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.
All skins coded by Dani, graphics made for them a collaboration between Dani & El.
Dragon Age and all its assets belong to Bioware and EA, we're just borrowing them. Images used for banners are either art from World of Thedas, or found on Zerochan/Google Search - we do not claim to own any of the artwork used. All characters belong to their rightful creators.
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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.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 24, 2014 3:40:36 GMT -5
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"Pfft," Avery spat on the steps of the Amaranthine palace. Bastards. No matter who was in charge, politics always seemed to stay the same. Take over a country and forcibly install a fancy new Orlesian King and nothing changed. At least not anything of substance. Even with the new despot in charge, the Wardens still weren't welcome in Ferelden. It didn't matter that Avery had to dress up in idiot clothing and grit his teeth through a diplomatic speech to some king that allegedly buggered his kingly cousin back in Orlais. The answer was the same, but this time it had even more bullshit for dressing. Things were already unstable enough in Ferelden, and some of the resentment towards the Wardens lingered. Letting them back in the country would just stir the pot.
Of course Meghren was certain to whip out his most grandiloquent words so that he could tell Avery to fuck off while still sounding fancy about it.
"Stir the pot my ass." Avery balled his fist and made for the heart of the city. The more distance he put between himself and the palace, the better. The political aspect of the job still made his ass twitch.
"So what are we going to do now?" One of the Wardens called from behind him as they rounded one of the numerous streets and cut across an alley.
"Ignore him. Ferelden's still getting hammered by darkspawn raids. We'll do our job--we'll just have to dodge the local authority while we do it." Stopping in his tracks for a moment, Avery barked a laugh that came out a lot closer to a scoff. "At least we'll be on our toes. Certainly give the new recruits something to look forward to."
The alley spat them out into the town square, which was a great deal more congested than it had been prior to the council with King Meghren. Throngs clogged every alley and street as far as the eye could see. A hundred different voices called out different obscenities, and loosed the kind of venom Avery was all too familiar with. Amaranthine was being besieged by a riot.
"He's meeting with the Wardens!" The man on the dias shouted, and the crowd jeered. "Are they going to traipse through our country? Are they going to involve themselves again? We know which side they'll back! They bend the knee to their Orlesian masters like any good dog!"
"Andraste's tits." Avery sighed. "Guess that's our cue to leave." Turning back around, The Commander of the Grey found that his entourage had been cut off. A crowd of sympathetic listeners had cut off their exit. Unfortunately, the movement drew attention to the group. Between the armor and the armaments, it didn't take the Fereldans long to put two and two together.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Oct 24, 2014 16:51:21 GMT -5
Quinn watched.
It was a nice day outside, with the sun warming the cool autumn air as she sat on the rooftop of some highborn's estate. Quinn had a nice view of the palace, and a succulent red apple to waste the time away with. She was here for a reason, of course; whispers have been floating about, telling her of Wardens sulking around the area. And from the tone of those whispers, the commonfolk weren't exactly pleased. There could only be one reason Wardens would dare set foot in Fereldan again after their exile, which was to grovel at the Fereldan King's feet to repeal that same action. But Quinn didn't care what the Wardens wanted, she wished to know where. The whereabouts of the Grey Wardens is valuable information.
As she got to the bitter core of her apple, Quinn saw her target exit the door and spit angrily onto the palace steps. Not a refined man, then. Quinn didn't have a lot of dirt on the Commander himself, but she can tell he wasn't exactly raised in luxury just from the way he walked. Even from a distance Quinn could see him towering over his peers, large and intimidating. As the Wardens moved down the street, Quinn casually shoved what remained of her apple down the nobleman's chimney and followed suit, hopping from roof to roof with relative ease thanks to Amaranthine's rather close-knit buildings.
She caught up with the Wardens as they abruptly turned down an alley, and Quinn managed to catch a precious snippet of their conversation.
"...We'll do our job--we'll just have to dodge the local authority while we do it." Hm. Now that's useful to know. Quinn was sure she can find a few interested clients for that snippet of dialogue. But she didn't have time to think about it now, as she can see from her elevation the angry mob waiting for the Wardens as soon as they exit the alleyway. Before she could make up her mind to warn the Wardens or not, the poor sods stepped into the town square to be barraged by a storm of curses. The Fereldans seemed like a pack of mad dogs, snarling at the Wardens as they prepared to pounce. As the crowd surrounded the Wardens and effectively blocked their escape, Quinn finally reached a decision. To the Fade with it, she could use having a couple of Wardens in her debt.
Quinn has temporarily stationed herself in Amaranthine for around three months so far, and she took the pains to map out the nooks and crannies of the city, of the forgotten routes that she can use to flee quickly if the need arose. There was an abandoned side street nearby which led toward the alienage. It was barely wide enough for a man to fit through, and certainly too narrow for an entire mob. Stepping on the precarious edge of the roof so that the Wardens could see her, she shouted over the enraged crowd, hoping her Antivan accent would distinguish her voice over the rest.
"Hey, Warden. With me if you don't want these dog-humpers defiling your fresh corpse." That was enough to attract his attention, right? It was marginally more creative than whatever the rioting mob was screaming, so that should help. Before Quinn could walk further along the rooftop towards the side street, she felt her footing slip on some loose tiles. She used the opportunity to fling some more insults in Antivan at the shoddy worksmanship of Fereldan carpentry before landing more or less safely with an awkard roll of the body. Finding herself in a circle of angry glares reserved only for Warden-sympathisers, it wasn't hard for Quinn to conclude that she was in deep, deep shite.
Last Edit: Oct 24, 2014 19:17:52 GMT -5 by Quinn Vilaro: All these grammatical mistakes, man.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Oct 24, 2014 19:01:06 GMT -5
Amaranthine. Eleri hadn’t been in this city very long. In fact, it was the first full city she’d been in since leaving Val Royeaux. She’d been looking forward to settling down in this place; she was fairly sure she could find some of her extended family here, or at least the elves in this alienage could point her in the right direction to find them. Maybe she could even stay here. If she could find the alienage, that was. She’d been heading toward the town square, hoping that from there, she could find her way to the elven section of town. She was sick of living in the woods and waiting for people she could rob to come by.
It had taken months of stolen goods just to get passage to a large city, and now here she was. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, except that she was happy to be home in a city. The wilderness was no place for her; she had no familiarity with beasts and herbs. People, however, she understood. To be back in her element was refreshing. Finally, no more sleepless nights outside. No more wondering if it would rain. No more wilderness.
She had not counted on it being this crowded today, though. What the heck was going on? She caught some snippets about Wardens, but that meant very little to her. She’d heard about the Grey Wardens, of course. Everyone had. She just didn’t know what they had to do with an angry crowd in the middle of the city. She elbowed her way through the crowd, trying to get through. It wasn’t like they looked any different from templars. Her good mood soured, Eleri had pushed past at least three more people before she heard the preaching of the man on the dais. She looked confused. What had happened here to make these people hate the Wardens so? Well, whatever it was, she didn’t plan on getting involved in it. She wasn’t about to be caught in the middle of a riot.
She turned to leave the square, trying to push back against the congested crowds of people. Instead, she found herself pushed forward by the masses cutting off the group of men in shiny armor. She definitely did not want to be here, and once more pushed toward the back of the crowd, not caring that she was stepping on people’s toes or harshly shoving them aside, frantically trying to get out of the area. She didn’t make it far, and once again found herself trapped in the crowd.
She scanned the large groups of people before she noticed something strange. A woman on a rooftop, addressing the wardens. She also noticed what the woman had been indicating; an escape route. Eleri decided that she’d be leaving that way, no matter what. This time she allowed herself to be moved forward, keeping her eye on the alleyway. She’d make it in, and then…..well at least she’d be away from a bloodthirsty crowd of people.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 24, 2014 19:49:04 GMT -5
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Avery's training snapped in the instant things went south. He was a weapon, tempered by years of training. His first instincts were to shiv the first rioter he saw; slip a blade quietly between his ribs and twist. But he had to shove that back. This wasn't some throw down with the authorities back in Val Royeaux, and this wasn't a darkspawn raid. While he was inclined to defend himself and the Wardens, murdering people left and right wouldn't expedite their return to Ferelden.
"To me!" He whistled sharply and the Wardens all stood back to back as Avery grabbed the nearest rioter, locking them into a sleeper hold as he used them as a meatshield. It tied up his arms for using his bow, but things were too tight to use it, anyway. He'd have to make do with what he had--namely this bastard and the blade tucked at his hip.
Avery's eyes snapped up at the sound of a voice as out of place as his own. And rather than flinging some insult at him, it seemed to offer a way out. Except then it disappeared, skidding off the roof and into the crowd. For half a beat, he thought about leaving her. It'd be easier to get the hell out of dodge when he had a team of Wardens he was used to working with--the kid would be a liability. But the fact that they were, perhaps, the only friendly voice he'd heard since he crossed the border tied his hands.
"Maker's breath." He groaned, pushing his meat shield full force into the crowd with a hard kick. It dispersed it just enough for him to springboard off the man, and flip over to new kid. The handful of Wardens he abandoned followed through, striking the mob with their pommels, bashing them with shields, or hitting them hard with their elbows. They were smart enough to follow suit and not take to entirely violent measures.
"Can you fight?" Avery grunted as he pressed his back against the much shorter... boy? that offered his group a way out earlier. Shit. Now he had a kid to look out for.
In the matter of a few seconds the rest of the Wardens surrounded the small, boyishly dressed woman.
"Alley, five o' clock!" Avery bellowed just loud enough for the group to hear, and the Wardens started pushing that way. It was the path of least resistance, and their most likely way out. There was no telling how long their efforts would work against the violent masses--or how long it would be until the mob found weapons.
((You guys can feel free to throw some stuff their way, if you want. I have no problem with some of the mob having weapons, or some of the people gathered being more competent. It's likely the guards will show up eventually, as well, but that'll probably be later.))
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Oct 24, 2014 21:12:24 GMT -5
Quinn cursed herself for getting involved. What was she thinking, that a bunch of heavily armed men would somehow need her aid against a handful of unwashed commoners? Well, to be fair, it was a lot of unwashed commoners. But still, a barrage of angry fists tend to do little against steel plating. If Quinn just kept her mouth shut, she would be sitting safely on the roof right now, probably enjoying the show. Forget the Wardens, Quinn would be lucky if she can make it out alive at this point.
A man tried to hit her in the face, so Quinn grabbed the rioter's hand, pulled his body downwards, and kneed him in the guts. She then felt something hard and jagged hit her on the side of her head. Feeling a small trickle of blood dribbling down her temple, Quinn realized that the mob was beginning to throw rocks, and she could see a few people holding...Sticks? Pitchforks? She couldn't see clearly because of her height, but the rioters were only getting angrier and as armed as a bunch of civilians can get.
As she began reaching for the dagger slung behind her back, the crowd dispersed around her. Then she watched as the Commander of the Grey jumped over the rioters' heads and landed beside Quinn. Must be nice being tall.
"Can you fight?" The Commander asked, sounding annoyed more than anything.
"More than these peasants can." Quinn replied, openly smirking. She wasn't the best at direct encounters, but Quinn was sure she can hold her own. There was little need for it, however, as the rest of the Wardens formed a human shield around her. Great. Now she owed a favor to the Wardens rather than the other way around.
She had trouble peering over the crowd due to her short stature, but the alley was not too far away now. However, the mob also seemed to notice their intended route of escape; two glowering, burly men blocked the passageway. They had the terrifying height and build of a blacksmith, but the rusty, oversized knives in their hands suggested butchers. Quinn wondered how the guards would allow two overgrown knots of muscle to stroll around the town square with butcher knives in their hands, and so her eyes glanced over the shop sign beside the alley's entrance: King's Meat Shop. The Maker had to be playing some kind of cruel and tasteless joke on both her and these Wardens.
There was no chance that Quinn would ever be able to win against them in a fair fight, but that implied she played fair. Catching one of the butchers off guard, Quinn darted nimbly in front of him and gifted the man with a vicious, unrepentant kick in the crotch before he even registered her presence. As he howled in pain and buckled his knees, Quinn used the chance to slip through the opening into the safety of the alley. The Wardens will have to deal with the other one on their own, because her little "trick" will hardly work again without the element of surprise. While Quinn vaulted over the prostrate form of the injured butcher, she noticed in her peripheral vision a curious sight: an elf, looking quite bewildered and clearly unhappy to be there, pushing her way towards the same alleyway.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Oct 26, 2014 18:48:15 GMT -5
The riot had truly begun now; people glared at the wardens, though not many were bold enough to do more than throw insults and try to hem them in, considering that they wardens had grabbed some of their people and were now using them as a means to deflect attacks. A bolder group of them had started throwing rocks and clumps of dirt at the wardens, along with some overripe fruit and vegetables grabbed from the stands. Eleri struggled to stay upright, overlooked by the much taller humans. Several fights amongst the rioters began breaking out, and the all familiar sound of smashing glass reached her ears.
She worked her way toward the alley fairly quickly, as the crowd seemed to want to go that way, so she didn't have to fight against the tide. By the time she got there, she saw why. The Wardens were heading into the alley, and these people wanted to cut them off or follow. Kicking the legs out from under a rioter who was in her way and stepping over him, Eleri darted toward the only way to freedom. Unfortunately, the way out was guarded by two armed butchers. Great, they'd already reached the weapons stage. A similarly short boy was also caught in between everything, just like she was. Eleri was certainly interested in what she was doing there, and then the….boy? swerved and darted, and a kick to the groin brought one of the large butchers down. The second one seemed to stand in shock for a minute, not quite registering that his friend was down. He was blocking her way into the alley.
She wasn't going to have that, and he had his back to her. She looked down at the ground and scooped up a rock, lobbing it at the back of the large man's head. She had a feeling that this would not be the best situation to draw her knives, and with all these angry humans around, she'd rather not become the object of their interest. Dashing into the alley, she paused to address Quinn.
"You're good. For a human." Eleri managed to get out, her accent much thicker than most; it was very obvious that she was an Orlesian native. She glanced back, wondering what the wardens were doing. "We need to keep moving. Staying here is a bad idea." Eleri said, stating the obvious before she moved further down the alley, not caring if Quinn or the Wardens followed.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 27, 2014 0:00:07 GMT -5
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Avery didn't have time to respond to the kid. He was too busy looking all around him, thinking of a million and one ways he could get out of the situation if knifing people were still on the table. And what part of him wasn't busy with that was busy thanking Andraste's knickers that he wasn't stuck babysitting a completely useless kid. It was bad enough that he'd have to defend his men against a public uprising, one that was brought on because of the off chance that the Wardens would throw their lot in with the King that just told them to get bent. Bringing a kid with no fighting skills into the mix would be a disaster.
He could only hope the kid wasn't lying through their teeth, otherwise he'd probably have to pry them from the angry mob before they got dismembered.
Except that fear didn't last long. Rocks came into the crowd, smashing off of a few of his men. A stray, plum-sized stone smashed against the ribs of his arm, smarting just enough to make him snarl. Whoever said Ferelden was full of backwater bastards was obviously onto something. Was this their idea of justice? Being stoned to death in the streets because of some alleged association?
Fighting unarmed civilians was one thing. Fighting an armed mob was another. And it changed the rules. "Rebuff the rear." He barked in Orlesian. "Leaving is priority. If you need to draw blood, do it!" The Wardens knew what that meant. While Avery wasn't authorizing wanton slaughter, lethal force was allowed, if absolutely necessary, and the Wardens didn't have to bar any holds. Turning to face the back, two of the Wardens brought up their shields and smashed the crowd, forcing them to stagger back. Two others, immediately beside their sword-and-board companions produced their own weapons. One struck out in a wide arc with a staff, cracking bones as the other planted a stiletto in a leg. Nonlethal attacks, all of them. So far.
Taking the lead, the Warden-Commander locked eyes with one of the two butchers. He was ready to throw a knife into one and follow through on the other when the boy darted out, swiftly taking care of half of the pair.
Brandishing his dagger, Avery moved swiftly toward the Butcher, who was quicker than he looked. The larger and more rotund man locked blades with the Warden and looked rather satisfied... until the Warden followed through with a punch to his solar-plexus. Immediately doubling over, the Butcher went into a hacking fit, exposing the back of his skull to Avery, who smashed it with a pommel strike.
"Let's move!' The Commander bellowed, again in Orlesian. Even if they got out of the alley, there was no telling if some of the crowd would be beyond.
((Again, feel free to complicate however you guys want. If you want to sic a platoon of armed peasants on 'em, go ahead.))
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Oct 27, 2014 20:27:01 GMT -5
When she was halfway through the alley, Quinn wondered if she should wait for the Wardens. On one hand, she valued her life quite a bit. On the other hand, establishing contact with Wardens was a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity. Before she could reach a conclusion, however, her own body decided to make her stay awhile.
The rock must have struck her head harder than she realized. As the adrenaline rush wore itself off, her temple began throbbing with an unpleasant intensity. She was also losing more blood than would be safe, so Quinn growled in annoyance and stopped to lean against the wall. Thankfully, the alleyway should be too narrow for the rioters to pass through, not a significant number anyway.
Quinn ran a thumb across the hem of her shirt, muttering an annoyed curse. It was made of fine fabric, one of her favorite pieces from the wardrobe. But she wasn’t going to be seeing her wardrobe any time soon if she didn’t stop the bleeding. Reminding herself to buy a new shirt, Quinn ripped a long strand of cloth off around the hem. She took this chance to observe that she had become quite filthy from the riot, which irritated her. It wasn't easy being immaculate in such a backwater country.
The elf she spotted moments before suddenly ran past, complimenting her before fleeing into the darker reaches of the alley.
“Hey, kid, wait!” She shouted after her, hoping the elf will hear. The alleyway was technically a dead end, with a hidden door leading to the less-than-pleasant sewers. Quinn guessed that it was made for the elven servants, as a faster and more humiliating way to travel from the Alienage to the estates they were to serve in. Well, it wasn’t like the elf was going anywhere.
The Wardens seem to have things under control at the moment, so Quinn quickly found the flask which she had in her pocket. Her special case of Garbolg’s Backcountry Reserve, usually used for those special days when she wanted to get blinding drunk and pass out in the safety of her apartment. It was insane how many back channels she had to go through to get a case of this seized liquor. In this occasion though, it was going to save her life rather than forget it. As she unscrewed the cap, the disgustingly sharp smell of alcohol rose into her face. Quinn briefly considered sipping a small drop to dull the impending pain, but thought against it, seeing as a single drop was enough to make a qunari dizzy. Closing her eyes, she tipped the flask just a tiny bit over her head wound.
“Agh!” She couldn’t help but mutter as the liquor cleansed her wound better than any rubbing alcohol could. “Andraste’s flaming ass, that’s strong.”
After she disinfected the gash on her head, Quinn tightly wound the strip of cloth around her head. The wound wasn’t too serious, the bleeding should be sufficiently staunched, with any luck.
As Quinn tied a solid know behind her head, she saw the Commander and his troops noisily tramp toward her. Her flask was still opened, and the scent of strong alcohol emanated through the air.
“Care for a try?” Quinn quipped cheerfully, offering the Commander her flask. She wondered if it was enough to get drunk off of Garbolg’s smell alone. “Seeing as the next stop would be the wondrous sewers of Amaranthine, I’d suggest you be at least a tad drunk while going through it.”
Post by Eleri Daviau on Oct 28, 2014 0:23:30 GMT -5
Eleri kept on running. Her ears did perk up at the distinct sound of the Orlesian language. The crowd grew angrier, but the alley was narrow and bottlenecked people coming through. The din ended up turning into a roar, with the phrase 'Orlesian dogs!' tossed around. Many of the rioters, deprived of their quarry, turned on each other and the buildings, their anger completely spilling over. Just as she had chucked her rock at one of the other butchers, though, one of the wardens took him down. The rock flew past its intended target and landed somewhere in the alley.
Several determined people clambered over the unconscious bodies of the butchers, chasing after the wardens, as if a group of them would be a match for the armed soldiers. Then again, they weren't thinking. Eleri didn't pause, but kept on moving. She wasn't going to wait around for any of this wanton violence to reach her, hence why she had gone toward the alley in the first place, pausing only to chat with a human. Some of the riot's frenzy must have possessed her to do so; she usually didn't talk to humans unless she was robbing them.
So she didn't pause as the oddly accented human addressed her. She soon found the alley to be a dead end, and a scowling expression crossed her face for a moment. Typical, humans never thought ahead, did they? Now they were stuck in a tiny alley in the middle of a riot. Her more rational side pointed out that though humans were stupid, even they weren't stupid enough to throw away their own lives.
The girl had pointed this alley out for a reason; it was time to find out what trick she had up her sleeve. There had to be a way out of this place, or else that boy really was that stupid. So Eleri started looking over the wall. To high to climb, so that wasn't it. The next thing she thought about were false walls. Perhaps that was the secret here? She started to feel along the wall, feeling for anything out of place.
Last Edit: Oct 28, 2014 0:23:49 GMT -5 by Eleri Daviau
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 28, 2014 16:55:35 GMT -5
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Short-stuff wasn't looking too hot. Between the blood that trickled down the side of the kid's face and the dark, wet patch of hair, it wasn't exactly hard to figure out what happened. He and the Wardens hadn't got over to the kid quick enough--they'd taken a blow to the side of the head. "Great." Here was hoping the kid lived long enough for him to take them to a healer, otherwise he'd be dragging a child's corpse around Amaranthine, and wouldn't that be great for the Warden image?
Fortunately, it wasn't bad enough to prevent the kid from moving, or shouting. Beyond that, Avery didn't have much time to look because he was busy polishing off the butcher.
As soon as the butcher was down, the Commander of the Grey took a gander at the alley and swore in every language he knew. Shit. Dead end. With no visible way out, their options were limited. Scale the walls, which would expose them all to hell, or smash through the back window or door into the butcher's shop and go out the other way.
Why had the kid led them into nothing? Were the kids brains as functional as their sense of balance? That'd explain a lot.
When the kid took a swig from a flask, Avery snorted. Well, no wonder they'd been directed toward a dead end. The kid was soused. Certainly explained why they fell off the roof, too. But before he could order his men (and woman) to smash through the butcher's shop, the kid offered him a swig, and explained that he'd be needing it because of the sewer. Looking down toward the ground, he spotted the manhole he'd missed earlier.
It was definitely viable, and he wouldn't pretend that he hadn't been covered in shit before. Only downside was how vulnerable they'd be as they went down the ladder, and the fact the fewer and fewer Wardens would have to hold the rear against more and more men.
"Thanks." He grabbed the swill and took a long swig, grimacing enough to grit his teeth. It wasn't pleasant, but there was definitely a kick, and he could appreciate that. "Reminds me of the tub brew back in Val Royeaux." It was a Kestrel specialty, and despite all the tweaks made to the recipe, it was never any good. "Alright, Sheridan, get your ass down that hole and do a sweep. The two civs will follow. Terence, Armand, you'll go after them. Genevieve, you're the last. I'll hold things up top until everyone else is down."
Sheridan and Genevieve were the best, respectively, and their orders were critical to the safety of the Wardens and the civilians that had wandered into the mix. Sheridan didn't even hesitate before he pried up the manhole, took a hold of the sides of the ladder, and slid down. In the matter of a few seconds, he gave the all-clear.
((If you guys want, the crowd can rush or whatever. Heck, there could be parkour dudes coming over the sides of the buildings. XD Depends on how long you want the action to continue.))
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Oct 29, 2014 17:05:21 GMT -5
The Commander barked orders at his men. As one of the Wardens began climbing down the unsurprisingly foul sewers, Quinn noticed the quiet sound of feet on tile. Jerking her head upwards, she realized the extent to which these Fereldans hated the Wardens. They were out for the kill here. Terrifying. There were men on the rooftop, armed with hunting bows. One of them already has an arrow notched and aimed at the Commander. Without time to warn him, Quinn lobbed an acid flask at the Fereldan. When it shattered, the man cried out in pain before backing away, his arrow landing uselessly on the ground. She probably blinded and permanently disfigured the man, but Quinn could honestly care less. On the other hand, she was concerned about the fact that she’d just maimed a man in front of a dozen angry witnesses.
Soon, more arrows began to fly, and the fact that the crowd did decide to follow them into the alleyway after all did not help the situation. Hopefully, the sewers would be enough to discourage the peasants. But then again, it wasn't like the commoners smelled that different from their sewage.
When an arrow whistled past her ear, Quinn decided it was a great time to bolt. She quickly clambered down the ladder into the sewers, grimacing at the stench. There was a small walkway, just enough for someone to precarious walk on without falling into the disgusting brew of shit below them. It was also utterly dark, aside from a few gutter openings near the top of the ceiling. Realizing she didn’t have a torch or a map, Quinn nonetheless remained confident that she could find the way to the Alienage. Probably.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Oct 29, 2014 23:31:46 GMT -5
Eleri didn’t have time to ponder the fact that humans saw her as a person, because that in itself was weird to her. She’d been mostly silent this entire time, and had simply wanted out of the now murderous crowd. She could hear shouting, and the voice sounded like it had authority. Whether or not that meant guards, she couldn’t tell. Her common wasn’t exactly very good, and the din of the people all around them drowned out most other sounds.
Her nose wrinkled up at the smell of alcohol. She disliked the stuff, and even now the smell was making her slightly nauseous. Still, looking over at the other non-warden, she supposed it was good for the head wound. The huge man barking orders seemed familiar….and then she caught sight of his face. Those tattoos. Why were they so familiar? And then it clicked.
Now she was doubly sure that these people were idiots; who picked a fight with a man who defied death? Who the divine had to lie about dying to calm the streets of Val Royeaux. Or so she’d heard, as she’d only been a young girl when all that went down. Eleri then noticed the manhole cover and wondered what went on in the strange boy’s head. A sewer was their best escape route? Well that was just peachy. Eleri almost felt a desire to return back to the wilderness. At least she wouldn’t have to go through sewers there.
She was much faster down the ladder than Quinn, choosing to move rather than stand around up in that fray for longer than necessary. She missed the archery showdown; though with several of the rioters also on foot attacking the wardens, more often than not, they were the ones hit by the arrows. The wardens had armor and shields to protect themselves after all. One or two of the ground rioters ended up with arrows in their backs by the civilian archers who had good aim.
The fact that the archers were rapidly running out of ammunition and targets didn’t deter them. They tried to get into the narrow alley, despite it being crowded from the common people trying to push their way into the street, and trying to attack the wardens before the men in armor disappeared into the muck of the sewer. They might be angry, but even they weren’t about to follow the wardens down there. Several people peeled off, intending to head off the armored men when they got out of the sewer. Guys in muck and armor couldn’t be too hard to find, right?
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 30, 2014 3:20:02 GMT -5
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The kid proved his? worth yet again. As Avery was organizing his men, the tiles on the roof slid a bit, and as he was turning around, he got an eyeful of peasants armed with bows. One seemed ready to take a shot at him, but the kid lobbed a glass container of something at the man, which burst open onto his face. Shrieking, the man reeled back, falling off the roof as he clawed madly as his own face.
Acid.
Well, if the Wardens could afford to be seen with a psychotic kid with acid, they could afford to defend themselves. Unhooking the bow from his back, Avery reached back to grab some arrows and arch for the men on the roof before they could get a lucky shot in on him and his men. The first man he saw arching got an arrow in his eye. Unfortunately, that hadn't been Avery's intention, and his instincts had simply taken over. After that, he was a little more mindful about not using overwhelming force, and aiming for shoulders, collarbones, hands and arms, all of which would make using the bow next to impossible. So while these hits were less impressive, they were just as effective in immobilizing the opposition.
Some of the enemy combatants were good enough to hit Avery repeatedly. Fortunately his armor prevented the arrows from sinking into his flesh, though one arrow managed to slip between the seams of his plating and bypass the leather, it was slowed enough to have barely penetrated. Avery pulled it out and discarded it without second thought as he switched back to his blades to deal with the foot soldiers, some of whom had been, and were still being sniped by the more incompetent archers.
By the time he'd switched over to his knives, Terence was gone and Armand was beginning his descent, leaving Genevieve and Avery to face the crowd. Genevieve's staff came in great use. She swung out expertly with wide arcs and quick flourishes to prevent forces from advancing and then followed through on those that made it through the cracks. The few times she couldn't manage, Avery stepped it to smack someone in the jaw with the flat of his blade.
As soon as he was certain enough time had passed for Armand to be down, Avery motioned for Genevieve to go ahead, and took to using another civilian as a meat shield. They deflected the outpour of oncoming blows from the advancing crowd as he lashed out with a blade. Limited in his maneuverability, he didn't manage to hit anyone, but it did keep them back long enough for him to fling his literal bodyguard back out, causing the crowd to stumble back. It served as a distraction just long enough for Avery to slide into the foul depths of the sewer.
"Let's move." He whispered sharply, but kept his eyes to the manhole.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Oct 30, 2014 19:05:04 GMT -5
"Let's move." The Commander whispered as he slid down into the sewer. A generally good idea when being chased by an angry crowd. Thankfully, the crowd did not seem keen on following them down a river of shit.
Quinn assumed the lead, trying to remember the correct route which will lead them away from the crowded town square. No sooner did she take a few steps did Quinn feel something squishy under her boots. Squinting downwards in the darkness, she grimaced as she saw the decaying body of a rat below the sole of her foot.
“Oh dear, if the mage Warden would kindly create a light…source…thing, I’d be very grateful.” Quinn commented as the tip of her boot gingerly pushed the dead rat into the sewage with a resounding plop!
Nevertheless, she continued on in the less-than-ideal lighting condition. “This way should lead to an exit in the eastern area of the Alienage, if that is alright with you. The humans tend not to set foot in there due to the filth, and I doubt the elves would care about a couple of Wardens strolling through their little slum.” Quinn turned to look at the elf, who hasn’t said a thing since their descent. “I assume that would be your destination as well, cariño?”
She turned a bend and continued walking. They should be going eastward now, and in a few more intersections would be the manhole leading to the Alienage. She felt her boots jostle against something again, and this time looked down to see the skeletal body of a dead beggar blocking the path.
“Ugh.” Quinn muttered in distaste, then kicked the remains into the sewage with a similar motion to the rat. But this time there was a splash.
As they resumed their stroll, Quinn realized she hasn’t introduced herself yet. She gave a quick glance backwards. “Name’s Quinn Vilaro, by the way. If you need to dig up some dirt on the highborns around Fereldan, just ask for me.”
Quinn stopped talking when she noticed a slight movement to the left. Snapping her head in that direction, she watched a form in the shadows trying to stay very, very still.
“It seems like we have a little mouse nearby.” She said, lowering her voice so only they can hear.
((Feel free to interpret the last two paragraphs however you like. It could be a homeless dude, an elf, hell, maybe a darkspawn, go wild >:D))
Post by Eleri Daviau on Oct 31, 2014 16:39:43 GMT -5
Eleri had almost considered not stopping once in the sewer. None of these people would care if she fell behind, anyway. Every man for himself had been part of her life for too long. However, she stuck around, mainly because she didn't know her way through the sewer, though it rankled her that she was stuck relying on a shem, of all things. Well, it wasn't like she was going to stick around once they got into the alienage; she'd part ways with them, not like the shem would notice her going at all. She was still surprised that they'd even noticed her presence at all.
With all the wardens down the manhole, and the sewer firmly sealed, the crowd predictably turned on each other. It also didn't help that the city guard, assisted by a few templars, had started doing crowd control and were working on dispersing the riot. Eleri strode ahead, not really minding the dark that much, or really anything squishing underfoot. One couldn't be picky about their escape routes, after all.
Her eyes narrowed and her body tensed as Quinn mentioned that humans stayed out of the alienage due to the filth. "That's right, shem don't care about what we like or care about. Better hope your riot doesn't decide to make an exception." Eleri snarled out, before thinking better of the situation of picking a fight in the middle of a narrow strip of walk way in a sewer.
"No, I just followed a bunch of shem into a sewer for no reason. Are you daft?" Eleri said in a sarcastic manner, even though she obviously had difficultly with common. Though she figured that at least the wardens spoke Orlesian, she didn't know if Quinn did. So it was common because almost everyone spoke that.
Eleri remained in sullen silence after that, though. She simply wondered why there was a full intact skeleton down in the sewer. That didn't seem normal, and she kept a sharp eye out. Eleri didn't have the same courtesy. She didn't see the point in giving it out to people she was sure would probably just call her 'elf' or 'knife ear'.
Now the entire line tensed, probably because the dainty shem saw a rat or something. She talked far too eloquently for Eleri to believe that she was a commoner. She was surprised the person had even considered a sewer as an escape route. The movement happened again, and a terrified elf popped out. Who else would be down there, anyway? He was no older than twelve, so what was he doing down here? Eleri wasn't sure, but she shot him a smile anyway, hoping that he would tell them.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Oct 31, 2014 23:36:51 GMT -5
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What Avery wouldn't give for one of those smelling rags the elite always seemed to have right about now. Yeah, he'd smelt worse. And he'd smelt shit more often than he'd like, but that didn't mean he was immune, or that it was pleasant. Lip curling up into a sneer, the Warden Commander did his best to just... not breathe for long periods of time. He'd learned that breathing through your mouth wasn't a very good solution to the problem. Something that Terence had yet to learn, given the mage's disgusted expression after inhaling a mouthful of air.
"Terence." Avery grunted in response to the kid's suggestion.
Terence knew better than to start up an open flame in the middle of a river of shit. Everyone knew better than that, or else learned fast. So he pulled out the knife he kept with him and heated the top third, creating enough illumination to navigate by. Keeping the heat up top, he extended the handle out to the human that seemed to be a local.
"I could give two fucks 'bout where we come out, as long as it's somewhere safe." The Warden Commander stated, Rivaini-Orlesian accent rumbling up in a raspy baritone. Hell, he didn't even need it to be somewhere safe, as long it is was better than where they come from. Preferably on the edge of town, so he could put as much distance from himself and the people of this shithole as possible. It'd be a long way back to Orlais.
Unfortunately, the elf with them didn't take too kindly to what the human said. And he could understand why, but what she said didn't sit well with him. "If you don't wanna get smacked, you'll pipe down. I'm not gonna get my party killed 'cause the two'a ya wanna bicker 'bout city elf custom." A gentleman would have considered smacking a lady and a child to be untoward. But he wasn't a gentleman. He was a feminist, and if a woman got out of line, she deserved to get hit just as hard as a man did. Especially if it jeopardized his group.
Thankfully, things seemed to settle down after that, which was good news for the migraine that had been threatening to form.
Vilaro? That sounded Antivan. And so did her voice. Even if he hadn't gotten a good gander at her, he knew enough to distinguish an adult woman's voice from a little boy's voice, and it was a lot easier to do so once they were away from the shouting crowd.
"Avery Mondivarius." He wasn't nearly so talkative as the Antivan woman, who seemed chipper despite taking a rock to the head, and despite presently wading through a river of shit. Maybe this was a regular Tuesday for the woman. Or maybe she thought they could be a good connection. Her words after her introduction suggested as much, but what use he'd have for blackmail was beyond him. "Unless you have something good on His Royal Fruitcake, I'll pass." The comings and goings and dirty laundry of nobles weren't exactly his bread and butter.
As they proceeded, a disturbance came from down the sewer. Immediately, the Warden Commander found his bow and had an arrow at the ready. What came out was a slender elven child, which didn't cause him to lower the bow nearly as quickly. Being part of the Kestrels, he knew better than to trust a young face.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 1, 2014 8:03:41 GMT -5
The Warden didn’t seem to have a problem with their exit plan, so Quinn carried on. When the elf snapped at her, she frowned and realized her previous sentences was not exactly worded well. Oh no, Quinn wasn't an elf-bashing supremacist, not her. Especially not when her mentor herself was one. Even Quinn’s living arrangements as of now are neatly concealed in the Alienage, where people never think of searching for a human. So Quinn resumed smiling and held the heated knife higher in the air. “Ah, I didn’t quite mean it like that, my angry Orlesian friend. Spent five years in the Antivan Alienage once; you have to admit, they don’t clean up the streets nearly as nicely in it.”
The Warden snapped at them to shut up. Sadly for him, the more Quinn is threatened the more cheerful she tends to become. She snickered. “Maker’s balls, Commander, you sound like a brothel keeper bullying his whores.” More specifically, he sounded like the brothel keeper she ended up stabbing, but adding that last bit might make it sound too much like a threat. Quinn decided to stem the snide remarks for now, just in case the Warden is true to his word.
The Warden’s name certainly did not sound Orlesian. If anything, Mondivarius seems like it has roots in the Imperium. Strange, though it might explain the strange lilt in his accent which Quinn couldn’t quite identify.
When the concealed form revealed itself to be an elven boy, the Warden immediately readied an arrow and barked at the kid. Quinn appreciated the caution, but had a feeling it wouldn’t sit well with the hotheaded elf lady at their side. The weapon obviously scared the poor child.
Quinn hunkered down, fishing out a red apple which she offered to the kid.Sure, she shived her first man at the age of thirteen, but Quinn doubted the boy would be able to do any harm, even if he tried. “Ignore the angry tall man, love. Now, what’s a sweet thing like you hanging around the sewers for?”
Last Edit: Nov 1, 2014 8:28:32 GMT -5 by Quinn Vilaro
Post by Eleri Daviau on Nov 4, 2014 1:51:10 GMT -5
Light flared from one of the mages, not that Eleri paid much mind to it. Darkness hadn't bothered her for a long time, but it was better to know where to put her feet and not have to find out through trial and error; especially since they were in a sewer. The stench was atrocious, but Eleri stayed strong. After all, all the humans were coping, so she certainly would as well.
She had chosen to stay close enough to their guide, since she felt rather uncomfortable next to the Wardens. Needless to say that their commander scared her the most. She disliked having her back to the group in armor and hoped that they would soon reach their destination and that she could slip off and disappear as quietly and quickly as she could.
Eleri reflected on her outburst; it had been a natural response, especially considering her temperament. Though knowing his reputation cowed her a bit, so she decided to play it safe. She wasn't happy about it, but she'd be less happy and more dead if she pissed off the commander more than was necessary, she assumed.
"Won't happen again….sir." Eleri said, grudgingly in Orlesian. She didn't see the point in speaking common since she was only addressing him and not Quinn.
Eleri simply waved off the apology. She'd have to see it to believe it, and Eleri highly doubted that the….well she wasn't Fereldan, woman was the giving sort. Quinn was her name, apparently. Eleri didn't answer, not thinking that the question applied to her as well.
When the child came from the shadows, The commander still didn't lower his weapon. Eleri frowned, though strangely didn't complain about it. She'd heard so many stories, it wasn't hard to believe that the Warden-Commander had a heart made of ice.
Eleri was not well versed in talking to children, at all. So she was a little bit relieved when Quinn extended the olive branch. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, though. The boy was shaking like a leaf when the weapon was pointed at him, though he seemed to calm down a bit once Quinn started talking to him. She even gave him an apple!
“I’m down here ta find out what was goin’ on in th’ city, since we all heard th’ shouting ‘bout wardens….and all that. Square’s the best place ta start. Guess they was telling th’ truth ‘bout you people being here.” The elf boy said, as he looked over the armor.
“‘nless yer some guards? though I don’t know why ya’d be coming to th’ alienage this way.” He said, nose crinkling at the odor. “‘nyway, what is goin’ on topside?” he asked. His mother had sent him off to find out what had happened and he intended to do so.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Nov 4, 2014 4:10:44 GMT -5
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Of course the elves didn't clean up the streets half as well as anyone else. It went hand in hand with the rampant poverty. Some of the slums in Val Royeaux were almost as bad as the alienage--except they didn't have the walls so high that the sunlight barely touched the place. Came with being poor and even more despised by the government than usual.
"No." Avery rumbled lowly. "I'm protectin' my whores from abusive Johns two seconds away from gettin' 'em a serious case of dead. Big difference, darlin'." Except they weren't his whores. They were his flesh and blood, blood as thick as his own kin. And he was responsible for the lot of them. If anything got between put them at risk, that thing died. No matter what or who it was, or if he died in the process.
"Damn right it won't." Avery affirmed in Orlesian. The sir part was unexpected, but he'd take it as long as it meant the elf would put the aggression on ice. If the Antivan followed suit, they might have a chance at getting through the shit-filled sewers unmolested, which would otherwise be the one dull note of a fantastic evening. A peaceful trek through rivers of piss.
Quinn's next words were enough to bring a joyless smile to the Warden-Commander's face. If she thought this was his angry, she had another thing coming. He was miffed. Exasperated, put out, even. It came with the territory of trekking into a country, cow-towing to a foreign power (when you hated authority and politicians), only to be told 'no'. And then as if the no wasn't bad enough, they were ambushed by peasants that thought they were siding with the asshole, attacked, and were promptly driven into the sewers. Was he supposed to be jumping for joy?
When the kid started talking about the situation, Avery lowered his bow but kept the dagger close at hand. Some children were better liars than he'd ever be.
"Nothin', boy. We were ambushed by a mob that set their minds on thinkin' we were with the King." The wheels in his head slowly turned. While the Wardens wouldn't be likely to return officially for some time, he could potentially undo some of the damage to the organization that had occurred tonight. "But there's five silvers for you an' yours if you get t'tellin' 'em the truth: that we ain't backin' no sides an' got no love of the king. We're here as we always are, doin' our duty." The rest of the talking he'd leave to Quinn. He had nothing in mind except business and being on their way. If the Antivan wanted to dawdle, she had every right to--on her time.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 6, 2014 16:59:45 GMT -5
As the elf and Avery exchanged brief words in Orlesian, Quinn gave herself a reminder that she needed to learn that particular language. Ferelden was quite dull to work in, and Quinn likes to think she’ll gather up the gall to move into Orlais, eventually. The Antivan Crows have a larger presence there than she would like though.
“If the words of an elven urchin can sway public opinion, then I’m the Divine herself.” Quinn commented as she stood back up, the child accepting her offering of peace.
So it was as expected then. The Wardens are still exiled from Ferelden, at least officially. Quinn supposed it was smart for the Wardens to avoid any more political entanglements, seeing how the last one turned out. But with a few underhanded deals here and there, a Warden-backed rebellion would be a win-win situation. The Wardens will be back in business, and with the people’s favor behind them, no less.
Now, where were they? It was either the alcohol or the knock to her head, but Quinn found herself lost. Just a little bit. Luckily, there was the elven child here, so the exit couldn’t be far. Quinn rubbed the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb, trying to relieve the dull headache which was encroaching on her thoughts. Even her patience was beginning to wear thin, what with shit staining her coat with shit and taking a rock on the head and all. Nevertheless, Quinn kept her appearance at dissonant levels of merriment.
“Tell you what, sweetie. Another five silvers if you can lead us out of this forsaken sewer and into the Alienage, eh?” Quinn said, ruffling the child’s hair. “I’m sure the elves would be delighted to see the Wardens paying them a visit.”
The child nodded and took the lead. As they walked, Quinn piped up again. “You know, Ser...Mondivarius,” Quinn hoped her Antivan inflection didn’t mangle his name too much. “With the right promises to the right people, a bit of conflict, and some well-timed, ah, eliminations, I’m sure you can find a welcome in Ferelden again. Tensions are running quite high here, if you haven't noticed. Strike at the right moment and everything will reel in your favor.”
They didn’t need to travel far until he stopped beside the rusting rungs of a ladder. Quinn looked at the bits of sky peeking through the manhole’s cover. It seemed quiet up there, at least.
“Thanks a lot, dear.” Quinn said, fulfilling her promise as she placed a few silvers in his palm. She stood to the side, not quite eager to be the first one breaching the surface. For all Quinn knew, there could be a thousand loaded bows just a few feet above their heads. “Now, who’s first?”
Post by Eleri Daviau on Nov 7, 2014 22:08:03 GMT -5
It burned Eleri to curb her anger because of shem, but she kept her word, even if she wanted to point out that she had simply followed the wardens into the sewers because it seemed like a better plan than sticking around in a riot. Though his reasons got her to give him even more begrudging respect; could fault a man for caring about his people. So she kept her head down and tried not to say anything too rash. While Quinn and Avery handled the child, something of which Eleri had very little experience with, she looked around the tunnel, trying to figure out where they were.
“Is it really safe to trust a...nevermind.” Eleri had almost started a rant before remembering what she’d been told about the Kestrels, some of it blatant exaggerations and some of it not. She decided not to take any more chances with the Warden-Commander, as she would like to survive this entire ordeal. “It only starts with him.” Eleri said in common, annoyed that they couldn’t all speak Orleasian. At least she didn’t sound so awful with that language. Word would spead fast, first through the alienage, and then through the poor of Ferelden. Whether or not they believed the rumor was another thing. If the Wardens didn’t threaten the city again, however, Eleri suspected it would be trusted. Especially if the Wardens kept their word to do their job. Speaking of which…
“Why do they hate the wardens in Ferelden?” Eleri asked in Orlesian, clearly perplexed by the reaction the city had given the group. Eleri ignored Quinn’s commentary, since politics weren’t exactly something she studied at all, and it was meaningless to her. The child lead them to the ladder, and then scurried off to see the city during the riot so he could report back in full. Eleri shook her head. She knew Quinn had been all talk; most shem who were ‘sympathetic’ to the elves plight were. She didn’t say anything, but simply shrugged. Why not her first? She was an elf, so why would any other elf shoot at her?
Eleri just started to climb up the rungs on the ladder, though she wasn’t sure if she could move the manhole cover by herself. She wasn’t exactly a strongman, though she was sure she'd find a solution. Once there, she managed to pry it up a bit. "Looks all clear to me." Eleri said, though she had to catch herself from saying it in Orleasian.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Nov 8, 2014 3:23:54 GMT -5
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Avery snorted. For a human that seemed keen on trading information, she didn't have much sense. "No.." He rumbled. "But elves will listen to an elf better than any. Elves are more willin' t'join than most. An' a child can tell other children. Most children ain't yet learned race. An' a chance that any learn the truth is better than sittin' 'round with a thumb up my arse lettin' the Warden name go into a deeper level'a hell in this country. An' 'sides all that, five silvers ain't much." It wasn't as though he'd thrust a hundred sovereigns on the child, throttled him and told him that he was the sole hope of the Wardens. He didn't expect things to change overnight. Or even for years and years to come, but any change was a welcome one.
Quinn offered to pay the child another five silvers to lead them out. Which… seemed unnecessary to the Warden-Commander. It seemed common sense to him that they simply followed the child back home. He doubted that the elven boy wanted to stay around and spend the afternoon frolicking and splashing in puddles of shit in the dark, dank sewer. Then again, maybe splashing puddles of shit was a favored pastime of the youth in the city and this horrid country. If he was going by the reception he'd got by the mob, that seemed pretty likely.
The Commander of the Grey followed after the elf boy in silence, with the rest of the Wardens trailing after him. There were a few hushed conversations in the group, all of them in Orlesian, and some stifled laughter. Thankfully the group was keeping silent, although it was hard to suppress a laugh of his own when one of the Wardens accused the Fereldens of having… special relations with their Mabari hounds. He just smiled briefly instead, although it didn't last long after the elven woman spoke to him.
"Because some long-dead Warden Commander got involved in politics. She was high-born an' in line for the throne. It's hard t'say if she used the Grey t'fight… tyranny," his lips smacked at the word. "Or for her own ambition or both. Either way, it was a disaster an' we were left holdin' the bag."
It wasn't long after that the Antivan woman spoke and offered a way to neatly end the public opposition to the Wardens.
"Yes. No one will suspect anythin' when scores of Warden-hatin' commoners drop dead." Of course, he knew that wasn't what she was offering. Still, it was hard to sway the public sentiments, even from up top. "Ya aren't the sort I'm keen on rubbin' elbows with. Not when it comes t'my organization's image." While there was a certain appeal to be had in simply killing everyone that opposed them, there'd be a lot dead. And a lot more people that started opposing them after the deaths. He also wasn't in the habit of making promises to politicians. He despised the machinations that came with diplomacy and the Court. A man as low-born as him would get the short end of the stick every time.
And there was no telling who would be in charge tomorrow, and if those promises would cost his crew their lives. Or if they'd be exiled from the country again, or forced to be attack dogs. That was entirely why he wanted to keep the Wardens out of politics beyond some painful ass-kissing of a fruity, cousin-fucking king.
At long last they came to a ladder and Eleri took the lead, calling down that it was clear.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 10, 2014 20:27:22 GMT -5
If the Warden thought ideologically alienating the elves from their human cohabitants was a good idea, then Quinn wasn’t one to stop him. Though in her experience, children learned race all too well. “Back in Antiva, even the urchins threw rocks at the elven children. Just don’t be surprised to see a few elf kids reeling around with black eyes over the next few weeks.”
Mondivarius continued conversing with the elf in Orlesian, so Quinn occupied herself by trying to chat with the other Wardens. They didn’t seem very talkative, with their lips tightly sealed from Quinn’s subtly prying questions. The Wardens kept their secrets well, it seemed.
When the Warden Commander refused her offer of help, Quinn simply shrugged. From what she has seen of Mondivarius so far, he was not exactly the crafty sort. His next remark, however, was just begging to be teased. Quinn bit her lip, trying to hold back the joke that was on her tongue (the man seemed to lack a sense of humor, after all). She finally gave up and snickered, assuming a mockingly evocative roll in her accent. “No, elbows aren’t usually the part that men are keen on rubbing.”
For all the effort she put into refining herself after leaving the slums, Quinn simply could not fix her love of a lewd joke or two. Some old habits die hard, she supposed.
Quinn didn’t quite appreciate the Warden Commander barking orders at her, but she was sharp enough to not argue with a man who towered a foot above her head. The matter was insignificant, anyway. Quinn followed the elf through the manhole, taking a deep breath of fresh, unsullied air as she reached the surface. The insides of her lungs felt covered with shit.
The Alienage appeared peaceful enough. The lack of any angry humans was a good sign, at least. A few elves stared as Wardens began popping out of the manhole, but the heavily armed men seemed little more than distractions to them. Quinn flicked a bit of grime off the shoulder of her coat. She supposed the trip wasn’t a complete waste. Sure, the Wardens seemed less than interested in her services, but she still had the nice little tidbit of information she overheard earlier. That would be enough to make a nice little sum of sovereigns.
“Well, I suppose this is where I leave you. There’s a city gate a bit further east of the street if you’re looking for a quick escape.” Quinn scraped her boots against the ground to get the last bits of shit off their soles. “It was a pleasure, Ser Mondivarius. If you ever change your mind, just ask for me at the Crown and Lion. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a pound of shit to scrub out of my ears.”
Quinn turned heels to leave, but then remembered something and turned back just as quickly. She found the elf, and approached her amiably. The girl didn’t seem to like Quinn very much, but that just goaded her on. Quinn could never resist a good challenge.
“It’s a long way from Orlais, cariño.” Quinn said. From the elf’s accent, her difficulty speaking Common, and seeming lack of knowledge about the city’s layout, Quinn had the creeping suspicion that the elf was quite the greenhorn to Amaranthine. It would certainly explain why she was the only elf to be seen in the town square that day. “If you’re in need of a place to stay, I’d gladly offer board in return for a name, and perhaps a few lessons in speaking Orlesian.”
Quinn wasn’t worried that the elf would rob her in the night. If she tried, Quinn would just have to make sure to hide the body well, and she knew of several places where that could be done.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Nov 12, 2014 18:28:39 GMT -5
Eleri could understand what was said within the hushed conversations, not the completely understood all the references. Plus, it was like listening in on conversations between friends, so she elected not to comment. “Oh.” Eleri said simply, trying to figure it all out. “Tyranny? But...Grey Wardens fight darkspawn. I can’t see how anyone in charge would find a problem with that.” Eleri blurted out. It sounded to her like there was more to the story, and that it had been a huge event in Ferelden.
Considering that it was her home for the foreseeable future, she should be in the know about those sorts of things. “Plus, wouldn’t it be hard to rule a country when you’re constantly having to go off and deal with darkspawn all the time?” She said. While she wasn’t on the up and up with how politics worked beyond the basics, she also knew that there was a lot of scheming and backstabbing involved with the nobility. Too busy waging some sort of secret war against each other to care about their people.
“Not..surprised.” Eleri managed to get out, the words as foreign as ever to her. “Doesn’t mean that word won’t spread.” Eleri said with a shrug, looking pointedly at Quinn. “Not everyone in the alienage is an elf.” She said, with a hint of bitterness to her voice at that. Eleri did have to fight back a laugh and Quinn’s next comment. She was funny, for a shem.
However, soon she was up the ladder and out in the alienage, and felt that she had finally made it to her destination. Now all she had to do was find her cousin…..Elias. Yes, that was his name. The odd group drew a lot of attention, and she hoped that she could spot Elias in this crowd. If only she knew what he looked like. She had assumed that he had features similar to her father’s or that she could simply ask around. With all eyes on the Wardens, and subsequently her, she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject.
Well, it seemed like they were splitting up. Now she could slip away into the alienage, though it was kind of a shame to be departing from the company of people she could hold an entire conversation with. As much as she hated the walls of Val Royeaux, she missed the rest of the alienage.
“I noticed.” Eleri said dryly, visibly noting that the other elves started to shy away from her after she’d spoken. What spooked them, she wondered? Eleri looked at the other woman like she was crazy. “I’m no one’s servant, Shem.” She said, sounding annoyed. Sure, it was just lessons in another language. That would lead to her doing someone else’s charms and bowing every time a human stepped her way.
She had a place to stay….if she could find her cousin, that was. Perhaps she’d try again tomorrow….after tensions were down. “What’s in it for me? I have a place to stay, why choose yours?” Eleri said. She was concerned about herself, above all else. A place to stay was nice, but she certainly couldn’t stay there forever if she even chose to go with Quinn.
After all, once the human got what they wanted, they’d just kick her out. No one wanted to put up with an elf who wasn’t a servant.
Post by Avery Mondivarius on Nov 12, 2014 21:06:01 GMT -5
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Avery snorted. "Are all women in Antiva this contrary? Remind me t'never go there." There was a pause that lasted half a beat before he continued. "If the elves are goin' t'get rocks thrown at 'em either way, then there's nothin' t'be on my conscience, is there?" If Ferelden was already open to violence against innocent elven children, then he doubted that their support of the Wardens could significantly worsen anything. And if it somehow spurned worse violence, then it would only drive more elves to want to leave their deplorable situation and sign up with the Wardens, so either way was a victory for him.
Neverminding the fact that it had already been done and was the boy's choice to begin with. If he wanted to pocket the change and sit on it, fine. Five silvers wasn't much, as he said. If he wanted to tell the truth, then that was his prerogative.
"They was makin' the rounds in a revolution, sweetheart." Avery stated more plainly, although there was still an edge to his voice. "Doesn't exactly endear anyone t'the higher ups." Other than being a bit slow to catch on, the elven woman seemed fine. Certainly less likely to poison everyone. "I imagine she'd'a ruled on high an' left the rest of the Wardens t'do the grunt work. Might be more inclined t'support them." Which wasn't too bad a deal, as far as he was concerned.
"Darlin', I'd sooner lob my arm off than rub anythin' of yours." She'd been nothing but a viper so far. Ungrateful for the protection he and his provided even when they could have left her to the mob, and opportunistic to boot. If she thought that he couldn't see the way she was trying to pry everyone for secrets, or otherwise milk the Wardens out of something, she had another thing coming. "Gettin' stabbed in the back ain't my idea of foreplay." Either literally or figuratively, and she was bound to do one, the other, or both.
The air on the surface was sweet and pleasant, and a welcome relief from the stale foulness of the sewer. Sure, it smelt as bad as any slum, but compared to down there it was a perfume.
The human's departure was only met with silence. Avery was too fixated on getting the shit from the bottom and tops of his boots than listening to the woman, or telling her whichever way he planned on exiting the city. The sooner she was departed, the better off he and his group would be, and the safer for it. One thing was for certain, though, he wasn't going with the eastern gate.
"Watch yourself around her. She'll learn all there is t'learn from you an' bury you the first chance ya inconvenience her." Avery warned in Orlesian and split off from the rest, Wardens in tow as he headed deeper into the alienage. Where he was going or what his purpose was was hard to say, but he was certain not to head anywhere decisive until he was certain the Antivan was long gone.
((I think Avery suspects that Quinn's a Crow. XD Anyway, he's probably out of the thread unless Eleri has something to say to him. It was fun, guys!))
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 15, 2014 14:02:23 GMT -5
The Warden definitely did not like Quinn, but you can’t please everyone. She shrugged off Avery’s retorts with an easy laugh. Some people just cannot take a joke. “Relax, Mondivarius. Not even I am stupid enough to stab a six foot Warden in the back. I happen to enjoy being alive, thank you very much.”
The Wardens simply ignored her as they sauntered off into the bowels of the Alienage. Quinn did briefly contemplate following them, but Mondivarius seemed to have some kind of half-formed idea about her intentions. Any further meddling with them just may give Quinn an arrow in in the guts, and she wasn’t too keen on that notion.
“Whoa there, mi amor. I’m not asking you to empty my chamber pot or change the linens or anything.” The elf was tensing up, looking at Quinn like she just suggested stealing elven babies and selling them to the Imperium. Quinn gestured to her shit-stained clothes. “This isn’t exactly a fine Antivan lady looking for a handmaiden, yes?”
She sighed, unsurprised at the elf’s skepticism. Her mind went over the finer details of this possible arrangement, and she listed them out quickly. “It’s simple. You get a bed, a warm hearth, and help yourself to whatever paltry contents I have stashed in the pantry. I think I left a sack of apples in there two months ago, but I wouldn’t suggest eating two month old apples unless you particularly enjoy consuming maggots. Besides, I’m not there most of the time anyway, so you can go ahead and take the bedchamber, and I’ll set up a cot in the study. Just show me some Orlesian from time to time. You know, ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘go fuck a hurlock’. The usual things. If you find better lodging, just tell me before leaving, I suppose.”
The offer to give the elf the bedroom wasn’t exactly motivated by her altruism. Quinn had a separate lock on the study, and she would rather not have the elf poking through the rather sensitive information she stowed away in there. Quinn could feel the bits of crap beginning to crust in her hair. She badly needed a visit to the bathhouse soon, preferably tonight. She hoped the elf didn’t take too long on making her decisions. “So, how about it? The place isn’t exactly spacious, but I’m sure it will fit two small, elf-sized people.”
Having an elf as a roommate would prove useful. Quinn could use some more information about the Alienage’s movements, since the human nobility are always so lucratively paranoid. And besides, the Orlesian has perked Quinn’s curiosity, and she wished to know more about what the misanthropic elf was doing in Ferelden.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Nov 16, 2014 14:56:29 GMT -5
Eleri simply nodded at his responses, now getting the entire picture. She wasn’t aware that Wardens did anything other than fight Darkspawn, though the presence of Avery in this city was starting to prove her otherwise. They did more than that, didn’t they? Soon they were all going their separate ways, though she ended up with some advice passed her way. “I always do, especially with Shem…..sir.” Eleri added, just in case Avery was offended or something. She watched them go off, and was about to start asking around the alienage for her relatives when Quinn addressed her.
Eleri listened, and frowned at the gesture she made. The proposition was interesting, but it was still just a more lavish place to stay. Eleri wasn’t one to care for the comforts a good home could offer her, having never experienced them. So, she couldn’t say that the invitation was all that great. “Show?” Eleri asked. “You may….want to ask a person who can actually read if that’s what you want.” Eleri stated. She didn’t know what Quinn had meant by that, but had assumed that it would be like the tutoring thing she’d heard about once. For that, Eleri would need to know how to read and write, something she couldn’t do at all.
“That is all? That is your offer?” Eleri said. “Do better.” She said harshly. “You want to learn Orlesian? Then teach me common. And I want pay.” Eleri said. It would seem contradictory for her to demand pay for services, but this was different. This was tit for tat; she got something out of it and so did the Antivan. Everybody wins. “If you don’t like those terms, that’s fine. Shem like you can always find a tutor, I’m sure.” Eleri said, not concealing the bitterness in her voice.
Eleri wasn’t inclined to speak all that much about herself to anyone at all, least of all bubbly Shem people who didn’t seem to take a hint.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 21, 2014 20:53:19 GMT -5
So the elf couldn’t read. Unfortunately, that was to be expected. Quinn simply shrugged. “It would surprise you to know how much information can be gleaned from drunk chatter alone.”
The elf, however, pressed her advantage. Quinn raised an eyebrow at her conditions but smirked nonetheless. “You want me to pay you for living in my apartment?” Quinn chuckled. “I like your attitude, cariño.”
The elf was wrong about the tutor issue, at least. Orlesian teachers were hard to come by in a country they revile as the Land of Dog-lords, and those that can be found are way too snooty and expensive for Quinn to stomach. Besides, she doubted they would be willing to pay a visit into the Alienage. Orlesian secrets were valuable in these parts, with the nobility squabbling amongst themselves to earn the favors of their overlords, and the rebels hungering for any scrap of intelligence which may give them an edge. The elf was an opportunity that Quinn didn’t want to miss, but of course, she wasn’t going to let her know just how valuable Quinn considered her.
“I can teach you Common, that’s a fair trade. I can even teach you to read, if you want.” Quinn cocked her head to the side, sensing another prospect in her mind. “As for pay…well, I wouldn’t be living here if I have bags of coin lying around to spare. But if you can keep me informed of rumors circling around the Alienage, I’d be more than willing to pay you.” Quinn has never really officially employed anyone ever since her flight from Antiva, just the occasional mercenary or two when it seemed appropriate. But the Orlesian had access to the trust of her fellow elves, something which was annoyingly hard to gain for anyone who isn’t an elf.
“Your people are brilliant, you know that? The nobility never suspect the servant in the background to remember their secrets. But I need someone who can approach them for me and listen to their stories. As you can see, they don’t take kindly to…’shems’ poking about their community.” The Alienage elves were already glaring at her for loitering in their streets. Quinn sighed, adding for good measure. “And I promise that if you take the offer, I won’t use any of the information to hurt your kind. Offing a few nobles, sure, but elves…” Quinn faltered for a moment, her pleasant countenance wavering for just an instance. She could never get herself to kill them, ever since that night. It reminded her too much of Maris with a bolt in her heart. Quinn furrowed her brow, looking straight into the Orlesian’s eyes. “…Never.”
“So, have I satisfied your demands, my friend?” Quinn put her smile back on again.
Post by Eleri Daviau on Nov 27, 2014 0:47:19 GMT -5
“I told you….I can stay wherever I like. So just a ‘place to stay’ isn’t a…really great offer.” Eleri said, struggling to find the right words in common. This language was so…different and it was hard to find the equivalent words at times. Eleri shrugged at Quinn’s comment. It didn’t bother her all that much.
Eleri wouldn’t understand the value Quinn placed on politics. Secrets and information, yes. Using them for blackmail; that entire thing she understood. What Eleri didn’t get was politics. Politics had been for the nobility, not commoners and certainly not elves. So to think that she would be considered an asset for that would make no sense to the elven woman. She supposed it was politics that ultimately got her out of the capital, but even then she didn’t care about them all that much.
Eleri shrugged at the offer to read. “I get along just fine without reading. But I would like to know more common words.” Eleri raised and eyebrow at that, and wondered how insane Quinn was. Well, as long as the woman paid her and Eleri got what she wanted, the elf didn’t particularly care.
“That’s right, we don’t.” Eleri said, looking sharply at the Antivan. “Don’t bother with that. All shem are the same, anyway.” Eleri said with another shrug. One day, it would either be Quinn’s skin or hers, and Eleri was certain that any human would rather save their own skin rather than worry about other people’s.
“If you say so.” Eleri said in response, clearly not believing a word Quinn had said. She could fake emotions with the best of them, why wouldn’t a human do the same thing? She wasn’t sure what it was about. To garner sympathy? Trust? Why tell her all of this stuff? Eleri wasn’t sure, but decided that it didn’t matter.
“Yes. Lead the way.” Eleri said, assuming that Quinn would be taking them back to her apartment for whatever reason.
Post by Quinn Vilaro on Nov 28, 2014 18:21:12 GMT -5
“Wonderful.” Quinn said when the elf agreed to her terms. She looked about her surroundings for a moment, trying to locate where they were exactly in the Alienage. The Vhenadahl was to their right, so that means…”This way.”
It wasn’t far, so Quinn shrugged and decided to show the elf the apartment before she runs off to clean the shit off her face. As they walked, she pointed out various landmarks and shops which may prove of use to instinctively fill up the silence. She looked over her shoulder as they entered a slightly crumbling building and began climbing the steps. “You still haven’t given me a name, by the way. Unless you prefer me to call you ‘cariño’ forever. I wouldn’t mind.”
It was four or five flights of stairs up before they reached the top of the building and was confronted by the last door. Quinn produced a key and unlocked it, the thing opening with a weary, slow creak. She stepped inside and turned around, shrugging with a grin. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
It was undeniably cramped, as the door showed way to a tiny kitchen of sorts, if a table, two chairs, and three cupboards counted as a kitchen. To the far side of the entrance was two more doors, the one on the right open and leading to the bedroom, the left one securely locked shut. As small as the apartment was, everything was nearly obsessively clean and organized. A cupboard was half-open, revealing it to be lined not with food, but with dangerously and brightly colored vials ordered neatly by color. As usual, there were a few apples which Quinn set on the table, which in her moments of boredom she had stacked into a precarious pyramid. Pushed in a corner was a weapon rack, lined with rows of daggers, all organized by size, and a couple of crossbows which were hung above it. Other than that, the room was devoid of any other furnishings, and looked nearly uninhabited. A window to the left side of the room showed a rooftop view of the Alienage.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Quinn said, searching for the extra key she was supposed to have. She found it and offered it to the elf. “Just don’t drink anything from the pantry.”
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