OMG! I am sorry I am late to the party guys!
Erian, doing well...and bored out of his gourd. ROFL! Oh westie, fantastic as usual! I can't wait for more on my fav duo Erian and Castor (I love Cas, the goober).
Alienage blues
Débuté par
westiex9
, avril 14 2010 02:07
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#127
Posté 31 mai 2010 - 08:43
westiex9
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Ghosts of Ostagar part 3
“Makers breath did you hear that?” one of the men says with a shudder, it’s getting late in the wilds near Ostagar and the men are on edge
“Stow it back there! Focus on the dogs” Captain Robin says with a commanding voice, the entire party falls silent once more as military discipline is restored
“The dogs seem to have picked up a scent” I say pointing to the Mabari running down the paths in front of us, only a Mabari could pick up a scent from the tattered scrap I was given by the queen
“Look the dogs are heading into that marsh!” Robin says as we begin to run after them
“Good thing I’m wearing boots, let’s hope the marsh doesn’t tear them off my feet” Castor says with a grumble as we descend into the mud, filth and heat of the nearby marsh
We move through the marshland with torches lit, the dogs walk in front their noses glued to the muddy ground; our boots make a vile squelching noise as we slog through the muddy ground and occasional pool of murky water.
The dogs begin barking as we reach a small island in the middle of the marsh; the air is filled with a smell
“Decay, id know that smell anywhere” I say grimly
“But where’s it coming from? “ Castor asks curiously as we search through the islands bushes and plants for the source
“Wilkins pass me that torch!” I say taking the burning light from his hand
I move the torch above the overgrown vegetation and take a closer look; something stares back at me with a glazed look
I step back and call the others over, our torches illuminating the small overgrown patch, bodies lie in here, little more than husks of decomposing flesh and greening bone, the bodies show signs of struggle due to the arms and armour strewn around them. The one I saw in the torchlight is a tall rotting corpse that’s eyes are still intact, his face has nearly been picked clean and he seems to grin at us with lipless mouth.
“I think we just found the Highever brigade” Robin says staring at the rotting carcasses strewn around the undergrowth
“Chasind?” one man asks moving towards the bodies and inspecting the weapons lying on the ground
“No” I say prying a large curved blade from a corpse pinned to a tree, the blade is dull and crudely made, its edge seemingly corrupted
“Darkspawn” I say showing the blade to the others
“It can’t be those..... Things.....they all died or fled underground after the war...they’re.... gone!” one the men blurt out too horrified to accept the truth
“Look for yourself if you don’t believe me, we have more proof then just weapons, look” I say moving my torch over a patch of ground blackened by a foul smelling ooze
“Is that.....oh maker..... This really is happening isn’t it?” Wilkins says as the men exchange fearful glances with each other
On the ground a foul thing lays its body oozing darkened ichors onto the overgrown marsh floor, even in its decomposing form the partially rotted face of a Hurlock stares up at the world with the same nightmarish smile it had while it was alive, not even the scavengers will try to feast on this tainted carcass.
“Ser Erian I need to speak with you in private” Captain Robin says in a firm voice, she’s a small woman even in full plate, but I’m finally seeing why she is captain of Maric’s shield, she’s tough as anything.
I nod and instruct the men to stay put and keep watch, we move to a nearby tree, still in view of the men but far away enough to converse privately
“Darkspawn in the south, I never thought I’d hear those words again” Robin says with a grim look on her face
“I’m more bothered by the idea that the Darkspawn had something to do with this whole spat between us and the Dalish, intelligent Darkspawn...it’s practically unheard of!” I say dismissively, I’ve never encountered a Darkspawn that did more than growl and kill
“Well...that’s not strictly speaking true” she says giving me a nervous look
“What do you mean?” I ask quizzically
She looks at me with serious eyes for a moment; her face is suddenly hard looking, her short brown hair and steely grey eyes framing a granite face
“What do you remember hearing about the Amaranthine crisis” She asks her face softening slightly
“Not much to be honest, the city burned, people died in huge numbers and the whole thing ended within a few months” I reply, I’ll admit to knowing next to nothing about what happened there, the whole thing was glossed over, the fine details covered up by the Wardens.
“During queen Fiona’s time as Commander of the Grey the region became embroiled in a civil war between seemingly sentient Darkspawn” she says imparting a secret that might be one of our nations closest guarded
“Sentient? As in capable of thought? How is that even possible?” I ask amazed by this revelation
“we never found out, I know some of the details due to my prior service in the Silver order but your guess is as good as mine, anyway the point I’m making is the Darkspawn in Amaranthine attempted to manipulate human elf-relations to their advantage, a lot like what might be occurring here” she says her voice suddenly business-like
“Why here though? I thought they all vanished into the deep roads years ago!” I ask confused and slightly spooked by their presence
“Who knows Ser, in any case they are above ground and stirring trouble” she says bluntly
“We need to warn the Dalish and inform them of this discovery, the Darkspawn are trying to pull both ours and
their strings, and they are close to succeeding “i reply moving past and calling the men to attention, we need to head to the hinterlands and fast.
After the search party had left the marsh, taking their dogs with them, two figures emerged from the bushes and strode onto the island where the corpses had been discovered. The taller figure moving with almost unnatural graces while the other figure, slightly more hunched moved along its armour clanking in the evening air.
“I told you to be discreet with the humans Ravager, your acts have drawn their attention to us” the taller hurlock said calmly, his face bore a look of disapproval, to any non-darkspawn the look would have seemed strange on a hurlocks face, but there were none of those sort around
“But Spurned! You said to acquire human symbols! I only did as you asked!” the hunched Hurlock replied in a pleading tone
“Fool! You killed an entire patrol! Their ruler suspects something that is why these nosy creatures wander the marshes, go after them Ravager, take the shrieks, and don’t return until they are dead” the one known as Spurned said walking away from his hunched companion.
The Spurned mused as he wandered back to their lair that he had been far too lenient with Ravager, since the deaths of both the Architect and the mother, the spurned had relied far too much on the Ravager, and the spurned decided he would not be so lenient if the fool failed him again.
The Ravager had been one of the few disciples that had survived the Grey warden purge of their species in Amaranthine, he had always been easy to control, his only desire was to kill, and provided his bloodlust was sated he made a useful, if intellectually challenged, tool.
Thankfully it was a simple task for the Ravager, hunt and kill the party that had discovered the Ravager’s deed, even that brute would be able to carry this act out, and then the Dalish and human’s would finally go to war and the spurned would use this distraction to further his schemes, after all his plans were made so much easier when the untainted killed each other.
“Makers breath did you hear that?” one of the men says with a shudder, it’s getting late in the wilds near Ostagar and the men are on edge
“Stow it back there! Focus on the dogs” Captain Robin says with a commanding voice, the entire party falls silent once more as military discipline is restored
“The dogs seem to have picked up a scent” I say pointing to the Mabari running down the paths in front of us, only a Mabari could pick up a scent from the tattered scrap I was given by the queen
“Look the dogs are heading into that marsh!” Robin says as we begin to run after them
“Good thing I’m wearing boots, let’s hope the marsh doesn’t tear them off my feet” Castor says with a grumble as we descend into the mud, filth and heat of the nearby marsh
We move through the marshland with torches lit, the dogs walk in front their noses glued to the muddy ground; our boots make a vile squelching noise as we slog through the muddy ground and occasional pool of murky water.
The dogs begin barking as we reach a small island in the middle of the marsh; the air is filled with a smell
“Decay, id know that smell anywhere” I say grimly
“But where’s it coming from? “ Castor asks curiously as we search through the islands bushes and plants for the source
“Wilkins pass me that torch!” I say taking the burning light from his hand
I move the torch above the overgrown vegetation and take a closer look; something stares back at me with a glazed look
I step back and call the others over, our torches illuminating the small overgrown patch, bodies lie in here, little more than husks of decomposing flesh and greening bone, the bodies show signs of struggle due to the arms and armour strewn around them. The one I saw in the torchlight is a tall rotting corpse that’s eyes are still intact, his face has nearly been picked clean and he seems to grin at us with lipless mouth.
“I think we just found the Highever brigade” Robin says staring at the rotting carcasses strewn around the undergrowth
“Chasind?” one man asks moving towards the bodies and inspecting the weapons lying on the ground
“No” I say prying a large curved blade from a corpse pinned to a tree, the blade is dull and crudely made, its edge seemingly corrupted
“Darkspawn” I say showing the blade to the others
“It can’t be those..... Things.....they all died or fled underground after the war...they’re.... gone!” one the men blurt out too horrified to accept the truth
“Look for yourself if you don’t believe me, we have more proof then just weapons, look” I say moving my torch over a patch of ground blackened by a foul smelling ooze
“Is that.....oh maker..... This really is happening isn’t it?” Wilkins says as the men exchange fearful glances with each other
On the ground a foul thing lays its body oozing darkened ichors onto the overgrown marsh floor, even in its decomposing form the partially rotted face of a Hurlock stares up at the world with the same nightmarish smile it had while it was alive, not even the scavengers will try to feast on this tainted carcass.
“Ser Erian I need to speak with you in private” Captain Robin says in a firm voice, she’s a small woman even in full plate, but I’m finally seeing why she is captain of Maric’s shield, she’s tough as anything.
I nod and instruct the men to stay put and keep watch, we move to a nearby tree, still in view of the men but far away enough to converse privately
“Darkspawn in the south, I never thought I’d hear those words again” Robin says with a grim look on her face
“I’m more bothered by the idea that the Darkspawn had something to do with this whole spat between us and the Dalish, intelligent Darkspawn...it’s practically unheard of!” I say dismissively, I’ve never encountered a Darkspawn that did more than growl and kill
“Well...that’s not strictly speaking true” she says giving me a nervous look
“What do you mean?” I ask quizzically
She looks at me with serious eyes for a moment; her face is suddenly hard looking, her short brown hair and steely grey eyes framing a granite face
“What do you remember hearing about the Amaranthine crisis” She asks her face softening slightly
“Not much to be honest, the city burned, people died in huge numbers and the whole thing ended within a few months” I reply, I’ll admit to knowing next to nothing about what happened there, the whole thing was glossed over, the fine details covered up by the Wardens.
“During queen Fiona’s time as Commander of the Grey the region became embroiled in a civil war between seemingly sentient Darkspawn” she says imparting a secret that might be one of our nations closest guarded
“Sentient? As in capable of thought? How is that even possible?” I ask amazed by this revelation
“we never found out, I know some of the details due to my prior service in the Silver order but your guess is as good as mine, anyway the point I’m making is the Darkspawn in Amaranthine attempted to manipulate human elf-relations to their advantage, a lot like what might be occurring here” she says her voice suddenly business-like
“Why here though? I thought they all vanished into the deep roads years ago!” I ask confused and slightly spooked by their presence
“Who knows Ser, in any case they are above ground and stirring trouble” she says bluntly
“We need to warn the Dalish and inform them of this discovery, the Darkspawn are trying to pull both ours and
their strings, and they are close to succeeding “i reply moving past and calling the men to attention, we need to head to the hinterlands and fast.
After the search party had left the marsh, taking their dogs with them, two figures emerged from the bushes and strode onto the island where the corpses had been discovered. The taller figure moving with almost unnatural graces while the other figure, slightly more hunched moved along its armour clanking in the evening air.
“I told you to be discreet with the humans Ravager, your acts have drawn their attention to us” the taller hurlock said calmly, his face bore a look of disapproval, to any non-darkspawn the look would have seemed strange on a hurlocks face, but there were none of those sort around
“But Spurned! You said to acquire human symbols! I only did as you asked!” the hunched Hurlock replied in a pleading tone
“Fool! You killed an entire patrol! Their ruler suspects something that is why these nosy creatures wander the marshes, go after them Ravager, take the shrieks, and don’t return until they are dead” the one known as Spurned said walking away from his hunched companion.
The Spurned mused as he wandered back to their lair that he had been far too lenient with Ravager, since the deaths of both the Architect and the mother, the spurned had relied far too much on the Ravager, and the spurned decided he would not be so lenient if the fool failed him again.
The Ravager had been one of the few disciples that had survived the Grey warden purge of their species in Amaranthine, he had always been easy to control, his only desire was to kill, and provided his bloodlust was sated he made a useful, if intellectually challenged, tool.
Thankfully it was a simple task for the Ravager, hunt and kill the party that had discovered the Ravager’s deed, even that brute would be able to carry this act out, and then the Dalish and human’s would finally go to war and the spurned would use this distraction to further his schemes, after all his plans were made so much easier when the untainted killed each other.
Modifié par westiex9, 31 mai 2010 - 08:45 .
#129
Posté 01 juin 2010 - 01:43
Slim Warden
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If Erian was bored before he definetly won't be now thanks to the good ol' Darkspawn.
#130
Posté 03 juin 2010 - 11:01
westiex9
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Ghosts of Ostagar Part 4
“Makers breath! its darker then South Reach ale tonight” Wilkins complains holding his torch high
Castor seems nervous his eyes dart from one side of the highway to the other as our party heads down the old roads to reach the hinterlands
“I could swear I heard something” Castor whispers never taking his eyes of the sides of the road, something has the boy spooked that much is clear
“Relax boy, aint nothing out there but stinging insects” one of the soldiers says in a reassuring voice
Any calming effect his words might have had on Castor are shattered as a sound fills the night air, a low humming sound, I realize my hand is now gripping the handle of my sword, something is out there
“See I told you I heard something!” Castor whispers sharply
The noise becomes louder and grows closer as the trees either side of the highway road begin to flicker with shadows, the hair on the back of my neck begins to stand on end, I might be a war veteran but fear can claim me just as easily as the next man
“Oh don’t be such children! It’s just your imagination” one soldier grumbles irritated, he moves towards the tree line and shines his burning torch on the trees, he turns to us with a mocking grin
“See, nothing here” he says staring at us, he doesn’t notice the creature standing behind him until he turns around
The Shriek fills the air its sound like nails down an old chalk board, the soldier doesn’t have time to even scream, the look on his face is surprise rather than terror, the blade that impales him causes him to look down, he seems amazed as he collapses to the ground dead.
Terror grips us as the shrieks descend from the trees, one man loses his nerve and tries to run, a swarm of black shadows promptly tear the screaming man to pieces with their vicious knives, captain Robin yells an order and a circle is formed around our baggage mules, the shadows rush at us from all sides and we begin to fight like crazed beasts.
Fear fills us as they tear into our formation, one shriek grabs a soldier by his neck and tears him from the circle dragging him off to be slaughtered by the horde of black shadows surrounding us, I move forward and slash open the throat of one of the shrieks with swing from my blade, the line begins to buckle as the shrieks overwhelm us.
I am knocked flat on my back suddenly by a head butt from one the vile beasts, I stare up from the ground into the snarling eyes of a Sharlock intent on tearing me to shreds, the beast shrieks at me and my face is showered by Darkspawn spittle, the creatures sharp fangs seem ready to lunge at me when it suddenly buckles at the knees its roar silenced abruptly.
The beast collapses forward landing beside me, a long dagger is buried in the back of the monsters skull, Castors knife! My apprentice stands over me offering a hand, which I take as he pulls me up from the ground.
I don’t have time to complement Castor for his speedy rescue however, the Shrieks continue to descend on us with seemingly endless numbers, we fight on desperate to drive the monsters back, but they keep coming and our numbers begin to dwindle.
Captain robin cleaves one beasts head off with a swing of her hand axe and rushes to my side her shield raised high
“We can’t hold these things much longer there’s too many!” she yells over the din of battle
“then we better hope for a miracle!” I reply before driving my blade into a Shriek’s spine with a brutal thrust, I kick the Darkspawn corpse and the blade slides free its edge covered in sickly ichors, the situation seems hopeless but I intend to make these beasts pay dearly for our lives.
The slaughtered beast is soon replaced by another snarling horror which glares across at me with savage eyes, the beast takes one step towards me and then collapses it’s back pierced by a dozen arrows, and suddenly the night sky is full with the screech of projectiles. Someone is in the woods, have we been tracked this whole time?
The shrieks are soon annihilated by the deadly accuracy of their new enemies, their ambush suddenly turned against them; soon the Shrieks have more in common with pin cushions then Darkspawn
“The Dalish are here” I mutter with a half hearted smile, I just hope they’re in a mood to talk
“Of all the things I was going to do this day, saving Shem seemed to be the least likely” scarred elven hunter mutters striding out of the darkness flanked by other Dalish archers
“Well I’m glad you had a change of heart then that was bloody close!” I reply staring at the carnage around us
“Trust me flat ears I did not come to save your party out of the goodness of my heart, you have been seen near Dalish land, the keepers want to know what you are up to, you can’t tell me very much if you’re dead” the Hunter replies coldly
“Funny, we were heading to your keepers anyway, we were sent by the queen to find out the truth behind the incident with the herders” I say wondering how the hunter will respond
“I take it you found something?” he replies bluntly
“Well an entire massacred brigade usually counts as something; we are dealing with intelligent Darkspawn, this entire incident was an attempt to create a war between our two peoples” I say hoping the bodies strewn around us are proof enough of the Darkspawn involvement
“Hmm normally I would assume the Shem were trying to lie about their misdeed, but I have heard of these intelligent Darkspawn, at a gathering a few years ago they were mentioned to have appeared in the north” the hunter says his tone softening slightly
“Well we are dealing with the same situation now” I reply hoping he will see sense
“perhaps flat ears, but the keepers will decide what the truth is, I take it you still intend to head to them?” he asks , he bloody well knows I couldn’t refuse even if I wanted to, it’s a good thing that was our destination, I don’t particularly enjoy being forced somewhere at bow point.
“Well who are we to turn down an invitation to Dalish hospitality” I reply with a sarcastic grin
“For a city elf you have a surprisingly developed sense of humour, reminds me of someone i knew once, we need to go, now” the Hunter replies motioning for us to follow him
“You know you look familiar, have we met before?” I ask staring at the hunter
“We have never met in person, but perhaps we share kin, in any case we can’t talk here, we need to go” he says motioning to the highway road
My mother occasionally mentioned that she had a brother, but she said he lived in a clan across the Frostback’s, could this be him? I have little time to ponder the answer to this question. We have barely enough time to collect ourselves and run after the Dalish who are already heading down the road, you know for kinsfolk these damn Dalish can be a tad abrasive, still they earned the right to be when they pin cushioned those shrieks.
From the darkness of the trees the Ravager stared down into the highway below, he had failed in his appointed task, and to make matters worse lost most of the shrieks who were in limited numbers to begin with, The spurned would not be pleased, Ravager pondered suicide for a brief moment.
“Makers breath! its darker then South Reach ale tonight” Wilkins complains holding his torch high
Castor seems nervous his eyes dart from one side of the highway to the other as our party heads down the old roads to reach the hinterlands
“I could swear I heard something” Castor whispers never taking his eyes of the sides of the road, something has the boy spooked that much is clear
“Relax boy, aint nothing out there but stinging insects” one of the soldiers says in a reassuring voice
Any calming effect his words might have had on Castor are shattered as a sound fills the night air, a low humming sound, I realize my hand is now gripping the handle of my sword, something is out there
“See I told you I heard something!” Castor whispers sharply
The noise becomes louder and grows closer as the trees either side of the highway road begin to flicker with shadows, the hair on the back of my neck begins to stand on end, I might be a war veteran but fear can claim me just as easily as the next man
“Oh don’t be such children! It’s just your imagination” one soldier grumbles irritated, he moves towards the tree line and shines his burning torch on the trees, he turns to us with a mocking grin
“See, nothing here” he says staring at us, he doesn’t notice the creature standing behind him until he turns around
The Shriek fills the air its sound like nails down an old chalk board, the soldier doesn’t have time to even scream, the look on his face is surprise rather than terror, the blade that impales him causes him to look down, he seems amazed as he collapses to the ground dead.
Terror grips us as the shrieks descend from the trees, one man loses his nerve and tries to run, a swarm of black shadows promptly tear the screaming man to pieces with their vicious knives, captain Robin yells an order and a circle is formed around our baggage mules, the shadows rush at us from all sides and we begin to fight like crazed beasts.
Fear fills us as they tear into our formation, one shriek grabs a soldier by his neck and tears him from the circle dragging him off to be slaughtered by the horde of black shadows surrounding us, I move forward and slash open the throat of one of the shrieks with swing from my blade, the line begins to buckle as the shrieks overwhelm us.
I am knocked flat on my back suddenly by a head butt from one the vile beasts, I stare up from the ground into the snarling eyes of a Sharlock intent on tearing me to shreds, the beast shrieks at me and my face is showered by Darkspawn spittle, the creatures sharp fangs seem ready to lunge at me when it suddenly buckles at the knees its roar silenced abruptly.
The beast collapses forward landing beside me, a long dagger is buried in the back of the monsters skull, Castors knife! My apprentice stands over me offering a hand, which I take as he pulls me up from the ground.
I don’t have time to complement Castor for his speedy rescue however, the Shrieks continue to descend on us with seemingly endless numbers, we fight on desperate to drive the monsters back, but they keep coming and our numbers begin to dwindle.
Captain robin cleaves one beasts head off with a swing of her hand axe and rushes to my side her shield raised high
“We can’t hold these things much longer there’s too many!” she yells over the din of battle
“then we better hope for a miracle!” I reply before driving my blade into a Shriek’s spine with a brutal thrust, I kick the Darkspawn corpse and the blade slides free its edge covered in sickly ichors, the situation seems hopeless but I intend to make these beasts pay dearly for our lives.
The slaughtered beast is soon replaced by another snarling horror which glares across at me with savage eyes, the beast takes one step towards me and then collapses it’s back pierced by a dozen arrows, and suddenly the night sky is full with the screech of projectiles. Someone is in the woods, have we been tracked this whole time?
The shrieks are soon annihilated by the deadly accuracy of their new enemies, their ambush suddenly turned against them; soon the Shrieks have more in common with pin cushions then Darkspawn
“The Dalish are here” I mutter with a half hearted smile, I just hope they’re in a mood to talk
“Of all the things I was going to do this day, saving Shem seemed to be the least likely” scarred elven hunter mutters striding out of the darkness flanked by other Dalish archers
“Well I’m glad you had a change of heart then that was bloody close!” I reply staring at the carnage around us
“Trust me flat ears I did not come to save your party out of the goodness of my heart, you have been seen near Dalish land, the keepers want to know what you are up to, you can’t tell me very much if you’re dead” the Hunter replies coldly
“Funny, we were heading to your keepers anyway, we were sent by the queen to find out the truth behind the incident with the herders” I say wondering how the hunter will respond
“I take it you found something?” he replies bluntly
“Well an entire massacred brigade usually counts as something; we are dealing with intelligent Darkspawn, this entire incident was an attempt to create a war between our two peoples” I say hoping the bodies strewn around us are proof enough of the Darkspawn involvement
“Hmm normally I would assume the Shem were trying to lie about their misdeed, but I have heard of these intelligent Darkspawn, at a gathering a few years ago they were mentioned to have appeared in the north” the hunter says his tone softening slightly
“Well we are dealing with the same situation now” I reply hoping he will see sense
“perhaps flat ears, but the keepers will decide what the truth is, I take it you still intend to head to them?” he asks , he bloody well knows I couldn’t refuse even if I wanted to, it’s a good thing that was our destination, I don’t particularly enjoy being forced somewhere at bow point.
“Well who are we to turn down an invitation to Dalish hospitality” I reply with a sarcastic grin
“For a city elf you have a surprisingly developed sense of humour, reminds me of someone i knew once, we need to go, now” the Hunter replies motioning for us to follow him
“You know you look familiar, have we met before?” I ask staring at the hunter
“We have never met in person, but perhaps we share kin, in any case we can’t talk here, we need to go” he says motioning to the highway road
My mother occasionally mentioned that she had a brother, but she said he lived in a clan across the Frostback’s, could this be him? I have little time to ponder the answer to this question. We have barely enough time to collect ourselves and run after the Dalish who are already heading down the road, you know for kinsfolk these damn Dalish can be a tad abrasive, still they earned the right to be when they pin cushioned those shrieks.
From the darkness of the trees the Ravager stared down into the highway below, he had failed in his appointed task, and to make matters worse lost most of the shrieks who were in limited numbers to begin with, The spurned would not be pleased, Ravager pondered suicide for a brief moment.
#131
Posté 04 juin 2010 - 02:25
Gilgamesh1138
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NICE! Really creepy and scarey and wonderful! Love the battle scene! westie, you rock!
#132
Posté 04 juin 2010 - 11:56
Slim Warden
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Okay funny story I was about to post saying how I loved the chapter, and then my internet dies on me, but anyway awesome story.
#133
Posté 08 juin 2010 - 12:26
westiex9
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Ghosts of Ostagar Part 5
The Dalish encampment that occupies the heartlands of the south is by far the largest of its kind in Ferelden and possibly in Thedas as well, I’ve never seen so many Dalish in one place. Even with their own lands the Dalish have yet to settle down, they live in semi-permanent encampments, like small moving cities, old habits die hard I guess.
“Like what you’ve done with the place” I mutter with a grin as we move through the rows of land ships and tents that fill the Dalish encampment
“the people chose to wander our new land rather than settle anywhere permanently, a sort of insurance in case your shem friends decided to take a new disliking to us” Varlen says without looking at me
In the distance at the end of the tent row I can see a huge circle of land ships centred on a large fireplace, is this seat of the Dalish clans?
“The keeper’s assembly, most of the keepers in Ferelden and a few from Orlais meet here” Varlen says with a hint of pride in his voice
“Let’s hope there in the mood for bad news” Castor says with a nervous look
“Indeed I am anxious to clear our kingdoms name” Captain Robin says giving Varlen an accusing look
“That will be for the Keepers to decide young captain” he replies with a cold voice
We are forced to hand our weapons to a guard at the entrance to the keepers assembly, even my boot knife gets found, then we are led inside the circle of land ships, a bunch of elderly and dignified looking Dalish sit by the fire chatting, well except for one of them who looks surprisingly young for her position, I always figured they only let the wrinkly elves be keepers.
“Master Varlen what is the meaning of this disturbance? And why are Shem bearing their treacherous Queens mark in our camp!” One elderly keeper’s says in a suspicious tone
“Keepers I have brought the human delegation to our camp because I believe they may have information that exonerates their people of the murders on the border” Varlen says in a respectful tone
“Bah! next you’ll be telling us that they didn’t sell us into slavery a millennia ago!” The elderly keeper says scoffing and glaring at us with his aggressive stare
“Perhaps if Master Varlen was allowed to finish we might get chance to hear the shem testimony” the youngest keeper says giving the cantankerous elder a disapproving stare, is this Lanaya? I guess the diplomats weren’t kidding when they said she was a smart one
Varlen nods and I step forward, the keepers give me a curious stare, guess they’ve never seen a “flat-ears” leading a royal delegation before
“Anderen Atishan keepers, I come with a grave warning, the massacre on the border was an attempt to manipulate our two peoples to war” I say using the proper forms, after all pays to be polite in another person’s house
“Oh so this was all a big misunderstanding! Perhaps the herders just slipped on some sharpened twigs! More likely the Shem sent this flat-eared runt to charm us into believing their lies!” the elderly keeper says in a mocking voice
“Hold your tongue Farith! You do not speak for this assembly” a female keeper with white hair and a determined stare says shouting down the outspoken keeper
“Thank you Marethari, if you would continue Lethallan” Lanaya says
“Assembly your culprits are not human, there monsters, these attack are the work of darkspawn” I say wondering if they’ll scoff at this idea
Lanaya stands up and paces around the fire for a moment deep in thought, eventually she turns to look at Master Varlen
“The idea that this was the work of Darkspawn is...difficult to accept....Master Varlen what do you make of these claims?” she asks differing to the old huntsman’s judgement
Varlen does not answer in words, instead he nods to a hunter behind him and a large object wrapped in black cloth is brought into the assembly, it is passed to Varlen who places it on the floor and unwraps it, the shrieks head causes some of the assembled Dalish to gasp in shock
“We found the Shem travelling the old Tevinter Highway, these sharlock’s tracked them and would have killed them had we not intervened” Varlen says in a business like tone
“Then I believe we have no choice but to accept the truth, the Darkspawn are involved” Lanaya replies grimly
The entire assembly grows quiet, horrors from the deep earth, children of a tainted evil come to menace the lands of the untainted surface, and few people are going to be able to process this reality immediately, the Dalish speak no more and we disperse soon afterwards.
The camp grows dark as the Dalish begin to drift towards their beds, only the crackling of the warm fire seems to pierce the wall of silence filling the camp air. Varlen sits across from me staring into the fire as if he hopes the flames will answer some deep questions, for a time we sit in shared silence before he finally opens his mouth to speak
“I misjudged you da’len, your mother would be proud” he says looking up at me and breaking his silence
“So it’s true then, you are my uncle?” could it be true? Could this man be the illusive brother my parents once spoke of?
“It is so, though I do not think we have met before” he replies thoughtfully
“Mother used to tell me that you were somewhere over the mountains” I say remembering her old answer
“We travelled for a time in Ferelden, but when the time came to migrate she chose to stay and join a human rebellion, she had fallen for a city elf archer” he says with a pained look on his face
“Why have we never met?” I ask
“Your mother was always an independent sort, when she chose to stay I was shocked that she had chosen to leave us all behind, we did not part amicably “he says with a sad look
“Yet here you are now, why?” I ask, why wait all this time to return to Ferelden
“When Ferelden granted the hinterlands to the Dalish many clans moved to the south, including my own, I tried to use this opportunity to visit Denerim and reconcile, but your old home was abandoned” he says staring at the bow in his hands with a distant look in his eye
“My parents are both long dead, Father died from an old war wound and Mother went missing in the Brecillian passage, by the time you visited Denerim we were all long gone” I say watching his face for a reaction, he looks at me with a relieved look
“I am sorry they are gone, but it is good to know how” he says with a sigh
We grow silent for a brief moment, the sound of distant night birds filling the air, the fire and open air camping reminds me of the civil war and the time spent in the Army, I’m almost feeling nostalgic
“So what did the keepers decide regarding the Darkspawn threat?” I ask
“They have agreed that while they are unsure what to make of Intelligent Darkspawn they will send scouts out and inform Lothering of the threat” he says his voice returning to its normal tone
“And if they find the Darkspawn lair?” I ask curious
“When they find it we will destroy the Darkspawn in the south” he replies in a grim voice, he knows this is no easy task
“Let’s hope they do before any more tensions are created” I say poking the fire with a stray twig
“When they do, I shall accompany you, we shall end this threat to our peoples together” he says with a determined look
I don’t know what awaits us in the darkness of the southern wilds, nor can i guess how many darkspawn we might face, but it is good to know that their ruse has been foiled and that an uncle I thought I would never meet now stands at my side, these monsters will be scoured from the land with flame and sword, that I promise.
The Dalish encampment that occupies the heartlands of the south is by far the largest of its kind in Ferelden and possibly in Thedas as well, I’ve never seen so many Dalish in one place. Even with their own lands the Dalish have yet to settle down, they live in semi-permanent encampments, like small moving cities, old habits die hard I guess.
“Like what you’ve done with the place” I mutter with a grin as we move through the rows of land ships and tents that fill the Dalish encampment
“the people chose to wander our new land rather than settle anywhere permanently, a sort of insurance in case your shem friends decided to take a new disliking to us” Varlen says without looking at me
In the distance at the end of the tent row I can see a huge circle of land ships centred on a large fireplace, is this seat of the Dalish clans?
“The keeper’s assembly, most of the keepers in Ferelden and a few from Orlais meet here” Varlen says with a hint of pride in his voice
“Let’s hope there in the mood for bad news” Castor says with a nervous look
“Indeed I am anxious to clear our kingdoms name” Captain Robin says giving Varlen an accusing look
“That will be for the Keepers to decide young captain” he replies with a cold voice
We are forced to hand our weapons to a guard at the entrance to the keepers assembly, even my boot knife gets found, then we are led inside the circle of land ships, a bunch of elderly and dignified looking Dalish sit by the fire chatting, well except for one of them who looks surprisingly young for her position, I always figured they only let the wrinkly elves be keepers.
“Master Varlen what is the meaning of this disturbance? And why are Shem bearing their treacherous Queens mark in our camp!” One elderly keeper’s says in a suspicious tone
“Keepers I have brought the human delegation to our camp because I believe they may have information that exonerates their people of the murders on the border” Varlen says in a respectful tone
“Bah! next you’ll be telling us that they didn’t sell us into slavery a millennia ago!” The elderly keeper says scoffing and glaring at us with his aggressive stare
“Perhaps if Master Varlen was allowed to finish we might get chance to hear the shem testimony” the youngest keeper says giving the cantankerous elder a disapproving stare, is this Lanaya? I guess the diplomats weren’t kidding when they said she was a smart one
Varlen nods and I step forward, the keepers give me a curious stare, guess they’ve never seen a “flat-ears” leading a royal delegation before
“Anderen Atishan keepers, I come with a grave warning, the massacre on the border was an attempt to manipulate our two peoples to war” I say using the proper forms, after all pays to be polite in another person’s house
“Oh so this was all a big misunderstanding! Perhaps the herders just slipped on some sharpened twigs! More likely the Shem sent this flat-eared runt to charm us into believing their lies!” the elderly keeper says in a mocking voice
“Hold your tongue Farith! You do not speak for this assembly” a female keeper with white hair and a determined stare says shouting down the outspoken keeper
“Thank you Marethari, if you would continue Lethallan” Lanaya says
“Assembly your culprits are not human, there monsters, these attack are the work of darkspawn” I say wondering if they’ll scoff at this idea
Lanaya stands up and paces around the fire for a moment deep in thought, eventually she turns to look at Master Varlen
“The idea that this was the work of Darkspawn is...difficult to accept....Master Varlen what do you make of these claims?” she asks differing to the old huntsman’s judgement
Varlen does not answer in words, instead he nods to a hunter behind him and a large object wrapped in black cloth is brought into the assembly, it is passed to Varlen who places it on the floor and unwraps it, the shrieks head causes some of the assembled Dalish to gasp in shock
“We found the Shem travelling the old Tevinter Highway, these sharlock’s tracked them and would have killed them had we not intervened” Varlen says in a business like tone
“Then I believe we have no choice but to accept the truth, the Darkspawn are involved” Lanaya replies grimly
The entire assembly grows quiet, horrors from the deep earth, children of a tainted evil come to menace the lands of the untainted surface, and few people are going to be able to process this reality immediately, the Dalish speak no more and we disperse soon afterwards.
The camp grows dark as the Dalish begin to drift towards their beds, only the crackling of the warm fire seems to pierce the wall of silence filling the camp air. Varlen sits across from me staring into the fire as if he hopes the flames will answer some deep questions, for a time we sit in shared silence before he finally opens his mouth to speak
“I misjudged you da’len, your mother would be proud” he says looking up at me and breaking his silence
“So it’s true then, you are my uncle?” could it be true? Could this man be the illusive brother my parents once spoke of?
“It is so, though I do not think we have met before” he replies thoughtfully
“Mother used to tell me that you were somewhere over the mountains” I say remembering her old answer
“We travelled for a time in Ferelden, but when the time came to migrate she chose to stay and join a human rebellion, she had fallen for a city elf archer” he says with a pained look on his face
“Why have we never met?” I ask
“Your mother was always an independent sort, when she chose to stay I was shocked that she had chosen to leave us all behind, we did not part amicably “he says with a sad look
“Yet here you are now, why?” I ask, why wait all this time to return to Ferelden
“When Ferelden granted the hinterlands to the Dalish many clans moved to the south, including my own, I tried to use this opportunity to visit Denerim and reconcile, but your old home was abandoned” he says staring at the bow in his hands with a distant look in his eye
“My parents are both long dead, Father died from an old war wound and Mother went missing in the Brecillian passage, by the time you visited Denerim we were all long gone” I say watching his face for a reaction, he looks at me with a relieved look
“I am sorry they are gone, but it is good to know how” he says with a sigh
We grow silent for a brief moment, the sound of distant night birds filling the air, the fire and open air camping reminds me of the civil war and the time spent in the Army, I’m almost feeling nostalgic
“So what did the keepers decide regarding the Darkspawn threat?” I ask
“They have agreed that while they are unsure what to make of Intelligent Darkspawn they will send scouts out and inform Lothering of the threat” he says his voice returning to its normal tone
“And if they find the Darkspawn lair?” I ask curious
“When they find it we will destroy the Darkspawn in the south” he replies in a grim voice, he knows this is no easy task
“Let’s hope they do before any more tensions are created” I say poking the fire with a stray twig
“When they do, I shall accompany you, we shall end this threat to our peoples together” he says with a determined look
I don’t know what awaits us in the darkness of the southern wilds, nor can i guess how many darkspawn we might face, but it is good to know that their ruse has been foiled and that an uncle I thought I would never meet now stands at my side, these monsters will be scoured from the land with flame and sword, that I promise.
#134
Posté 09 juin 2010 - 12:40
Gilgamesh1138
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- Members
- 1 915 messages
Oh westie! Love the back story for our hero too! Nice meeting his uncle. Love how you portrayed Lanaya. More please! : D
#135
Posté 09 juin 2010 - 01:52
westiex9
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- Members
- 754 messages
Ghosts of Ostagar part 6
The Queens study was filled with nobles and military commanders as the messenger arrived and passed the sealed envelope to the nearest bodyguard, who in turn passed it to the queen, the seal on the letter was Cousland, it was from Captain Robin
“News from the south?”Alistair asked staring at the envelope as his wife cracked the seal
“The Dalish have begun scouting the area for....Darkspawn, apparently the tainted beasts were behind the entire border massacre” Fiona said surprised to hear the darkspawn being mentioned again, they just wouldn’t die
“Darkspawn they’re like a bad houseguest who just refuses to leave” Alistair replied with a cheeky grin
“No joking in the war room!” Fiona replied in mock outrage
“Looks like we will need to send someone to deal with them permanently, send a message to Argus Grayson, he will meet with the Dalish and end this threat” Fiona said scribbling a letter and sealing it
“Maker help us all if those things have got a foothold in the south again” Alistair muttered grimly
“Master Varlen! We’ve received word from the Shem rulers they are sending the Grey Wardens!” Verren called out excitedly, legends would soon be walking amongst them
“What about the scouting parties? Focus Da’len!” Varlen replied trying to pull his apprentices head out of the clouds
“Oh! Well...the thing is master...you’re not going to....” Verren clearly had news she thought that Varlen would not like
“Just tell me Da’len! I’m sure it can’t be that bad!” Varlen replied exasperated
“The scouts found a trail leading to the Darkspawn lair...the old fortress of Ostagar” Verren said in a nervous voice
“Okay I take that back, it is that bad” Varlen muttered grimly
“No wonder they called in the Wardens” Verren said thoughtfully
“Let’s just hope they are as good as legend says they are, because by the creators, that old ruin has a history of slaughter to its name” Varlen said in a tone that for the briefest moment sounded fearful
“Grayson! That bloody Cyclops” I grumble as we lie crouched on a hill overlooking the ruined fortress below, it’s beginning to rain making things even more uncomfortable as our clothes begin to soak, I remember standing around a lot the last time I was here, Loghain never sent us into battle to aid the king and I is one of my great shames.
“What’s wrong with Grayson?” Castor asks curious, I forget sometimes that I brought Grayson’s crime to light without Castor at my side
Never you mind lad, now can you see anything through that spyglass?” I ask, he bought that thing from the wonders of Thedas for bird watching months ago, looks like we’ve found a new creature to watch, don’t ask about singing though, Darkspawn aren’t into that
“There’s some wandering around on the walls, I’ll bet there aren’t that many of them, maybe a hundred at most” Castor says confidently
“And what evidence do you have for that estimate?” I ask suspicious
“They have no brood mother otherwise they would be streaming out across the countryside, and this isn’t a blight so they must be in small numbers” he says staring into the spyglass
“Let’s hope your right, even if they are in small numbers though, I suspect this will be bloody, always is where Darkspawn are concerned” I reply gripping the hilt of my sword
“Ser Erian! The other leaders wish for your presence at the council” a soldier whispers, I sneak down from the hill and head for the small tent which serves as our command post
“If the archers strike at the walls here, then my men can move in and eliminate the darkspawn within” Grayson says pointing to a section of the map
“So charge in under a hail of arrows and kill’em all in the blaze of Glory! Sounds just like you Grayson” I say in a mocking tone as I enter the tent
“Erian, I heard you were here, let’s put the past aside to deal with the darkspawn, there will be plenty of time for you to go back to hating me afterwards” Grayson says not looking up from his map
“I can agree to that for now, were are the Darkspawn holed up?” I ask
“The scouts all report that the Darkspawn are using the tunnels that run beneath the fortress as their lair, we will use the archers diversion to enter and deal with them” Grayson says matter-a-factly, then again he’s probably done this a hundred times
“so we punch through their week defence on the walls and then burn them out in their own home, reminds me of wolf hunting” Varlen says with the first grin I’ve seen from him ever
“Let’s just hope they don’t expect us” Captain Robin says grimly
“Creators help us if they do” I reply
Outside the rain starts again, and in the distance thunder begins to roll across the sky, a storms coming alright, and it’s going to wash the Darkspawn clean from this land
“But spurned they had elves! They cut the shrieks down before I could finish the job!” Ravager pleaded as the Spurned glared at him
“Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me Ravager, you are a crude imbecile fit only to burn villages! Thanks to your failure to eliminate the humans they will be able to warn the elves” Spurned bellowed angrily, his echoes filling the cavern
“But spurned the elves must have tracked me! It is not my fault” Ravager whined trying to place the blame anywhere but on himself
The Spurned snarled and grasped the Ravagers neck tightly, lifting him off the ground, he seemed ready to break the weaklings neck, but the sound of battle that filled the air above them caused the spurned to loosen his grip on the Ravager’s neck
“They have found us” Spurned said with a cold voice
“What can we do?!” Ravager said with a panicked voice
“Ready the others! When they enter this cavern I expect our guests to be welcomed” the Spurned said as he walked down the tunnel into the darkness in the depths below
The Tunnels beneath Ostagar were deep and seemed to stretch on forever in all directions, like the innards of a beast Argus thought to himself as he led his men through the underground passages, the Darkspawn on the walls had been annihilated by the Dalish at the start of the assault, but Grayson knew their lair was underground, but where were they?
“Bloody Darkspawn ! Bet their hiding somewhere waiting to ambush us” Erian muttered as he held his torch high, its flames illuminating the darkness
“If they try I have a feeling they will fail” Grayson replied his warden sense far from tingling
“Oh yeah I forgot, in addition to justice evasion you wardens can also sense the Darkspawn, lucky us” Erian said pretending to be impressed
Grayson knew that the elven investigator would not forgive him easily, Erian represented justice in its most absolute form, and Grayson’s lack of punishment for his past crime doubtless must have enraged the elf. But Erian was wrong, Grayson had been punished, his lover had been hanged in an Orlesian city while he was forced to live with the knowledge it was his fault.
The men finally exited the tunnels and found themselves in a large cavern; Grayson sensed the hurlock’s before he saw them
“Darkspawn!” one of the Wardens yelled drawing his sword, the others followed suit
“Kill them!” Grayson roared as the Wardens charged into the mob of Hurlocks
The Cavern echoed with the sounds of weapons clashing as the Wardens cut through the Hurlocks, Grayson sensed something was off, the Hurlocks were not some mindless raiding party, and their leaders were close.
Grayson broke off from the Melee and ran in the direction of the leaders he sensed, he descended deep into the lower tunnels torch in hand.
“Where’s he going?” Castor yells as he kicks a slain Hurlock to get his blade loose
“I don’t know but we better follow, I have a feeling old one eye is about to do something very stupid” I say grabbing a torch and running after the commander of the Grey
“What about the battle?” Castor yells running to keep up with me
“They have the situation well under control, but who knows what could be waiting for Grayson in the depths” I say rushing into the tunnels
The famed Elven Guardsman charging to his onetime suspects rescue, I always thought the Creators had lousy senses of humour
Grayson rushed after the Hurlocks he sensed, they were close and he could feel them, calling out to him in his blood. He rushed through the narrow passage ways like a hound chasing a scent; a pair of hands lashing out from the darkness ended his chase abruptly. The hands of a large Hurlock disciple clawed at him and threw him to the ground, he tried to rise but a large boot stomped on his chest.
“Well look what we have here Ravager, a grey warden, a commander no less” A tall Hurlock said stepping out of the darkness to stand beside its brutish companion
“We should bleed this one dry and takes it blood to make an army!” the one called Ravager said with a snarl, he drew a large and corroded knife and stared down at Grayson menacingly
Grayson did not feel any fear, he had lived to see his Lover hanged in Orlais, and death would be a release from the nightmares no matter the manner of its arrival.
“That is the first decent suggestion you have made in months Ravager, do it!” the taller Hurlock said with a grin
The corroded knife drew closer and closer, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the Hurlock prepared to gut Grayson alive, then something happened, a knife flashed through the darkness and into the ravagers hand, the Ravager dropped its blade with a howl of pain as the blade dug into his hand
“Bloody Darkspawn, you don’t know when to die!” A familiar voice yelled out, Erian Tor the man who had hated Grayson had come to the rescue
The Ravager tore the knife free and dropped it on the ground, he then moved behind the other Hurlock like a dog retreating to its masters side, Erian and his apprentice castor move to Grayson’s side swords unsheathed, Erian retrieving his knife as he came.
The Taller Hurlock raised his hands and weaved a strange magic, the air began to boil with the heat of the Arcane, The Hurlock released its hands and the ball of energy exploded outwards cracking into the cave wall, the tunnel began to collapse in on itself, rubble falling from the ceiling and walling off the Warden from his enemy
“Looks like he was in a hurry “Castor muttered helping Grayson up off the floor
“You saved my life Ser Erian” Grayson said amazed
“Yeah well don’t make me regret it” Erian replied with a slightly irritated voice
“Looks like the Darkspawn got away” Castor said staring at the collapsed cave passage in front of them
“Something tells me I’ll get another chance” Grayson muttered turning on his heel
Erian stared down at the pool of black ichor that had formed after his blade had pierced the beast’s hand
“They really are monsters Castor” Erian said with a grim voice
“Nothing will ever grow on this spot, not after that ichor soaks into the floor, hurts to think two of them escaped” Erian said disappointed
“You still helped stop a war and saved the commander of the Grey” Castor replied encouragingly
“The Dalish are good people, my uncle is a good person, I suppose knowing none of their blood will be spilt does make this worthwhile” Erian said sheathing his sword
“Come on let’s get out of here” Castor said pointing to the passage leading to the surface
“I hear that, these ruins are giving me the creeps” Erian replied, they left the tunnel quickly to catch up with the Wardens, the horror of the south had been defeated, they could rest easy at least for now.
The two Darkspawn walked down the darkened passage in silence, their small army destroyed and plans in ruin, and yet they lived
“A minor setback” The Spurned mused his mind already shifting to new plans
“What will happen now?” Ravager asked in a snivelling voice, like a whipped dog addressing its master
“The humans will think this is the end, that they will be troubled no more, while in Amaranthine I will build my strength and strike at them once more, this is not the end, only a setback” The spurned said with a chuckle
“What will we do in amaranthine spurned?” The Ravager asked curious
A flash of corroded steel fill the darkness for the briefest of moments, the Ravagers head slid from its neck and a jet of black Ichor fountained from the open wound, the Ravager fell to the ground lifeless
“There is no we, you outlived your usefulness” the Spurned said sheathing its corroded blade and walking on into the Darkness
There was no anger or rage in the stride of the Spurned, he had suffered a setback and nothing more, soon his vision would blacken the world, and no surfacer’s tenacity or incompetent’s weakness would be able to stop his plans.
The Queens study was filled with nobles and military commanders as the messenger arrived and passed the sealed envelope to the nearest bodyguard, who in turn passed it to the queen, the seal on the letter was Cousland, it was from Captain Robin
“News from the south?”Alistair asked staring at the envelope as his wife cracked the seal
“The Dalish have begun scouting the area for....Darkspawn, apparently the tainted beasts were behind the entire border massacre” Fiona said surprised to hear the darkspawn being mentioned again, they just wouldn’t die
“Darkspawn they’re like a bad houseguest who just refuses to leave” Alistair replied with a cheeky grin
“No joking in the war room!” Fiona replied in mock outrage
“Looks like we will need to send someone to deal with them permanently, send a message to Argus Grayson, he will meet with the Dalish and end this threat” Fiona said scribbling a letter and sealing it
“Maker help us all if those things have got a foothold in the south again” Alistair muttered grimly
“Master Varlen! We’ve received word from the Shem rulers they are sending the Grey Wardens!” Verren called out excitedly, legends would soon be walking amongst them
“What about the scouting parties? Focus Da’len!” Varlen replied trying to pull his apprentices head out of the clouds
“Oh! Well...the thing is master...you’re not going to....” Verren clearly had news she thought that Varlen would not like
“Just tell me Da’len! I’m sure it can’t be that bad!” Varlen replied exasperated
“The scouts found a trail leading to the Darkspawn lair...the old fortress of Ostagar” Verren said in a nervous voice
“Okay I take that back, it is that bad” Varlen muttered grimly
“No wonder they called in the Wardens” Verren said thoughtfully
“Let’s just hope they are as good as legend says they are, because by the creators, that old ruin has a history of slaughter to its name” Varlen said in a tone that for the briefest moment sounded fearful
“Grayson! That bloody Cyclops” I grumble as we lie crouched on a hill overlooking the ruined fortress below, it’s beginning to rain making things even more uncomfortable as our clothes begin to soak, I remember standing around a lot the last time I was here, Loghain never sent us into battle to aid the king and I is one of my great shames.
“What’s wrong with Grayson?” Castor asks curious, I forget sometimes that I brought Grayson’s crime to light without Castor at my side
Never you mind lad, now can you see anything through that spyglass?” I ask, he bought that thing from the wonders of Thedas for bird watching months ago, looks like we’ve found a new creature to watch, don’t ask about singing though, Darkspawn aren’t into that
“There’s some wandering around on the walls, I’ll bet there aren’t that many of them, maybe a hundred at most” Castor says confidently
“And what evidence do you have for that estimate?” I ask suspicious
“They have no brood mother otherwise they would be streaming out across the countryside, and this isn’t a blight so they must be in small numbers” he says staring into the spyglass
“Let’s hope your right, even if they are in small numbers though, I suspect this will be bloody, always is where Darkspawn are concerned” I reply gripping the hilt of my sword
“Ser Erian! The other leaders wish for your presence at the council” a soldier whispers, I sneak down from the hill and head for the small tent which serves as our command post
“If the archers strike at the walls here, then my men can move in and eliminate the darkspawn within” Grayson says pointing to a section of the map
“So charge in under a hail of arrows and kill’em all in the blaze of Glory! Sounds just like you Grayson” I say in a mocking tone as I enter the tent
“Erian, I heard you were here, let’s put the past aside to deal with the darkspawn, there will be plenty of time for you to go back to hating me afterwards” Grayson says not looking up from his map
“I can agree to that for now, were are the Darkspawn holed up?” I ask
“The scouts all report that the Darkspawn are using the tunnels that run beneath the fortress as their lair, we will use the archers diversion to enter and deal with them” Grayson says matter-a-factly, then again he’s probably done this a hundred times
“so we punch through their week defence on the walls and then burn them out in their own home, reminds me of wolf hunting” Varlen says with the first grin I’ve seen from him ever
“Let’s just hope they don’t expect us” Captain Robin says grimly
“Creators help us if they do” I reply
Outside the rain starts again, and in the distance thunder begins to roll across the sky, a storms coming alright, and it’s going to wash the Darkspawn clean from this land
“But spurned they had elves! They cut the shrieks down before I could finish the job!” Ravager pleaded as the Spurned glared at him
“Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me Ravager, you are a crude imbecile fit only to burn villages! Thanks to your failure to eliminate the humans they will be able to warn the elves” Spurned bellowed angrily, his echoes filling the cavern
“But spurned the elves must have tracked me! It is not my fault” Ravager whined trying to place the blame anywhere but on himself
The Spurned snarled and grasped the Ravagers neck tightly, lifting him off the ground, he seemed ready to break the weaklings neck, but the sound of battle that filled the air above them caused the spurned to loosen his grip on the Ravager’s neck
“They have found us” Spurned said with a cold voice
“What can we do?!” Ravager said with a panicked voice
“Ready the others! When they enter this cavern I expect our guests to be welcomed” the Spurned said as he walked down the tunnel into the darkness in the depths below
The Tunnels beneath Ostagar were deep and seemed to stretch on forever in all directions, like the innards of a beast Argus thought to himself as he led his men through the underground passages, the Darkspawn on the walls had been annihilated by the Dalish at the start of the assault, but Grayson knew their lair was underground, but where were they?
“Bloody Darkspawn ! Bet their hiding somewhere waiting to ambush us” Erian muttered as he held his torch high, its flames illuminating the darkness
“If they try I have a feeling they will fail” Grayson replied his warden sense far from tingling
“Oh yeah I forgot, in addition to justice evasion you wardens can also sense the Darkspawn, lucky us” Erian said pretending to be impressed
Grayson knew that the elven investigator would not forgive him easily, Erian represented justice in its most absolute form, and Grayson’s lack of punishment for his past crime doubtless must have enraged the elf. But Erian was wrong, Grayson had been punished, his lover had been hanged in an Orlesian city while he was forced to live with the knowledge it was his fault.
The men finally exited the tunnels and found themselves in a large cavern; Grayson sensed the hurlock’s before he saw them
“Darkspawn!” one of the Wardens yelled drawing his sword, the others followed suit
“Kill them!” Grayson roared as the Wardens charged into the mob of Hurlocks
The Cavern echoed with the sounds of weapons clashing as the Wardens cut through the Hurlocks, Grayson sensed something was off, the Hurlocks were not some mindless raiding party, and their leaders were close.
Grayson broke off from the Melee and ran in the direction of the leaders he sensed, he descended deep into the lower tunnels torch in hand.
“Where’s he going?” Castor yells as he kicks a slain Hurlock to get his blade loose
“I don’t know but we better follow, I have a feeling old one eye is about to do something very stupid” I say grabbing a torch and running after the commander of the Grey
“What about the battle?” Castor yells running to keep up with me
“They have the situation well under control, but who knows what could be waiting for Grayson in the depths” I say rushing into the tunnels
The famed Elven Guardsman charging to his onetime suspects rescue, I always thought the Creators had lousy senses of humour
Grayson rushed after the Hurlocks he sensed, they were close and he could feel them, calling out to him in his blood. He rushed through the narrow passage ways like a hound chasing a scent; a pair of hands lashing out from the darkness ended his chase abruptly. The hands of a large Hurlock disciple clawed at him and threw him to the ground, he tried to rise but a large boot stomped on his chest.
“Well look what we have here Ravager, a grey warden, a commander no less” A tall Hurlock said stepping out of the darkness to stand beside its brutish companion
“We should bleed this one dry and takes it blood to make an army!” the one called Ravager said with a snarl, he drew a large and corroded knife and stared down at Grayson menacingly
Grayson did not feel any fear, he had lived to see his Lover hanged in Orlais, and death would be a release from the nightmares no matter the manner of its arrival.
“That is the first decent suggestion you have made in months Ravager, do it!” the taller Hurlock said with a grin
The corroded knife drew closer and closer, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the Hurlock prepared to gut Grayson alive, then something happened, a knife flashed through the darkness and into the ravagers hand, the Ravager dropped its blade with a howl of pain as the blade dug into his hand
“Bloody Darkspawn, you don’t know when to die!” A familiar voice yelled out, Erian Tor the man who had hated Grayson had come to the rescue
The Ravager tore the knife free and dropped it on the ground, he then moved behind the other Hurlock like a dog retreating to its masters side, Erian and his apprentice castor move to Grayson’s side swords unsheathed, Erian retrieving his knife as he came.
The Taller Hurlock raised his hands and weaved a strange magic, the air began to boil with the heat of the Arcane, The Hurlock released its hands and the ball of energy exploded outwards cracking into the cave wall, the tunnel began to collapse in on itself, rubble falling from the ceiling and walling off the Warden from his enemy
“Looks like he was in a hurry “Castor muttered helping Grayson up off the floor
“You saved my life Ser Erian” Grayson said amazed
“Yeah well don’t make me regret it” Erian replied with a slightly irritated voice
“Looks like the Darkspawn got away” Castor said staring at the collapsed cave passage in front of them
“Something tells me I’ll get another chance” Grayson muttered turning on his heel
Erian stared down at the pool of black ichor that had formed after his blade had pierced the beast’s hand
“They really are monsters Castor” Erian said with a grim voice
“Nothing will ever grow on this spot, not after that ichor soaks into the floor, hurts to think two of them escaped” Erian said disappointed
“You still helped stop a war and saved the commander of the Grey” Castor replied encouragingly
“The Dalish are good people, my uncle is a good person, I suppose knowing none of their blood will be spilt does make this worthwhile” Erian said sheathing his sword
“Come on let’s get out of here” Castor said pointing to the passage leading to the surface
“I hear that, these ruins are giving me the creeps” Erian replied, they left the tunnel quickly to catch up with the Wardens, the horror of the south had been defeated, they could rest easy at least for now.
The two Darkspawn walked down the darkened passage in silence, their small army destroyed and plans in ruin, and yet they lived
“A minor setback” The Spurned mused his mind already shifting to new plans
“What will happen now?” Ravager asked in a snivelling voice, like a whipped dog addressing its master
“The humans will think this is the end, that they will be troubled no more, while in Amaranthine I will build my strength and strike at them once more, this is not the end, only a setback” The spurned said with a chuckle
“What will we do in amaranthine spurned?” The Ravager asked curious
A flash of corroded steel fill the darkness for the briefest of moments, the Ravagers head slid from its neck and a jet of black Ichor fountained from the open wound, the Ravager fell to the ground lifeless
“There is no we, you outlived your usefulness” the Spurned said sheathing its corroded blade and walking on into the Darkness
There was no anger or rage in the stride of the Spurned, he had suffered a setback and nothing more, soon his vision would blacken the world, and no surfacer’s tenacity or incompetent’s weakness would be able to stop his plans.
#136
Posté 09 juin 2010 - 01:54
westiex9
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Authors note: With the End of this case, Erian will return soon with more adventures, meanwhile the Spurned's story arc will be continued by Argus Grayson(who will be getting his own fanfic very soon) this one was hard to finish, and hasn't always felt like my best work, but in many ways it leads on to many differant and cool fanfics.
#137
Posté 09 juin 2010 - 05:37
Gilgamesh1138
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Oh now I have shivers about the Spurrned. Can't wait for more on him, and Erian, and Chevalier's Tales. MOAR please! Because you don't need to sleep, or eat, or bathe right? 
no sleep needed!
#139
Posté 10 juin 2010 - 12:39
Gilgamesh1138
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ROFL! Hey I have to have more writing time, so something has to go right?
#140
Posté 10 juin 2010 - 02:54
westiex9
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Hey Guys Im busy plotting,scheming and tinkering on various fanfics so i figured id give you a preview to wet your appetites while i get them ready 
Alienage Blues: Erian is visited by a man with dark news, one of Erian's Army freinds has been murdered on Bann Lornes lands, Worse still rumours of disappearing Free holders and Black magic abound, Erian leaves to investigate but what will he uncover? and will he be able to overcome the darkness infesting the secluded bannorn?
Chevalier's Trials: A new and Sadistic Commander Replaces Ser Aberlaine as Commander-in-Chief of the Amaranthine Garrison, he immediatley orders a regional hunt for the Ferelden Guerilla the Wolf, But will Paul Be able to retain his honor and humanity in the face of increasingly savage orders? and what is the dark connection between this new commander and Clovis?
And coming soon
Rogue Warden:
Argus Grayson is the Hero of Ferelden and Third Commander of the Grey since the orders return to Ferelden, secretly out of favour with the Queen and having lost his lover to an orlesian Noose(courtesy of Erian and Fiona) Argus spends his time in exile in Amaranthine, But his isolation will soon end.
Rumours Abound in Amaranthine of Dark deeds on the Isle of Brandels reach, and When Argus and a band of Grey Wardens arrive to investigate they find evidence of a dark and twisted plot by the Darkspawn known as the Spurned to destroy the Nation, Can Argus save the Kingdom in time? find out soon
Alienage Blues: Erian is visited by a man with dark news, one of Erian's Army freinds has been murdered on Bann Lornes lands, Worse still rumours of disappearing Free holders and Black magic abound, Erian leaves to investigate but what will he uncover? and will he be able to overcome the darkness infesting the secluded bannorn?
Chevalier's Trials: A new and Sadistic Commander Replaces Ser Aberlaine as Commander-in-Chief of the Amaranthine Garrison, he immediatley orders a regional hunt for the Ferelden Guerilla the Wolf, But will Paul Be able to retain his honor and humanity in the face of increasingly savage orders? and what is the dark connection between this new commander and Clovis?
And coming soon
Rogue Warden:
Argus Grayson is the Hero of Ferelden and Third Commander of the Grey since the orders return to Ferelden, secretly out of favour with the Queen and having lost his lover to an orlesian Noose(courtesy of Erian and Fiona) Argus spends his time in exile in Amaranthine, But his isolation will soon end.
Rumours Abound in Amaranthine of Dark deeds on the Isle of Brandels reach, and When Argus and a band of Grey Wardens arrive to investigate they find evidence of a dark and twisted plot by the Darkspawn known as the Spurned to destroy the Nation, Can Argus save the Kingdom in time? find out soon
#141
Posté 10 juin 2010 - 03:43
Gilgamesh1138
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WOOT! *drools and makes grabby hands*
#142
Posté 11 juin 2010 - 01:08
Slim Warden
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Can't wait for more especially more Argus, you're doing quite well West quite well indeed.
#143
Posté 11 juin 2010 - 01:30
westiex9
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Where Carrion Crows Feast part 1
They came to the farmstead in the night, the wind howled across the valley like a wolf on the hunt; they kicked the door in and found their mark sleeping in his bed. He struggled when they dragged him out into the field, but they were strong and they forced him out with kicks and blows to the head.
Now no one knows what they did to him out there on that muddy field, some say they invoked some demonic magic’s and bled him dry to satiate the hunger of the fade, others say they took knives and did things to flesh that would make sane men wretch, all the farmers knew was they found him tied to wooden poles like a bloody scarecrow, the carrion birds pecking at his eyes as soon as dawn arrived.
The villagers burned the unfortunate soul’s remains, they said nothing of the culprits in public, but every one of them looked to Bann Lorne’s hilltop estates and knew the truth, the Bann was no disciple of Andraste, he had done unspeakable things up in that high estate and the recent arrival of a guest from Orlais only added to the villagers hatred of their liege lord.
The Valley of Bann Lorne was said to be haunted, the Darkspawn had been here once, and their ravages had left the land fragile and prone to famines, but Bann Lorne by all accounts lived like an emperor in his high estate, braver men would sometimes spy on the estate from afar and hear the music and revels occurring inside, the Bann was a strange creature, that much could be said.
The Villagers would have been content to leave the Bann alone up on his high estate, but the murders continued, every night at the end of each month someone would go missing, and so when the fifth soul was found mutilated and bound, the villagers sent a terrified farm hand north, to the city of Denerim.
9:35 Dragon, Erian Tor’s office, Denerim Alienage
“Do you remember the time we took on that pride demon?” I ask Castor while looking out the window and remembering that event nostalgically
“What you mean do I remember running for my life and nearly soiling my breaches? Personally id rather think about the time the lass who works across the lane danced with me at the festival, but you always did have an odd memory boss” Castor replies
“Why?” he asks confused by my sudden nostalgia, if memories of an event so horrific deserve to be called that
“I sometimes wonder, and its dark sort of wonder lad, how many horrors stalk the dark corners of this land? How many creatures foul and fearful call the shadows of our dreams their home” I ask, yep I’m definitely in a dark mood
“Personally Erian I prefer to think about the horrors that are more immediate, like all those noble women at court who constantly try to get your attention, I swear those Shem women look at you like you’re a curiosity item” Castor says taking a cloth and shining his boots
“Your right, demons and ghouls are a discussion suited for another time, anything interesting going on in our fair city?” I ask knowing Castor has become disturbingly adept at discovering the happenings of Denerim
“Other than the Scarlet veil tournament preparations for later this year nothing of interest” Castor replies
“I hear the king himself is competing in the Veil this year, let’s just hope Fiona lets him do more than just stab hoops with a lance” I say with a chuckle
“Isn’t it a little early for dirty jokes?” Castor asks with a grin
“Lad I was referring to the actual tourney game of hoops, the only dirty mind here is yours” I say with a laugh
“Well in any case I think someone’s knocking on the door” Castor says rising and going down the stairs
I sigh and look out the window, rain unsurprisingly “whoever it is best have a good reason, I’d hate to turn someone away brave enough to struggle through this storm” I say taking a seat at my desk
A man caked in dirt walks into the room and takes a seat, his clothing is so covered in dust and dried mud that I have trouble believing there’s any fabric underneath all the layers of muck, I guess he’s come a long way, he’s a short nervous looking fellow, his eyes are ringed with lines of fatigue and his face is pale, he probably hasn’t stopped moving in days.
“Thank you for meeting with me Ser Erian, we need your help desperately!” the man says in a nervous tone, almost pleading
“You look like you’ve been travelling awhile friend, where did you come from?” I ask, narrow down his location and I’ll get more clear answers
“I come from a large farming estate in the Bannorn, we are freeholders of Bann Lorne, but things are amiss” the man says in an ominous voice
“Amiss? How so?” I ask, Bann Lorne? That name sounds familiar
“people are being taken in the night, we find them butchered and tied up in the fields the next morning, just recently Henry cross was found mutilated outside his farmstead, we suspect the Bann is involved” the farmer says almost whispering the accusation, why is he so afraid of the Bann?
“Wait....what was the name of the man you found dead?” I ask
“Henry cross ser, was found dead outside his home” the farmer replies
Mad Harry Cross, Creator’s he always used to talk about retiring to the bannorn after the war, guess his retirement was cut drastically short. Harry cross was a platoon scout back in my army days, mad as a rabid dog, he’d be out on scouting missions alone for weeks at a time, we all assumed he talked to wolves he was that feral.
Old Harry was a mad bugger that much we all knew from day one, but he had a nose for things an instinct, Mad Harry knew when something was amiss like a sixth sense, that might be why he’s no longer amongst the living, maybe Harry dug too deep and found something he wasn’t meant to. Still poor Harry, we always thought he was invincible, he survived the wilds, Darkspawn and even the spears and swords of the Bannorn, and now in peace time he gets murdered in his bed, rotten luck that.
“I know that man,an old friend, you think the Bann has something to do with all this?” I ask, the Bannorn has plenty of secluded lands, maybe Lorne likes to indulge in a spot of murder before dinnertime
“Bann Lorne is...strange...we never see him, he stays up in his estate, when he wants something he sends one of his black riders into the village” the farmer says with a fearful look
“Black riders?” never heard anything so pretentious in my life, this Bann sounds like he has a taste for theatrics, what is this Orlais!
“The Bann’s personal servants, they dress in all black armour and clothing and enter the village whenever the Bann wants something...or someone....” the farmer replies grimly
“Hmmm...How long has he been the village Bann?” I ask curious
“Since the time of Queen Moira’s rebellion Ser, apparently he was well established even then” the farmer replies
Okay I’ve chased enough horrors to know when something is off, I’m taking this case, besides old Harry needs avenging, hope the Bannorn is more welcoming this time, last time they greeted us with spears and arrows(mind you we were invading then).
“Can you lead us back to your lands?” I ask already knowing the answer
“Yes Ser” the farmer replies
“Then Count me in, Castor you might want to go pack, we’re going to the Bannorn” I say with a grin, time to get to the bottom of this, and find out who killed Harry.
They came to the farmstead in the night, the wind howled across the valley like a wolf on the hunt; they kicked the door in and found their mark sleeping in his bed. He struggled when they dragged him out into the field, but they were strong and they forced him out with kicks and blows to the head.
Now no one knows what they did to him out there on that muddy field, some say they invoked some demonic magic’s and bled him dry to satiate the hunger of the fade, others say they took knives and did things to flesh that would make sane men wretch, all the farmers knew was they found him tied to wooden poles like a bloody scarecrow, the carrion birds pecking at his eyes as soon as dawn arrived.
The villagers burned the unfortunate soul’s remains, they said nothing of the culprits in public, but every one of them looked to Bann Lorne’s hilltop estates and knew the truth, the Bann was no disciple of Andraste, he had done unspeakable things up in that high estate and the recent arrival of a guest from Orlais only added to the villagers hatred of their liege lord.
The Valley of Bann Lorne was said to be haunted, the Darkspawn had been here once, and their ravages had left the land fragile and prone to famines, but Bann Lorne by all accounts lived like an emperor in his high estate, braver men would sometimes spy on the estate from afar and hear the music and revels occurring inside, the Bann was a strange creature, that much could be said.
The Villagers would have been content to leave the Bann alone up on his high estate, but the murders continued, every night at the end of each month someone would go missing, and so when the fifth soul was found mutilated and bound, the villagers sent a terrified farm hand north, to the city of Denerim.
9:35 Dragon, Erian Tor’s office, Denerim Alienage
“Do you remember the time we took on that pride demon?” I ask Castor while looking out the window and remembering that event nostalgically
“What you mean do I remember running for my life and nearly soiling my breaches? Personally id rather think about the time the lass who works across the lane danced with me at the festival, but you always did have an odd memory boss” Castor replies
“Why?” he asks confused by my sudden nostalgia, if memories of an event so horrific deserve to be called that
“I sometimes wonder, and its dark sort of wonder lad, how many horrors stalk the dark corners of this land? How many creatures foul and fearful call the shadows of our dreams their home” I ask, yep I’m definitely in a dark mood
“Personally Erian I prefer to think about the horrors that are more immediate, like all those noble women at court who constantly try to get your attention, I swear those Shem women look at you like you’re a curiosity item” Castor says taking a cloth and shining his boots
“Your right, demons and ghouls are a discussion suited for another time, anything interesting going on in our fair city?” I ask knowing Castor has become disturbingly adept at discovering the happenings of Denerim
“Other than the Scarlet veil tournament preparations for later this year nothing of interest” Castor replies
“I hear the king himself is competing in the Veil this year, let’s just hope Fiona lets him do more than just stab hoops with a lance” I say with a chuckle
“Isn’t it a little early for dirty jokes?” Castor asks with a grin
“Lad I was referring to the actual tourney game of hoops, the only dirty mind here is yours” I say with a laugh
“Well in any case I think someone’s knocking on the door” Castor says rising and going down the stairs
I sigh and look out the window, rain unsurprisingly “whoever it is best have a good reason, I’d hate to turn someone away brave enough to struggle through this storm” I say taking a seat at my desk
A man caked in dirt walks into the room and takes a seat, his clothing is so covered in dust and dried mud that I have trouble believing there’s any fabric underneath all the layers of muck, I guess he’s come a long way, he’s a short nervous looking fellow, his eyes are ringed with lines of fatigue and his face is pale, he probably hasn’t stopped moving in days.
“Thank you for meeting with me Ser Erian, we need your help desperately!” the man says in a nervous tone, almost pleading
“You look like you’ve been travelling awhile friend, where did you come from?” I ask, narrow down his location and I’ll get more clear answers
“I come from a large farming estate in the Bannorn, we are freeholders of Bann Lorne, but things are amiss” the man says in an ominous voice
“Amiss? How so?” I ask, Bann Lorne? That name sounds familiar
“people are being taken in the night, we find them butchered and tied up in the fields the next morning, just recently Henry cross was found mutilated outside his farmstead, we suspect the Bann is involved” the farmer says almost whispering the accusation, why is he so afraid of the Bann?
“Wait....what was the name of the man you found dead?” I ask
“Henry cross ser, was found dead outside his home” the farmer replies
Mad Harry Cross, Creator’s he always used to talk about retiring to the bannorn after the war, guess his retirement was cut drastically short. Harry cross was a platoon scout back in my army days, mad as a rabid dog, he’d be out on scouting missions alone for weeks at a time, we all assumed he talked to wolves he was that feral.
Old Harry was a mad bugger that much we all knew from day one, but he had a nose for things an instinct, Mad Harry knew when something was amiss like a sixth sense, that might be why he’s no longer amongst the living, maybe Harry dug too deep and found something he wasn’t meant to. Still poor Harry, we always thought he was invincible, he survived the wilds, Darkspawn and even the spears and swords of the Bannorn, and now in peace time he gets murdered in his bed, rotten luck that.
“I know that man,an old friend, you think the Bann has something to do with all this?” I ask, the Bannorn has plenty of secluded lands, maybe Lorne likes to indulge in a spot of murder before dinnertime
“Bann Lorne is...strange...we never see him, he stays up in his estate, when he wants something he sends one of his black riders into the village” the farmer says with a fearful look
“Black riders?” never heard anything so pretentious in my life, this Bann sounds like he has a taste for theatrics, what is this Orlais!
“The Bann’s personal servants, they dress in all black armour and clothing and enter the village whenever the Bann wants something...or someone....” the farmer replies grimly
“Hmmm...How long has he been the village Bann?” I ask curious
“Since the time of Queen Moira’s rebellion Ser, apparently he was well established even then” the farmer replies
Okay I’ve chased enough horrors to know when something is off, I’m taking this case, besides old Harry needs avenging, hope the Bannorn is more welcoming this time, last time they greeted us with spears and arrows(mind you we were invading then).
“Can you lead us back to your lands?” I ask already knowing the answer
“Yes Ser” the farmer replies
“Then Count me in, Castor you might want to go pack, we’re going to the Bannorn” I say with a grin, time to get to the bottom of this, and find out who killed Harry.
#144
Posté 11 juin 2010 - 05:49
Gilgamesh1138
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YAY! More Erian! *does happy dance of sublime joy*
#145
Posté 13 juin 2010 - 05:39
westiex9
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Where Carrion Crows feast part 2
“Are those scavengers?” I ask pointing at the sky which is filled with black crows
“Aye, they’ve been feasting on the dead cattle lately; we’re in the middle of a draught” Farmer Hubert replies as we ride down the dusty country road that leads into the valley
“Typical, soon as things start to go awry the bloody carrion birds start to profit” Castor mutters grumpily
Bann Lorne’s lands are far from prosperous by the look of things, the dust and heat seem to fill the valley like a cloud of death and famine, the brittle soil reminds me a little of Lothering, near dead thanks to the corruption of the spawn, but no this seems far more like conventional drought, how can the Bann spend all his time in his estate with this going on?
“The village is just up ahead” Hubert says pointing to a small cluster of wooden shacks and buildings that made up the main village
“I take it most people live on their own farmsteads?” I ask
“Aye ser, the village only makes up a small group of people, the rest live on farmsteads nearby” he replies as we near the village
“So where’s this estate?” I ask
He points to a large building on the a tall hill in front of the village, even from here it seems imposing, like a dragon watching over its land from afar, it gives me a sudden case of shivers staring at it, it seems out of place for a place like the bannorn like someone decided to impose it upon the land.
“Eerie” I mutter as we ride to the nearby inn and hitch our horses outside
“This is the inn; we can stay here tonight Ser” he replies leading us inside
The smoky common room of the inn is filled with a few dour faced farmers who stare at us as we enter, the looks on their face make it seem like we have the taint and they don’t want to catch it from us, no one greets us as we enter.
“Hmmm lively crowd” castor mutters
“Let’s just get food and a bed for the night” I reply taking a seat at one of the dusty corner tables
Hubert goes over to the counter and returns with some bowls of watery lamb stew, castor looks at his bowl with a puzzled look, I eat mine without reservations, after serving in the army most food looks appetizing by comparison to the swill we got served in the service
We retire to the guest rooms as the hour grows late, Hubert insists on sleeping in a separate room despite my protests that we need to stick together, eventually though he wins the argument as I grow tired. Sleep comes easy despite the fact I’m in a village where people are dragged out of bed and butchered.
“Erian! Wake up!” Castor says startling me
“What!” I whisper staring at his panicked face
“There’s noise coming from the next room! I think someone’s in there with Hubert” he says nervously
“Alright I’m coming, Creators I hope this village doesn’t have a brothel!” I say pulling a shirt on and opening the room door
Outside the hallway I completely dark, all the torches having been removed, and the door to Hubert’s room is wide open, a trail of blood running across the floor
“I don’t like the look of this” I mutter drawing my sword, I walk slowly into the room, using the lantern from my own quarters to light the way
Hubert is sitting with his back to his bed, his face covered in scratches and knife wounds, his eyes are missing likely having been torn out, and the floor is painted with dark sigils, the paint in question being Hubert’s blood.
“Castor” I say passing the lantern to him
“I think we are going to need to move quicker with this investigation” i say pulling something loose from Hubert’s mouth and showing it to Castor
“What is it?” he says in a terrified whisper
“It’s an old chantry ward” I say staring at the ancient scrawl on the amulets face
“What does it say?” he asks noticing the strange writing
“It’s an old human prayer...I think we are dealing with blood magic” I say noticing the sigils carved into Hubert’s chest
The corpse seems to stare at me from the floor, its eyeless gaze strangely more penetrating then Hubert’s living one ever was, I notice the trail of blood leads to the bed, they must have dragged him back here when he tried to claw his way out of the room, and the window is open, almost as though the haunted bannorn plains are beckoning us to follow the trail. I resist the urge to shudder.
“Are those scavengers?” I ask pointing at the sky which is filled with black crows
“Aye, they’ve been feasting on the dead cattle lately; we’re in the middle of a draught” Farmer Hubert replies as we ride down the dusty country road that leads into the valley
“Typical, soon as things start to go awry the bloody carrion birds start to profit” Castor mutters grumpily
Bann Lorne’s lands are far from prosperous by the look of things, the dust and heat seem to fill the valley like a cloud of death and famine, the brittle soil reminds me a little of Lothering, near dead thanks to the corruption of the spawn, but no this seems far more like conventional drought, how can the Bann spend all his time in his estate with this going on?
“The village is just up ahead” Hubert says pointing to a small cluster of wooden shacks and buildings that made up the main village
“I take it most people live on their own farmsteads?” I ask
“Aye ser, the village only makes up a small group of people, the rest live on farmsteads nearby” he replies as we near the village
“So where’s this estate?” I ask
He points to a large building on the a tall hill in front of the village, even from here it seems imposing, like a dragon watching over its land from afar, it gives me a sudden case of shivers staring at it, it seems out of place for a place like the bannorn like someone decided to impose it upon the land.
“Eerie” I mutter as we ride to the nearby inn and hitch our horses outside
“This is the inn; we can stay here tonight Ser” he replies leading us inside
The smoky common room of the inn is filled with a few dour faced farmers who stare at us as we enter, the looks on their face make it seem like we have the taint and they don’t want to catch it from us, no one greets us as we enter.
“Hmmm lively crowd” castor mutters
“Let’s just get food and a bed for the night” I reply taking a seat at one of the dusty corner tables
Hubert goes over to the counter and returns with some bowls of watery lamb stew, castor looks at his bowl with a puzzled look, I eat mine without reservations, after serving in the army most food looks appetizing by comparison to the swill we got served in the service
We retire to the guest rooms as the hour grows late, Hubert insists on sleeping in a separate room despite my protests that we need to stick together, eventually though he wins the argument as I grow tired. Sleep comes easy despite the fact I’m in a village where people are dragged out of bed and butchered.
“Erian! Wake up!” Castor says startling me
“What!” I whisper staring at his panicked face
“There’s noise coming from the next room! I think someone’s in there with Hubert” he says nervously
“Alright I’m coming, Creators I hope this village doesn’t have a brothel!” I say pulling a shirt on and opening the room door
Outside the hallway I completely dark, all the torches having been removed, and the door to Hubert’s room is wide open, a trail of blood running across the floor
“I don’t like the look of this” I mutter drawing my sword, I walk slowly into the room, using the lantern from my own quarters to light the way
Hubert is sitting with his back to his bed, his face covered in scratches and knife wounds, his eyes are missing likely having been torn out, and the floor is painted with dark sigils, the paint in question being Hubert’s blood.
“Castor” I say passing the lantern to him
“I think we are going to need to move quicker with this investigation” i say pulling something loose from Hubert’s mouth and showing it to Castor
“What is it?” he says in a terrified whisper
“It’s an old chantry ward” I say staring at the ancient scrawl on the amulets face
“What does it say?” he asks noticing the strange writing
“It’s an old human prayer...I think we are dealing with blood magic” I say noticing the sigils carved into Hubert’s chest
The corpse seems to stare at me from the floor, its eyeless gaze strangely more penetrating then Hubert’s living one ever was, I notice the trail of blood leads to the bed, they must have dragged him back here when he tried to claw his way out of the room, and the window is open, almost as though the haunted bannorn plains are beckoning us to follow the trail. I resist the urge to shudder.
#146
Posté 13 juin 2010 - 01:15
Slim Warden
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This is getting creepy like a Lovecraft tale, awesome.
Modifié par Slim Warden, 13 juin 2010 - 01:38 .
#147
Posté 14 juin 2010 - 11:11
westiex9
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Where Carrion Crows Feast Part 3
The locals made almost no fuss over the gruesome death of yet another member of their community, some men just bagged up Hubert’s body and took it away, I get the feeling this happens a lot. Before the innkeeper arrives and scrubs out the bloody sigils Castor Sketches some of them in a notebook, perhaps they will help us later on.
“What now?” Castor asks staring out at the night plains
“We need to go to Harry’s old house, I’ll bet you the old crazy found something here, and he always left clues when he found something” I say as we mount our horses and head for Harry’s farmstead
“What happens if we find nothing?” Castor asks his horse trotting alongside mine
“Then we look harder, trust me Harry will have left us clues” I say spurring my horse on
“Do you hear that?” Castor yells over the sound of hooves
“Yeah we’re being following” I say spurring the horse into a full gallop
We ride into down the dusty road as fast as the horses will take us, I look back to see three horsemen chasing after us, dressed all in black, one of them draws a bow from his saddle and takes aim
“Down!” I yell grabbing Castor’s reins
The arrow flies past my head as Castor ducks low on his horse, not wanted to spend the whole ride getting shot at I pull a little surprise from my own saddle bag, a fully loaded crossbow
“Here have a bolt with my compliments!” I yell and pull the trigger, the bolt screeches across the road and spears the would be horse archer in his right eye, and he collapses from his saddle his body still being dragged across the gravel by his terrified mount
“Where did you get that crossbow?” Castor yells amazed
“I was expecting trouble so I paid a visit to the Guard armoury” I say with a grin as I place the crossbow back in the saddle
“Well don’t be patting yourself on the back too soon there’s another one coming at you with a spear!” Castor says pointing to one of the Black riders charging towards me with a large spear aimed at my chest
“Go on ahead!” I say slowing my horse, I pull the crossbow out of the saddle holster; it’s an old Orlesian model and has a metal frame, perfect for bludgeoning.
The black guard charges at me with his spear, at the last moment bring my crossbow down on his head, the metal of the crossbow smacks into the guards head crushing his skull through the helmet in a spray of blood and bone shards, he falls off his horse dead.
The final enemy rides up close to me and draws his sword in a challenge, I unsheathe my own blade and charge to meet him, our blades clash in a clatter of steel as we try to slice each other into ribbons, a slash from the guard sends my sword flying in the air, it sticks in the mud nearby just out of my reach.
I pull back narrowly avoiding a sweeping blow from his sword, I am unarmed and likely to be diced if I don’t act fast, then I remember, my lantern is still hanging from the saddle bags, I tear it lose and hurl it at the guard, it smashes into him and burning oil spills over the guards body, he leaps from his horse in agony and runs off into the night screaming as he burns, I ride over to my sword and pull it lose from the mud.
“Is there anything in that saddlebag you haven’t used to kill someone with?” Castor asks his horse trotting up to mine
“I thought I told you to ride ahead” I reply surprised
“I figured you’d need help, besides how would you find me without a lantern” he says holding his up and illuminating the area around us
“A good point, now come on let’s get to Harry’s before more show up” I say as we gallop of towards my old comrades home
If I suspected Bann Lorne of something before, the presence of his Guards only confirms that suspicion, I know
there’s blood magic involved, the sigils found on Hubert’s body prove that much, but the question is what is he using the forbidden arts for? I have a feeling I’m going to find out soon.
The locals made almost no fuss over the gruesome death of yet another member of their community, some men just bagged up Hubert’s body and took it away, I get the feeling this happens a lot. Before the innkeeper arrives and scrubs out the bloody sigils Castor Sketches some of them in a notebook, perhaps they will help us later on.
“What now?” Castor asks staring out at the night plains
“We need to go to Harry’s old house, I’ll bet you the old crazy found something here, and he always left clues when he found something” I say as we mount our horses and head for Harry’s farmstead
“What happens if we find nothing?” Castor asks his horse trotting alongside mine
“Then we look harder, trust me Harry will have left us clues” I say spurring my horse on
“Do you hear that?” Castor yells over the sound of hooves
“Yeah we’re being following” I say spurring the horse into a full gallop
We ride into down the dusty road as fast as the horses will take us, I look back to see three horsemen chasing after us, dressed all in black, one of them draws a bow from his saddle and takes aim
“Down!” I yell grabbing Castor’s reins
The arrow flies past my head as Castor ducks low on his horse, not wanted to spend the whole ride getting shot at I pull a little surprise from my own saddle bag, a fully loaded crossbow
“Here have a bolt with my compliments!” I yell and pull the trigger, the bolt screeches across the road and spears the would be horse archer in his right eye, and he collapses from his saddle his body still being dragged across the gravel by his terrified mount
“Where did you get that crossbow?” Castor yells amazed
“I was expecting trouble so I paid a visit to the Guard armoury” I say with a grin as I place the crossbow back in the saddle
“Well don’t be patting yourself on the back too soon there’s another one coming at you with a spear!” Castor says pointing to one of the Black riders charging towards me with a large spear aimed at my chest
“Go on ahead!” I say slowing my horse, I pull the crossbow out of the saddle holster; it’s an old Orlesian model and has a metal frame, perfect for bludgeoning.
The black guard charges at me with his spear, at the last moment bring my crossbow down on his head, the metal of the crossbow smacks into the guards head crushing his skull through the helmet in a spray of blood and bone shards, he falls off his horse dead.
The final enemy rides up close to me and draws his sword in a challenge, I unsheathe my own blade and charge to meet him, our blades clash in a clatter of steel as we try to slice each other into ribbons, a slash from the guard sends my sword flying in the air, it sticks in the mud nearby just out of my reach.
I pull back narrowly avoiding a sweeping blow from his sword, I am unarmed and likely to be diced if I don’t act fast, then I remember, my lantern is still hanging from the saddle bags, I tear it lose and hurl it at the guard, it smashes into him and burning oil spills over the guards body, he leaps from his horse in agony and runs off into the night screaming as he burns, I ride over to my sword and pull it lose from the mud.
“Is there anything in that saddlebag you haven’t used to kill someone with?” Castor asks his horse trotting up to mine
“I thought I told you to ride ahead” I reply surprised
“I figured you’d need help, besides how would you find me without a lantern” he says holding his up and illuminating the area around us
“A good point, now come on let’s get to Harry’s before more show up” I say as we gallop of towards my old comrades home
If I suspected Bann Lorne of something before, the presence of his Guards only confirms that suspicion, I know
there’s blood magic involved, the sigils found on Hubert’s body prove that much, but the question is what is he using the forbidden arts for? I have a feeling I’m going to find out soon.
#148
Posté 15 juin 2010 - 05:45
Gilgamesh1138
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I love how you describe fight scenes westie! And I love Castor, is there anything in those saddlebags you haven't killed anyone with yet? OMFG! I almost snorted my wine! LOVE this! MOAR please! *makes grabby hands*
#150
Posté 20 juin 2010 - 02:50
westiex9
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Where Carrion Crows Feast Chapter 3
The house my old comrade dwelled in is mass of decaying wood and mouldering furniture, Harry liked to slum it he just wasn’t used to comfort in any form, the bedroom speaks volumes about Harry’s last days amongst the living, Books and notes lie strewn across the bed and floor, I pick up one and open it on a random page to see mad things scrawled across the pages.
“Whatever old Harry was looking for must have consumed his entire existence” Castor mutters staring at the rank and decrepit room
“He always was a single minded person, it’s what made him a master scout, you’d give him a job and he’d carry it out without a thought for anything else, even himself” I say as I search the books on his bed
“There are so many tomes here! How does a mad old Scout gain all this?”Castor asks confused
“I used to ask the same question when he located whole sections of the Bannorn army or predicted the movements of Darkspawn bands, the guy was a nutcase Castor, normal rules that we follow just didn’t apply to him, if he needed to do something he just found a way” I say remembering his crazed and unshaven face, he used to give us all the creeps, but he was a reliable man, we all owed him our lives many times over by the Blights end.
“Hey what’s this?” Castor says picking up a massive padlocked book
“Err...A book” I reply
Castor ignores me and breaks the lock with a whack of a hammer from his pack, he opens it on the last written entry and begins to scan the page for anything of interest, after a short time he stops and stares up with a curious look on his face, clearly trying to understand what he’s just read.
“Well?” I ask
“It’s written in Tevinter, the last passage is just a sentence...it says “The Blood of the earth, he leaches the blood and binds it to his walls and through the blood erects a fortress against man’s eldest foe” he says reading out the ominous sounding passage
“Since when could you read Tevinter?” I ask, seriously where did Castor learn to do that?
“Spent the last year learning old languages from Sister Justine in my spare time, worth every penny I paid” he replies with a grin, well at least this explains the boy’s lack of a girlfriend, far too much free time for his own good, I need to make the lad work harder clearly
“Riiiiggghhhhttt well it seems to have paid off, okay so we know this Bann Lorne has been using blood magic, if that passage was hand written it must have been Harry trying to tell us something” I say hand on chin in thinking pose
“Well, blood magic relies on stealing life from others for your own means right, so if these murders are all linked by blood sigils, maybe he’s trying to steal more than just men’s life blood” Castor says with a disturbed look
“You mean to tell me he’s actually using dark magic to leech the very life from the land?” I reply bothered by those implications
“Well the land is a living thing, perhaps the sacrifices are a means of getting to the lands, that would explain the one a month thing” Castor replies
“So these murders are a way of leeching the earth of its vitality, and the victims are....well a channel...Creators.... I hate blood mages” I reply disgusted
“So what are we going to do?” Castor asks
“You’re going to warn the locals, I’m going to deal with this Bann Lorne” I reply
“You’re going to take on a blood mage all by yourself? A blood mage I might add of such power he may have been around since King Brandel’s time? Okay.... have you gone mad too?” Castor blurts out shocked
“That’s exactly why I’m sending you to the village, speak with the Elder or sheriff or whoever runs things there and convince them to send help, preferably a large band of peasants with torches and pitchforks....but I’ll take a standard angry mob aid if I have to I’m not picky” I reply with a reassuring grin
“Okay then, but be careful, I really don’t think this guy is going to enjoy uninvited guests” Castor says, I am about to say something when I hear a sound coming from outside in the distance, I leave Harry’s hovel and stare out across the darkened plain
“What is that?” Castor asks
I begin to make out shadowy figures marching in the distance, their forms illuminated by torches and lanterns, their coming towards this Shack, and I suspect they are not here to have a friendly chat over tea and bloody biscuits; I’m beginning to wonder if every village off the beaten path is full of unhinged cultists.
“Get the horses, it’s time to leave” I say grabbing the lantern off Castor
“Err...Erian dare I ask what you’re going to do with that Lantern?” Castor asks with a suspicious look
“House cleaning Castor” I reply with a calm look, I throw the lantern into the Mouldering old bedroom; the books and furniture begin to burn as the fire spreads across the floor. Bann Lorne’s weird little fan club will be distracted by that fire while we escape into the night.
“if this is your idea of house Cleaning I’m hiring a maid when we get back to your office in Denerim, no bloody way I’m letting you take up domestic jobs after that!” Castor grumbles as we ride away from the house
“Pity, I was thinking of re-decorating when we got back, oh well” I reply with mock disappointment
We ride on until we reach a back road near the village, its dark but we can see our respective destination from here, Castors in the village, mine on the hill above it, I really hope the Bann isn’t adverse to uninvited guests; I have a terrible habit of breaking and entering.
“Head to the village and rouse a rabble lad, I may need one of those incensed gangs before this is over” I say as we head down the road
“Alright, and Erian...Good luck” he says with a smile
I nod and grin back before spurring my horse on down the long grass towards Bann Lorne’s manor, time to make my introductions, oh and probably kill him too, whatever works.
The house my old comrade dwelled in is mass of decaying wood and mouldering furniture, Harry liked to slum it he just wasn’t used to comfort in any form, the bedroom speaks volumes about Harry’s last days amongst the living, Books and notes lie strewn across the bed and floor, I pick up one and open it on a random page to see mad things scrawled across the pages.
“Whatever old Harry was looking for must have consumed his entire existence” Castor mutters staring at the rank and decrepit room
“He always was a single minded person, it’s what made him a master scout, you’d give him a job and he’d carry it out without a thought for anything else, even himself” I say as I search the books on his bed
“There are so many tomes here! How does a mad old Scout gain all this?”Castor asks confused
“I used to ask the same question when he located whole sections of the Bannorn army or predicted the movements of Darkspawn bands, the guy was a nutcase Castor, normal rules that we follow just didn’t apply to him, if he needed to do something he just found a way” I say remembering his crazed and unshaven face, he used to give us all the creeps, but he was a reliable man, we all owed him our lives many times over by the Blights end.
“Hey what’s this?” Castor says picking up a massive padlocked book
“Err...A book” I reply
Castor ignores me and breaks the lock with a whack of a hammer from his pack, he opens it on the last written entry and begins to scan the page for anything of interest, after a short time he stops and stares up with a curious look on his face, clearly trying to understand what he’s just read.
“Well?” I ask
“It’s written in Tevinter, the last passage is just a sentence...it says “The Blood of the earth, he leaches the blood and binds it to his walls and through the blood erects a fortress against man’s eldest foe” he says reading out the ominous sounding passage
“Since when could you read Tevinter?” I ask, seriously where did Castor learn to do that?
“Spent the last year learning old languages from Sister Justine in my spare time, worth every penny I paid” he replies with a grin, well at least this explains the boy’s lack of a girlfriend, far too much free time for his own good, I need to make the lad work harder clearly
“Riiiiggghhhhttt well it seems to have paid off, okay so we know this Bann Lorne has been using blood magic, if that passage was hand written it must have been Harry trying to tell us something” I say hand on chin in thinking pose
“Well, blood magic relies on stealing life from others for your own means right, so if these murders are all linked by blood sigils, maybe he’s trying to steal more than just men’s life blood” Castor says with a disturbed look
“You mean to tell me he’s actually using dark magic to leech the very life from the land?” I reply bothered by those implications
“Well the land is a living thing, perhaps the sacrifices are a means of getting to the lands, that would explain the one a month thing” Castor replies
“So these murders are a way of leeching the earth of its vitality, and the victims are....well a channel...Creators.... I hate blood mages” I reply disgusted
“So what are we going to do?” Castor asks
“You’re going to warn the locals, I’m going to deal with this Bann Lorne” I reply
“You’re going to take on a blood mage all by yourself? A blood mage I might add of such power he may have been around since King Brandel’s time? Okay.... have you gone mad too?” Castor blurts out shocked
“That’s exactly why I’m sending you to the village, speak with the Elder or sheriff or whoever runs things there and convince them to send help, preferably a large band of peasants with torches and pitchforks....but I’ll take a standard angry mob aid if I have to I’m not picky” I reply with a reassuring grin
“Okay then, but be careful, I really don’t think this guy is going to enjoy uninvited guests” Castor says, I am about to say something when I hear a sound coming from outside in the distance, I leave Harry’s hovel and stare out across the darkened plain
“What is that?” Castor asks
I begin to make out shadowy figures marching in the distance, their forms illuminated by torches and lanterns, their coming towards this Shack, and I suspect they are not here to have a friendly chat over tea and bloody biscuits; I’m beginning to wonder if every village off the beaten path is full of unhinged cultists.
“Get the horses, it’s time to leave” I say grabbing the lantern off Castor
“Err...Erian dare I ask what you’re going to do with that Lantern?” Castor asks with a suspicious look
“House cleaning Castor” I reply with a calm look, I throw the lantern into the Mouldering old bedroom; the books and furniture begin to burn as the fire spreads across the floor. Bann Lorne’s weird little fan club will be distracted by that fire while we escape into the night.
“if this is your idea of house Cleaning I’m hiring a maid when we get back to your office in Denerim, no bloody way I’m letting you take up domestic jobs after that!” Castor grumbles as we ride away from the house
“Pity, I was thinking of re-decorating when we got back, oh well” I reply with mock disappointment
We ride on until we reach a back road near the village, its dark but we can see our respective destination from here, Castors in the village, mine on the hill above it, I really hope the Bann isn’t adverse to uninvited guests; I have a terrible habit of breaking and entering.
“Head to the village and rouse a rabble lad, I may need one of those incensed gangs before this is over” I say as we head down the road
“Alright, and Erian...Good luck” he says with a smile
I nod and grin back before spurring my horse on down the long grass towards Bann Lorne’s manor, time to make my introductions, oh and probably kill him too, whatever works.
