not that she was complaining, though.
The qunari looked around for a few moments, then locked her sights on Quinn. The information broker felt vaguely honored to be considered the best dressed person in the tavern, though she suspected it had something more to do with her small stature. The well-armed woman stomped in a beeline toward Quinn, making the floor tremble at every step. The patrons of the inn stared, becoming quiet as their heads followed the qunari’s movements. The qunari had a sour look on her face, like she had been sent here to pummel somebody’s eyes out of their sockets. Quinn hoped this was her soon-to-be employee, and not a twisted attempt by the Crows to kill her with a surprise qunari. Quinn wasn’t about to let herself appear fazed though, so she gave the woman a look of perfect nonchalance.
“Did you post this?” The qunari rasped at her, thrusting a piece of paper in Quinn’s face. The Antivan was surprised to hear a perfect Ferelden accent tumble from the woman’s mouth. She was quite obviously Tal-Vashoth, but even those usually have some deviation to their speech when they talk. Quinn quickly glanced at the transcript, confirming it as her own. “Ah, that would be mine.”
Quinn then gave a closer study of the woman now that she was at close range. She was actually a fine sight to behold, with well-toned muscles and curves that can kill a man in ten different ways. Quinn was quite impressed. She strained her neck to peer around the woman’s large frame. “Judging from the amount of people departing this tavern right now, you’re just the woman I need.”
She smiled sunnily and snapped her notebook shut, stowing it away inside her coat. Standing up, the top of Quinn’s head didn’t even reach the qunari’s chest. It was a good thing that she was used to height
differences, though she’s never had to deal with one as drastic as this before.
Quinn extended her hand “Quinn. Quinn Vilaro.”
She noticed the tavern wench approaching rapidly in her direction. “Now, my friend, we can talk on the way to the Merchant’s Quarters. Sophia over there is giving me the evil eye for driving away customers, and I'd like to leave before she decides to slip poison in my ale the next time I have a drink.”
Post by Valkyrie Rase on Nov 8, 2014 3:22:57 GMT -5
The voice had enough of a feminine lilt to it to be discernible, which was a relief. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd feel about working for a kid, though given the youthful features, she woman couldn't have been that old. "Judging by the amount of people leaving, I'd say nobody else showed up," Valkyrie countered, though she didn't sound quite as gruff as before, her tone sounding lighter and almost teasing. Some of her annoyance had melted away now that she had found her would-be employer, who rapidly became her employer. On top of that, the woman seemed fairly nonplussed by her appearance, which wasn't something that happened everyday.
The other female stood up, not even making it to the qunari's sternum, Valkyrie having to crane her neck down to look at the newly introduced Quinn. She slapped her hand into the one offered (perhaps a bit too roughly, though she didn't seem to notice that), giving it a strong shake, though seeming to remember her strength a little better this time so she didn't accidentally pull the poor girls arm out of its socket. "Valkyrie," she replied, not seeing a reason to give out her last name, since most people didn't seem to care anyway. It was a miracle if someone didn't simply refer to her as "Qunari".
Quinn seemed a little distracted, and the swordswoman followed her gaze to spot an older woman marching toward them purposefully. "It's not your fault all her customers are racist cowards," she commented with a slight sneer, the look seemingly enough to make Sophia think twice about going through with her plan. Not that she was opposed to getting out of the tavern, of course, since she didn't particularly like sticking around anywhere she was unwanted for long...at least, not unless she was getting paid for it or was purposefully trying to spite someone.
She was happy to oblige Quinn, allowing her to lead the way, ducking under the door frame again as the biting chill hit her face. "Andraste's tits," she muttered in displeasure under her breath, deciding that she would find someone to make her a proper helmet one of these days. Her horns really could get in the way sometimes. "So, who exactly are we dealing with, anyway? If we're heading to the Merchant's Quarters, I can't imagine it's anyone particularly threatening." Unless they had hired guards, which wasn't unheard of, but it didn't sound like too much fighting was supposed to be involved. It was still better to be prepared anyway, just in case.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 10, 2014 22:12:35 GMT -5
“And that’s just as well. I can’t think of anyone better for this job.” Quinn replied. The qunari seemed to brighten up just a bit, so Quinn relaxed, assuring herself that the Crows weren’t quite desperate enough to start hiring Tal-Vashoth, yet.
The qunari offered her name, and Quinn tilted her head at its unusual sound. “Valkyrie,” She said thoughtfully, playing with the name by adding an exaggerated Antivan roll of the tongue. “If only my mother was as creative in naming her children.”
Valkyrie gave Sophia a look which made the tavern wench pale and take a few steps back. Quinn grinned; she was taking a liking to the qunari already. “Sadly, all of Ferelden seems to be full of racist cowards these days.”
Quinn took the lead, sticking her hands in her coat pockets as the cold air nipped her nose. Valkyrie cursed quietly as she followed, and asked for details about her work.
“Oh, nothing big, just a stout bald man who owes me money.” Quinn said. She wasn’t exactly lying, though half-truths aren’t unusually considered honest either.
“He’s quite harmless, and smells like stale beef. You’ll see when you meet him. A nasty fellow, really. All you need to do is stand behind me and look very angry, as if you want to rip out his liver and eat it before his face. Now thinking though, he’s also quite stupidly stubborn…” Quinn thought for a moment, quickly counted her fingers, and then resumed her lighthearted chatter. “Say, how willing are you to break someone else’s fingers? Now, with your looks it might not come to that, and even if it does I don’t think he’ll last more than two, but anything up to seven might be necessary. Need to leave him three so he can open his safe, though. This wasn’t mentioned in the notice, so it counts as extra. How about fifty silvers per finger?”
If Valkyrie refused, Quinn could always do it herself. But that would probably lead to severed fingers instead of snapped ones, and she always did hate bloodshed in her negotiations. It was too messy, and people’s feelings might get hurt.
They reached the Merchant’s Quarters, bypassing the stall merchants entirely and entering a smaller, more secluded street of private homes. Quinn rapped sharply against the door of a lushly decorated apartment and waited for a response, feeling the blasted Ferelden cold creeping into her bones with every moment she stood outside.
Post by Valkyrie Rase on Nov 19, 2014 1:38:19 GMT -5
Inwardly the woman cringed at Quinn's compliment—if only she knew the truth. The name "Prudence" was both horrible and more likely to make her enemies die from laughter than strike fear into them. It was probably about the ugliest and most unfitting name her mother could have managed to come up with. Only her youngest sibling was spared thanks to their father, who had actually been present for her birth and managed to dissuade his wife from saddling another one of their children with a cringe-worthy name. Of course she didn't mention any of this to the shorter woman, staying quiet and just taking the compliment as is.
Her head bobbed in acknowledgment as the human explained the job more in-depth, though Valkyrie didn't particularly care if the man actually owed money or they were essentially stealing, so long as she got her cut. Well, assuming he wasn't some poor urchin who was being bullied out of his last penny, that would cost extra. To help her cop with the guilty conscious, of course. Nothing quite made her feel better like some strong alcohol and a night at one of the many brothel's in Ferelden.
Violet eyes glanced down at Quinn, looking vaguely amused at the suggestion that she might be squeamish about breaking someone's fingers. She had long ago been desensitize to that sort of thing, having done much more than snap a few phalanges in her time, not that the younger girl would know that. Still, she was used to people assuming she was some sort of ruthless brute. "His mouth will still work just fine with all his fingers broken," she pointed out, rotating her neck slightly to crack it. The cold always made her feel stiff. "Could just open the safe yourself if he's feelin' particularly stubborn today." Though Valkyrie highly doubted anyone would be quite that bullheaded...well, okay, maybe she would be, but the Qunari's pain tolerance seemed to be much higher than the other races.
"And that sounds fair," she nodded slightly at the woman's offer at extra money, though honestly she would've done it for free if she hadn't said anything. The swordswoman wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, more than happy to take Quinn's silver if she was offering it.
As they approached their destination, Valkyrie forced herself to straighten up, her previously lax expression becoming pitched and irritable, like someone had just spent the last hour prodding her with something particularly sharp and unpleasant and she was ready to lash out at the first person that even looked at her wrong.
Last Edit: Nov 19, 2014 1:39:01 GMT -5 by Valkyrie Rase
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 28, 2014 10:29:27 GMT -5
The qunari didn’t have any objections to the idea of snapping a couple of appendages, so Quinn nodded in approval. “True, but it’s not nearly as fun when you can’t watch his face as he opens it himself.” There wasn’t anything inherently amusing in forcing a man with broken fingers to open the lock protecting his life’s savings, but intimidation was important in her line of work. Quinn needed to teach people that they do not mess with assassins.
Valkyrie assumed a satisfyingly pissed expression as they waited for at the door. It finally opened, just a tiny bit, and an elven face peeked out. The elf recognized Quinn, but obviously did not expect an angry horned giant as her companion. “Err, Ser Burswick isn’t here at the moment.”
“He’s off to the brothels this early in the morning?” Quinn look unconvinced. “I want a chat with your boss, dear. Won’t be long.”
The elf shook his head. “I-I can’t let you in, sera.”
“Sure you can—” Quinn started, but he already slammed the door in their faces. Quinn growled in annoyance, turning the doorknob to find it predictably locked.
She traced a hand down the grain of the door. “Hmm, cedar. That’s a softwood, I think. Shouldn’t be hard to break.” She shouted through the door. “Hey, elf, I’d suggest steering clear of the doorway.”
Quinn stepped aside, giving Valkyrie a clear path to the door. She had a mischievous grin plastered all over her face. “Drinks on me, Valkyrie, if you can break this door open with those impressive horns of yours.”
Post by Valkyrie Rase on Nov 29, 2014 18:20:38 GMT -5
Valkyrie's expression didn't even waver when the elf had popped his head out, though she hoped she wasn't about to be strong-arming the male. Elves were so small and fragile looking, it felt entirely unfair to manhandle them, not that she wouldn't do it of course, but it would feel a bit wrong, especially with one that seemed so jumpy. Thankfully though, the elf was just a servant or an underling, so the Qunari doubted she would be breaking any of his fingers. He was, however, particularly unhelpful and becoming a bit of a hindrance, making her warm up to the idea of breaking something if he continued to be so stubborn.
"Soft wood, hard wood, I can break them all," the swordswoman said, offering the shorter woman a cheeky wink. Of course, at the suggestion of using her horns, Valkyrie barked a laugh and shook her head slightly. All that would get her is a concussion and possibly a broken horn, and while she was headstrong she wasn't quite so in the literal sense. It was hard to be intimidating after using your own head as a battering ram and getting knocked out in the process. "You might want'a stand back some as well," she informed her current employer, her posture being a little more relaxed now that no one seemed to be directly watching them.
Her position shifted, leaning back slightly as she raised her right leg and drove the heel of her foot into the wood near the lock, digging her other foot into the ground for balance. The door splintered a little, banging open with enough force to cause it to swing back closed for a second, but with the latch broken it swung again, but when it came back this time the Qunari placed the palm of her hand against it and stepped aside. "After ye," Valkyrie nodded, trying her best to hide how pleased she was and keep her expression severe. Despite herself, the corners of her mouth seemed to twitch upward faintly.
If the elf had been scared before, he was practically beside himself now, practically babbling at them not to hurt him and cowering from the large woman who cast a fairly convincing glare his way. Hopefully he wouldn't cause anymore trouble, seeming to be more afraid of Valkyrie now than his own boss. Mentally the female patted herself on the back, happy to know she could still be as terrifying as she thought.
[Hopefully you don't mind me using the elf NPC a little. I can edit it out if you need me to though u3u]
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 30, 2014 21:02:13 GMT -5
Quinn snickered at Valkyrie’s comment, and watched as she gave a powerful kick to the door, sending pieces of it tumbling through the air. The door swung like a pendulum before the qunari stopped it with her hand. Quinn was undeniably dazzled by the raw strength which rippled through those muscles. Her comment about the horns was made mostly in jest, but she had to admit it would have been quite a sight to see Valkyrie breaking open the door with her head alone.
Quinn nodded and entered, ignoring the whimpering elf completely. The place was lushly furnished, with all the signs of a respectably wealthy household. She climbed the stairs, which led to toward another door, unlocked this time. “Hello, Burswick. I think you know what I’m here for.” Quinn chirped a little too cheerfully as she slammed the door open. The bald, portly man was sitting behind his desk, facing Quinn and Valkyrie with a nervous look and an unearthly pallor. He was obviously expecting them, since the door busting antics were quite loud, but was apparently too stupid or too scared to get out of his chair. The sight of Valkyrie probably didn’t soothe his nerves, either.
His bottom lip quivered and he pointed a trembling finger in Quinn’s direction. “Y-y-you…”
“…What about me? Did I leave my fly undone?” She glanced sarcastically downwards, then back at the man. “You owe me, Burwick. Fifty sovereigns worth of it, I believe.”
A spark of determination suddenly set in the man’s beady little eyes. He stopped his quivering and furrowed his brows instead. He spit out his words like a hissing cat. “I’ll not pay a child killer.”
Quinn’s sunny disposition vanished at the sound of those words. Her expression was cold, even vaguely condescending. She looked at Valkyrie. “Hold him down, will you? Now’s the time for breaking a few fingers.” Quinn then realized that the man’s words weren’t exactly painting a pretty picture of her, so she furrowed her brow and added. “If you want explanations, I’ll give them. Later.”
((Go ahead and use the NPCs all you want. They're for everyone to share XD))
Last Edit: Nov 30, 2014 21:11:03 GMT -5 by Quinn Vilaro
Post by Valkyrie Rase on Dec 3, 2014 20:58:38 GMT -5
Valkyrie followed the smaller female a few paces behind, her footfalls heavy against the wood, which caused them to whine in protest with every step she took up the stairs, hardly paying any attention to the decor. It would have been nice to grow up in a house like this, and not a cramped little cottage where she had to share a room with all her sisters. The Qunari was only grateful her mother had decided to stop at three, having known other children who had to share a bed with seven or more siblings. There was only so much squishing one could do, and on those humid summer nights any sort of contact with another person was practically torture. She had opted to sleep on the floor on more than one occasion.
Her reminiscing ended abruptly when Quinn barged into a room where a rather large, stout man sat, beads of sweat having gathered around his face. Whether he was just naturally a sickening moist person or he was nervous, it was hard to tell, so Valkyrie decided to assume it was a combination of the two as she ducked under the doorframe and entered the room fully, absently resting a hand on the hilt of the sword on her hip threateningly. She glared down at him, her violet eyes remarkably noticeable against her unnaturally dark skin.
She stayed silent, not exactly being paid to talk, and her employer seemed to have that covered anyway. The man was definitely not happy about the intrusion, though she doubted anyone would be pleased about having their door broken down. Still, she didn't think he would be quite this stupid, after all he was outnumbered, and it didn't exactly look like he was much of a fighter. Quinn had warned her he was bullheaded, but even he had to realize this was foolish.
Burwick hissed something out, causing the Qunari to raise an eyebrow, but was otherwise rather indifferent to the whole situation. She was more interested in getting paid than the humans sins, and so long as she didn't have to do any child killing, it didn't really matter to her. Valkyrie had learned not to be picky over the years about who hired her.
Her strong shoulders rolled in a shrug as she started forward, the man suddenly squirming in his seat. "It'd be my pleasure," she said, offering a rather nasty grin as she circled around the desk, ignoring the mans protests and half-threats as her fingers curled around his arms, holding him in place. There wasn't much love loss between her and humans, especially not the wealthy sort, so it was hard for her to garner anything but disdain for the male. "He's not going anywhere now," the swordswoman assured Quinn in a gruff grunt that was mostly for show.
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