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[Gilgamesh1138]

Yes, macaroons count as a distraction. LOVE this Slim. Shale is a hoot. Nicely done with the dream and Bryce. Then Niall, then Mouse gets pissed. Love this!

Today as a run around and don't get to read this day.  So I finally got to sit back and relax with the Drez.  A glass of mead and thou, Drez.. Ah!:wub::wub:

Modifié par Gilgamesh1138, 19 juin 2010 - 12:16 .

[hardscrable]

Slim liked the shady dream sequence niall /mouse delightful read

thank you for the next chapter....soon

[westiex9]

Okay firstly this was awesome! Secondly im starting to Wonder just what Drezdin plans to do when he gets to the Landsmeet( is he plotting to seize the throne, this is so cool!)



Keep up the Awesome work Slim, How you managed to write this with so many distractions ill never know!

[Slim Warden]

  (Chapter 15: What Is Found Within The Ash)
 
  
  Drezdin found that time seemed to pass with the tenacity of a sick goose when traveling,  the tedious expanse of two days spent traversing the many side roads that rimmed the edge of the Bannorn‘s plains, and the nights spent in caution with the presumption that one of the Regent’s patrols could accidentally stumble upon the Group’s inconspicuous campsites.
 
  But it was the trails  that seemed to boil travel down to a slow battle of atrocious, the paths of the southern provinces known to be moist and loose during the fall season, and that presumption held true as Shale hulled the Bodahn’s wagon by a set of ropes held in the Golem’s stone grasp.
 
  The Cousland led the group as usual at the front, the ringing of his Companions’ idle conversations seemed to stop as they crossed through a small woodland road into the Bannorns southern edge, the land that was the foundation of Fereldan’s main populace playing residence to Arls , Banns and peasants.
 
  But it was an uneasy feeling that brought the banter to a stop as the earth beneath seemed to harden like granite, and the sky was plagued by plumes of smoke that swirled like the dying whisper of a profit.
 
  Drezdin sighed in anguish as they marched through the now desolate field, the sight of a ruined town greeting them from a distance, a sudden if not subtle haste was put to the Group’s step as they neared the town, the only sign of life was the calls of crows that had perched themselves upon the corpses of the dead livestock that surrounded the village.
 
  A troubling silence echoing as they entered the heart of the settlement, many of its homes had been burnt down while what ruined structures remained were decorated with the slain bodies of men, a taint had scorched this land, retreating back to whence it came once finished.
 
  Leliana’s face fell with a somber look as she fully realized the destruction that befell this town, Alistair who was equally disturbed studied the map they had “borrowed” from Arl Eamon’s study, “according to the map this is Tivoli, or was Tivoli at least” spoke Alistair a sinking tone to his voice, “quaint” spitefully spoke Drezdin as he studied the gashes that scarred a post on what could’ve been an Inn’s porch, the town a grim taste of what could fall Fereldan.
 
  Morrigan studied the surroundings with a raised eyebrow and a more critical eye than the rest, “ ’tis a safe assumption that Darkspawn are to blame for the sack of this hamlet” spoke Morrigan in a very dark tone as she looked at the destruction seemingly under impressed as Caesar stood near his master with a uncomfortable posture as the Mabari familiarized itself with the environment.
 
  “Well it wasn’t a pack of rabid rabbits was it?” in a nonchalant posture replied Drezdin glancing back at his Companions, “but how could this happen, if the Regent has sent out patrols  this should not have happened, no?” asked a perplexed Leliana as Zevran who was leaning upon Bodahn’s wagon spoke, “they might’ve been on a brunch break” remarked the Antivan with a grin as Bodahn was double taking constantly in a uncomfortable fashion while Sandal just gazed off in the distance.
 
  The odors of the derelict town grew ever more pungent within the town, even as  Morrigan  took a shot at answering the Former Bard‘s question, “the Country is in a state of  civil war ‘tis it not?  It is not unethical that this Logaihn’s forces were given new orders” spoke Morrigan in a very self assured voice, “leaving the land open to the Blight, lovely just lovely” spoke Drezdin as he sighed, disappointed in the situation.
 
  “Well we should not dally here, we should get moving” spoke Sten slightly annoyed by the distraction of Tivoli’s ruined infrastructures, “sure, lets not search the town for supplies” sarcastically spoke Drezdin as he crossed his arms, “well um, shouldn’t we look for survivors as well?” asked Alistair as the Cousland took a good look at the bedlam that was Tivoli, “you know as well as I that the Darkspawn leave none alive” replied Drezdin in a somber tone.
 
  The taste of the air filled thick with a sorrow that filled the lungs as he walked over and pried open the doors of Tivoli’s Inn, all the while his Companions spread about the town, and what he would find in the Inn would make the situation all the more grim, for a  Cousland.
 
  ******()******
 
  There was a creak to the Tavern’s floor as Drezdin took his first step into the Pub that was filled with the visages of Gore, bodies that where hacked to near nonexistence, one was even skinned to the bone left upon the counter.
 
  Caesar who had followed Drezdin into battered confine his step morose as the Hound maneuvered around the many dead souls that laid upon the floor panels, the Cousland stepped slowly into the rooms center point as he investigated every broken glass to the many wrecked tables that decorated the room.
 
  The eery creaks of the Inn’s structure seemed to be nothing more than a incoherent presence with every step Drezdin took, the death that scarred this room was a far cry from the joy that once must’ve filled the air that now stank of death.
 
  But it was the odd whimper of Caesar that piqued Drezdin’s interest the most, the Mabari war hound obsessively pawing at one of the butchered bodies that laid face down as if to flip it over, “Caesar I hope you’re disturbing the dead for a reason” spoke Drezdin as he approached the hound, and it was with a loss of breath that Drezdin noticed the pommel of the sword that laid under the corpse.
 
  The pommel was decorated with the emblem of Drezdin’s  very bloodline, the Cousland flipping over the body in a respectful motion causing  Caesar to move aside as Drezdin desired to see the face of the sword’s owner, the cold eyes that returned Drezdin’s searching eyes were unfamiliar, but the sheathed blade was as familiar as the light of day, it was his brother’s blade.
 
  Drezdin kneeled as he picked the blade forged as strong as the hand it was made for, it was with a moist eye that the Cousland let the long sword rest in his palms, a deep exhale of breath was the only noise Drezdin could muster as he stared at the only remaining evidence of his Brother, why or how it came to rest here was a mystery that could not be answered, and Caesar sat next to his master unable to find another familiar scent in the room.
  
  But as Drezdin looked to collect himself the familiar creek of the floor boards echoed as the voice of a man was heard, “are you alright?” asked Alistair who approached his fellow Warden in concern, “just dandy” replied Drezdin as he quickly stood up, sword in hand.
  
  Alistair curiously eyed the Cousland and the weapon in his possession, “um, so what’s up with the sword?” asked Alistair ponderously causing the Cousland to glance down at the blade with a scheming eye, “I just thought it was you’re turn to carry two blades for once” answered Drezdin as he slowly handed the blade to Alistair.
 
  It was with a gasp that Alistair accepted the blade, “for me?” replied Alistair in a childish tone before turning serious, “so is there something important about this sword?” asked Alistair as he studied the heavy blade, “it was my brothers” replied Drezdin in a reminiscing  tone,  shocking Alistair.
 
  “Yeah about that, shouldn’t you’re brother be using this?” asked Alistair slightly perplexed, “and what do you think you are?” replied Drezdin as he approached the Inn’s exit with Caesar in tow, “but you’re real brother, is this the only sign of him?” asked Alistair causing Drezdin to stop and glance back, “it was” replied Drezdin, “so what doe’s this mean exactly?” asked Alistair again, “I can’t say, but good omen or bad I need you to take care of that sword for me, and my Brother Fergus” answered Drezdin as Alistair looked at the blade uncertainly.
 
  “I don’t really think I should take this, we both know I’m not the best to leave in charge of anything, and I don’t want to see you’re face if I lose it” spoke Alistair uncertain of the task laid out in front of him, “do you think I‘d trust you with it if I didn‘t have faith in you?” spoke Drezdin with a momentary smirk, Alistair just stood silent with a face of pleasant surprise.
 
  And with a deep sigh Drezdin left the inn, walking with a stressed disposition towards another one of the towns damaged but still stable structures,  cautiously stepping into what appeared to be a general store, pressing his back against the wall near the entrance.
 
  The Cousland slid down onto the floor into a sitting position, resting his head against the scarred wall while he registered the fact that within all realistic chances, he was the last of his family, but his motions were not without followers, and his body language was all it took for a certain Sorceress to become interested.

  ******()******
 
  Minutes passed as Drezdin sat upon the grimy floor of the destroyed town’s General Shop, the Cousland not taking notice of the many butchered sections of the building as bittersweet memories of his Brother ran through his thoughts, gazing at the unsheathed Cousland blade, the irony that the family’s ancestral blade was now as broken as the Cousland’s themselves.
 
  The poisonous thought that Drezdin had to accept, that in all chances he was the last to bare Cousland blood, and he would need to represent the defiance of generations to salvage the land, and his name, “I do hope that thou doe’s not seek to impale himself upon that weapon” spoke an all too familiar voice in times like these.
 
  Drezdin shifted his vision left to Morrigan who stood leaning against the entry’s frame, “no, but I could be swayed” replied the Cousland in a usual Drezdin like tone, sheathing the broken blade, “ha ha” was the equally sarcastic response from Morrigan, “so are you here to lecture about the inconveniences of emotions?” asked Drezdin in a cool manner.
 
  Morrigan simply scoffed at the notion, “no, I saw you and was just curious why were you looking so wary” spoke the Apostate in an investigative tone, “so I take it you want me to tell why that is, don’t you?” replied Drezdin with a indifferent look on his face, “that will not be necessary, Alistair explained enough to me off you’re Brother’s possible passing, he also said something akin to “stay away from him “ ” replied Morrigan in a calm manner.
 
  An odd chuckle escaped Drezdin as he stood up and walked into the center of the room, “there’s an irony here you know?” spoke Drezdin with a smirk as Morrigan slowly stepped away from the entrance further into the establishment, “and what would that irony be?” asked Morrigan in a cold investigating manner as Caesar snuck out the door.
 
  Drezdin merely smiled as he peered into the witch’s  golden eyes, “I’ve lost my entire family, and you want me to kill the only blood relative you have” answered Drezdin his smirk remaining, “irony that you try to equate you‘re delicate nurturers to mine” replied Morrigan bemused, “they are polar in our families differences, but doesn’t it bother you that I’m going to kill you’re mother, who in a sense is you’re entire bloodline, I‘m sure you have emotions somewhere deep” replied Drezdin nonchalantly.
 
  The Noble and the Apostate seemed to circle each other around the room as if caught in some distant tango, “I would not wish harm to befall her if I didn’t need to, but Flemeth raised me not to show mercy once an enemy is revealed, ’tis a good lesson for she would  destroy me if the roles reversed” replied Morrigan as Drezdin raised his eyebrow, “Flemeth sounds like a lovely woman” spoke Drezdin with a sarcastic smirk.
 
  Morrigan was bemused as the distance between them was slowly receding as an anxiousness began to build, “and what of you, I‘ve already told you what I think of you‘re foolish familial duties, and yet you do not explain why you still follow them, even when you need not to?”  asked Morrigan in a curious and condescending manner.
  
   Drezdin kept his smirk as they continued their roulette “I was much more selfish before, but I realized I can’t just give up the responsibilities of my name because I can, I understood that when my family was murdered and that is the reality I couldn‘t and can‘t change, but I will not let someone suffer what I have, and I will take every opportunity to save those I can on our travels, I owe that much to my family and myself to fulfill that duty” replied Drezdin in a collected manner  as Morrigan looked on snobbishly.
 
  Morrigan raised an eyebrow as they continued to pace around the room in a circular motion, that replicated a metaphysical dance, “it still seems foolish to me, but I care not for you’re ideals, I wish only to know if you still plan to carry out my request?” asked Morrigan in a cold and business like tone.
 
  A sigh escaped the Cousland as he replied, “I think you’ve known me long enough to know I don‘t go back on my word” replied Drezdin in a noble tone as the grin left his face, “hmm, I was just worried that you’re recent loss would’ve changed you’re mind, but ’tis curious why you would help me when we’ve not been on the best of terms?” spoke Morrigan in a curious tone as she now stood still.
 
  Drezdin moved closer to Morrigan as the two gazed into each others eyes, “is it so hard to believe I find you worth saving, that I believe you like this threatened land for all its flaws is beautiful and should be preserved, even if its just to bask in its allure”  spoke Drezdin in a half whisper as they grew closer.
 
  “Is this some nonsensical form of flattery, now why don‘t you tell me the truth?” asked Morrigan curiously as they stood close, “I did” spoke Drezdin with charming smile in a soft tone as Morrigan’s eyes possessed a glint of a confused reality, the Witch however unable to reply as the audible steps of Leliana interrupted they’re conversation.
 
  Leliana stepped into the room with a slightly quizzical expression as to what was going on, “uh Drezdin, we have gathered what we can from this town, and uh Shale is threatening Zevran” spoke Leliana as Drezdin sighed, “lovely” murmured Drezdin as he exited the building with a  hasty step.
 
  But while Drezdin left, Morrigan was still trying to register what Drezdin had just explained to her, she noticed the curious and sullen look Leliana was portraying through her sapphire eyes, causing Morrigan to don a venomous smile.
 
 “Jealous are we?”
 
   ******()******
 
  There was a small commotion in the town’s center where Shale was chasing Zevran around Bodahn’s cart, “don‘t doubt the fact that I will catch you” spoke Shale as the Golem and Elf continued their game of cat and mouse while Alistair, Sten, and Wynne all stood silently embarrassed  while Caesar sat wagging his tail with glee at the sight
  
  There with purposeful stride Drezdin approached the bickering pair, “what by the Maker’s blood are you two doing?” Drezdin asked as Zevran peeked his head around the cart, “the Statue and I seem to have come to a misunderstanding” spoke Zevran, ducking down as the Golem made a grab for him, “really?” spoke Drezdin in a typical for him tone as he crossed his arms, “there is no misunderstanding, I heard the pointy earred one refer to himself as a Crow when he spoke to the elder mage” explained Shale as the Golem was juked by the Elf who ran to the Cousland’s side.
 
  Drezdin sighed as he palmed his face in frustration, “he’s not a bird Shale, he’s an elf who used to work for a group of assassins called the Crows” spoke Drezdin in a ‘this is common sense speaking’ manner, “well how ’am I to know he is not, the Crow could possibly be tucking its wings under that armor” spoke Shale as Zevran burst out laughing.
 
  There was a tense moment as Drezdin got between the Golem and Elf for the purpose of stopping this, “Shale I think you and I both know that if Zevran were a Crow he would be covered in feathers” spoke Drezdin his matter of factness ever present as Shale scoffed, “he could‘ve molted” spoke Shale trying to convince itself.
 
  Drezdin just looked at Shale with a strictly non amused face while the Golem stood defiant, “I could strip and show you that I have no wings if you wish” spoke Zevran a perverted smirk across his face, Shale just sighed, “no that will not be necessary, It says you are not a Crow and common sense would agree with him” spoke the Golem some what disappointed.
 
  Alistair simply dusted his hands off as everyone gathered in the center of town, “so Drezdin should we get going now?” asked Alistair in a anxious fashion, “yes, but first did we find anything salvageable?” asked Drezdin as Bodahn hitched the Golem to Wagon, “well I found a bottle of wine that some poor soul was trying to bury before they were run through, poor fellow” replied Zevran pulling a bottle of wine from his satchel.
  
   The Apostate Morrigan sighed as she joined in on the conversation, “and that is all we found?” asked Morrigan with a air of suspicion towards the Elf, “sadly there was not much to be saved here” spoke Wynne as the party prepared to leave.
 
  And with a simple hand signal Drezdin began to usher his Companions away from the ashes of Tivoli, the journey to Denerim again taking center plate with only a few days walk remained until they reached the Capitol’s gate.
 
  ******()******
 
  Author’s Note:
  Before we say anything, (I finally  figured out how to put a signature on my profile huzzah) so now to the chapter I hope you enjoy it, I wanted to take a liberty with the little town and I apologize if I’ve offended the lore in any way.
  I also wanted to do something that was related to Fergus, and also I wanted to toss in a bit of  tension between the Protagonist and the Witch.
 
  P.S.  The whole Zevran Shale confrontation is a embellishment of a piece of Party banter between those two in the game.
 
  Thanks For Reading, Slim Warden.
 

Modifié par Slim Warden, 24 juin 2010 - 11:24 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

Wonderful as usual Slim! Nice job with Ali and Drez giving him the sword, and Drez's emotional state. Him and Morrigan always amusing. And I almost fell out of my chair with the Shale Zev chase. I can't wait for more!

[westiex9]

That was awesome! seeing Drezdin's emotional side and having some reference to Fergus adds another layer of complexity onto an already complex and interesting character, it was also cool how he countered Morrigan's usual nastiness with that quote "Even you are worth saving"





Also as Gil previously mentioned,i loved that chase with Zevran and Shale, seriously funny stuff



Keep up the amazing work Slim!

[LadyAly]

Quite amusing the Shale - Zevran thing and so well written.

Looking forward to read the next chapter

[Slim Warden]

 (Chapter 16: Issues……….)
 
  There was a damp autumn mist that filled the afternoon air of the forestry surrounding Denerim’s imposing landscape, its illustrious and defiant walls stood as proud as tall evergreens that covered the western edge of the city limits, the perfect cover for a Cousland plotting a way into a possibly hostile city.
 
  The Party  was a bustling around Drezdin who sat upon a tree stump, occupying his mind undoing the fastenings of his damaged armor for the purpose of placing it in a  sack that laid in front of him, a bag that was filled with equipment that was in ill repair, much said equipment  belonging to the Displaced Noble.

  Drezdin stood up and dusted the dirt of his grey trousers and adjusted his ivory tunic before a certain Golem broke the chain of the whispering wind, “I find it rather selfish that only It, the Odd One, and the Dwarves will be entering the city, I don’t see why I should be left behind” spoke Shale in an bothered tone.
 
  The Cousland looked at Shale with a raised eyebrow, “well Shale ,Alistair and I trying to be discrete with our little visit to a certain Chantry member, and you are a Golem, a walking talking monument, do you see the complication here” spoke Drezdin in a nonchalant tone as Shale  snobbishly scoffed.
 
  “And what of the Dwarves, I heard they are to depart our group is that correct?” asked Shale in a prying tone, “yes they were supplying us in return for escorting them to Denerim, and we‘ve done that so now we‘re parting ways” explained Drezdin as a breeze blew through the trees  as Leliana hummed a melody.
 
  “Well good, I grew tired of hulling around that wretched cart, I found it very compromising when the feathered fiends would swoop” spoke the Golem in a disturbingly relieved voice however the Golem was not the only one who wished to speak with the Cousland,  Morrigan approached dragging a somewhat inebriated Caesar by the collar while Wynne and Alistair scrimmaged through torn packs.
 
  The Witch of The Wild let go her grasp of the Mabari’s collar letting Caesar flop on his side, the Hound’s tongue wildly licking at air while Drezdin looked on perplexed by the situation, “uh yeah what’s this exactly?” asked the Cousland as Morrigan’s face donned a frustrated brow.
 
  “You’re  mongrel just ate an entire satchel of herbs from the Korcari Wilds, and quite possibly all of Wynne’s collection as well”  spoke Morrigan as she crossed her arms and looked at the Mabari with disgust,
“what kind of herbs are we talking about?” asked Drezdin as he kneeled down to examine his Dog who seemed to be trapped in a daydream. 
 
  “ ‘Twas the kind that would kill a man, but you’re mutt will be fine, he would be dead right now if he were not a dog considering what it has digested” spoke the Witch as Wynne entered the conversation, “Drezdin seeing as you’re hound ate all of the ingredients to our salves, it would be wise if we were to replace them” spoke Wynne in a counseling tone.
 
  Drezdin sighed as he pulled a small pouch from his pack, “we’re barely going to cover repairs with this” spoke the Cousland as he investigated the contents of the pouch, “well you do still have those Drake Scales do you not?” asked Morrigan in a presumptuous tone.
 
  The Displaced Noble raised an eyebrow as he returned the glare, “indeed I do, now I suppose everything is in order?” asked Drezdin as Morrigan and Wynne nodded in agreement as he handed them a few coins, however Alistair had his own side request for his fellow Warden.
 
  The Templar approached the Cousland scratching at his scalp as if digging for words, “Drezdin, um listen I have someone I want to look up in Denerim, and I was just wondering if we had the time, could we maybe take a moment to search?” asked Alistair as Zevran commented in the background on Leliana’s singing voice, “so you’re Sister doesn’t live in a beautiful pasture of flowers” spoke Drezdin reminiscing of his time within the Fade.
 
  Alistair cleared his throat as he spoke again, “you remembered that did you, uh well I just wanted to ask if we could, I’ll only take a wee bit of time” spoke the Templar as he pinched his thumb and index finger together to represent a timeframe, “unless Logaihn finds out we’re here, sure why not” remarked Drezdin as Alistair smirked.
 
  And with that remark soon it was Bodahn who tugged at the Couslands tunic, “Warden you‘ve been a fantastic escort, and after I trade some of the scavenging from you‘re recent battles, I‘d have a surplus of produce sought after in the country side, so I thought it best if I continued to travel with you, especially since the Boy has taken a liking to the Golem” spoke Bodahn pointing over to Sandal.
 
 The Blonde Dwarfe was polishing one of the many small crystallites  that was protruding from that stone skin that made up It‘s Legs, “enchantment” spoke Sandal as Shale murmured something under what one could say was It’s breath.
 
  Alistair looked at the Dwarf curiously, “so you’re staying with us then?” asked Alistair as he looked at Bodahn’s cart of goods while the Merchant Dwarf nodded, “isn‘t that convenient,  Shale, you stay here with Caesar and Sandal, while Sten protects Bodahn in the city” ordered Drezdin with the idea that an imposing Qunari warrior would be great and slightly comfortable as the Merchant‘s guard.
 
   The Golem sighed while Sten nodded in agreement, “Wynne and Morrigan, you two seek out a bazaar for the herbs, and Leliana you and I are going to visit Brother genitivi” ordered Drezdin as Leliana cracked a smile while she hummed and Morrigan and Leliana showed a sign of agreement while Alistair stood curiously before Drezdin gave him his orders.
  
  “Alistair, you take Zevran and go find you’re sister, and we‘ll meet at the city gate by nightfall” spoke Drezdin with a straight face while Alistair looked on in horror, “wait what? Why Zevran can’t I just go with you instead?” spoke Alistair nervously, “well Zevran is an assassin and has to be good at finding people, and this way we’re all getting things done” spoke Drezdin in a matter of facto tone.
 
   Alistair shook his head in disapproval, “yeah, he’s an assassin who tried to kill us” spoke Alistair as Zevran cracked a smile, “why not let bygones be bygones, eh?” remarked Zevran with a relaxed grin, “you two just stay together, but first things first, Zevran you‘re weapons?” spoke Drezdin as he held his hand out motioning the Elf to give up his armaments.
 
  And with the Antivan’s compliance to relinquish his weapons and Alistair’s sighs, they were ready to face Denerim, while Drezdin led the first of the pairs to enter the city carrying the heavy  sack of equipment over his right shoulder, the swaying of another bag containing Drake Scales attached to his belt along with the sheathed blade at his hip and one on his back flowed with his every motion.
  
    The precarious pair of Alistair and Zevran were to be next, and it was not hard to see that Drezdin’s decision of his Companion through the city dumbfounded Alistair, but there would be but one curiousity to make Denerim a trip to remember.
 
  ******()******
 
  The gates of Denerim were a testament of Fereldan’s pride, the tall standing gateway which gaped open in times of relative peace, even now in a dark time they stood open, a subtle propaganda that held back the river of fear that could engulf this city at any moment.
 
  And it was with relative ease that Drezdin and Leliana made their way past the guards at the gate, the City’s proud military force some what negligent as they appeared to them at least to be nothing more than the usual drifters that sought shelter in Fereldan’s crown jewel, the very melting pot of the nation’s culture.
 
 The hustle of everyday life in the city walls surrounded the Displaced Noble and the Rogue, the architecture that surrounded them as they slowly navigated the clay streets to the City’s market were built of stone and wood, built to persevere.
 
   Drezdin knew with a concentrated posture while they neared the trade district that the rest of the Group must’ve past the  city’s entrance by now, the duo of a Displaced Noble and a Former Bard passed through one of the gates of the city’s many inner walls while Leliana seemed to look curiously at Cousland who seemed rather distant at the moment.
  
  The Minstrel’s face grew concerned as she spoke, “ is it true what Alistair told me of you’re brother, that you found his sword” asked  Leliana in a curious manner, “it is true” spoke Drezdin in a detached but unperturbed tone as they walked, “Drezdin I know this must be very hard, and I just wanted to let you know its alright to grieve” spoke Leliana in a soft tone.
 
  Drezdin glanced at Leliana as the two strode along, a sigh leaving his lips, “I‘ve lost the rest of my family, what‘s another pyre going to change?” replied the Cousland in a slightly scarred tone, “you must feel something,  he was you‘re Brother and you still had the hope of finding him” spoke Leliana in a gentle voice.
   
     The Cousland looked at her with a hazel gaze, “the world won’t stop for us Leliana we have a duty to fulfill and that’s what I want to focus on, so please don’t make speak of this, I can‘t” spoke Drezdin in a somber tone as Leliana looked on with a concerned   glint in her eyes, “for what its worth Drezdin, maybe the sword was a sign, you did not find a body so he could still be alive, yes?” spoke Leliana in a optimistic 
  
   “I wish I could believe that” replied Drezdin grimly as  Leliana smiled softly back at him, “well I do, we’ve only just started our journey, there is still much to discover” spoke Leliana as a optimistic smile edged on to Drezdin’s face, the market now within vision and just a few minutes of reach.
 
      They entered the bustling crowd that surrounded the tented stall as  Leliana’s eyes seemed to light up the Rogue catching in a spare glance a stall with a collection of finely woven footwear, and Drezdin raised a brow as Leliana stopped to get a better look at the footwear, “do you want a pair?’ asked Drezdin standing beside the Minstrel, “oh no, I’m just admiring those beautiful blue satin shoes”  spoke Leliana as she sighed and turned away.
 
   But it was to her surprise that Drezdin who had placed the sheathed Cousland blade held a few coins in-between his fingers, “why don‘t you carouse a bit while I take care of business?” spoke the Cousland, “I can’t it wouldn’t be right” replied Leliana somewhat conflicted, “why not?  You deserve it” spoke Drezdin whispering in her ear as he placed the coins in her hand.
 
  Leliana smiled  tenderly  as she watched Drezdin walk off in search of a blacksmith for the purpose of repairing the pack of equipment the Cousland had been lugging around with relative ease, but they were not the only two in search of someone.
 
  Meanwhile……

  The many streets of the city seemed to go on forever as Alistair followed Zevran, the Elf maneuvering from street to street, from borough to borough in a supposed search for the Templar’s sister, “Zevran I’m starting to really doubt that you know a shortcut to the Market District” spoke Alistair somewhat annoyed as he kept a careful on eye on the Elf,  ready to counter any sudden betrayal.
 
  Zevran merely looked back with a somewhat disturbing grin, “I used this shortcut many times during my short stays in the city, we will be there in no time” spoke the Antivan as Alistair planted his feet and halted his advance, “you know I’ve been to Denerim before too, and I know that we are nowhere near the Market district, so you tell me where you’re taking me, or I-I’ll have to hurt you……very badly” spoke Alistair with a somewhat straight tone.
 
  The Antivan crow sighed as he stopped and turned around to face Alistair, “alas you are correct, my little shortcut does lead somewhere other than the Market, but I assure my intentions are the opposite of malicious” spoke Zevran with smirk and a relaxed tone.
 
  Alistair looked at him curiously, “well where exactly do you intend to take me?” asked Alistair perplexed as Zevran grinned like a deviant,  “a fine establishment called the Pearl” spoke Zevran, causing Alistair to reel back in disgust, “but that’s a brothel, I wanted to find my sister” spoke Alistair annoyed.
 
  “Well how do you expect to meet you’re sister tensed like the string of a crossbow, you need to relieve some stress my friend, take some leisure while you can” spoke Zevran in a persuasive tone, “no, I refuse to go to a brothel,  I‘m not wasting myself, I just won’t” spoke Alistair crossing his arms.
 
  Zevran looked at the Templar with an investigative eye, “ah I see you are an “initiate“, well I see no reason why I cannot enjoy my time, and you do remember you’re fellow Warden’s orders to stay together, and you would not want to displease him would you?” remarked Zevran as he started walking away in the Pearl’s direction, causing Alistair to throw his arms up in frustration as he followed.
 
  It seems his quest had been sidetracked.

   *******()*******   
 
  A wind blow as Drezdin stood outside Denerim’s smithy, the sign that was placed beside the door advertised it as the home of one Master Wade, the wooden  billboard fittingly painted a picture of a colorful and inspired craftsman, and as the Cousland opened the doors of the establishment he hoped the sign accurate.
  
   The door swung open almost silently as the humid air of the forge rushed out, the aroma of singed metal filling the air that surrounded Drezdin as he was greeted by a rather courteous man behind the shop’s counter, “welcome my good ser to Wade’s Emporium, what services do you seek from Fereldan’s finest blacksmith?” asked the well kempt man, his brown hair looking as if it was freshly cut.
 
  Drezdin placed the sack he had been carrying with him upon the counter along with the Cousland blade strapped to his back, “does Wade do maintenance?” asked Drezdin with a raised brow as cry from the building’s forge rang loudly, “Herren I refuse to do something as meaningless as a patch up job” spoke a man who’s bald head dripped with sweat, all the way down to his eccentric beard.
 
  The man behind the counter shot a rather annoyed look at the smith before returning his gaze to the Cousland, “Wade will, but only for the right price…..say fifteen sovereign” spoke Herren as he examined the broken equipment, “you‘re joking right?” spoke Drezdin unimpressed as he searched his coin pouch which had less than half that.
 
  Herren simply pushed the possessions back to Drezdin’s end of the counter, “I do not joke friend, Wade is a certifiable artist, and his art is near priceless” spoke the Salesman, causing the Cousland to plot a loophole, “now  would you ,me being of noble blood, a Cousland and could promise you very lucrative future contracts, if you did me but one favor”  spoke Drezdin with all the political grace of a Noble.
 
  A loud laugh came from the forge, “Herren is another beggar trying to pose as a Noble?” asked Master Wade as he gasped for breath, “the fourth one this week” spoke Herren with a sigh while Drezdin’s face was coated in a subtle rage as he sighed.
 
  The Cousland pulled his last card from his proverbial sleeve as he grasped a sack from his waist, “I don’t have time to argue so would trade repairs for Drake Scales?” asked Drezdin in a ponderous tone as Herren’s face turned pale and Wade’s ears perked up, “did I hear you right, Drake Scales?” asked Wade as he rushed to the Noble’s side.
 
  The Cousland smirked victoriously as he held the bag, “possibly” remarked Drezdin as Herren spoke up,  “well isn’t that very nice, but I guess you should be leaving now, okay very nice to meet you farewell” spoke the Salesman frantically, “nonsense Herren, for such a trade our good friend um, what’s you’re name?” asked Wade Curiously.
 
  “Drezdin” replied the Cousland as Wade snapped his fingers, “ah yes Desmond, should be rewarded for such a trade, please good ser allow me the honor of crafting those Drake Scales, and I will perform a patch up job to end all” spoke Wade in a pleading tone, “just call me Drezdin from now on and we have a deal” spoke Drezdin with a smirk and  as  Wade nodded his head in agreement taking the damaged possessions to the forge while the Cousland placed the Drake Scales on the counter.
 
  Herren looked at Drezdin with sullen eyes, “you’re repairs will be finished by nightfall, thank you for you’re patronage” spoke the man in a bitter mood as the Displaced Noble marched out the Smith’s door
 
  All that was left for the Displaced Noble to do was pay a visit to Brother Genitivi, who resided in the eastern end of the district across the street from the green noble‘s tavern, and as Drezdin maneuvered through the crowd he noticed Leliana out the corner of his eye,  the Rogue still browsing the many stalls of the market
 
  ******()******
 
  The aroma of ale and song filled the air as Drezdin approached Genitivi’s home, and oddity that a Chantry brother would preside next door to a tavern especially a tavern, even if the Tavern played host to a majority of the city’s Nobles, they were arguably the most frequent sinners of all.
 
  The echoes of many voices polluted the street as a Cousland approached what appeared to be Genitivi’s address, a tall two story building of strong lumber stood in front of Drezdin, who  approached the door in a collected manner, knocking on the door with strength to provoke a response.
  
  And provoke he did as a short gaunt man opened the door, the man’s pale skin was the opposite of his raven black hair, “yes, can I help you?” asked the rather finicky fellow, “I assume you’re Brother Genitivi?” asked Drezdin as the man’s eye opened wide an he opened the door, “no I’ am his assistant Weylon but you are welcome inside for a moment if you wish” spoke Weylon in a courteous tone
 
  Drezdin obliged the Assistant following the man into the central room which had many books and dining ware strewn about a long wooden table, “so Genitivi I presume he is out?” asked Drezdin as he examined ever wall of the room, “yes he is, and would you care for some tea?” replied Weylon as he collected a tea pot from the fireplace.
 
   The Cousland examined one of the many illustrations of Andraste on the wall replying with out a glance at the servant, “I would appreciate it” spoke Drezdin, receiving a hastily poured cup, “so when will Brother Genitivi be returning?” asked Drezdin interrogatively before he blew on his scorching tea, “I cannot say, he left on a expedition weeks ago” spoke the gaunt man.
 
  A ponderous look developing on Drezdin’s face as he caught a peek of the kitchen that was littered with books, “and where did his expedition lead him exactly?” asked the Cousland, “when I last spoke to him, he spoke of finding trace of the Sacred Ashes near Lake Calenhad” replied Weylon as he put the teapot back over the fireplace.
 
  Drezdin sighed as he continued to hold the hot tea not even pondering the idea of a sip, “and would it be too much of me to ask where he went exactly?” asked the Displaced Noble, “well I uh, he told me of an inn where he would be  staying” answered the man nervously, “did he give you the name of said Inn?” asked Drezdin instinctually suspicious of this man, “I found the Inn’s name whilst searching his research” spoke Waylon as he pawed at some paper laid out on the table.
 
  The curious man approached Drezdin with a piece of parchment ‘The Spoiled Princess’ was scribbled on the paper that Weylon handed the Cousland, “now why would you have to search through his belongings, why would he not just tell you?” questioned Drezdin with a raised eyebrow.
 
  Weylon seemed a bit flustered, “well uh, they told us that,  I-I mean he told me…..” stuttered the Man as Drezdin grew overwhelmingly suspicious, “ ‘they”, “us” what are you not telling me Weylon?” spoke the Displaced Noble with a wicked smile as he approached the frail man, clutching his tea cup in his right palm.
 
  Weylon took a step backwards his right hand sliding along the room’s large table, “I-I please just don’t ask anymore questions, just leave” spoke the Man frantically, Drezdin’s reply was a defiant glint in his eye, “no” whispered Drezdin with his wicked smirk still prevalent.
 
  The air seemed to be sucked from the room as Weylon’s right hand started to spark with lightning, pulling the open palm back as if  preparing to strike Drezdin with a powerful spell, the Cousland’s immediate response was to toss the scorching contents of his tea cup in his opponents face.
 
  The hissing sound that Weylon made as the hot liquid met his mug, a burning sensation that caused him to lose concentration on his spell, Drezdin took this moment to land a powerful kick at the shins of the reeling Weylon.
 
  A shout of agony left Weylon’s mouth a rippling crack the result of Drezdin’s strike, a strike that was followed with a right hook that sent Weylon’s head ricocheting off the table in the room’s center, the Cousland clutching the Frail chameleon’s throat as he picked him off the ground and slammed him onto the table, possibly bruising Weylon’s back.
 
  Drezdin  twisted around Weylon as he proceeded to drag him head first across the table, scraping him across every possible object that decorated the furniture, eventually reaching the end where he planted him with force onto the ground, causing the Pale mage to lose his breath.
 
  The Cousland planted his right boot on the mans chest as he proceeded to interrogate him, “you need concentration to cast spells don’t you?  Well lets see how you focus now” spoke Drezdin as he noticed a new spark in Weylon’s hand, the Noble raising his right foot before crashing it down on Weylon’s chest forcing wind out of his lungs.
  
   “Now where is Genitivi?” asked Drezdin calmly looking down at his helpless foe, “I will never tell, I would rather die than betray the prophet” spoke the Man in a weak tone, “are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” asked Drezdin immediately after crashing his boot down on the man, “you will burn for this” spoke Weylon as he tried to spit at the Noble.
 
  Drezdin just looked down on him with a sullen look as he stomped one last time, planting his boot directly on the man’s wind pipe ushering him to the next world swiftly.
 
  And now it was time to search as Drezdin maneuvered through the house, finding many notes and strewn about books littering the floors, of all things it was the dead body of  what could’ve been the real Weylon that shocked the Cousland, but it was on a desk near the body that Drezdin found a journal and a marked map.
 
  The journal was undoubtedly Genitivi’s as every page was marked with a signature, and upon the map was on encircled settlement, where Drezdin could only guess was the Brother’s destination, a town called Haven.
 
  Meanwhile…….

  The air was thick of many pungent aroma’s, perfume, cologne, the sins of man all seemed to float in the air that Alistair found himself breathing as he followed Zevran into the Pearl, its sturdy floors where pattered with the steps of working girls and patron alike.
 
  Alistair felt sick to his stomach as Zevran basked in the establishments glory, leading Alistair into the middle of the crowded common area, approaching the Headmistress of the brothel who was engaged in a conversation with a group of armed men, “excuse my dear, but my friend here is but a young stallion in need of breaking, and I believe that you’re services could be useful” spoke Zevran in a negotiating tone.
 
  The face of Alistair grew rather disgusted at the thought as he waved his arms in defiance, but the Headmistress would not be able to speak as a tall man decked in armor looked at the pair with enraged eyes, “you dare interrupt our business knife ears, we get the first pick fore we were here first” spoke the man in a strong tone as his allies rallied behind him and the Headmistress motioned over to the Brothel guards.
 
  Zevran smirked calmly as he spoke in retaliation, “you may have been here first, but alas my friend has never been there at all” spoke the Elf in a charming tone, “and I don’t think I want to go “there” here, so we’ll just be leaving” spoke Alistair as he grabbed Zevran’s shoulder.
 
  “STOP!” screamed the dark toned Man, “you should learn not to disrespect the  White Falcons, now we will teach you  why” spoke the man as and his men drew their weapons, Alistair gripped his sword and shield as Zevran stood beside him with a wine bottle he pulled off one of the tables
 
  “Why would you pick a fight when you don’t have any real weapons?” asked Alistair as the tension in he air grew, not only were the mercenaries ready to fight, so were the Brothel’s bouncers, and it all equaled a day to remember.

  Author’s Note:
   First off I’m going to tie up Alistair and Zevran’s little journey in the next chapter, and a bit more as well.
  So enjoy, and I hope I got Wade and Herren right because I had an uncontrollable urge to add them in this chapter , and next chapter we’ll get a blast from the past for not just one, but for two  characters (yay!) 

     Thanks For Reading, Slim Warden.

Modifié par Slim Warden, 30 juin 2010 - 09:28 .

[LadyAly]

Awesome chapter

I like the way you point out little details -

It gives me a lot of inspiration, too.

[Gilgamesh1138]

WOOT! So much to love! Leli and her shoes. The dog high as a kite. Alistair and Zev at the Pearl. LOL. I think Ali should get 'broken in". Thanks Slim! *blows kisses*

[westiex9]

Awesome Slim! poor shale! everyone gets to go out on the town except her

[Slim Warden]

 (Chapter 17: …….Everybody Has Them)
 
  The flickering of many candles surrounded Drezdin while he placed the map and journal in his satchel, his senses on a constant vigil for anything from guards or the False Weylon’s possible accomplices.
 
  But it seemed that Drezdin was alone in the house littered with books, the only other arguably human presence were the duo of corpses that sat in opposing rooms, and the Cousland with the information he needed in his possession he saw no reason to linger.

  The walk through the house was marred by the still air radiated from the house of bedlam, the Cousland nary taking a glance back as he casually strode out the door back into the bustle of the Market, maneuvering his way into the crowded square, slipping past individuals as he searched for a familiar face.
 
  The muffled echoes of the market goers bled as Drezdin stood in the middle of it all in a calm search, but it was Leliana who found him first, holding her newly purchased pair of satin blue shoes, “thank you Drezdin, they are so beautiful” spoke Leliana with a tender smile, the Rogue approaching from the side.
 
  A grin was the Cousland’s reply, “surely they are not as lovely as you” spoke Drezdin with a flattering charm, “flatterer, so have you found Genitivi?” asked Leliana as the two began to stroll through the district, trying to distance themselves from the crowd, “no, but I found his assistant” replied Drezdin in rather laid back tone.
 
  Leliana looked on curiously, “and what did his assistant tell you?” asked the Minstrel as they walked the squares rim, “in between trying to lead me astray and attempting to kill me, not much, however I did find Genitivi’s journal” explained Drezdin.
 
  “Kill you? Why would he try to kill you?” asked Leliana perplexed, “I can’t say, but I think that this town Genitivi spoke of in his journal might have something to do with it” replied the Cousland, catching out the corner of his eye a stalking figure.
 
  The watcher seemed to follow them from a distance as the duo walked, “we’re being followed” whispered the Noble to the Minstrel, “by who?” asked Leliana not looking back, “probably a weird cultist, just give me you’re hand and follow my lead” spoke the Cousland as he took her hand in his, intent on leading them to the backstreets and finding out who this stalker was.
   
  Drezdin slowly strolled with Leliana out of the Market, the deprived hollows that ran through Denerim’s veins where they now tread, and as the witnesses depleted the stalker turned from to few, four men tall and short followed the duo down the street.
 
  And it was the final turn into a rather abandoned block that Drezdin sprinted with Leliana in tow, rushing past a corner curb and ducking out of sight and then twirling themselves into an alleyway.
 
  Leliana gasped for air as they’re chests pressed against each other for but a moment in the alley, her back against a wall just as the Cousland had placed her in front of him, the adrenaline of the situation visible in they’re eyes as they met  before Drezdin stepped away from her, noticing a heavy pan  discarded atop a crate.
 
  The heavy steps of steel boots rang from around the corner as Drezdin not exactly wanting to kill but at least keeping one coherent enough to question picked up the pan,  they’re stalkers knew  the duo were aware of them, and now were rushing to catch up to wherever they went off to, and as the first began to swiftly approach past the alley, his sprint was met with the clang of  blunt iron and the cracking of nose and cheeks.
 
  Drezdin who had been waiting for the footsteps to near swung from alley with the pan before rushing out to meet his opponents, the three men that awaited him were armed with swords and spears, while the individual on the ground was only armed with a concussion inducing pain.
 
   The first to approach Drezdin did it swiftly, swinging high only to be sidestepped and parried away before meeting the retaliation of a pan to the skull, the second was a bit more focused just as he was brash, swiping from Drezdin’s right, the Cousland swiftly parried it with a backhanded upward deflection from the pan. 
 
  Sparks flying from the clashing metal as Drezdin attempted to draw his sword before his assailant’s next strike  but he was soon aided by Leliana who struck the man broadside of the head with a dagger, the Rogue making her graceful step useful coming up silently on her target, but she was forced to step away however.
 
  The third standing attacker nervously struck, lunging at the rogue first and missing before aiming at the Warden with his wooden pike blindly thrusting it forward with a lack of enthusiasm, Drezdin just grinned as he smashed the spears tip downward with his defensive cooking appliance , planting the tip in the dirt while he used footwork to evade it.
 
  But it was not over as Drezdin kicked the wooden center of the pike, breaking it in half before grabbing the tipped piece from the dirt slashing the hand of his opponent with the spear in a smooth motion before dropping him with pan strike to the jaw.
 
  And as the man met the dirt Drezdin followed and placed his knee on the man’s chest before stabbing the spear tip into the unguarded shoulder of the man, “this hurts doesn‘t it?  Now I think you owe me an explanation” spoke the Cousland cynically twist the spear, “please stop this was just my first job” murmured the crying man.
 
  The Cousland stopped the twisting as he got right in the man’s face, “who sent you? Arl Howe, Teryn Loghain, a bloody Cult , WHO?!” asked the Cousland  with authority as the young man sulked,  “I don‘t know who sent us, we were just given a contact’s address and was told to capture the Red Head and kill whoever was with her” spoke the blonde haired mercenary.
 
   Drezdin glanced at Leliana who looked as though she had seen a ghost while she made sure that the other stalker that had been dispatched would not interfere, “so have you been following us?” interrogated Drezdin grabbing the mans collat and slightly leveraging him up, “No!  we were suppose to head to Red Cliffe then she just popped up here, I can give you the contact‘s address please just let me live, I didn‘t think it would be this hard” spoke the shattered man.
 
  “Where did you stash it?” asked the Curious Cousland with a quizzical look, in the right pocket of my trousers, and I can’t thank yo…….” spoke the Mercenary as the Cousland released his collar, just a second before knocking him unconscious with the pan,   
 
  The Cousland sighed as he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from the mans trouser pocket, standing up  gazing at Leliana who stared back at him with the nearly exact gaze, “Drezdin, I think there is much I need to explain” spoke Leliana solemnly as she looked around at all the unconscious stalkers, and then back to Drezdin who stood with his arms crossed and a caustic glint.
 
  “I was figuring that much”
   
  ******()*******

   The room was hot and stuffy, a tension looming in the air while the spawn of Royalty shifted his gaze from one end of the room to the other, at one side were the Brothel Guards and at the other were a bunch of angry White Falcons, and stuck in the middle were Zevran and himself.
 
  Zevran studied every aspect of the room with whimsy, “it seems we are at a, what would you call it?” spoke the Antivan with a macabre charm, “an impasse?’ replied Alistair more focused on the room than the Elf, the subtle movements of the Pearl’s customers echoed through the thick air as they looked on anxiously, some attempting to duck behind the bar or sleaze out the door.
 
  The Antivan Crow studied the White Falcon’s numbers before glancing at the Brothel Guards that stood between the common room and the private chambers, Zevran concluding that the Brothel Guards  where in easier ranks to pass than the Falcon’s, and it was with a nudge to Alistair that the two forged a plan.
 
  The White Falcon Officer made the first move, rushing the Duo with bravado his blade risen ready to strike down on them, Alistair replied by toppling the closest table between them as a sort of mini blockade, while the Antivan provoked the guards by tossing the wine bottle in his hand at them.
 
  A certifiable brawl took place as Alistair parried and reacted with his shield, blocking and pushing back any falcon that approached him as the screams of working girl and casual customer alike echoed in the musky room, the Elf Zevran took a more brash approach using a stool to disarm and steal a weapon from one of the guards before using said weapon to slice open the shin of a rushing Mercenary, the duo never straying to far from the room‘s center where they stood with strength.
 
  And it was this moment that after the dubious brawl started it left Falcon and Guards injured leaving an unblocked path open to the private chambers, Zevran nudging Alistair as the Templar obliged the idea, parrying another strike by the White Falcon officer before driving a blade in his gut, wrenching it out before he rushed towards the back rooms.
  
   Zevran had Alistair’s back as the Templar rushed the short distance to the door, the Elf acting as a distraction using his speed and wit to draw opponents away from the Templar who used his momentum to break open the locked door.
 
  Zevran quickly maneuvered his way into the private sector as Alistair regained his bearing from the hard hit he took on his recently healed shoulder bashing the door, and it was Zevran who hastily led the group as the Guards and White Falcon became bottlenecked at the entrance.
 
  Alistair tried his hardest not to blush as scantily clad women stepped out from rooms with quizzical looks, however Zevran could only crack a sly grin as he approached a window that was placed at the end of the hallway that acted as the membrane of the chamber‘s.
 
   And with a brave dive Zevran jumped through the ground level window, his arms protecting his eyes and face as he crashed through the glass before barrel rolling out on the moist dirt outside, Alistair taking a much simpler approach out the window using his protected palm to leverage himself up and over.
 
  The fighting that had broken out in the pearl was still loud as Mercenary rushed towards the window, but he was too late to catch a glimpse of the fleeing Elf and Templar who had rushed down an alley towards the Market District.

  Meanwhile……… 

   ******()******
 
  The streets echoed an unnerving silence as Leliana and Drezdin distanced themselves from the scene of they’re recent battle, a slightly pained look was drawn on Leliana’s face as her Cousland companion studied over the address they were marching towards, the dented frying pan still in his possession stuffed in his overloaded satchel.
 
  The lukewarm pathways of the city were engulfing as the duo slowed their pace, “I think we’re far enough, now tell me why are Mercenaries after you?” asked Drezdin in a casually curious manner, “I did not tell you why I left Orlais, or why I left my life as a Rogue did I?” replied Leliana in a ominous and grim tone as she took a moment to gather herself.
 
  The Cousland looked on with a rather straight face, “no, but its not to late to start” replied Drezdin with a concerned eye, “when lady Cecilia died, I had no one to seek guidance from, and all I knew was the arts, but I met someone who made me believe I was cared for, a mentor of life, Marjolaine” spoke Leliana a bittersweet taste in words.
  
     Drezdin looked at Leliana with a piqued interest as they continued along the road to the market district, “so this Marjolaine, she has a hand in all of this?” asked the Curious Cousland, “I believe so, she taught me so much about the world, and she showed me the thrill of being a Bard, and I was enamored with the deeds, my life, and with her” spoke Leliana regretfully as her head hung low.

  A inquisitive eye was what Drezdin gazed at Leliana with, a strange and soft glint in his eye, “she meant the world to you didn‘t she?” asked the Cousland with a soft tone, “the affection I felt for her was paramount, there was nothing I would not do for her, and maybe that was my greatest sin” spoke Leliana in a still lukewarm and bittersweet tone.
 
  As the bustle of the market square neared in the late afternoon breeze they halted for a moment as Leliana looked on into nothing as she reminisced, “she sent me to kill a man of importance and bring back the  sealed documents in his possession, it was easy just as every other target she sent me to seduce and kill was, but I grew curious of the sealed letters I took” spoke Leliana as Drezdin looked on with a look of slight understanding.
 
  “So you read them” spoke Drezdin in a matter of fact tone while Leliana slowly nodded, “I read them and I was distraught, they were letters of proof that claimed Marjolaine was selling Orlesian secrets to other countries, treason in its worst form” spoke the Rogue as Drezdin sighed, “what did you do with them?” asked the Cousland.
 
  “I brought them to her, I confronted Marjolaine and told her I was worried for her, but she shrugged me off ,told me it would all be well and that she would clear things up, but what I did not know is she would  sacrifice me” spoke Leliana somberly, “she betrayed you” replied Drezdin in a reminiscent tone, a strong sense of relation to the Minstrel, her plight pulling strings within him.
 
  “Yes, she make it look as though I had been the traitor, and she gave me up to the Orlesian’s who did not take me well, they locked me away and tortured me, but I guess my Bard training was good  enough to find a way out, and then I came here to Fereldan, the Chantry, and you” explained Leliana her words progressively less morose.

  Drezdin looked at Leliana with a sympathetic composure as she spoke again,  “and you‘re sure this Marjolaine is sending Mercenaries after you and not the Orlesians?” asked the Cousland, “yes, the Orlesians would not send Fereldan Mercenaries, it has to be marjolaine it makes the most sense,  but I did not think she would want me dead after all these years, and I dragged you into it, and for this I‘ am sorry” spoke Leliana remorsefully.

  “Don’t apologize  Leliana you’ve done no wrong to me, and I won‘t let them do this to you” spoke Drezdin in a sincere and comforting tone, causing Leliana  to crack a soft and subtle smile as they began a new they’re trek to the market where the address of the Mercenary’s contact resided.

  ******()******
 
  The bustle of the Market district was grinding to a halt as many of stalls were making themselves ready to call it a day, the dusk sun shining a spectacular orange throughout the city while its inhabitants and visitors to its streets had no choice but to bask in it.
 
  And it was Drezdin and Leliana who resided in the category of visitors, the duo making their way to a street near the city’s chantry, the dark tone of the wooden buildings that rested before them, the address that they sought staring at them with a ominous maliciousness.
 
  The Cousland who stood confirming the location by comparing the address with the parchment taken from the Mercenary, “this is the place, are you ready for this?” asked Drezdin as he tossed the paper into the breeze, “I-I believe  its time that I settled this” replied Leliana in a just barely collected tone.
 
  Drezdin smirked as he studied the door, plotting his next step with a sinister glee, “alright then” spoke the Cousland as he approached the door, ready to  draw his blade at any moment as he knocked on the entrance, “let me in I’ve got the girl” spoke the Cousland as he stood close to the door.
  
 
  “Really? Well thats just excellent” spoke the lightly armored man who opened the door, only to met with the onrushing blade through the gut before being shrugged off to the floor by a Displaced Noble, and his fellow guard quickly drew his blade as he prepared for a confrontation, “you will not be leaving this place alive friend” murmured the man in heavy plate, his long grey hair hanging out the back of his helmet.
  
   Drezdin taunted him with a two fingered gesture to have at it, the tall Veteran Mercenary with a broad shoulders obliged taking the first swipe that forced Drezdin to step back from the small rooms heart with its power, but it was with a swift counter that the Cousland parrying the next strike away,  kicking the man within the gut the steel armor acting as a amplifier for the pain sending the Mercenary reeling.
 
  And as the man reeled with his arms slightly raised, the Cousland slashed at the man unguarded under arm, severing arteries that reside in the armpit, and as the man felt himself fading wobbling in his step before dropping his weapon, the last pain of life he would  feel was the bottom of a Cousland’s boot against his abdomen, the strike sending him crashing backwards through the closed apartment door, his weight flinging it open.
 
  And as Drezdin and Leliana entered the living space of this building they heard a subtle clapping, the applause of a petit woman with raven hair who sat upon a seemingly comfortable table, “ah my sweet Leliana, I apologize for not being accommodating for such a visit, you need to understand I‘ am limited in luxuries within this pungent and derelict nation” spoke the Woman in a smug tone.
 
  The Cousland raised an eyebrow as he looked at the Woman, “have you forgotten about the Mercenaries you sent, or are you just bloody mad?” spoke Drezdin in a calm matter of fact tone, “Leliana where did you find him?  Such charm in this one,  but alas you will use him like the others” spoke Marjolaine in a venomously diplomatic tone.
 
  Leliana stepped in front of Drezdin with a fire in her eyes, “spare you‘re pleasantries Marjolaine, you sent killers after me and my Friends, why?” asked Leliana in a strong voice, “ah my sweet Leliana, you should know I would never send more than I believed you capable of dispatching, I just had to lure you back to me, and here you are” spoke Marjolaine in a sinister undertone.
 
  There was a shock in Leliana’s eye, “I know you‘re mind, there is much more to this” spoke Leliana as Marjolaine stood from her seat, “so very true I’ve watched you for years now, I think what is she plotting living in that chantry like some poverty stricken peasant, I was waiting for you to make a move, and then one day you left, with my secrets” replied the raven haired Bard.
 
  Drezdin looked on with a sullen face, “a bit paranoid are we?” remarked the Cousland in his usual fashion, “I can’t believe you would think that I would come after you after so long, I have changed and he is right, you  are sick” spoke Leliana looking at Marjolaine with a sympathetic eye.
 
  “Ah but you have not changed, I still see the love in you’re eyes for our game, the thrill you tasted, it’s a euphoria you know that you cannot deny, and to you’re smart mouthed friend, she will use you, she may seem like a friend but she is a beautiful actor” spoke Marjolaine in a dark and severe tone.
 
  The Cousland glanced at Leliana who seemed somewhat disgusted  by the Raven Haired Bard’s words, “I trust Leliana, far too much to care what you say” spoke Drezdin in a defiant tone, “thank you Drezdin, Marjolaine I wish to have nothing more to do with you, I want you out of my life now leave this place and me alone” commanded Leliana.
 
  “Very well Leliana, I will not tempt faith by entering a conflict when I’ am outnumbered, but I or you’re guilty pleasures will never be out of you‘re life Leliana, and I will not be out of yours long Warden” spoke Marjolaine as she gestured them to move aside, the Cousland obliging with Leliana, standing between the two Bards.

  And it was an unnerving moment in which Marjolaine parted,  venomous glances her the opposing sides parting gifts as she shut the door behind her, “she is gone, what she said must be a lie, this has to be over” Leliana muttered as Drezdin lent her a gentle eye, “are you alright?” asked the Cousland as Leliana donned a tender smile, “yes, I just need some time alone to think, I-I’ll meet you at the gates” spoke Leliana briefly as she too left.

  The Cousland left alone with his only remaining task to pick up his equipment from the Blacksmith, however taking a moment to reminisce of the situations he found himself in throughout the capital, “this city really needs a better class of Guards, maybe they should start contracted Elf ” Drezdin thought out loud as he departed the building, and started his trek to Master Wade’s Smithy.
 
   *******()*******     

  The dusk breeze that filled the nearly vacant square touched ever nook and corner spare the Blacksmith, the heat of the forges flame acting as a constant hearth, and it was this warmth that Drezdin felt, entering the Smithy for the second time in just a few hours.
 
  The curious eye of Herren was still lukewarm to the Cousland, a displeased tone to his voice as he called out to Wade, “you’re favorite customer is back” spoke the man in a sardonic tone as Wade sprung out with a gleeful smile, “my fine fellow I have good news for you” spoke the Master Smith as he cleaned the sweat from his  face with a cloth.
 
  The Cousland looked on with a content look, “so I’m guessing my armor is patched up?” asked Drezdin, “that excuse for splintmail, no my dear boy it is not even fit to be melted down for scrap” spoke Wade in a gleeful tone, as Drezdin’s face turned sullen.
 
  “And you did what with it exactly?” asked Drezdin with a stressful sigh, “it doesn’t matter what I did with it, but what I’ve made before it, you see my Noble friend, you are not the only Cousland to enter my Smithy, show him Herren” replied Wade pointing over to Herren who sighed as he pulled out their book of clients.
 
  “Here one Bryce Cousland made a contract for the finest custom armor” spoke Herren flipping around the book on the counter and showing it to Drezdin, “and what a contract he made, he wanted only the most perfect set of armor for his youngest sons birthday” spoke Wade with a wide smile as Herren just face palmed himself.
 
  Drezdin looked on in disbelief trying to remember any of his Late Father’s recent trips to the capital, “this is a coincidence, the day of my birth is only a few days from now” remarked Drezdin crossing his arms as he took in the situation, “really, well I wouldn’t say this was the best timing, he wanted this ready for you’re birthday, two years ago” murmured Wade casually.
 
  “Yes, but you’re father made the mistake of agreeing to grant Wade all the time he needed, a big no no” spoke Herren  slightly stressed, “well I finished it weeks ago, and I sent word to you’re Father that it was ready, but I guess there is an explanation, but that is for another day, I have a masterpiece to show you” spoke Wade as he walked to the back of the forge gesturing for the Cousland to follow.
 
  And  all the hype that was made of Wade’s artistry seemed to be true, sitting upon a simple wooden mannequin was a slim charcoal colored suit of armor, its black color accentuated by the gold designs that ornately adjourned most of the armors trim, the shoulder pieces the only true exception.
  
  “You’re father said I was to make the perfect armor for his Boy, and I can confidently say this is damn near it, now let us get it on you and see if it fits” spoke Wade as he took piece by piece off the wooden stand, helping the awestruck Cousland handing him the pieces, staring with the cuirass.
 
  And it took only a few moments for Drezdin to strap and set every section of the form fitting armor spare the helmet upon him, affectionately touching the engraved  emblem of his  family on the backhand of the glove, and  taking the time to admire the golden trimmed knuckle guards and the pitch black metal that covered the top of his fingers.
 
  “How much did my Father pay you for this?” asked Drezdin still admiring every detail of his new attire, “a healthy amount, however I started to think you’re father just wanted a practical set, but with the money he paid, I believed it should be more than just a suit, it’s a gift” spoke Wade circling the Cousland studying the armor for any kinks.

  The Cousland took a moment to move and test the flexibility of the armor, its light weight granting the freedom of motion Drezdin desired, bringing back memories of his carefree past in Highever “this is, I don’t have words for this just, thank you” spoke Drezdin in grateful tone as Wade stood with a grin, “I should thank you and you’re father, for giving me the time to truly be inspired and make an armor that is strong and of little weight, and by the way I fixed you’re sword, its over on the counter and don‘t forget the helmet” spoke Wade pointing to Herren.

  Drezdin picked the helmet off the wooden mannequin before he nodded Wade goodbye as he approached Herren who held the sheathed sword with a stressed gaze, the Cousland taking the sword and the empty sack that he left their earlier, “I believe that I owe you” spoke Drezdin as he left his pouch of coins on the counter for the clerk, “thanks” spoke Herren with a sigh as Wade yelled from the forge.

  “Herren cancel tomorrows orders, I have to get started on the bag of Drake Scales he left us!” spoke Wade as Herren just slumped into his arms leaning against the counter.

 
  Meanwhile………

  The sun was soon to be nothing more than a memory of the day as Alistair hesitantly stood at the door of his supposed sister’s home, a nervous sigh left Alistair’s lips before the Templar looked from side to side with a look as though he were about to commit a crime against humanity.

  And it was just at this moment that he noticed a familiar face step out the building next door, his fellow Warden however in armor Alistair was unfamiliar with, “Drezdin?” exclaimed Alistair with a curious gaze at the Cousland  looking  in awe of the armor he was wearing, “Alistair?” the reply as Drezdin collected himself.
 
  Alistair was in shock with the fact that the man was Drezdin, “yes, uh you were not wearing that when we got here, have you been haggling?” asked Alistair in a playful tone, “possibly, now have you found you’re sister  yet, and where‘s Zevran?” was Drezdin’s response, “well you see I left him with Bodahn and Sten, and now I’m standing in front of my sister’s house” spoke Alistair hesitantly.
 
  The Cousland grinned as he approached the door Alistair was staring at, “well lets see if she’s home” spoke Drezdin about to knock on the door, “wai……” was all Alistair could mutter before the knocking began, an almost instant answer.

  The door was swung open as a woman of a petit build poked her head out with an unimpressed look, “so what’ll it be, its ten copper for a batch of laundry, and do not take it to Vivian, she may be open later than me, but she’s a crook” spoke the Woman as Alistair looked on with a nervous smile as he replied.
 
  “Um we’re not here for laundry, Goldanna  I-I’m you’re brother, Alistair” spoke the Templar as the woman looked almost disgusted, “do I look stupid to you?” spoke the skeptical woman, “He’s telling the truth” added Drezdin in his usual manner.
 
  “No, no you can’t be the child, the folks at the Castle say you and mother were dead before they lent me a sovereign and that didn‘t last” spat the Woman in a bitter tone, “Goldanna, I didn’t know, I-I just” muttered Alistair painfully, “you just what?  Wanted to come and bond with you’re half sister, I don’t know you, all you’ve done for me is take my mother away, and I’ve got five mouths to feed, so unless you need laundry done I’ve got no business with a Bastard  child” spoke the scornful woman.

  Drezdin looked at her with a sullen eye, “and you think  you’re sorrow is his fault?” spoke the Cousland in a calm and venomous tone, “and who might this pompous fool be?” spat back the Woman, “HEY!  Do not speak to my friend like that, he is a Warden just like me and he is not pompous” spoke Alistair in angry manner.

  “Oh two Wardens, should I get on the ground and tremble with crippling fear, I have no time for this, I have a family to care for and the two of you are just strangers” spoke the Woman as she went to close the door, Alistair lodging his foot in between it to halt her, “please, I-I could be coming into some higher level of authority, and I promise you that I will do what I can to help you” spoke Alistair with a morose voice.

  Goldanna nearly sneering at him, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll believe it when I see it” spoke the Woman before pushing Alistair back and slamming the door.
 
  Leaving the Templar with a long and sorrowful voice, “are you alright?” asked Drezdin placing a hand on his fellow Warden’s shoulder, “I thought if I met her, that she would accept me and I could actually meet my family, I thought that was what family did, or ’am I just foolish” spoke Alistair in lost tone.

 The Cousland looking at his Brother in Arms with a sympathetic eye, “you’re not foolish Alistair, and family is not just about blood” spoke Drezdin in a reassuring tone as Alistair looked at him skeptically, “this is always how it is though, I’m just a Bastard to most people the only person to really care about me was Duncan, and now he’s dead” spoke the Templar in sorrowful tone.

  “That’s a bloody lie, Duncan’s not the only one that cared, and he won’t be the last, and I think you should know that I believe you are as much a Brother to me as anyone could be” spoke Drezdin with a warm smirk, “thanks Drezdin, does this mean that we can look past the awkward hug rule just this once” replied Alistair with a joy in his voice again.
 
  Drezdin replied with a straight face, “no, but you can cook tonight, whatever you want” spoke Drezdin as he pulled a pan from his satchel and handed it to the Templar before casually walking off, Alistair taking a moment to examine the suspicious frying implement.

  “Is this blood?  And why are there dents in it?  By the Maker’s breath what were you up to today?” asked Alistair in a frantic and perplexed posture as the Cousland marched off, their visit to Denerim finally over.

  ********()*******

        
  Author’s Note:
  And its finally here, this was a joy to write  despite my creative spark being dragged in two different directions, but I hope everyone enjoys the read, fore I enjoyed writing it.
  Also I’d like to say that Marjolaine is certainly not gone, but it will be a long time until she pops up again, a long time.
  
  P.S. I‘d also like to thank my friends who read and inspire me to write, thank you.
 
  Thanks For Reading,  Slim Warden.

Modifié par Slim Warden, 06 juillet 2010 - 11:52 .

[LadyAly]

I have enjoyed it very much Slim
For my Part my Characters mostly kill Marjolaine *lol*
Maybe its the fact I can't stand her.

Anyway - excellent stuff - thanks for writing !

Modifié par LadyAly, 06 juillet 2010 - 08:23 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

Okay so many things to love! The Drez getting that fantastic armor, the barroom brawl, Goldana (see dictionary of Ferelden language, definition: Gold digging b****). And the end with the frying pan and Ali? OMG! I was at work and everyone was looking to see why I was laughing. Great job Slim!

[Slim Warden]

     (Chapter 18: Strange Camp  Fellows)

  The northern roads of Denerim were cold and damp, the winded that drafted miles inland down from the waking sea to the north  a  constant reminder of the watery divide from the northern countries such as the Anderfels, Antiva and many others.
 
  It had been less than a day since Drezdin and Co’ left Denerim, and only a few hours had passed since they broke camp, leaving behind the encampment that they had formed at least a mile west of the capital, starting the days trek on a adequate breakfast made by Alistair, before starting they‘re journey to Haven, and Arl Eamon‘s possible salvation.
 
  And the  sound of marching feet meeting the soft dirt became all too familiar to Drezdin throughout the day, but as the morning led into the afternoon the sounds became more spread out as odd intervals were formed, the harsh conditions of cold wind and soft ground to blame for some falling tad behind the pace.
 
  A glance back revealed to Drezdin the shape of his Posse, most of the group was just barely out of earshot, while the closest to follow him were Leliana and Caesar, the Mabari finally working out of his system that afternoon whatever he had eaten from Morrigan and Wynne’s herb collection .

  However what ailed Leliana was something more poisonous, a searching look to her face as she seemed to gaze into nothingness, her expression implying that she was wandering through every corner of her mind, paying no attention to the trees and pastures at either side of the road, her usual gleeful humming muted.
 
  And as if she were entranced Leliana walked with a steady pace, a pace that Drezdin matched as he slid beside her, his eyes lit with a concerned aura, “Leliana?” spoke Drezdin as the Rogue seemed to snap back to reality, “oh, did you need something?” replied Leliana casually.
 
  The creaking of Bodahn’s cart echoed as Drezdin spoke, “you haven’t spoken a word since we left Denerim, that’s not unusual for you” remarked the Displaced Noble, “I-I’m well, its just that there is a lot on my mind” replied Leliana apprehensively.

  “Anything you care to divulge?” remarked Drezdin his walking posture and tone inquisitive, “I keep seeing Marjolaine in my head, and I can’t shake what happened, that she would still want me dead after so long, and that she only had love for me when I was her pawn and now that I’ am not I must die, maybe she never loved me, and maybe I never truly understood how wicked she really  was” spilled Leliana her voice calm but rather perturbed.

  The conversation suddenly caught the attention of a voyeur other than Caesar , the Witch of The Wild who was just within earshot as the Cousland replied, “people like Marjolaine are just disturbed Leliana, and she’s of the same breed as the man I called Uncle for twenty odd years” spoke Drezdin a small recollection of Arl Howe popping up in his head.
  
    “But you don’t understand Drezdin, she is cruel and manipulative, using people until they are just husks to be tossed away and replaced by the next, the life she led twisted her, and maybe she was right about me, what if I’ am next”  spoke a distraught Leliana as the Cousland looked at her with concern.
 
  “You’re a better person than Marjolaine, and I don‘t see you turning into a succubus out of the blue” spoke Drezdin a concern grown from empathy for Leliana, their betrayals so different yet so alike, the difference being that the Cousland felt no mercy for Howe , “but what if you are wrong?  When we were being stalked in Denerim I felt invigorated, it lit a spark in me, and I felt myself receding, I even felt regret letting Marjolaine live knowing how dangerous she can be to us” spoke Leliana a solemn tone as her step seemed to slow.
 
  Drezdin sighed as he glanced up at the late afternoon  sky, the departing sun’s retreat covered by many clouds, “personally I wouldn‘t have shown her mercy, but you did and that makes you a better soul than I, and you‘re not the only one to taste betrayal, you don‘t need to be alone in that respect” spoke the Cousland in a reassuring dialect.
  
     “Drezdin I was, I still remember how alone I felt when Marjolaine left me for dead, I had no place of my own and I knew of only one place that would take me, but I just don’t know if I can trust myself or if anything I believe in is real anymore, what if I really am’ the same as Marjolaine says and  I’m just fantasizing that I’ve changed” spoke the Minstrel uncertainty ringing through her voice.
  
   The Cousland looked at Leliana with a sympathetic expression, “Marjolaine is evil without remorse, and you are no Marjolaine,  do not let her poison taint the beauty I see in you, the virtue and grace that looms within you’re eyes,  I have faith in who you are, and for the sake of the group you have to  now believe in yourself fore they need you, and I think I need you too” spoke Drezdin his eyes meeting Leliana’s  with a warm gaze.

  Leliana was silent for a ponderous minute before she started to smile gently gazing back at Drezdin, their constant walk continuing, “thank you, I guess I needed someone to show me the way , no?” spoke Leliana her usual optimism slowly reemerging as Drezdin smiled with a job well done, but the moment was short lived.

   “Warden I would enquire a moment of you‘re time, it is getting rather tiring this march and it would it not be most beneficial if we were all to have some time to ourselves away from the road? ”  spoke Morrigan donning a strange and disapproving face for Leliana, the Witch having eavesdropped on the conversation, non so pleased by it, or the ramifications it may have on whether or not she would be saved from her mother.
 
  Drezdin looked back at Morrigan with a quizzical look, “having sympathy for others Morrigan, are you feeling well?” jestingly spoke the Cousland before giving the order to set up camp, the night creeping upon them.

     ********()********

   The camp fire had just been spawned  as the chirps of crickets echoed through the air of the newborn night, the melody ringing along the tree line that surrounded the camp placed as always a safe distance from the roads and any possible patrols, and there was much activity within the camp whether it be Shale standing ominously with a disinterested look at, or Alistair, Zevran, Caesar and Drezdin gathered round the camp fire.

  Even Wynne was active as she browsed through a handful of books Bodahn and sandal had traded for in Denerim,  and just along the camp’s grassy border stood Sten, his constant vigil second nature to the Qunari bred to be a warrior.
 
   But it was also along the tree line that Leliana was readying her tent, unrolling her bedroll within before placing her pack in the dry confines of the fabric shelter, the Minstrel slipping out to be greeted by the sound of a loud conversation.
 
  Peeking past her tent to see Alistair telling Drezdin of his misadventures with Zevran when they were in Denerim, the words “Brothel” and “Mercenaries” being the most memorable to Leliana’s curious ear while she continued to look on, Zevran shaking his head in response to Alistiar as if he failed a mission, and finally tenderly glancing at the Cousland who looked like he was entertained by Alistair‘s rant.
 
  But Leliana would not stand alone as the only observer for long as another Companion had crept to her side, “my, my you look as though you’ve never seen a Warden before let alone a man, such affection filled eyes you possess” spoke Morrigan who stood at the opposite end of Leliana’s tent.
 
  The Rogue turned her eyes to the Witch, a dour glint to her eyes, “I do not believe where I happen to gaze concerns you” replied Leliana with a calm voice, “no need to be defensive poor girl, I’ am only here to warn you” spoke Morrigan circling the tent and Leliana.
 
  “And what would you be warning me about?” asked Leliana cautiously curious of Morrigan’s agenda, “our de facto leader of course Leliana, the one you spoke so gingerly with earlier today” spoke the Apostate in a deviously friendly manner, “and what would you be warning me about him for?” asked the Minstrel perplexed.

  Morrigan simply chuckled with sadistic glee, “because girls like you do not understand the type of man he is, and I highly doubt that you will prove me wrong” spoke the Witch with a sinister smirk, “and I should expect you to know what type of man he is?  I can hardly believe that you would take the time to learn”  spoke Leliana defensively as Sten walked past them without paying notice.
  
  “Ah I know enough to see he is using you, for all of you’re sincerity and concern you have for him, its depressing to see that you are just another pawn to his game” spoke Morrigan in cold and poisonous demeanor, “you are lying Morrigan, you are just sore that he is no longer under you’re spell” retorted Leliana with her best tact. 
       
  The Witch of The Wilds still smirked while she shrugged off Leliana’s response, “you don’t believe me?  Look at him, how many women do you think he has charmed before you, used and manipulated their emotions and trust for his own satisfaction, only to leave them broken before he moves on” spoke Morrigan gesturing the Rogue to glance at their group’s leader who was now listening to Zevran‘s interpretation of Denerim.
 
  “No, you are wrong about him,  just because you believe everyone is selfish and self serving does not mean its true” spoke Leliana  defiantly as she went along with the gesture, “oh but I’ am not wrong about him, he cares not for you , he cares only for the idea of you, the lust of it” spoke Morrigan as Leliana just stared silently at the Cousland with doubt.
 
  Morrigan slipped behind the Minstrel, placing her hands on Leliana’s shoulders as if to massage her plans into her skin, “he is no different than any other exploitive mind you’ve spent you’re time believing , the only difference being the facades they hide behind” whispered the Apostate as Leliana’s face turned rather riled by the situation.

  Meanwhile……..
 
  The crackling of the campfire the Warden’s and Zevran sat around could do nothing to mute the conversation that  was taking place, “you could’ve sent anyone with me to Denerim and you chose him?” spoke Alistair pointing at the Antivan Crow while the Templar was tending to a dinghy grey stew he was cooking over the fire.

  “I was only trying to help you my nervy  Initiate, I saw a man in need of a momentary escape, and I thought my plan to be in you’re best  interest” spoke Zevran with a relaxed tone, “well my best interests don’t involve bloody brawls in Brothels, or at least I don‘t think they do, do they?” replied Alistair adjusting his posture while he sat.

  Drezdin glanced at both of his campfire compatriots before speaking, “possibly not, but think of this way, you two got an entertaining little tale out of you’re escapades” spoke the Displaced Noble with a grin, “yippee for us, but if I recall correctly you had some escapades of your own, speaking of which where did you put that armor you received?”  asked  the Templar looking around the casually dressed Cousland as he stirred the pot.
 
  “Nothing really of notoriety, and the armor I placed it in my tent for when we leave in the morning” replied the Cousland in a usual for him manner, “I have to say I quite liked the look of it on you, not that you look any less charming without it Warden” spoke  Zevran in an odd tone that perplexed the Cousland and Alistair, “please don‘t send me on another mission with him, I‘d rather spend the day at  the weekly stoning with Morrigan and her Mother” begged Alistair looking at the Elf with a distrusting eye.

  The Cousland looked at Alistair with a calm look, “Alistair, you do realize that you‘d most likely be the one getting pummeled with stones?” replied Drezdin in a nonchalant tone, “right, well I guess you‘re not that bad Zevran, but I don’t know if I’d call you good, maybe bad-ish?” spoke Alistair pondering the statement.

  “Well I never claimed to be good, but I’m grateful that you believe me not that bad, compared to others, and speaking of others” replied Zevran as he glanced from the corner of his eye yards and yards away over to Leliana and Morrigan, Drezdin and Alistair following suit the trio inconspicuously watching as the Witch stepped behind the Rogue silently speaking.
 
  Drezdin’s grew justifiably suspicious of what Morrigan was doing chatting with Leliana, “I’m pretty certain that’s a bad thing” spoke the Cousland as Alistair just nodded taking a taste of his stew, “ a bit bland, but back to the topic anything Morrigan does is bad” spoke the Templar after swallowing a taste of the stew made of Lamb that Bodahn provided.

  The Cousland watched with a subtle posture before gesturing Zevran over to his side, “I’ve got a task for you Zevran, think you can deliver a message to our beautiful Witch friend?” asked Drezdin confident the Elf would oblige, and so Zevran did  grinning as he stepped aside Drezdin and received the whispered instructions.

   And  a purposeful Zevran was off in the Apostates direction, leaving Drezdin patient for events to unravel and Alistair confused “What is he about to do?” asked Alistair failing to listen in on the small exchange, “he’s just reminding Morrigan of a little deal we have,  just in case she’s forgotten” spoke the Cousland with a scheming eye, watching as his Messenger neared the Witch.
 
  ********()********
 
  There was a shrug of shoulders as Leliana brushed Morrigan’s cold hands off, “I will not hear anymore of this, you are wretched” spat the Minstrel, refusing the Witch’s words, “oh but you will, he will be done with you eventually, and even if he is to pay mind to you, he will be thinking of me” spoke Morrigan with a self assured smirk.

  However before a riled Leliana could respond a certain Elf interrupted the conversation, “I trust that two lovely flowers as yourselves are getting along” greeted Zevran in very complimentary fashion, “what do you want Elf?” asked Morrigan venomously as Leliana just crossed her arms and looked away from the Witch.

  “Well I have a message for you beautiful woman” replied Zevran with charm, “well I have no time for it, can you not see we’re busy” spoke Morrigan pointing to the Minstrel who now refused to acknowledge her, “ah but I believe you will have to make time, it is from our favorite Warden” said the Antivan with a victorious grin as the Witch looked on curiously.

  “And why would he not speak to me in person?” asked the Apostate suspiciously, “well my dear, he believed it more entertaining this way” spoke the Elf certainly reveling in his task while Morrigan sighed “very well then, what ‘tis the message?” asked the Witch.
 
  Zevran cleared his throat right before he proceeded to speak, “the Warden would like to let you know, that you should not attempt to manipulate him or those around him, especially if its out of fear he will not save you from a terrible fate, he already gave you his word, and he will keep it even if you are not the sweetest apple of the bunch” explained the Antivan, leaving Morrigan slightly shocked.
  
   “Be gone Elf, you know not what you speak of” replied the Witch slightly derailed by this exposure of agendas, “or does he, is that why you are saying the things you’ve said, because you fear that if he gets close to me he will forget about you, and some promise?” pried Leliana the shoe now on the other foot as Zevran just watched.
 
  Morrigan looked a bit rattled for a second  before gathering herself, “does it matter now Leliana, it seems that he has sway over you that I cannot abolish” spoke the Apostate still confident of herself, “it’s not that he has sway, its that you’re words are never sincere and always have an ulterior motive, now what exactly is you‘re motive Morrigan?” asked the Rogue curiously.

  “My motives?   if what Zevran says is true I have nothing to worry about, and you need not worry about my motives either, they will certainly not affect you’re relations with the Warden” spoke Morrigan in a skeptical and venomous tone, “and I can be certain of that?” asked Leliana suspiciously.
  
   “ Of this motive yes, but that does not mean there are not others” spoke the Apostate ominously as she trudged off,  Leliana just shaking her comments, placing her faith in the Warden as Zevran stood curiously near.

  “I wonder, should I ask if her motives involve me?” Zevran asked himself, his palm placed on his chin, Leliana just sighing as she went back to readying her tent for the night.
 
   Meanwhile…….

   Drezdin watched with a victorious smirk as Morrigan walked away from Leliana’s tent, meeting Morrigan’s poisonous passing glance with the constant grin of victory, “Warden, what are you doing?” asked the wizened voice of Wynne who sat next to Alistair who was frantically trying to salvage the now mushy substance that once passed as stew.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” replied the Cousland proud of his personal victory, “it appears to me that you are getting entangled with you’re companions, much more than a Warden should” advised Wynne as Shale added a two sense from a distance,  “well I find it rather entertaining, how you fleshy creatures always revel in such drama” spoke the Golem opposed to Wynne.

  The Displaced Noble looked at Wynne curiously, “and how entangled should a Warden be pray tell?” was the Cousland’s response, “only enough that he does not blind his sense of duty with biasness” again advised the Elder Enchantress.
   
  “I think we both know how I feel about my duty, and you must understand that group dynamics, usually involves entanglement” responded Drezdin nonchalantly, “I will just hope that the dynamics do not morph into something malformed and out of control” spoke Wynne as a loud bubbling noise was heard from the stew pot.
 
  “This isn’t working, Wynne could you please help my stew’s dynamics” whined Alistair as he stared at the bland mixture of ingredients that was staring back at him, “I’m sorry Alistair but I doubt even magic could save that” replied Wynne regretfully before turning her attention back to the Cousland, “just be wary that you do not cause more harm than good warden” advised the Elder Enchantress.
 
  The Cousland sighed  as he glanced at Wynne and then the pot of  what should’ve been lamb stew, “don’t worry Wynne, I can handle things, now what do we do about Alistair’s stew?” asked Drezdin curiously, “well it would be a shame to put it to waste, I mean its not going to get  worse, or better” spoke the Templar as he tried to pour some into a bowl.
 
  “This is why I enjoy not having a need for such things as food” spoke Shale as the makeshift dinner was distributed around to a lukewarm response from most, spare Sten who just really didn’t care.
 
  ********()*********     

  The constant crackle of the campfire was the lonely noise echoing through the camp as Drezdin sat at the mouth of his tent, organizing his pack while Caesar sat next to him ponderously gazing at a serving of “lamb stew” the Mabari fiddling at it with his paw.

  “Caesar don’t play with you’re food, I had to eat it” spoke the Cousland as he shifted around the contents of his satchel, Caesar just whined as he pushed the food away with his snout, “its been two hours, you can’t just let it sit there it‘ll spoil, wait you want that to happen don‘t you?” asked Drezdin suspiciously, Caeasar just nodding his head in gleeful compliance.

  A sigh left Drezdin’s lips as he pushed his pack back inside his tent, preparing to settle in as everyone else had, well everyone except for Shale who stood there ominously as watch guard, but Shale was not the only one as Drezdin would find out, her approach swift and silent,   “Drezdin, can we talk for a moment?” asked Leliana standing beside the Cousland’s camp.
 
  “Why not?” replied the Cousland as Leliana gestured for him to follow her, “in private” spoke the Rogue walking off, Drezdin quickly bounced to his feet to follow, but not before dissuading Caesar who was eager  to accompany him, “no boy, you stay here and finish you’re food” ordered Drezdin as he walked off in compliance, the Mabari letting out a whine as he sat in front of the tent.

   However Caesar was not the only one to notice the duo walking towards the tree line under moonlit sky, the Antivan Zevran peeked out from his tent, watching the two walk off before looking over to Alistair’s tent with a plan.

  It took only a moment for Leliana to lead Drezdin past the first row of trees, the shadows of the night surrounding the small moonlit clearance in the trees, “so you got me out here, what do you want to talk about?” asked the curious Couslaand.
 
  “Well there are a few things, but I would just like to know what exactly you’ve promised Morrigan?” asked Leliana curiously as she stood in the center of the grassy clearance, “she’s having issues with her mother and I volunteered how should I put this, arbitrate” replied the matter of fact Noble as he stood still in front of her.
 
  “Oh, is it something serious?” asked the Rogue in modest concern,  “not at the moment it isn’t” replied Drezdin looking to push that subject away, “well I hope Morrigan’s sake you resolve it, even in spite of how wretched she can be, did you know that she was trying to make you out to be like a Marjolaine?” spoke Leliana slightly bothered by the thought of her earlier chat with the Witch.
 
  “And what do you make of me?” asked Drezdin with a curious smirk, “well I see similar traits within you‘re mannerisms, a love of mischief,  but I also see honesty and morality that she never possessed, and I don‘t believe you will ever be corrupted as she was, I won‘t let you” spoke the Bard sincerely.
 
  “I take it you look at me favorably then?” again asked the curiously smirking Cousland inching closer to the Rogue, “I do , you are not just our leader, you are someone who I’ve come to trust, someone who’s seen my flaws and past, and I-I’ve come to care for you, more than I could say in words, and I think and hope that you feel the same” spoke Leliana as she looked down and started fiddling with her fingers, Drezdin’s smirk disappearing as a vulnerable expression dressed his face.
 
  “Leliana, you think right, and you’re past and whatever flaw you possess just makes you a perfect truth” softly spoke the struck Cousland, smoothly closing the distance between him and Leliana, tenderly sliding his fingers down her cheek, Leliana lifting her head as they’re eyes met with a fiery spark.
 
  And it took only a hard pounding second before the two drew they’re lips closer together, an anxious wind in the air as the Cousland  slowly slid his hands around her, and she wrapped her hands around him, but it was when they’re lips collided in a euphoric bang that her gentle grasp pulled him into a loving vice grip nearly throwing them both off balance, the culmination of a patient build enrapturing them.
  
    But as the kiss broke and the two stood there with there eyes still entangled and there foreheads gently pressed together, “you know there’s still a blight coming?” whispered Drezdin as Leliana just seductively smiled, “umm hmm” was Leliana’s soft response, still lost in the moment, “just thought I should remind you” muttered Drezdin as they’re lips met for an encore.

  Meanwhile…….
  
   The rusting leaves of the bush that sat a fair distance from Drezdin and Leliana could’ve been attributed to a slight breeze, but for those who knew better it was the shimmying of Zevran who had convinced Alistair to accompany  him to spy on their fellow Companions.

  “I can’t believe you conned me out of a goodnights to do this” spoke Alistair grumpily refusing to watch what Zevran was, “alas my friend, you have no sense of risk or adventure, just take a look, even just  a little tiny peek” ordered the Antivan as Alistair sighed, “they’re probably just talking…….” spoke Alistair before he peeked over the brush and was shocked by the sight.

  “By the Maker he’s kissing her, this an invasion of privacy” whispered the Templar frantically, “nonsense my friend, ask yourself this question, do we really have anything better to do at the moment?” asked the Elf curiously, as Alistair just looked on, “well there’s stopping the blight or saving Arl Eamon” responded the Templar.

  “Well we are at camp, we have halted all travel for the day, I see no reason why we cannot have but a moment to enjoy the enticing actions of our compatriots” argued Zevran as they continued on as a pair of voyeurs, “I guess you have a point, not a particularly strong one, but a point none the least” muttered Alistair in compliance.

  “So well uh,  forty silver they’re romance lasts a month” betted the Antivan calmly as Alistair looked over to the Elf and freaked out, “no, I will not bet on the happiness of my fellow Warden” spoke Alistair defiantly, “fifty silver and a shut up for a day” responded Zevran confidently, “make it a week and  we have a deal”  spoke Alistair not going to miss out on this opportunity.
 
  “Very well, but if they break up before thirty days have passed, we will finish what we started in Denerim” spoke Zevran with a smile as footsteps were heard behind them, “what are you two doing?” asked the strong voice of Sten, “us?  Well we are just um, enjoying the sanctity of nature” spoke Alistair unconvincingly as Sten gazed past the brush and saw Drezdin and Leliana still standing there.
 
  “You two are idiots” spoke the Qunari sullenly crossing his arms, “well we’re currently betting on the longevity of they’re relations, care to join in?” asked Zevran with a smile, “No” replied Sten, “sixty silver pieces” offered the Elf with brow raised, causing the Qunari to look at the Cousland and rogue with a studying look from their distance.

  “Ten days, and if I’m correct you two will take over the night watch” bluntly declared Sten before walking off to the camp, Zevran and Alistair just sighing as they went back to their spying, “where did they go?” asked Alistair losing sight of them, “I see them and they’re heading back to camp, and I believe they are heading they’re separate ways tonight,  so disappointing” remarked Zevran as he witnessed the Cousland and Minstrel part ways at the edge of the camp.
 
  The Duo of Alistair and Zevran knowing that they too should head to their respective tents, a long and difficult journey to Haven awaiting them.
 
  *******()*******   
  
  
  Author’s Note:
  So after about five days of writing, listening to every Coldplay album I own, and watching a world cup final (alas my poor Holland, you were so close yet so far)  I’ am finally finished with chapter 18. 
  And I hope that its enjoyable enough, I may have put a Monty Python reference somewhere in there, just like I might have spilt the romance bottle in there as well, with just a little dash of extra humor just to help balance the whole romancey stuff.  
 
    Thanks For Reading, Slim Warden.

Modifié par Slim Warden, 12 juillet 2010 - 01:09 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

LOVE it Slim! That last bit with Sten was priceless! YAY, got my Drez fix.

[LadyAly]

Priceless ;P

Zevran, Alistair and Sten !!

You made my day Slim

[westiex9]

Nothing like Camp intrigues to get the blood running! also i love Sten!

[Slim Warden]

  (Chapter 19: My Blood And My Brother)
 
  The northern stretches of Fereldan were drenched in a constant drizzle, a soft and vexing gift from the heavens that drifted along a mud covered road and the forestry at it’s flanks in a melodic sequence, oblivious to the handful that traversed this unpopular side road of the north.
 
  The draining presence of rain was mixed with the smell of death, the rugged steps of tired soldiers, “Briggins……..where’s Briggin’s?” muttered a shambled figure reaching towards one of the men carrying him on a makeshift stretcher, “he’s dead captain, you were there when his head and body ceased to accompany each other” replied the tall and weary man who tightly grasped the stretcher his Captain rested upon, following the lead of his equally weary compatriot.
 
  “Corporal Ross?  How much longer ’til we find a patrol?” asked hopelessly the Chain mail donning Soldier at the front of the stretcher, “I don’t know Arthur, but we have to keep moving in case we’re being pursued” replied Ross, his long brown hair than run down the scarred face of the career soldier was drenched in rain, sweat, and the blood of his fallen comrades.

  “Ross, Murray keeps coughing blood” said their distraught companion marching at they’re side, his head wrapped in a bandage that covered his shaved head and a bleeding eye socket, barely holding his own weight as he struggled to lend a shoulder to Murray who had suffered an arrow straight to his heel, rupturing the tendon the frail young Murray also suffering a war hammer blow to the chest.
 
  “Drake just keep him calm, we‘ll find something soon,  we cannot lose anyone else” ordered Ross with strength, the Corporal suffering an ache in every limb, his heavy mail making each step more taxing than the next, “Ross how did this happen, the entire Company taken by surprise, how did we not see it coming?” asked Arthur at the front of the stretcher, his face hidden by a helmet of pragmatic design.

  Ross looked around at the remnants of a Unit once thirty strong, his eye lingering on they’re  butchered Captain Mulgrew, his face raw with gashes that seemed to trace his flesh, and armor from top to bottom, a bloody shell of the commander the rest of the group had come to follow and respect for the last two months, while Ross had served under his command for years “they must’ve known we were coming, someone must’ve divulged information about our patrol routes” spoke the Corporal in a grim tone.

  “Or maybe they……..just got…..lucky and…….guessed” gurgled the lighthearted Murray his left arm wrapped around Drake for support while his right was placed on his horrifically bruised chest, Murray just like most of them, a willing volunteer for Loghain‘s army, the same went for Arthur, and Drake “don’t talk my friend, you don‘t want to exert yourself” spoke Drake with concern as Ross sighed remorsefully, the Company marching on, leaving a trail of blood and woe behind them.
 
  The group of distraught Soldiers kept they‘re weary step pressed continuing forward through the light rain   but things can only get worse before the sun breaks the clouds, and it was not to long until they heard the familiar light steps of a man in leather shielding, his short blonde hair catching the air as he ran at them with pace, “ROSS! I spotted a group heading our way” declared the slim and short Blonde Figure who Ross had sent ahead to scout.

  “Well spit it out William, are they of our colors?” asked the Corporal, the highest ranking below the incoherent Captain  “they are  not of our Regent’s divisions,  there are however eleven strong not including they’re lone Mabari, they are also of mixed company but they look formidable” spoke the volunteered William in a business like tone, his words not the only tool of communication as he made many signs only recognizable to  hunters, and just aggravating to Arthur.

  “Can you stop flailing you‘re hands about like a bleeding Mage, we‘re in a bloody mess” replied a fed up Arthur nearly dropping the stretcher and Captain Mulgrew, “we can’t out run them, maybe we can hide?” suggested Drake the sharpshooter of the group as he held up the now wheezing Murray, “no, they have a Mabari it’ll just sniff us out, William did they see you and do you know how long until they are upon us?” asked Ross taking charge of the moment.

  “No they did not, but they’ll be upon us in less than ten minutes” spoke the calm William as he counted upon his fingers the time it took to run back to his Company’s side “Arthur help me get Mulgrew into the brush, and Drake you take Murray and you hide along the southern end  and hunker down behind those hedges with you‘re crossbow” commanded Ross as Arthur and Him  placed Mulgrew who was ever so slowly drifting away behind as much of the damp foliage as possible.

  “And what will I do if they attack?” asked Drake ponderously as he began the slow process of positioning himself and Murray out of sight, “hopefully we can reason with them and that won’t happen, but if they do we steel ourselves” answered Corporal Ross as he walked from Mulgrew and assisted Drake, grasping onto the Sharpshooters crossbow and looking him dead in the eye.
 
  And as Ross left Drake to hide himself and Murray he approached the small roads center, forming a line made up of Arthur, William and himself, with little choice but to confront the Party approaching, “William these are actual people not just the usual mange covered animals you‘re used to“ quipped Arthur towards the group‘s scout
 
  “Shut it Arthur I can see them“ ordered Ross in the strongest tone he could muster standing up for the often stoic William, while the group the  scout spotted came into sight.
 
  ********()********
   
   There was a still and tense moment as the formidable Troupe approached, a cart at its center being hulled by a large stone figure, “you could’ve warned us they’ve some magic leviathan” whispered Arthur harshly towards William, “I told you there were eleven, and that they were formidable, I thought that summed it up” responded William in a respectable murmur. 
 
  But it was Ross who stayed quiet as the Troupe caught sight of them, halting at the whim of the cloaked and hooded man leading them through the rain, Ross watched patiently as the man gestured for a giant and almost alien man to follow him, the duo now calmly approaching the trio of soldier who stood nervously in the roads center.
 
  Corporal Ross could feel the tension of his Companion’s, form Arthur’s heavy breathing to the concentrated eye of William ,it all felt like a bubbling bottle of wine waiting to blow it’s cork, and so it did when the worrying Duo came within about thirty yards, “HALT WHO ARE YOU!?” yelled Ross the Duo complying.

  “Tell me who you are first, and I’ll let you know if you really want an answer to that question” spoke Drezdin confidently as he pulled back his hood that Bodahn had procured in Denerim, “I’ am Corporal Ross and these are my Comrades, and we are fifth Company of His Regent’s second Division, now tell me who are you?” replied Ross grasping at his blade’s sheath.

  The Cousland glanced over to Sten before looking Ross dead in the eye while the Qunari was ocuppied examining the entire scene noticing the dragged scoffs in the muddy road, “you really want an answer don‘t you?” asked Drezdin with a smirk.
 
  “Yes” bluntly responded Ross as Arthur peered through the slit in his helmet, “I know you, they were handing out wanted posters of you in Denerim’s barracks, you’re the son of Highever’s Teryn, son to the same  house that betrayed Fereldan to Orlais, the son that fled to join the Grey Warden’s that killed the king” spoke Arthur accusatively.
 
  “You speak of fables then, fore I’ am a Cousland but my family is not guilty of anything other than falling victim to some psychotic plot by one Arl Howe to mediate some feeling of inadequacy, and Ostagar, unless you were absent from the field you would know that you‘re Regent fled in cowardice, but I‘m sure it must‘ve felt more like expediency” replied the Cousland keeping his composure, looking to command the situation.
 
  “How dare a traitor like you besmirch the names of the men who are saving Fereldan, especially the Regent he is a Hero” spat back Arthur taking an aggressive stance, “I‘m a traitor?  Naïve I‘m as much a traitor as you are intelligent, for you must be very perceptive to see Howe or Loghain as a savior” spoke Drezdin sarcastically with venom.
  
   “Calm yourself Arthur you were not there at Ostagar, otherwise you would know he is right, and I was there when Loghain ordered the army away from the field, it did not feel right but when you‘re lord gives and order, you must follow no matter what, and I’ve heard of you‘re family, they‘re reputation far exceeds Howe‘s, and I‘ve met the man and I cannot honestly say I would trust him Ser”  spoke Ross with regret as he pressed his hand against his chest where his heart was beating.
 
  “Good men like you Ross died because of Loghain,  now I need to ask what type of bloody mess did you three step in?” asked the Noble studying the many stains of blood that covered each man while Sten brought his attention to the marks leading off the road.
 
  “We were hit by an ambush about a mile or two down the road, we had no chance they just swooped in from all angles” explained William pointing back down the long dreary path, “and I assume you have  someone waiting in the tree line that I should expect?” asked Drezdin looking at signs Sten pointed out, “yes my lord, but it is not what you think” spoke Ross in a pleading voice.

  “We have wounded with us, they won’t last much longer and we only wish to pass by unscathed Ser” spoke Ross with a pleading voice, “a sentiment I share, Sten fetch the other’s for me, I believe these men need aid” ordered Drezdin, Sten simply looking at him rather perplexed before going through with the order.
 
  “Are you really helping us, you‘re really not going to kill us?”  asked Drake cautiously as he stepped out from his hiding place, “do I look like the type to slaughter nearly helpless individuals to you?” replied  the Cousland with his arms crossed beneath his cloak and a cocked eyebrow, “no Ser, I don’t believe you do” spoke William as Arthur nodded his head in agreement as they awaited Drezdin‘s Companions inevitable arrival.

  There was a hustle among Drake, Arthur and Ross as they brought out their wounded, Ross and Arthur gently lifting Mulgrew’s makeshift stretcher of cut up tent to the roadside while Drake helped Murray onto the road were the Lad collapsed in pain just as Wynne arrived with the rest of the Cousland‘s troupe behind her,  “Drezdin?  Sten just told us that we’re helping these men?” asked Wynne curiously.
 
  “Well we’re certainly not leaving them to rot” was the Displaced Noble’s typically toned remark, Wynne just nodded in agreement as she went to work on the bloody mess laying upon the stretcher, “I certainly hope you don’t wish for me to waste my time as well?’ asked the hooded Morrigan bitterly, “no, I’m going to ask you  to spend you’re time instead” spoke Drezdin motioning for her to help Murray.

  Murray laid slightly to his side as he wheezed through the pain in chest, and it was with a sudden shock that he was turned on his back by Morrigan, gasping for air as he gazed up at the Forebodingly Mystic Woman, “are…….you….Andraste?”  gasped Murray coughing for air, “be silent so I may tend to you’re wounds” spoke Morrigan in frustration, gesturing for Drezdin to help get the Soldier’s chest piece off.

  The Cousland silently complied aiding the Witch as Murray just stared at his healer, “are…….you an…..angel?” murmured Murray as Drezdin had managed to pry the chest piece off, “no” bluntly spoke Morrigan as she moved aside his undershirt to reveal a bruised and beaten torso, “she’s an Angel, just one with macabre tastes” spoke Drezdin trying to distract the Lad.

  “I…knew…..it” spoke the entranced Murray as the Witch just shook her head, “there is nothing I can do for him, maybe Wynne can fix this” spoke Morrigan in a rather business like in tone, as they looked over to Wynne who sat with a somber eye as she gazed upon Mulgrew‘s blank eyes, “there is nothing I can do for him, he is lost to us” spoke Wynne grimly.

  Corporal Ross just hunched  over his dead Captain, “I guess you’re officially our leader” spoke Arthur looking for a silver lining in the rain, “no, I’m just a replacement” spoke Ross in a dreary tone, closing the eyes of his dead leader while Wynne slowly moved over to Murray.
 
 The Corporal was met with a small amount of wrapped food as he stood up, the Cousland handing him assorted supplies which included cheese, “I’m sorry for you’re loss, but I hope this helps” spoke Drezdin in a debonair tone as Alistair sighed in the background while he stood beside Bodahn’s cart with Sten and Zevran, Shale just watching curiously.

  “Thank you lord, you’re name was Drezdin if I’m not mistaken?” asked Ross still shaken up a bit, “I’d rather you not spread my name about, it would be easier that way” spoke the Cousland as the food traded hands, “I will keep our meeting between us Ser, but know we will not forget of this, will we Arthur?” spoke Ross towards the stuck up trooper.
 
  “No we won’t sir, no we won’t” replied Arthur swallowing his pride, it took a matter of minutes as Wynne worked her magic weaving spells of healing as easily as a man could breathe, her magic woven through her blood like the many threads of finely knit cloth.
 
  And soon it would be assured that Murray would at the least have  a chance at another few days of life, his breathing slightly relieved and his ankle bandaged while Drake changed the wrappings around his cranium and eye with replacements handed out by Wynne.
  
   And it was so that as quickly as the two groups had met they departed, Ross refusing to leave Mulgrew behind, and it was as he and Arthur carried the corpse away, he glanced back at the formidable group letting the image of they’re kind act sear into his memory, feeling he would never see such a thing again.
  
  
   *********()*********  

 
  Less than an hour passed since Drezdin and Co encountered Corporal Ross and his merry band of misfortune, and it was with a typically purposeful step that Drezdin led their usual formation westward along the road which found itself relieved of the drizzle that had plagued it since the morning, but there was but one unusual occurrence in their line, Sten found himself striding forward to speak with the Cousland.

  “Why did you do it?” asked the Qunari as he strode beside Drezdin who glanced at Sten curiously, “rather easily, now what are you on about?” responded the Cousland in a typical mannerism, “giving aid to the enemy, why do it?” asked Sten abrasively as the two led the march.

  “As I said rather easily” replied Drezdin nonchalantly, “you have still not explained, why did you assist them knowing full well it would be much simpler to kill them?” argued the Qunari, “there’s no honor in going around kicking sleeping lepers, just like there’s no honor in slaughtering a husk of a unit” replied Drezdin confidently.

  “Respectable, but what of the risk, they could simply inform their Kith of us, and that would make our travel much more difficult” argued Sten strongly, “first off they owe us, and secondly imagine how arduous it would be to explain first how you’re entire company was slaughtered, and then how you let a presumed traitor pass you by without so much as a scratch” was the Cousland’s explanation.

  Sten sighed as he came to terms with the logic, “you may choose to help a snake with no venom, but it can still come around and bite you, I will just hope that you’ve not made a mistake” remarked the Qunari, “considering the fact that I released you from you‘re cage in Lothering, knowing full well the extent of you‘re crimes, I  doubt you possess the right to judge me even if I have made a mistake its just another on a long list I‘m owning up to” replied Drezdin with tact and poise.
 
  The Qunari merely stayed silent as he accepted the argument, “well when all is said and done I believe you did the right thing” interrupted Leliana but there would be no immediate response as within just yards ahead of the troupe appeared a company of men but twenty strong, piling out from the woods blocking the path ahead, causing the Party to halt their movement on the road.

  “Now I must ask who is strolling along my road?” asked their leader the man stepping out of his formation, his short black hair serving as a contrast to his blue eyes, “you’re road?  And who exactly might you be?” asked Drezdin defiantly, “I’ am Dale, captain of my Bann’s northern forces, and advocate for a Fereldan united against the treacherous Regent”  spoke Dale approaching the Warden with a arrogant stride.
 
  Dale stared down the entire group that stood before him, “now I see that you all were traveling from the east, you would’ve have happened to bump into a group of wounded soldiers?” asked the Confrontational man, “and what would that mean to you?” asked the Cousland very unappreciative of Dale’s mannrism.
 
  “Well they killed my Brother when he tried to chase them down during a little ambush we set up, so I was considering chasing them down, but first me and my men are hungry and in need of charitable donations, care to donate?” spoke Dale in a voice that only an entitled snake could muster.
 
  The Captain’s attitude causing quite the curious look by Shale, “does the abrasive not realize he is in the presence of those infinitely his better?” asked the Golem causing Drezdin to grin, “I don’t care who you are, talking statue or not you will bow down to my orders” spoke Dale walking away with his hands in the air,  Zevran the Crow using this moment to slip the now ticked Cousland a dagger.
 
  “So now I must demand that you and you’re companions drop you’re possessions and that cart, and we will allow you to live” spoke Dale getting right into Drezdin’s face, the Displaced Noble just smirking at the confrontational egomaniac.
 
  And a minute passed as the two stared the other down, the distance so little that Drezdin could see every little twitch of the mans eye, and it was just as Dale went to speak again that his face met the gold tipped knuckles of Drezdin’s armored gloves.

 Dale cringed in pain as his moment of incoherence was used to Drezdin’s advantage, taking the Riled Captain hostage, gripping him by the neck as a human shield, sticking the tip of the dagger passed by Zevran into Dale’s back causing Dale‘s men to arm themselves thrusting the two sides into a stand off.
 
  “You’re going to order them to stand down, or I swear you will care who I’ am after I carve my name into you’re back, you hear me?” threatened the Cousland in a venomous tone, Sten and the rest of the Troupe standing at arms, “DO NOT GIVE IN!” screamed Dale in response, his troops attempting to slowly inch forward.

  But Dale’s moment of defiance was cut short as he felt half of the sharp knife slip through his leather armor, the Egomaniac wheezing in pain as the Cousland slowly went to jerk it, “I see the gears grinding up there, but sadly you’re a cog short mate” spoke Drezdin insulting the man’s intelligence.

  “Put the weapons down, men put them down!” cried Dale almost in tears, being made a fool of in front of his very own troops who tossed aside their weapons, “good man, now just follow my lead” spoke Drezdin as he slowly led his group past the Soldiers, everyone keeping a vigilant eye on Dale‘s men.

  And it was just as Drezdin had worked his way past them that one attempted to lean down and grasp his blade, only to be met with a thunderous bite of lightning, Morrigan striking the man down dead with out mercy, “ ’tis there any other fools?” asked the Witch in dark tone as the rest just dropped down to their knee’s in shock of an Apostate.
 
  But it was only when Drezdin had dragged Dale a good distance from his men that he stopped the involuntary partnership, wrenching the tip of the blade out of Dale’s back as he kicked the man to the ground, “I’ am Drezdin Cousland, and if I hear just the slightest rumor that you chased down that fractured Company, I will find you and finish this” spoke the Noble in a poisonous and calm tone as he began to stroll off with the rest of his Companions.
 
  And Dale laid on his side a beaten man as he gazed upon the departing Troupe, the image seared into his memories as he would never wish to see them again.

  *******()********

  The Cousland quickly rushed to the head of the Party, a frantic speed to his step ushering his Companions forward causing concern to Alistair, “Drezdin are you alright?” asked the Templar, “we can’t linger here, and we can’t stop walking either our cart leaves tracks along the road and I have a feeling we’ve made a few acquaintances’ who may want to drop in on us if we try to set up camp” spoke Drezdin as he motioned for Shale to move faster.

  “So when exactly should we stop?” asked Alistair with a curious face, “we’ll stop when we get out of this region, or when we find a defensive position to rest, but until then we march” ordered Drezdin as Alistair just nodded, the Templar spreading the order around, even helping a weary and wizened Wynne onto the cart so she could rest her fatigued feet.
 
  But it was within this forced march that Zevran took an opportunity to forward his betting repertoire, sliding beside the marching Noble, “so Drezdin, how about that enticing Morrigan she is quite something,  did you see what she did to that man back their, she wields her power with such seductive prowess, I imagine you fancy such a specimen” pitched Zevran with a playful grin.
 
   “If I didn’t know better I’d assume the Crow’s taught you how to be a match maker” replied Drezdin glibly as they walked, “I see the way you two share glances, I see the lustful tension building between you two” spoke Zevran persuasively, “you’re really trying to sway me while there’s a possibility that we may be pursued at any moment?” asked Drezdin with a cocked eyebrow.
 
  “Well we’ve been marching for the better hours of the day, would it not be pleasing to rest you’re head for the night, maybe even upon Morrigan’s shoulder?” asked Zevran pleased with the thought, “I think she’s more you’re type, so maybe by the end of this you’ll be resting on her shoulder, but until then we will not rest until we have a bit a security” spoke Drezdin with a straight face as he looked down the road.

  “So I see, but what will you be doing once we find security?” asked Zevran again with a constant grin, “what would you expect me to do?” asked Drezdin with a cocked  brow, “well I could only imagine what Grey Warden’s get up to at night, but I would be lying if I said I was not curious” replied the Antivan.
 
  “Well I would be lying if I said that I would tell you what I’m getting up to, but you’ll find out, after all you seem to have a way of keeping an eye out even in the woods” spoke Drezdin suggesting some knowledge of Zevran and Alistair’s spying a few nights earlier, the Duo’s action something Leliana spotted.
  
      Zevran looked slightly impressed as they marched on through the late afternoon onto the clouded night, and it was soon under the cover of darkness that they found themselves a safe distance away from the region, even finding a hill on which they could defend  against a force twice as large as their’s.
 
  And so it would be that their grinding trek to Haven would be sidelined another night, but it would not be for long as they were just days away of their destination.

  *******()********
 
  Author’s Note:
  Alright I’ve finally finished it, I’m sorry for the prolonged wait but I was a bit distracted, (my favorite sport is in it's pre season and I’m stoked) but anyway I wanted to do something a bit different this chapter, and I feel like I did so with Corporal Ross and such.   It just came from an idea of taking a little time to dive into Fereldan’s Civil war and this is what ended up being written, so I hope its up to snuff and yeah.
 
  P.S. I’m considering doing more with Corporal Ross and his merry band in their own little mini series, but that’s just a speculative idea that I’m unsure about.
 
  Thanks For Reading,  Slim Warden.

Modifié par Slim Warden, 23 juillet 2010 - 10:34 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

Oh I vote for more Ross and Co. *bats eyelashes at Slim*



Love this! heh Zev teasing Drez (he could rest his head on my shoulder any time). : D

[LadyAly]

Its always a pleasure to read your writings Slim - please keep up this awesome story

[Slim Warden]

    (Chapter 20: Secret Handshakes & Such: Part 1)

  It had been at the least a week since the Warden led group left Denerim, there destination so close as a portion of them hiked up one of the paths that led to Haven, a town hidden away deep in the mountains of Western Fereldan, it’s location only revealed by the work of Brother Genitivi.
 
  The cold breeze that drifted past Drezdin carried not only the chill of altitude, but a soft touch of snowflakes that kissed the earth tenderly, never lingering long as they met the damp greenery that surrounded them.
  
   The cold weather had caused much needed preparation within the Group, cloaks were the covering of the  chilled adventurers , dressing themselves in the warmest cloth they could find as insulation under their armor.
  
   However in spite of their best attempts at warmth,  Morrigan seemed a tad more bothered than the rest, her very wilder and scant cloth not helping her cause even with the addition of a sleeved tunic and placing her hood snuggly over her cranium the cold still bit at her bones.
 
  And it was Zevran who noticed it the most, the disguised quiver of her lip a slight indication, “I see that you must be longing for warmth?” asked the Antivan in a playfully curious tone, “ ’tis not you’re business Elf” replied Morrigan in a tone as cold as the air.
 
   The Antivan merely adjusted his scarf like neck piece before grinning ever so slightly, “but is it not the business of the group when one within it is feeling discomfort?” shot back Zevran causing Drezdin to glance back, shedding his hood to get a better visage of the moment.
 
  Morrigan simply shot a deathly glare at the Elf causing him to silently drop the conversation, the Witch not even noticing the absence of Wynne, Bodahn, Sandal, and the cart all of which were left at the base of the mountain path in their encampment.
 
  But one who cared not for absentees but for the path ahead was Sten, “this town, what do you know of it?” asked the Qunari in a tactical manner, “it’s up in the mountain, it’s related to the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and is likely inhabited by a cult of stark raving mad lunatics” replied the Cousland in a nonchalant manner, the imprint of his boot sinking into the soft dirt.
 
  Alistair’s ears shot up with the mention of a Cult, “you’re kidding right, about the whole Cult thing?” asked the Templar as Sten just pondered, “I can only hope that I‘ am” replied Drezdin with a sigh, “but why would you think that there’s a Cult?” asked Leliana curiously as they continued their hike, Caesar staying close to his master as he marched tall against the cold wind.
 
  “Why not a Cult?   This situation is very suspect in the first place, and nothing is more suspect to me than a Cult“ answered Drezdin with a relaxed tone, “I will tell It what I find suspicious, how the moist cold seem to stiffen my movement the farther we travel up, I find it rather aggravating” spoke Shale in a self involved tone.
 
  The Golem’s remark sparking a sudden interest from Zevran, “if only you were flesh and blood, I could help you find a cure for stiff limbs” spoke the Antivan in a lecherous tone, “may I kill the pointy eared Crow, I believe its starting to sprout wings again” spoke Shale in a sullen tone, Drezdin just sighing as he shook his head in response.
 
  Shale sighed in disappointment as Leliana spoke, “do you believe that we’re actually going to find Andraste’s ashes?” asked the Rogue with a enthusiastic manner, “for Arl Eamon’s sake we have to” replied Alistair just before Drezdin replied, “lets find Haven and Genitivi, then we’ll worry about the Ashes” spoke the Cousland focused on the task ahead. 
 
  “I believe it would be remarkable if we did, to even glimpse of what was the Maker’s Chosen would be an honor” remarked Leliana very entranced by the idea, causing Morrigan to frown in disapproval, “I can’t decide which I  find more morose, that you would take such bliss in the belief of a Maker, or that you would put such faith in a delirious and possibly crazed Woman, ’tis a shame really ” spoke  Morrigan with subtle venom.
 
  Leliana looked at the Witch , a raised eyebrow as a response came from the head of the Party, “so would you feel remorse towards me, seeing as I’ve placed my faith in a Woman akin to the one you speak of?” spoke Drezdin towards the Witch, “and who would this person be, whom could you have possibly placed you’re faith in?” asked Morrigan with a raised brow.
 
  “I think we both know who it is, Morrigan?” spoke Drezdin, glancing back with a smirk that shone through his stubble, Morrigan merely marched on none so amused by the realization of herself being whom he was speaking of, was coupled with the first sight of Haven.
 
  The logged buildings of the town standing in the distant were a sign that they were close, not only to the town but to the secrets that it held close to its cold heart.

   *******()*******

   The approach on Haven seemed to lack the reward of arriving at one’s destination, but was filled with a cold and sour aftertaste that embodied the very persona of the Town’s ambiance, and for Drezdin and Company they would discover very quickly how uninviting Haven’s inhabitants could be.
 
  A gust of wind swept by as Drezdin led his Troupe towards Haven’s entryway, a novel path decorated with a arch carved from logs found in the mountains, an arch that found itself guarded by a man who’s armor was padded with fur and leather covering his stout build, his beard unkempt and straggly a perfect match to his voice.

  “Who approaches our Haven!?” yelled the Wary Guard as he watched the Group draw closer, “just a few admirers of the scenery” replied Drezdin with a calm disposition, “take you’re sightseeing elsewhere, we have little time to spare on lowlanders” spoke the Bearded Guard in a assertive tone.
 
  “Sadly you’re town is part of our little tour, we’re searching for an old friend named Brother Genitivi, and we have good reason to believe he is somewhere near” replied Drezdin as he studied the surroundings, always feeling as if they were being watched by the trees themselves.
 
  “There has been no one named Genitivi within Haven for as long as I can remember, now I must ask that you conclude you’re business and be on you’re way” spoke the brash Guard standing tall as he held a mace loosely in his hand, “tis rather obvious he is hiding something” remarked Morrigan with a perceptive eye.
 
  “You see my business is the type that Nobility seeks out, and Grey Warden bow to, so I cannot conclude it unless I get entry to you’re village, and I would implore you to see our visit as peaceful” negotiated Drezdin in a convincingly debonair tone.
  
   “If you must then it is best that you visit the Revered Father up the hill in our Chantry first, you may also visit our General store, not that there is much available to Strangers from the lowlands” spoke the Proud Guard finally letting up, knowing if the situation turned sour he would be helpless to stop the imposing group.

  Drezdin just smirked in victory, “good man” commented the Cousland as he snapped his finger and led his party into the Town a suspicious look on Leliana’s face as they walked away from the Guard, “a Revered Father, I’ve never heard of such a thing existing within the Chantry” remarked Leliana slightly bewildered about it, “I hate being right about Cults”  spoke Drezdin remembering his comment moments earlier, a sigh leaving his lips as they began to march uphill.
 
  The Group passed by an assortment of seemingly empty houses that must’ve served as the homes to many of Haven’s population passing the green patch of grass in the center occupied by a strange young lad fiddling with a ivory stick, “Cult or not this place is not going to welcome us for long, I suggest we get the job done and flee” suggested Zevran as he took in the air of the Town.
 
  “I just can’t get over the nerve of that Guard, as if he could stop us if he wanted to” spoke Shale confidently as Drezdin noticed the general store coming within sight, “I wonder what places like these sell, its rather curious” spoke the Pondering Cousland as they approached it.
 
  “We might be able to haggle for information about Genitivi if there is a shopkeeper, could save us the walk to the peak of the town” spoke Morrigan rather fancying her idea, “good point, Shale wait outside with Alistair, just keep an eye out for anything” ordered Drezdin as they neared the door to small for Shale to fit through, Shale only able to watch as they walked into the scantily decorated room.
 
  The Golem sighing as the Walking Statue and the Templar stood watch while the other creaked open the door of the pungent building, finding themselves in the presence of a rather surprised shopkeeper who was sweeping dust from his Store‘s flooring, “I-I had no idea I would be expecting outsiders today, I don’t have much but I can sell whatever is manageable” spoke the brown haired Man, slightly intimidated as he crept behind his counter.
 
  Drezdin nearly replied if he had not been for a sudden jolt of energy to Caesar, the Mabari catching whiff of a strong scent that seemed radiate from the Shop’s backroom, the Hound rushing through the open door causing the Shop Keeper to scream in protest as he leaped over the counter, “STOP THAT MANGY MUTT!” screamed the Keeper in vane.
  
  The Cousland put out a strong hand as he halted the Man’s charge towards the backroom, “what’s the problem Mate?” asked Drezdin with suspicion as he cocked an eyebrow, “I-I j-just don’t want him back there it’s private property” replied the Man half heartedly, “Zevran fetch Caesar, and make sure not to inflict harm upon any of this man’s property” ordered Drezdin as the Elf who shared his suspicion complied.
 
  The Shop Keeper stood trying to look past the Cousland with a nervous and distraught face, a cold sweat running down his brow, “Drezdin you need to see this” spoke Zevran from the backroom a slight disgust to his tone, the words sending a chill down the Keepers spine, his only reflex being to attack the Strangers before they reveal Haven’s secret.
 
  Drezdin kept an eye on the Keeper as he inched his way backwards towards the backroom as Zevran called out to him, but the attention did not stop the Keeper from drawing a small dagger from his tunic sleeve and making a lunge for the Cousland.
 
  But his strike would stagnate in limbo as he met with a swift reaction from the Noble, missing his violent lunge as Drezdin sidestepped him, the Keeper losing his footing and falling face first to the ground, feeling the pressure of a Cousland’s boot on the back of his neck, “Sten watch over this man, I don’t fancy his wares” spoke a dissatisfied Drezdin as he removed his foot and left the man to Sten.
  
   Walking toward the backroom Drezdin could hardly breathe as a rancid taste filled the air nearing it’s source only to find Zevran and Caesar standing over a rotting Corpse, the horrid vision a disgusting memory that one could only pray to forget, “I loathe bleeding Cults” remarked Drezdin disgusted by the fact that they left the body to rot in the backroom,  letting out a sigh as he recognized the insignia of the Corpses armor as those worn by the Knights Red Cliffe.
 
   Shaking his head with the revelation that a man of honor had met his fate and the hands of those whom Drezdin could only believe were twisted an sick in their thoughts, motioning for the Dog and Elf to follow as he departed the room, the dark secrets of Haven started to reveal their tangled webs of frost.

    **********()********** 
 
  If anything would make a man move with haste it would be the scream of a victim, and it was with a heightened pace that Drezdin stepped out of the backroom, “AAAAAARRRGGH!!!!!!” came the loud and piercing screech oozing from the Shop Keepers lunges as Sten kept him underfoot. 
 
  “Sten bloody mute him!” demanded the Cousland as he entered the common center of the store annoyed by the man‘s attempt to warn his Compatriots, Zevran and Caesar followed in his wake as they witnessed Sten ram his blade into the man’s back, reducing the screech to a death rattle, “done” spoke Sten in a very cold tone as Leliana looked on with remorse, shocked just like a majority of those in the room were.
 
  Drezdin merely looked on in dissatisfaction, “lovely Sten, very lovely” spoke the sarcastic Noble as a panic was heard outside, Sten merely shrugging off the remark as Alistair barged through the door, “I don’t want to know what you did in here, but surprisingly someone heard it, and what I’m getting at is we’re under attack” spoke the distraught Templar.
 
  The Cousland sighing as he approached the door drawing his weapons ready for battle as the ambient sound of bone meeting rock serenaded the scenery as the Group where to witness Shale doing a number upon many of their brash and shabbily armored opponents, their attackers number meaning nothing as the Golem seemed to repel any assault they launched, the Coherent Statue acting as a shield while the Other’s rallied behind it.
 
  The crack of steel and rock echoed over the whistle of the mountain wind, the singing clang of colliding steel permeating from every inch of the small clearance that Drezdin and Co found themselves surrounded in outside the General Store.
 
  And it was gusto that their opponents advanced from every corner possible, one letting out a loud scream with eyes that lusted for the blood of the Cousland he rushed towards, swinging violently with a leviathan of a blade, it’s weight and build sadly was nothing more than a slim advantage to Drezdin.
 
  The ringing clash of steel as Drezdin used every ounce of strength to parry the strike away before slipping his family’s blade through the man’s jaw sliding under the bottom of the helmet, and as the Cousland finished the first of many opponents Alistair was forced  to absorb an indulgent strike of an axe to his shield.
  
  The slight tingle that shivered down his left arm not fazing the Devout Warden as he pressed on shield first before striking a critical blow to the man ankle, leaving the poor sod open to a finishing blow, the Cultist’s last visage one of Leliana’s many arrows as they darting through the air downing any approaching from the nearby hill that led to Haven’s chantry.
 
  Sten forming a strong partnership with Shale as the headstrong duo drove fear into the hearts of the few Men left standing in their presence, the broken morale of the only crippled more at the sight of Zevran smashing one of their lowly Compatriot’s heads through the only window of the Town’s shop.
 
  Only able to watch as their step slowly retreated from the field as a Witch of dark influences summoned up a spell of fire, all hope fleeting as their fates met a fiery end.

 And as the battle began to wind down Drezdin noticed as hand full of their assailants fled uphill, a fearful limp in the step of each of them as they fled for the Chantry, “Leliana, Morrigan, Alistair, with me” ordered Drezdin , Caesar naturally following his master as he went off in pursuit with the others in tow, leaving Shale, Sten and Zevran to deal with any stragglers.
 
  The Cousland rushed up the hill in confidence, rushing forwards even as a small group of commonly dressed folk charged down bearing weapons such as daggers, and clubs, the counterattack met only by the remaining arrows of a remorseful Leliana and the bitter sharpness of Drezdin’s blade.

  The rush towards the Chantry culminating in finally reaching the destination,  an opposed march to the top of the hill serenaded in chants that oozed from the place of worship ending with the loud crack of a door splintering from the kick of a Cousland’s boot, Drezdin standing in the open doorway as a man of wizened age who’s long white hair and beard suggested the man’s knowledge of life.
 
  His fur dressing almost as decorated as the magical staff he held in his wrinkled hand, “welcome to Haven, is there anything I can do for you?” asked the Priest in a condescending tone, the many inhabiting the Chantry turning towards the Warden led group with a hostile and scornful sneers only to be met with the cocky grin of a Noble.

   ***********()**********         

  The unmistakable air of tension decorated the environment of the cramped chantry, it’s wooden wall adjourned with many trophies of slain animals of the hunt placed side by side with tapestries depicting unrecognizable figures, all played witness to the stand off between opposing sides.
  
  “We both know that you can’t fulfill any request I make” spoke Drezdin defying the torrential feel of the moment, “and would you expect me to even listen after all you’ve done to ruin the tranquility of this town?” asked the Revered Father as his followers stood silent.
 
  Drezdin slowly took a step forward into the room, Alistair following close behind with Leliana as Morrigan  standing vigilantly as an outsider looking in, staying out of  the sight of the Cultists while Caesar watched anxiously, “no but I didn’t expect to encounter a town of butchers” spoke the Cousland remembering the vision of the Red Cliffe Knight’s corpse.
 
  “Butchers?  We only do what is necessary to protect our Lady Andraste, and we know of whom you seek, and you will know of our Goddesses’  love for her people” lectured the Old Man as one of his pupils dragged a nearly crippled man, his mouth gagged as the balding man tried to mumble.
 
  The Cousland watched with a enraged eye as the man who must be Genitivi was held hostage, a blade to the throat of the man slouched to his knees, “Andraste would never want something so vile done in her name, this is despicable” spoke Leliana with a disrespectful glare towards the Revered Father.
 
  “Just drop you’re weapons, and we will have mercy upon this man” spoke the Revered Father, his Thralls failing to notice the squeak of a mouse trespassing upon their rear flank, Drezdin glancing back towards the door, noticing out the corner of his eye Morrigan’s absence.
 
  “And how can I trust  heretics like yourself?” asked Drezdin with a provoked venom, “calling me a heretic are we?  I will spare this man, but I will spare you considering that given the opportunity you would skewer me” spoke the Revered Father in a victorious tone as the Noble cracked a venomous smirk.
 
  “So true, and it’s sad how you don’t realize I took it” spoke the Cousland confidently as the Revered Father looked at him with a confused glint, “you took  what exactly?” asked the Priest as a burst of black smoke materialized in the rooms corner, a gargantuan of a spider flinging itself at the Man holding the gagged Genitivi hostage.
 
  The Revered Father’s eyes going nearly blank as he heard his understudies bloodcurdling scream, covering up the whisper of Leliana’s  sending the last two arrows  from her quiver cutting through the air, dropping another pair of Pupils as the Revered Father attempted to get a strong grasp on his staff.
 
  The mumble of words that left the Priest’s mouth as he tried to cast a spell in desperation, his chant cut short as he felt the razor sharpness of a Noble’s blade through his heart, Drezdin’s rush forward paying off as Alistair broke the neck of the last Cultist as the Man attempted to stop the Cousland.
 
  Drezdin kept his victim close as he twisted the blade, their eyes meeting while the Cousland proudly answered the dying man’s earlier question, “the opportunity” the Cousland whispered into the Corrupted Priest’s ear, pushing the now deceased man off his blade as he looked towards the man Morrigan had freed.
  
   The Cousland approaching the hostage as Leliana prayed for the souls of the lost while Alistair and Caesar kept an eye out for any other assailant laying in wake, Drezdin removing the tight rope used to silence the Hostage who fell back into a sitting position.
 
  A strong gasp for air was his greeting as Drezdin kneeled down to face the freed Man of religious cloth, their eyes meeting for the first time, a look of hesitant fear on the Man’s face as Drezdin just smirked in light of this victory.
 
  “Brother Genitivi I presume” greeted the Cousland as the man let out a slight sigh of relief with the revelation that they must be there to help him in his quest.
 
   *******()******* 
 
  Author’s Note:
  Here is the first part of chapter 20, I’m planning on getting the next installment out within the week, or at least I hope to.   Also I wanted to take advantage of the fact that Morrigan is a shape shifter in this chapter, cause even if that ability slips my mind in game, I figured I haven’t lived up the fact that she can do that.
 
   P.S.  Doe’s anyone else think Haven could fit into a Lovecraft story?   It is pretty eery after all.
 
  Thanks For Reading, Slim Warden.

Modifié par Slim Warden, 25 juillet 2010 - 12:33 .

[LadyAly]

Great Chapter my friend - I love Drezdin

[hardscrable]

Slim the second part please... you did say in a week...thanks

[hardscrable]

Oh yea lovecraft didn't like cults but I don't remember any shape shifting witches either ,your right

eery