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[Gilgamesh1138]

OH MY!!!!! Run Erian run! Oh Westie! I am so glad I got to catch up! Fantastic as always. MOAR please!

[westiex9]

Chapter 4

I’ve faced demons, stared down blood mages without flinching and yes even dealt with mass murderers who would have flayed me without a second thought...but the thing that scares me more than any of those horrors...is torture.

Back in the army Loghain had specialists who did the dirty work of maiming and breaking prisoner and traitor alike, I used to hear the screams from my tent at night and I could swear sometimes that I could hear laughter, the sort of sadistic mocking laugh that only a person delighting in another’s suffering could have.

The sight of damp moss covered brick, clanking chains and a barred cell brings all my old fears of the torture to life, it’s not that I’m looking at the horrors up close...it’s that I’m being forced to wait in this silent and empty cell leaving my imagination free to conjure up all kinds of terrifying possibilities and scenarios.

“Creators who does the decorating for these places?” Valerie says in the darkness

“Valerie where are you?!” I call back

“oh you know I’m shouting from the palace in Val Royeux, Celene is having me round for tea and we’re trying on fancy dresses...I’m in the cell opposite yours genius!” Valerie replies making no attempt to hide her sarcasm

“We need to get out of here before Tom and...Whoever he’s working with get back” I say searching my cell for a means of escape

The cell is small and reeks of the filth and straw, everything around me seems to show signs of decay or damage from the battered brick walls to the cracked stone floor, but the bars between me and freedom are new and seem to mock me silently with their polished metal forms, looks like breaking the bars is not going to be an option.

“I have an idea...but you’re not going to like it” Valerie says from the darkness

She’s not kidding, Valerie’s plans tend to involve a lot of gambling and risk, and the last time I went along with one of her “plans” I ended up running down a busy Denerim street with my pants around my ankles to escape the local militia, but then that’s a story for another time.

“At this point I’m willing to try anything tell me your plan” I say with a resigned sigh, running down a street butt naked would certainly beat being maimed by a crazed murderer in a dank cell

“we need to trap the trapper, get him mad and then once he’s out of control knock him out and take the keys to the cells” Valerie says with a sly tone


Goading my captor in his own lair, most times that sort of strategy is last ditch stuff and fails miserably...but I know Tom...I know exactly what to say to get him angry, but  angry enough to try and open the doors to take a swing at me? I guess ill soon find out.


“Alright then, we’ll spring a trap on our trapper” I whisper agreeing with Valerie, and no sooner have the words left my lips then a door opens somewhere up the stairs, our host is home for a visit, time to give a pleasant welcome.

The elf known as Tom entered the room with a noticeable shuffle in his feet, he moved like someone who had been crippled in one leg, and he dragged one foot along limping down the stairs like some maimed animal.

As he got closer Valerie could see the malnourished form of his body from which clothing hung barely able to fit his large frame, his clothes were ragged and torn and his face seemed drained of all youthful vigour. It was like something was eating away at him from within, like a sea of ravenous maggots had crawled down his vile ears and eaten their fill of his insides.

Valerie watched as he shuffled towards Erians cell and shoved a bowel of something vile under the door, Valerie could barely see Erian’s features from the darkness of her own cell but she knew he was grinning, Erian always did when he was about to get violent.

“Awww poor lamb!  You’re not looking so good Tom, should I call your mommy?” Erian said in a mocking tone before laughing condescendingly

 “Shut up! The master will be back soon...and then you won’t be so cocky!” Tom said glaring at Erian from across the bars

“Always the lackey and never the leader, it’s no wonder your father got lynched with a weak son like you” Erian said in a harsh voice

This makes Tom angry and he nearly tears the door off its hinges as he forces it open, Erian kneeling on the floor with his hands bound in rope simply let Tom rain blows down upon his unprotected face, the sound of fists pounding against flesh and bone was sickening and Valerie felt a sudden bout of Nausea coming on.

Erian began to laugh causing Tom to pause for a moment and stare down at his bloodied prisoner with a confused look on his face; Valerie held her breath her chest pounding as she sensed the coming violence.

“You always were bloody impulsive, a mangy stray without a leash” Erian said in a cold voice

Before Tom could say or do anything Erian leapt at him like a bolt of lightning, he used the rope that bound his arms as a weapon and forced Tom against the bars of the cell where he began to choke the breath from Tom’s body, Tom struggled against Erian trying to kick and shove but Erian held him firmly in place and then with a violent twist of his arms broke Tom’s neck with a sickening crack.

Tom Fell forward and lay face down his blood pooling around him, his head on its side and his eyes beginning to go glassy as death began its inevitable and unstoppable progress. Erian pulled a knife from Tom’s belt and began to cut the rope binding his arms, he then picked up the cell key and stepped casually over Tom’s broken and soon to be dead body.

“Looks like Tom lived up to his nickname of blood-soaked after all, though not in the way he planned” Erian said with a grin across his battered face

Valerie smiled back “we should go before anyone else arrives” Valerie said as Erian unlocked her cell door

They left the basement together ascending the creaking stairs and walking out into the murky daylight which was almost blinding after the time they had spent in near total darkness, they stood in the deserted old courtyard of what must have been a slaughterhouse at one point

“That explains the cells, they were keeping us in a bloody abattoir” Valerie said kicking a loose stone with her boot

Erian sighed and stared up at the dark rain clouds massing in the sky above, Tom was dead...or would be soon enough and yet they still had no idea who he had been working with, and nothing worried Erian like unknown blood mages did,  Erian had a hunch but he desperately wanted to be wrong.

“Wonder where the bastard’s partner is?” Valerie said staring at Erian

Before Erian could answer a screeching sound tore through the air like a thousand nails on an old chalk board and the sky above filled with a tar like shape that seemed to darken the entire district with its presence, Erian had no time to speak or scream but he knew the answer to Valerie's question even as the inky darkness tore through the air and engulfed him.

Tom's master had returned and it had decided to possess a new host, Erian stared at Valerie as the world began to fade into darkness, she screamed and then everything went black like a candle being snuffed out by an evening wind. And as terror filled the skies of Denerim above ground, a slither of some unseen evil crawled into the ear of the dying Tom and drew him away too.

Authors note: apologies for taking so long to get this chapter out, but it appears that between university Exams and Hospital work i have a few life consuming demons of my own to contend with! Next chapter the story concludes with a show down in the fade.

Modifié par westiex9, 09 novembre 2010 - 10:59 .

[westiex9]

Chapter 5

The fade is like an endless sea of nightmares and dreamscapes, a twisted mirror of the waking world which can only be glimpsed by the unconscious soul, least that’s what every mage I’ve ever spoken with had to say about this place. Never believed I’d have to visit it in person, I’ve become a sort of involuntary tourist you might say.

I awake in near total darkness, the rattle of chains and the moans of tormented souls filling my ears, the beast has dragged me into his realm and I’m guessing he’s not brought me all this way for a nice chat over wine and veal.

It takes my eyes time to get used to the blackness surrounding me, eventually things become clear and I realize I’m in a vast underground catacomb. I stare up at the roof of the tunnels, it’s high above my head and seems to expand out into the void forever, this place was not built by mortal a hand that’s for sure.

“Creators have bleeding mercy!” I yell horrified at my eyes new discovery

At first id thought that the moans and whimpering sounds filling the air were some trick of the wind, assuming the fade has wind that is, but as I look up I see that the voices have a source, thousands of flayed and impaled bodies chained to the darkened void above....it’s a munting roof of flesh!

It gets worse as I can swear I can recognize some of the faces hanging up there on hooks and chains, Vima, Mad harry, Nemera...even castor and my own father.....this can’t be real but every instinct is telling me it is.

“don’t stare up there too long friend, that’s how this place starts to break you” a disembodied voice says startling me with its booming pitch, it reminds me of the sound cavalry horns would make during the civil war when Loghain’s knights would charge the enemy.

“Who is that?! Show yourself!” I call out fearfully before reaching for my boot knife...still in its rightful place oddly enough

“Don’t bother drawing that thing, I mean you no harm” the voice says, a figure steps out of the darkness...well actually the darkness seems to dissolve around him...he’s a walking source of light!


A figure in the form of an armoured night moves towards me, he seems ethereal and not quite solid and yet he radiates a sort of solid presence around him...is it even a him? I release my hold on the knife still amazed it’s here with me and sigh relieved to not be in this place alone.

“Who or...what are you?” I ask the glowing figure’

“I believe you would know me as a spirit of valour...I am a prisoner here like you” he says with what almost sounds like a weary voice, or at least it would if not for that horn like pitch

“Where am I?” I ask staring around confused

The figure pauses for a moment as if readying itself to deliver bad news; I wonder briefly how often this “valour” has had to explain the situation to mortals like myself, then the booming voice fills my ears again.

“The one you know as the “Beast” rules this realm and brings its victims here...it has done so many times...I felt its presence when it pulled you both into the fade” valour says grimly

Both? Looks like I’m not the only one here for an extended stay in the beast’s home, but why bring Tom here as well? He was bound to be dying or dead by the time I left the cellar...I broke his damn neck!

“Wait...There’s another “victim” here?” I ask surprised

“when the beast entered your world it had to take on a host to preserve itself, perhaps that link became necessary after it used up most of its energy bringing you here...it must greatly desire your suffering” Valour answers in an
uncertain voice

I sigh and then begin to chuckle slightly, the damn thing really does hate my guts...it near drained itself brining me here and needed to keep Tom’s spirit around for sustenance, looks like it made a mistake that I can use against it.

“If it’s using the other mortal to sustain itself...would severing the connection between the two be enough to destroy the Beast?” I ask in a hopeful voice, it might not bleed but I’m damn sure Tom does.

“There is no certainty that killing the Host of the Beast will “destroy” it but...it’s never acted this way before, perhaps it could finally be defeated” Valour replies sounding rather hopeful itself

I smile, perhaps is better than an outright no, looks like I have a chance to give this monster a piece of my mind. I draw the boot knife, I don’t know how it got here but I don’t intend to complain about its presence, this might not even the real thing but it feels solid as ever in my hand, solid enough to cut the flesh of my enemies.

“So how do we get out of this dingy little corner of the beyond” I ask with a grin

The spirit seems to gaze into my soul despite not having any eyes to stare “there is a barrier up ahead that I have never been able to pass” valour replies darkly

“I’m not going to have to rush about between a series of weird planes unlocking the way to the beasts heart am I?” I ask jokingly

Valour stares at me as if it’s not sure whether or not to reply “no it’s just a barrier, it seems to block spirits like myself...but it’s never been used against a mortal before” valour says in a suggestive tone

I smile, looks like I have a chance after all, the beast made a big mistake when it pulled me into the fade, it expended most of its strength and left itself in a weak bond in order to survive...its lust for revenge is going to be its undoing. 

“Then let’s get to it shiny...I’m eager to be away from this place” I say sheathing my blade and moving into the darkened passage way ahead of us

“Wait...If I am to accompany you...I think it would be best if I...hitched a ride” the spirit says moving towards me with an outstretched hand

I recoil from it suddenly; I’ve seen possession too many times to be comfortable with the idea, the spirit stops hand still outstretched

“Please...you must trust me, if we are to survive this place I need to join with you...” it says almost pleading, well in as much as a valour spirit is able to plead

I look at the spirit for a moment, I’ve heard these are the types of spirits you do want to meet in the fade...still this place is known for deception and how can I be sure I won’t just end up a pawn to some demon? I decide I don’t have much choice and stretch out my hand to grip the spirits.

My vision suddenly fills with blinding golden light and a thousand chaotic images fill my mind and soul, searing them into my memory. Valour came here untold eons ago to bring an end to the Beast’s gruesome hold on this corner of the fade, instead it was beaten and left to rot in the darkest depths of the Beast’s stronghold where it grew weak and close to despair, but now it will suffer no longer because revenge is at hand.


When the images finally cease their invasion of my mind I stare into the now illuminated darkness, a new strength and purpose fills me and I break into a sprint effortlessly, time to finish this.

The barrier standing between us and the Beast is a vast and gruesome door constructed out of what could only be the skeletal remains of countless slain creatures, it is likely just an illusion of the fade but its still and eerie site. At least it would be if not for the fact I have a Valour spirit inside me.

I reach out almost by instinct and slam my fist, now blazing with Valour’s light, into the door the impact sending shards of bone in every direction, a vast crack begins to rise up the gate and soon it collapses in on itself crashing to the ground in a cloud of bone dust.

“Knock knock!” I yell with a voice not entirely my own as I enter the darkened hall body glowing unnaturally

The Beast sits on a vast throne in the centre of the hall, in the centre of the room lies Tom on a vast altar close to the Pride demon, the two are close together likely so the beast can feed of the murderous little bastards mind.

“You mortals are so persistent!!! It would have been better for you to have submitted, but no matter I shall make you my slaves regardless!” the beast hisses its vile speech filling my head

“The other...Slay the other!” Valour calls out tearing itself free from my body

I nod as the ancient spirit strides toward the beast ready to do battle with it a second time, the beast raises a hand and arcane energies surge and boil through the air towards Tom’s battered form lying on the altar. Tom leaps up with a start and glares at me with a look of pure malice, looks like I didn’t do a good enough job killing him the first time.

“You bastard, I’m going to kill you Erian and then I’m going to go back to Denerim and kill your lady friend” Tom growls picking up a bone hilted knife and snapping his shattered neck back in place with a sickening crack

In front of us Valour and the Beast are busy fighting a battle that began eons before my ancestors were young, Valour slashing at the Beast with his ghostly blade and dodge the monstrous claws that attempt to swipe at it.

“I was bested by you once, but this time I won’t be so easily broken!” Valour cries stabbing its blade deep into the Beast’s right arm soliciting an angered roar from the demon

Tom rushes towards me knife raised and poised to stab at my eyes, I bring my own blade up and block his attack the clang of discordant metal filling the air as I do so, I push him back with a violent shove and knock him onto the altar on his back, he kicks me in the face with a well placed foot as I rush forward intent on delivering the killing blow.

Tom lets out a rage filled roar and leaps at me knocking me to the ground as he stabs wildly trying to find his mark in my unprotected flesh. I bring my fist towards his head smashing into his jaw with a vicious uppercut punch which knocks him off me and leaves him sprawled on his sided.

I move towards him blade in hand, he lies there on the stone ground wheezing violently, Tom is clearly not long for this world due to his body in the real world being on the verge of death and all that remains now is to finish him off once and for all.

“You’re all the same, you, Mother, the Humans....all monsters deserving to die....” Tom hisses his voice filling with hatred

“Monsters? You killed your own mother!” I yell angrily

“She deserved it! All the ones I did in deserved to die! The world let my father die...Mother did nothing; just let them hang him....so I decided to let the world suffer with me...to make all the callous ****s in the world feel my pain...I just wanted to make everyone as miserable as I was!” he says spitting in my direction

And so that’s why Tom kills, he wants to take revenge on the entire world for his loss, wants to make life pay for what happened to his father, he’s a mad child having a bloodthirsty tantrum and he wants everyone to be consumed by it.

My grip on the knife tightens, I wonder if I can kill him with it given the fact it might not even be real, Valour calls out to me from his position, the spirit is growing weaker with each passing moment and I can feel it, the charge against the Beast must have used up the majority of its power.

“He’s bound to the Beast now, use the knife!!” the valour cries out

The Beast howls in a nightmarish voice that chills my very soul, the howling fills the room and pierces my very thoughts making me cry out in pain and grip my head, Tom starts to laugh madly as I grip my head, my grip on the knife is loosening, but I have to fight the voices in my head or I’ll never leave this place!


Struggling against the pain I focus on Toms bloodied face and with a roar I drive my blade into his neck, his eyes fill with shock at the length of steel protruding from his neck and he begins to choke on his own blood, the beast also begins to scream and howl as a sea of gore flows from its vile maw.

“B-b-bastard...you did me in...But you’ll still never see her again...” Tom says forcing the words from his bloodied lips; he starts to laugh at me all the while slowly drowning in his own blood

His threat of me never seeing Valerie again strikes a nerve and I tear the blade from his throat with a sudden and violent motion, this monster that has haunted me for so long will die now and it will be at my hands, I grip his throat and begin to squeeze the life from him watching as his eyes bulge in their sockets and grow cold...he’s dead in moments and I let his head fall back on the stone, my hands still sticky blood.

The Beast’s howling fills the air with its inhuman sound, and the ground and walls of this twisted sanctum are shaking as their creator dies, the entire place is beginning to collapse in on itself, I wonder briefly if I’m going to die here...buried for all eternity with my enemies.

Valour strides over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, in an instant we vanish from the room just as the roof begins to crack and rubble begins to fall on the stone floor below. We reappear on a small island in the middle of a sea of nothingness, the shards of something black and ancient the only sight other then the void.

“Creators that was too bloody close for comfort!” I yell my voice trailing off into the abyss

Valour laughs suddenly, a strange sound to hear from a spirit of the fade, the booming voice filling the void around us like a horn in an empty hall.

“The time I have waited to see that vile fortress topple would measure millennia in your mortal years” Valour says thoughtfully

I sigh and stare out into the void of the fade, I wonder briefly if there is any chance of escape from this place, after a long pause I turn to speak again

“So what happens now? Is the Beast gone?” I ask

“Nothing is certain Erian, we know nothing more in the fade then you do in the mortal world about what occurs after life, perhaps the Beast is gone for good or maybe it was merely banished for a time, either way I doubt it will be troubling anyone in the immediate future” Valour says reassuringly

“Then that leaves me with just one problem, how do I get home?” I ask nervously

“Look at your hand” Valour says

I stare at my palm and feel a sudden nausea, like the entire universe is spinning around me; I’m slowly vanishing from this realm as the Beast’s influence dies away...Fading from the Fade so to speak.


“Goodbye Erian, Time to wake up” the voice of the valour says as everything goes dark around me, the last thing I remember before everything goes black is the terrified feeling of being pulled away, again.

 I awake some time later in the bedroom of my own house, the sun shines in from the rafters of the roof and I can’t help but wonder if this is another trick of the Fade, Valerie sits by my Bedside her head tilted back as she catches a few tired moments of rest, I don’t know how long I’ve been out but she looks like she’s been here a long time.

“Creators...I’m getting too old for this” I groan sitting up

Valerie wakes with a surprised start her eyes filling with joy at the sight of me conscious “Erian! Thank the Gods! I was...Worried for a while there” she says sincerely

“No tears of joy...maybe a weepy affirmation of my brilliance...Breakfast in bed would be nice too” I say with a sarcastic grin on my face

“Pfffttt where do you think we are Orlais?” she replies with a chuckle, Valerie isn’t one for Tears having shed enough of them in her life already, seeing me alive and well was enough for her

I pull off the covers and rise from my bed with a wearied yawn and stretch, my body feels stiff and I begin to wonder how long I’ve been in that bed

“How long was I gone?” I ask staring at Valerie

“Four days, we were worried you were never going to wake up” she replies some of the worry she must have experienced filling her eyes for a few moments

Four days, well time does run at a different course in the Fade, still I’ve been out a long time by anyone’s
standards, and even longer by Valerie’s since she doesn’t stay put in one place that long usually.

“So what happens now? Are you staying long?” I ask worried about the disappointment that will likely follow the question

She stares at the ground deep in thought, Valerie has never been one to stay put at least not since she left, she’s weighing the metaphorical scales as she thinks things over and I know that whatever she chooses is going to be a difficult course of action for her, stay or go she stands to lose something.

“I’m not much for staying put anywhere, it’s something I get from the Dalish I guess, but all that roaming takes its toll...it’s a lonely world out there and even the majesty of Orlais can seem grey and mute when your solitary, something between us has always clicked and realizing I stood to lose all that was a big deal, perhaps I will leave one day for the road again but for now let’s see how staying put works for us “ she says with a slight smile on her face, a look of cautious optimism in her eyes

I smile and embrace her as if she was going to run away and leave me forever if I let go, and she might yet do so, I can’t be certain that I’ll have much time with her but then you can never be certain of anything in this life. For now it’s enough to see her face and hear her voice again, I’ll worry about the rest later.

“Never thought I’d have to go to the Fade and back to hear those words” I say with a chuckle

Outside the sun fills the sky with its bright glow and I hear the bustle of the Alienage, if this is a dream I never want to wake up.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

[Gilgamesh1138]

OMG!!!!! I get my Erian fix, and my Westie fix! AWESOME! Love the ending. YAY Val is going to stay for the moment. Your description of the Fade, and the Beast! *Shivers* Loved Valor too! I couldn't stop reading! Thanks Westie, I consider this a Yule present.

[westiex9]

Hehe glad you like it, hope you in the mood for furry horrors...the next one has werewolves in it!!(runs to hide as the sound of howling fills the air!)

[Gilgamesh1138]

I LOVE werewolves! I can't wait! Well, I guess I can, because I have to. ROFL!

[westiex9]

The wolf of Denerim
 
As the city of Denerim enters its coldest winter in years something unnatural stalks the midnight streets leaving a trail of mutilated corpses in its wake, the Werewolf has come to Denerim and now the citizens of Ferelden’s capital shall be its prey.
 
As a member of the City Guard Erian is called in to assist in hunting what every assumes is a depraved serial killer, but a mortal killer all the same, but as the trail grows wider and increasingly grisly Erian realizes the terrible truth, the killer stalking Denerim is no man and it will take ruthless cunning to end its reign of blood.
 
Chapter 1
 
The winter air was like a thousand shards like teeth biting into naked flesh with an icy sting, it was getting close to midnight as the taverns began to close their doors and the drunkards began to stumble from their many doors like some vast ale breathed army. The streets were all but deserted other then the mob of revellers heading home, it was after all the last night of Satinalia and most respectable people were getting their last hours of sleep before work and normal life resumed in the morning.
 
 
Work was one thing that the three tattered souls leaving the cheapest ale house in Denerim would not have to worry about in the morning, a normal day for Horrigan, Dunn and Douglas involved far less pleasant realities. Over the course of the Festivities the city eased up a little on it’s most destitute, the Chantry gave out donations of food and money whilst also offering shelter to the homeless within its walls, the guard’s beatings were less frequent too and passerby’s had larger purses and were slightly less tight with them too.
 
But tomorrow the city would return to its usual apathy and all the charity would cease, the guards would beat the homeless if they were spotted in respectable areas, the chantry would claim their poverty was a sign of their sins and they would be lucky if Passerby’s didn’t step on them. That was normal for the three tattered men leaving the alehouse, the best they could hope for tonight was a warm dark corner of an alley and a few hours of nightmare ridden sleep.
 
They lay around a dim garbage fire in a rundown back alley, Horrigan took a gulp from the large skin of ale they had bought with the last of their begging money and passed it to Dunn who drank too much as usual causing Douglas to complain and throw threats of a beating in their direction.  The fire was weak and barely able to bring any warmth to their ragged frames; Horrigan reached inside his shirt and pulled out a silver chantry pendant which shined in the firelight.
 
The pendant had belonged to Horrigan’s daughter, it was all he had left of his old she, but she had been killed years ago when the city was attacked during the blight, he’d found her bloodied corpse on the floor of their old shop, something had died with her when the attack happened and he had never been able to recover, so instead he wandered around the cities darkened alehouses trying to drink his misery away.
 
Dunn said something in an offensive tone and struck a nerve with Douglas who rose from his ragged bed and walked towards Dunn, the two began arguing aggressively and punches would soon follow, Horrigan sighed and put the pendant back in his shirt, he didn’t want to be the peacemaker tonight.
 
“Munting Blight wolf!! Should knock you cold here and now!” Douglas yelled raising a fist in a threatening gesture
 
Dunn moved back and picked up a battered old piece of wood that had been lying on the floor and began backing away from the fire while tempting Douglas to follow, he kept moving backwards still yelling and taunting Douglas until he bumped into something hard and turned, the piece of wood fell from his hand and clattered on the cobbled stones with a loud echo.
 
Dunn barely managed to let out a scream as a large blade talon wrapped itself around his head and tore him away into the darkness, Douglas turned to run in the opposite direction, but as he ran into the shadows Horrigan heard him scream out, Douglas kept screaming and the sound of growling and slicing filled the air along with Douglas’s increasingly agonising screams, which were eventually silenced by what sounded like a blade slicing into something wet.
 
 
The fire went out as something big raced past so quickly that it seemed more like a shadow covered blur to Horrigan’s eyes, Horrigan sat frozen in place and pulling the pendant out began to mumble and whimper what was half an attempt at a prayer and half a horrified weeping. He had soiled himself and the smell of urine and faeces now clung to the air as he sat alone in the darkness.
 
The sound of water dripping into a puddle filled the air Drip, Drip, Drip
 
Horrigan crawled back the sound filling his ears Drip,Drip,Drip
 
His heart was racing faster and faster as though it was going to smash through his ribs and run out into the streets, the dripping stopped for a moment and Horrigan sat still holding his breath, a heavy thud and the sound of something like a dog’s breathing filled the air, Drip,Drip,Drip....
 
Everything remained silent for a few briefs moments....a dark shape moved into view and leapt at Horrigan, he gripped the pendant and screamed, then the thing was upon him its claws and teeth shredding through his ragged clothing and into his flesh, he screamed louder and louder.

 
Then after a few moments everything went quiet again except for the sound of water falling into a puddle Drip,Drip,Drip......

**************************************************************************************************************
 
It’s the morning after the last night of Satinalia as I make my way through the ranks of city guardsmen blocking the alley, most of them look tired or ill tempered likely due to the fact the entire city is still shaking of the past weeks revels like a sailor with a bad hangover. Inside the alley it’s like a scene from the abattoir, blood splatters cover the stone walls and cobbles and torn limbs and chunks of sinew and muscle are scattered all over the place.
 
The scene is so brutal that even some of the more seasoned officers are stumbling into the corner to throw up, Sergeant Henry stands in the centre of the alley inspecting the most intact of the bodies, a headless man slumped forward his entire corpse covered in slashes and chasm like bites, his right arm is severed and lies a few inches from his body the hands frozen and gripping something.
 
“It’s like a butchers shop in here!” Henry mutters as I kneel and pry the object from the stiff fingers, it’s a silver chantry pendant of the flaming sword of mercy...its caked in blood
 
“whatcha got there Tor?” Henry asks me with a vaguely disgusted look on his face as I pass the bloodied pendant to Castor
 
“A chantry pendant...looks like it didn’t help him much” I say grimly
 
Murders are common in Denerim, especially in the poorer areas like this one, but the fact that the bodies have been torn literally limb from limb makes me wonder what in the Fade could have done something like this.
 
“Any witnesses?” I ask Henry
 
“Some people living in the tenement heard some loud screams in the night but no one went out to check, oh and some locals stumbled on this mess earlier this morning” Henry says putting to rest any hope of getting a credible account
 
“Could dogs have done this? Maybe some sort of gang thing?” Henry asks in a hopeful tone
 
“Given the size of the wounds on these bodies they would need to be big dogs, I suppose it’s possible, maybe they even had some wolf hounds with them” Castor replies uncertain
 
I sigh, I’ve seen enough weird cases to know that this isn’t any ordinary murder, but maybe I’m just acting on instinct and assuming the worst, there are plenty of gangs in the city which could get their hands on dogs, but why go to all that trouble to kill a few people in a back alley? And what sort of gang hoping to survive in Denerim would be so indiscrete?
 
“For the moment Dog’s seem the most credible explanation, tell the guard to start questioning locals about big dogs” I say with a furrowed brow, something feels wrong
 
Henry nods and walks off to give orders to the men; I stare down at the bodies and sigh, it could be dogs but my gut feeling is telling me that it’s something far worse than any hound. Castor picks up on my unease and glances in my direction with a questioning look on his face.
 
“It’s not dogs is it” Castor says with a serious look on his face
 
“I have no way of being certain, but look at these claw marks and those bites! I’ve seen mabari kill men and none of them ever left marks this wide and deep” I reply in a frustrated tone
 
“What then?” Castor asks
 
I want to say werewolves, Dragons hell even the risen dead, I know all those things to be real but I have no way of knowing for sure, instead I just curse under my breath and shrug my shoulders in confusion.
 
“whatever did this clearly isn’t human, whether that means it’s a pack of wild mabari with a gang leash around their necks or something far worse we won’t know till we have more evidence” I reply motioning for us to leave
 
I run through the evidence one last time, this doesn’t add up at all, Gangs that want to survive in this city don’t leave mess like this, even Zauben crime lord of the entire docks wouldn’t leave a mess like this and that guy breaks men in half...I’ll go along with the dogs story for the moment, but I’m guessing that ill have evidence for something far worse soon. Talk about a messy start to the day.

Modifié par westiex9, 28 décembre 2010 - 08:23 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

WOW!!!! You had me at the first scene, and it hit the ground running as always my friend. Fantastic! MOAR please! Oh and great descriptions of the drip, drip, drip, and the scene the next day!

[westiex9]

More to come Gil!

[Gilgamesh1138]

YAY!!!!!

[westiex9]

Chapter 2
Night falls over the city once more, doors are locked and the streets are empty save for the patrols now filling them all bearing fire and hounds, in the sky above the moon rises high and glows sickly yellow like a vast and bloated eye glaring at the world below.

A scream echoes in the night air as we run, boots crashing across the muddy side streets, a bunch of scared men armed to the teeth and leaping at anything that makes a sound...so much for careful investigation . The scream grows louder as we reach the markets; the Ostagar memorial fountain now seems less majestic, the griffons and mabari lining the surface now seeped in gore.

Something big is crouched on the highest point of the fountain, something feral gnawing into something fleshy on the griffons head; I hear a growl as my squad of guardsmen grow pale from their terror begin shouting franticly as if we were hunting a common thief and not some unseen beast that has just butchered countless people, the fountain is covered in maimed bodies, it’s like the thing is trying to create some sort of twisted spectacle.

I advance on the fountain, the men surrounding the large stone monument in a line of torches, the creature sitting on the top roars loudly, it is the howl of a wolf...I don’t see its face, but this is no dog. the beast growls and snaps something, it sounds like wet twigs breaking, a large object flies towards us landing at my feet....a head so torn at that it is unrecognisable.

A flicker of shadow fills the air as the beast lunges past, we barely see anything as it leaps over our line and into the darkness beyond, a great howl filling the air, I catch a brief glimpse of something purple flapping in the wind...then it’s gone and we are left alone staring into the blackness beyond our cities gore covered monument.

*************************************************************
A few hours of fitful and feverish sleep pass, dark dreams filling my unconscious mind as I slumber at my desk still in my mud splattered uniform.  I feel something poke my shoulder causing me to leap out of my seat, boot knife drawn, ready to stab whatever intruder was dumb enough to disturb my sleep.

“We really need to stop meeting this way” Valerie says with a look of mock disappointment on her face as she moves the knife blade away from her face with a gloved finger

I breathe a sigh of relief and put the knife back in its sheath “I thought we agreed no sneaking in through the top window!” I say grumbling

Ever since Valerie and I were re-united we’ve been sharing my house, the relationship is somewhat loose however as we both have our respective callings me with the city Guard and my investigations and her with her...well thieving...though we have agreed no heists within Ferelden, hence her numerous trips across the sea to Nevarra and the free marches.

“How was Kirkwall?” I ask apprehensively secretly wondering how much trouble she might have gotten into
“Colourful as ever, went to the merchant’s guild to speak with some dwarf that seems to know everything about the city...Creators the smirk on that face could crack city walls! Anyway he mentioned a few wealthy and very corrupt nobles in high town and I helped myself to some of their ill gotten funds” she says dropping a large pack which clinks with stolen goods

Kirkwall, now there’s a city I never hear dull things about lately it’s all “Champion” this and “Qunari” that, thankfully Denerim only seems to have one thing on its mind lately, mass murder and nights huddled in fear behind locked doors and barred windows.

“Don’t suppose you noticed the climate of fear filling the morning air as you arrived?” I ask splashing my face in the wash basin

She sighs and sits down on my now vacant desk chair “on the way back to the city I did hear a few things from some of the Farmers” She says with a troubled face

“What sort of things?” I ask

“rumours of remote homesteads found with their owners and livestock torn to ribbons, and sightings of a beast with a purple cloak...some of the locals have started muttering about the Marquis of night” she replies grimly

“Marquis of night?” I ask confused

“It’s an old Brecillian myth” a voice says from the stairs

The door creaks open slightly and Castor walks in ready to start the day’s work
“Care to enlighten us” I ask motioning Castor to sit

“if I must” Castor says pulling up a chair “ it’s an old story from the revolt years ago, apparently supplies started to go missing along the Brecillian passage and the locals claimed it was the work of Werewolves from the forest” Castor says eager to spin a good tale

“And the Orlesians? What did they think?” I ask

“They assumed it was rebels and increased the sizes of their escorts, but still the supply trains went missing regardless” Castor says with an eerie look on his face

“So what happened?” Valerie asks

“A young and arrogant Orlesian chevalier by the name of Guy De Lupes swore he would end the trouble in the Brecillian and went off into the forest suited in his best armour and wearing a purple cloak that made him stick out like a sore thumb” Castor replies with s slight smirk, knowing full well Fereldens dislike of its old rivals flamboyance

“I take it he died...I’m guessing horribly” I reply

“He rode off into the forest hunting the werewolves and was never heard from again, patrols later discovered pieces of his armour and a bloodied sword bearing De Lupes initials in a clearing” Castor replies, I begin to wonder what the relevance to my case is  

“And this is relevant to our situation how?” Valerie asks dismissively

Castor frowns hurt by our impatience “well that’s the creepy part” he responds “De Lupes was never seen again in person but many reports sprang up afterwards of a giant wolf like creature that sported a distinctive purple cloak...people began to link the creature to De Lupes and thus to this day he is referred to as the Marquis of the night” Castor says finishing his tale

So I could quite possibly be hunting a decades old noble born werewolf! This day just gets better and better, still it adds up with what I’ve seen so far and that creature was definitely growling like a wolf. It’s as good a suggestion as any and besides, I’ve dealt with weird enough times to know when to go with a good hunch.

“So wait...We’re hunting an Orlesian werewolf? There’s never a dull moment with you boys is there” Valerie replies with a chuckle  

“It’s a better lead then Dogs and gangs, besides I know what I saw...and its body count is getting higher each night” I say darkly

Thirteen people have died in the last two days alone; this creature is feasting on the cities citizens in huge numbers already having killed three on the first night and another ten the night following, but the attacks are not indiscriminate...first night it was the homeless, then the commoners of the market district...is this beast working its way up the social ladder one meal at a time?

“What did the old stories say about this Marquis?” i ask Castor wondering what his response will be
“Apparently the legends speak of nobles and high born folk being the beast’s favoured victim, but in their absence it is said to have been equally vicious towards common and destitute alike” Castor says trying to remember what he has likely read or heard

“We better get ready then” I say rising from my chair

“But we don’t even know where to look” Valerie replies matter-factly

“Trust me on this, I think our Marquis is eager to dine on this cities bluest blood, and that means a visit to the noble district ball” I say grinning  

A Gourmet Orlesian Werewolf, I really know how to pick my cases...oh well, at least it might actually rid us of some pests during its stay in our fair city...Please Creators...let the thing eat Vaughn!

Modifié par westiex9, 04 janvier 2011 - 07:32 .

[Gilgamesh1138]

*snickers* Gourmet Orlesian werewolf!!!! Oh and in Orlesian he would be a Loup Garou. Oh my! And so dapper in purple. Yes Erian really does know how to pick em! LOVE this story so far. Great job as always Westie! Thanks so much for writing this!

[westiex9]

Chapter 3

The sounds of forced laughter and banqueting fill the air as the cities most debauched and gluttonous nobility gather for the Arl of Denerim’s latest party. Little more than a puppet stripped of any real influence the Arl contents himself with throwing lavish banquets and indulging his baser instincts, I get the feeling he prefers this lifestyle to politics.

The crowd in the estate garden are a gallery of excess and greed if ever I saw one, Orlesian sympathisers, Slave owners and worse fill the gardens with their vile presence. The theme for this evening is an Antivan masked ball, appropriate really given that the masks are probably the only beautiful thing present at this gathering of filth and decadence. Well except for the mysterious Antivan noble woman stirring interest in the corner of the garden.

Lady Carlotta De Vries is indeed an enticing sight, her knee high boots and purple silk dress raising eyebrows in all the right ways, especially when you consider most Ferelden women wear heavy and unflattering dresses to keep out the cold, but I digress. On top of all this she is also wearing a hood and golden mask which adds an air of mystique to an already alluring figure.

“Stop staring serf and attend to your mistress” she says in an imperious voice, before sending a well placed kick to my backside

I have no idea where Valerie finds the time to steal all these costly disguise pieces; I mean seriously she must have robbed half the nobility of Antiva! In any case she is clearly enjoying herself pretending to be a noblewoman, and she is wasting no time reminding myself and Castor that we are pretending to be her elven servants.

“Ha! My lady your attitude to these layabout knife ears is most enlightening, we could use some of that Antivan style in Denerim” one bloated noble says with a malicious chuckle

Baiting the wolf seemed a great idea when we first came up with it, but I’m starting to suspect that my backside will come to regret the decision to go along with this plan by the time it reaches morning. The plan is of course reliant on a certain lupine guest showing up at tonight’s festivities, I just hope we haven’t mistaken the beast’s pattern of feeding.

As I move towards the wine stand with my “Mistresses” Chalice I hear a loud and terrified scream, I turn dropping the cup to see a woman her dress covered in blood rush into the centre of the courtyard and then collapse on the ground.

“That thing!!! Its killed Lady Lornach!!!” she screams as the servants run to her aid

She continues to scream hysterically causing the Arl to grow angry and stomp towards her, tearing his mask free Vaughn Kendall the puppet Arl of Denerim snarls orders at his servants no doubt enraged that someone would dare interfere with his entertainment.

“Get that woman out of the Courtyard! And you go and see what all this commotion is about NOW!!!” he yells pushing a servant off in the direction of the woman’s terrified flight.

The servant is shoved through the door to the estate by a heavy handed guard, whatever is beyond is clearly too scary for the big armoured thugs to and check themselves, the scrawny elven man stumbles through the door into the darkness beyond and for a few moments the entire courtyard is locked in a fearful silence.

A scream tears through the garden as the servant meets some unseen and no doubt gruesome fate, then I hear something, footsteps pound on the heavy stone floors of the estate corridors and they grow closer and louder with each new step.

There is a gasp as the door creaks open and a man dressed in a purple cloak and noble clothing strides out into the courtyard, his face and hands covered in blood. One guard rushes forward and drives his blade through the man’s chest with a loud and fearful cry. The bloodied noble simply stares down at the point sticking from his chest, like a child eyeing something curious, he reaches out and grabs the guard’s throat raising him off the ground and then draws the guard close and plunges his teeth into his throat tearing at the flesh with a spray of blood and gurgling screams.

He throws the guards corpse to the ground and stares out across the garden towards the assembled nobility who are too afraid to move from where they stand. He makes what sounds like a feral growl and sniffs at the air catching a scent.

“I know your here...Erian... you’re not the only one who can wear a disguise! ” he says in a sinister and mocking voice

I reach for my boot knife ready to hurl it at him, but before my hand has even touched the hilt I am pinned against the wall by this bloodied noble, I have never heard of werewolves assuming human form...but how else can I explain this?!

“Do not pursue me elf...I have no desire to feast on your filth ridden blood, but if you continue to impede my plans I shall tear you asunder!” he growls in my ear his hand locked around my throat in a vice like grip

He is about to say something else when something sharp hits his back with a dull thud, he turns to see Valerie draw another knife from her garter and only narrowly avoids being stabbed in the face by the blade shrieking towards him.

The bloodied noble, who is definitely the Marquis of night growls at Valerie as she points her unsheathed Dar Missan at him and then doubles over in a series of pained spasms that seemed to bend and twist his body. The bloodied nobles form begins to warp and twist and his hangs become vicious talons that tear at his flesh as a blood splattered wolf emerges from the noble’s skin.

A piercing roar fills the air as the wolf glares at us, man no longer the beast shows its true form that of a vast and unnatural terror, its inhuman eyes chill us to the bone as it stalks the edges of the garden for a few brief moments, then grasping the screaming body of the bloated noble from earlier the Marquis leaps onto the roof of the estate and begins to flee, the noble screaming the entire time.

“Bonne Chance Elf!!” The wolf hisses at it tears a path across the roof

The still paralysed crowd remains motionless, their forms frozen in place and mouths agape, I draw my boot knife and turn to Valerie who is now joined by Castor, Castor is hefting a large crossbow and I while I have no idea where he got the thing from I have a feeling we are going to need it.

“What now Erian?” Castor asks in a panicked tone

“Oh now we go to Kirkwall and have tea with lord Hawke....what do you think Castor! After that thing!” I say rushing for the stairs to the roof.

How does that thing know my name? And how is it able to change its form at will? I suppose I should not be too surprised, I have hunted it before and if it was not aware of me then it most certainly made time to discover its pursuer’s identities afterwards, the thought of trying to track a shape shifter across Denerim fills me with dread and I know we have to stop this thing now. So I do what I do best, I give chase and hope I’m not being led into another trap.

[Gilgamesh1138]

WOOT Westie!!!! I love Valerie, even is she is hard on Erian's backside. LOVE this!

[westiex9]

Gilgamesh1138 wrote...

WOOT Westie!!!! I love Valerie, even is she is hard on Erian's backside. LOVE this!

Lol she is indeed a cruel cruel woman!

[erynnar]

Girl after my own heart!

[westiex9]

Chapter 4

Blood is the oldest trail in the world to follow, since the dawn of time when hunters chased wounded beasts, and that familiar scent of copper and salt can lead a man almost anywhere. Long before men set foot in Thedas my ancestors the Elvhen hunted wolves through darkened forest with bow and lance, but their hunting grounds were verdant forests and their prey were mere animals.

For me the hunters trail leads to a foul smelling sewer tunnel at the edge of the noble district and I get the feeling that the gore strewn path I have followed was left for me by the Wolf, a little breadcrumb trail leading me right into a trap. The beast wants me to follow it to its lair, it is hunting me as much I as I am it.

“Maker it reeks of sewage in there!” Castor mutters holding his hand over his mouth in disgust

“It’s not the sewage you should be worried about” I reply while lighting a torch

The sewers there’s something vaguely meritocratic about them, doesn’t matter if you’re the king or a lowly elven dock worker...everyone’s waste ends up in the dark catacombs below the city. How long has this beast been waiting down there? How long has life in the world above moved oblivious to the evil lurking in the dank underground?

“come on, this things rampage is ends tonight” I say moving through the muck of the sewer entrance torch held aloft as my boots squelch in the mud.... at least I think that’s mud.

“Damn it, these boots were made in Antiva! Can’t we just let him eat half the nobles?” Valerie grumbles

I chuckle, when we left for the Arls party I suspect none of us knew that we would end the night in a foul smelling sewer and poor Valerie’s finery is more than a little out of place.

“Look on the Brightside!” I say my voice echoing as I move deeper into the blackness

“What Brightside!?” an irritated voice echoes back

“You didn’t pay anything for those boots Valerie, you could say they were a Steal!” I say with a wicked grin

“If that wolf tries to eat you again I’m no shooting it this time!” Valerie yells back in an annoyed voice

I am about to reply when I notice something floating in the water ahead, and no I’m not talking about the waste, the fools torn remains are barely recognisable...not least because he’s missing his lower body and most of his face. I can just barely make out the patterns and tailoring on the slain nobles ruined clothing.

“Creators!” I mutter staring down at the gory sight

“Did you find something?” Castor asks

“Yeah and it looks like Denerim will need a new guild master!” I reply stepping over the corpse

I descend deeper into the murk and stench of the cities poorly maintained underworld, I sometimes wonder if sewers are just built and then neglected because I can’t imagine anyone willingly coming down here to work, but then that’s what elves like me are for, the jobs nobody else will do.

The sewer water begins to grow shallow as I come to the entrance to another tunnel, something crunches and snaps as I step forward...I stare down to see bones lining the tunnel entrance. I think my wolf has been brining snacks down with him; I can see the marks on the pile of bones where claws or teeth cracked open skulls or shattered arms. Few deaths could be said to be more horrific.

“Arm those crossbows; I think we’ve found the wolf’s home!” I say drawing my knife from its sheath

Suddenly the eerie sound of music fills the air, a lute echoing in the sewer tunnels, and as we move into the chamber at the end of the tunnel we find ourselves standing in a strangely refined lair, books and tapestries lining the walls and rough skins on the floors, Orlesians! Even in wolf form an assortment of fops.

A tall figure in purple nobleman’s cloak and court finery stands back turned, he plays a gentle tune on the lute that is unsettling in its beauty.

“Bonjour monsieur Erian...I see you couldn’t take my advice...pity” he says turning and placing the loot on the floor

“What are you? I was told werewolves can’t change form!”Castor says crossbow trained on this strange figure

The Marquis of night smiles at that remark, a sinister grin crossing his strangely refined features, his face seemingly un-aged despite him being decades old. He sighs and stares at us with cold blue eyes, a wolf eyeing his next meal.

“Most can’t...but I am no ordinary beast of the forest, when I went to the brecillian I was granted the gift of lycanthropy by a bite to the neck, I survived and was able to maintain my faculties...I have spent the decades mastering the curse in my blood...mastering the gift in my blood, I am to my knowledge the only wolf able to change form” he says with a smirk

“And so you came to Denerim to what? Massacre the locals and take in a few theatre shows” Valerie asks annoyed

“I grew weary of the Brecillian and its isolation, occasionally a traveller would pass and I would feed but for the most part I was alone, here in Denerim I am surrounded by the living...it is Glorious, a true hunting ground” he says eyes filled with mad emotion

A wolf masquerading as a man, here to feed upon the unknowing inhabitants of the city, not the sort of guest the city really needs given its long and bloody history, time to send this beast on his way.

“You’ve killed your last person tonight! Feeding times over” I reply in a stern voice

“You Fereldens are so persistent! Always interrupting my meals! I will not be commanded by some fleshy mortal, least of all an elf! Let us see if you can back your words with action elf!” the nobleman snarls his eyes suddenly shifting to a dark amber colour.

He falls to the ground and begins to writhe and moan as the wolf hiding within begins to claw its way out, the moans become louder and more pained and they begin to sound more animal and less human the louder they grow.

“Errr Valerie, Castor....I think we should...” I don’t get time to finish as a wolf’s snarling head roars whilst glaring at us

“RUN!!!” Castor yells as the beast advances towards us

We don’t get chance to flee as the beast lunges towards me, I am knocked to the ground my knife clattering on the ground just out of reach, the beast tries to claw at me and i am barely able to evade its vicious swipes as he tries to pin me in place.

“Get out of here! Run!!” I yell as Valerie and Castor watch in horror

“We can’t leave him!” Castor yells, but Valerie nods understanding and grabs Castor hauling him off into the darkness

I am left to struggle with the heavy beast bearing down on me, he tries to tear into my throat but I am able to move in time to avoid his teeth...I don’t let him get a second chance. With my free hand I send a fist smashing into the wolf’s face and then I knock him off me with a well placed kick.

The beast roars and gets ready to lunge at me a second time, I search around for my knife but it’s too far to reach in time...then I remember something reaching into my pocket, the small silver sword of mercy pendant that I took from one of the beasts last victims...its sharp enough to make a wound if I use it quickly.

“Thinking of saying your last prayer elf!!” the monster snarls as he sees the pendant in my hand

“I’m really more interested in action!” I yell rushing at the beast, he seems taken aback by my mad rush and I use that surprise to my advantage....I drive the pendant into the beasts right eye blood oozing onto my hand as I step back from the now flailing creature

 I Grab my blade from the floor and snatch a torch from the wall hurling it at the wolf, his obsession with worldly comfort becoming its undoing. The beast’s fur ignites in an instant and flames rush across the monsters body, but it does not fall to the ground and burn instead it lets out an angry roar and rushes towards me.

I rush for the tunnel exit trying to clamber over the bones and foul sewage blocking my escape as the beast tries to claw its way up the tunnel and after me. My heart pounds as I reach the tunnel exit and rush through the sewers covered in filth, the beast is not far behind me the stink of its burnt fur filling the air.

I know he will be able to hear me splashing as I run, I stop and duck against a moss covered wall, ill need stealth to survive this creature. The sound of something big splashing through the water fills the tunnel as the creature grows close enough to hear. In the darkness I can’t see the beast but the sounds of it growling fills the air.

I know ill only have one chance to kill the beast, I lie back against the wall and wait for the creature to get close enough, praying to the creators that the sewage blocks my scent from the beast. I begin to count to three in my head; the sound of water dripping from the ceiling fills my ears.

One...drip drip...two...drip drip....three

“Arrrgggghhhhh!!!” I roar lunging at the beast with my blade, the knife thrusting into the beast’s heart with a brutal stab

But the blade doesn’t dig deep enough into the monsters chest and it remains there stuck, the beast raises a clawed hand and smacks me to the ground sending me into the sewer filth with a violent splash.

My vision blurred by the hit I only have time to see a shadowy figure rush towards me and then I feel the beast’s claws slicing across my chest like a dozen knives. I cry out in pain as the wounds are made and part of me wonders if this is the end.

Two bolts screech through the air one catching the wolf in his head and the other crashing into his shoulder, the beast stumbles back.

“Now Erian kill it!!!” Valerie cries

I drag myself to my feet and with a final roar I rush towards the beast and grasping the knife in both hands I pull it
loose and then drive it into the beast’s heart with one last effort. The beast isn’t even able to snarl this time and he falls back body crashing into the filth.

“We need to get out of here...now!” I say as Valerie helps me out of the sewer


The wolf will rot here in the sewer where so many of its victims met their end, fitting.

“Those stitches are healing well” Valerie mutters as I pull a shirt on to cover the wounds

It’s been three days since the business in the sewer and already the entire thing has been forgotten by the majority of the public. Just another wacky occurrence dealt with by that mad elf and his sidekicks will be the casual muttering in bars.

“Hmmm...I’m just glad the thing didn’t bite me, Castor tells me one bite and its over for anyone” I say staring out the window into the Alienage

“Speaking of which where is Castor? He’s usually here by now” Valerie asks

I don’t answer. Maybe it’s just instinct, maybe I’m just paranoid...but I can swear Castor is never late

Something doesn’t feel right.

Why do I get the feeling that another case is just about to open?

[westiex9]

Kirkwall City of Chains, a place built on suffering and misery, Instinct tells me to stay away from places like this...but instinct won't help me here, i have to put aside fear...i have to find Castor.

9:36 Dragon...the year Erian Tor visits the city of Chains....will it be his last?

[erynnar]

OH NO!!!! He has to save Castor! I love Castor!

[westiex9]

Chains That Bind

Chapter 1
 
The nights in Denerim have always been dangerous time to walk the streets, Castor usually wouldn’t have been so reckless but on this particular eve he was feeling confident...overconfident perhaps that he could walk the darkness home safely. After all he had faced countless terrors alongside Erian Tor, they had beaten maleficarum, Demon and criminal time and time again...what was one darkened street compared to all that?
 
He hadn’t walked far when he heard the scream and the sounds of smashing pottery and angered voices, Castor gripped the dagger in his belt and rather than going to get help went to see what was going on himself.
 
The sounds were coming from one of the many run down tenements that were commonplace in the Alienage; Castor sometimes wondered how he and Erian had lived in such places before they had made their fortunes. The tenements had always been bleak and dilapidated places that stained Denerim’s landscape; if you lived here it was because you were part of the neglected elven underclass and could afford nothing better.
 
Violence was common in these miserable places, sometimes it was brutal domestic spats between angered partners and other times it was violence between criminal gangs taking shelter in these places. Castor didn’t know what sort of brutality he would find tonight, but he felt an irresistible urge to see for himself.
 
Castor thought he could do it alone; surely he was ready after all this time! And just think how proud Erian would be when he learned that his assistant and partner had stopped a crime on his own without aid! Castor wasn’t thinking about the danger, he was too busy imagining the praise that was soon to be heaped upon his head. He charged into the tenement like some mad hero from the tales.
 
The sight that had greeted him was not a pleasant one, humans in masks dragging people from their homes...Slavers. They were feared across Thedas for their ability to operate in cities without detection by the law and now they were here in denerim preying upon the most neglected of all its citizens.
 
They had been a rare sight for years in the Alienage, ever since now Queen Fiona had butchered a force of them that had been abducting elves and shipping them to Tevinter and other far off spots. It seemed that time had dulled the slavers fear of plying their trade in Ferelden, because here they were once more.
 
As soon as the masked men saw Castor they had dropped their living merchandise and rushed to stop this new armed elf. They had come at him from all sides; his knife had buried itself in the eye of one unlucky attacker and broken off from the hilt. The next thing Castor knew he was being beaten into unconsciousness by several mailed fists. A reckless whim ending with a brutal lesson in the virtues of caution.

 
The slavers had left, minus one of their number, with more slaves then intended. Castor would not realize the terrible consequences of his action until he awoke from bloodied sleep hours later. 

*****************************************************
 
Castor didn’t come home last night, I’ve told him time and time again to be careful...but kids rarely listen to their elders these days, they think we don’t trust them to look after themselves and then  they do the exact opposite and go looking for trouble to prove us wrong.
 
Is that what happened to Castor? Did he go looking for trouble and worse find it?
 
The scene in this tenement makes me wonder; violence is common in these places but rarely is it on this sort of scale. There’s blood on the floorboards and destroyed furniture strewn across the many worn down rooms in this mockery of a living space. People are missing and the signs of struggle are clear as day.
 
“Gang violence?” Sergeant Henry asks as I trace the bloodied nail marks from their starting point in a doorway to where they end in the main corridor
 
“Since when did gang violence end in an entire tenement vanishing? No...This is something else” I say staring at the scene as if waiting for it to give me an answer
 
Slavers? I hear stories from time to time of them operating across the world, and I was just as outraged as other elves when Loghain betrayed us and sold many of his fellow countrymen into slavery for Tevinter coin, but really here in Denerim after all this time? Have they suddenly developed a daring streak? 
 
“They said there was a body in the hallway, show me” I say motioning for Henry to do just that
 
He nods and we walk to a side room where a large sheet, probably an old sail knowing the Guards meagre budget, covers what could only be a corpse. I pull the sheet back and am greeted by the sight of a man in a thuggish looking leather mask, looks like whoever was here got sloppy.
 
“He seems to be missing an eye” I say noticing the long stiletto blade jutting from his left socket which has long since burst into a bloodied mush
 
“They found a cudgel with him, looks like he was here to knock people out rather than kill ‘em” Henry says pointing to the wooden beater on the table next to the body
 
Slavers, a man dressed in mask and leather who carries a truncheon and just happens to be found at the scene of a missing tenement, there’s no doubt in my mind it has to be them. They must have been in a hurry to leave; perhaps this was a raid and nothing more...but why leave such obvious proof that you were here, I thought slavers were discreet.
 
“Was there anything else?” I ask Henry still gazing at the blade
 
“Well there was this ser, looks like the hilt that blade belonged to” Henry says handing me a small silver hilt...with leaves and a Varteral etched onto the hilt!
 
I stare at the blade not wanting to admit the truth; this is Castors blade...a gift from me to him. I had this blade fashioned by the Clans in the south, by my uncle Varlen’s hand no less! It was a celebration of his coming of age...looks like he put it to use a little too early.
 
Castor, closest friend and ally...Castor my friend...taken far away by slavers...
 
“Something wrong sir?” Henry asks noticing my silence
 
“No...Nothing to worry about Henry” I say pocketing the hilt
 
I pull back the sheet and check under the armour for anything distinctive, tattoos and the like mostly. The Slaver’s body yields no real clues, just a heap of slain flesh. But I notice something just as I am about to give up. The man’s left arm bears a mark...a black raven...chains gripped in its talons.
 
“Tell the captain I’ll have his report ready for tomorrow” I say leaving the tenement

 
My best friend stolen away by Slavers in the night, slavers marked with a chain bearing raven on their arms. I need to speak to someone well versed in the ways of the underworld. I need to speak to Valerie. 
 
*******************************************************************

“Kirkwall, that’s where I’ve seen that symbol before” she says after I have given my description
 
The city of chains, Creators have mercy! That place does have a sordid history...but what in the gods name are they doing in Ferelden? and why did they have to take my friend?! I try and compose myself...I need to think calmly if I’m going to take action.
 
“Kirkwall? You’re sure it’s from there?” I ask making sure
 
“Yeah it’s from there alright, the locals in lowtown used to get jumpy whenever it was mentioned, it was painted on a few of the houses...looks like it was a slaver gang” she says casting her memory back
 
That makes sense, even today the city is a mire of suffering and misery, Kirkwall is a criminals wet dream, a city built upon corruption and greed with enough abandoned tunnels and impoverished slums to hide any number of illegal enterprises, including slave trading.
 
“Then that’s where I need to go” I say rising from my chair and grabbing my shield and sword from the wall
 
“You can’t cut your way through the entire city Erian! The Qunari tried that a few years back...ended badly for them” she says with staring at my weapons with disapproval
 
“Well I’m not staying here while my friend is in captivity! He could be half way across the world by now!” I say anxiously
 
“Actually he’s probably locked up somewhere in Darktown, the slavers won’t just sell him off they’ll wait till they have a buyer willing to pay large sums of coin for a slave who speaks Tevinter,Ferelden and a dozen other languages and who can also read and fight” she says with a comforting tone
 
Looks like the Chantry education Castor paid for might buy me some time to rescue him, let’s hope there’s a bidding war because ill need to catch up with those damn slavers!
 
“Im coming with you” Valerie says matter-factly
 
“It’s too dangerous!” I reply more stubbornly than usual, anxiety is making me more worried about loved ones then usual
 
Valerie laughs
 
“You’re telling me! as much as I adore your big muscles and penchant for breaking noses lover I think you’re going to be far out of your element in the city of chains, you wouldn’t last five minutes in Kirkwall...besides I know my way around and we can find Castor faster together then with you alone and punching anything that moves” she says ending the discussion
 
Looks like I’m going to have company on the trip, she’s right and I know it...but losing one friend to slavers makes me paranoid about losing my lover too. Still she’s been to the city in the course of her travels as a master thief, if anyone can lead me to Castor its Valerie.
 
“Looks like its settled then, we leave at once” I say sheathing my blade
 
Time to get my friend back.
 
 

Modifié par westiex9, 24 mars 2011 - 01:32 .

[westiex9]

Chapter 2
 
Across a darkened see the creaking ship sails, through waters more turbulent then any in Ferelden, for days our vessel struggles and fights through storms and currents that threaten to dash us against rocks or pull us in the murky darkness of the deeps. Eventually after what must have been days we see it, the “wall” vast cliffs with a narrow channel in the middle, as our vessel enters the darkness I can make out leering faces carved into the rock. The eyes of the Old Gods are watching even now.
 
“They say the Magisters carved the channel using magic” someone mutters on the side
 
“Makes you wonder if their overcompensating for something!” I say irritably, I do not like Tevinters.
 
“Ha! Wait till you see the Gallows, then the real overcompensating begins” Valerie says with a wry laugh

 
Into the darkened harbour we go, into a city built on the backs of broken slaves.

*************************************************************************************************************
 
 “Creators this place makes Denerim look scenic!” I mutter as we head down the bustling lowtown streets
 
“It’s not all bad lover, the hanged man has cheap drinks and a dwarf with a mouth that could charm a snake out of its own skin” she replies with a slight smile
 
We are in lowtown now; the gallows were a foul enough sight with their vile statues and the gaze of just about every templar fixed on us. We were only allowed to pass through the barred gates because of a favour from the Denerim guard, a letter of introduction bearing an official seal. This city is like a prison before a riot; everywhere I look I can see tension brewing...it’s a powder keg waiting to explode.
 
“I’m just glad to be past that fortress, I’ve never seen so many templar...and these ones are nothing like the ones in Denerim” I say remembering their judging looks and the way their hands rested on swords at all times
 
“the whole city has been like this since that Qunari uprising was put down, the viscount lost his head and the templar commander’s been running things with an iron hand ever since...I hear the Champion is the only one stopping her and the Circle from coming to blows” Valerie says as we pass a row of decaying stalls, the Vendors staring at us with desperate eyes
 
This city is different from Denerim in every way, and I’m not just talking about the lack of brown, it’s not so much that the place has oppression or poverty...it’s that the people here accept it as ordinary and ignore it. At least in Denerim the rulers actually make some effort to change things, the neglect in this city is visible in every street of Lowtown, a city bereft of leadership and descending further into darkness each day it continues so.
 
“So who’s this contact anyway?” I ask as we arrive at a building with the sign of a hanged man above the door
 
“Her names Athenril, old friend of mine who owes me for a job a while back” Valerie says opening the door and walking into the smoke and cacophony
 
The hanged man is filled with most of the standard characters you’ll seen in any joint in Thedas, the barflies making idle conversation on pointless topics, the lecher bothering the serving wench and...Okay the bearded guy ranting about lyrium in the water is a new one.
 
“Erian over here!” Valerie says from a table
 
She’s sat with a brown haired elven woman, prettiest sight I’ve seen in this bleak city so far...well other then Valerie....
 
“Didn’t expect to see you in Kirkwall again Valerie, especially after that job at the blooming rose...I’ve never seen so many nobles get fleeced in one night!” the woman says causing Valerie to blush
 
“Wait blooming wha.....” I say
 
“Nothing! Nothing...can we talk about the information at hand” Valerie says interrupting me
 
Athenril sighs and sits back “you must be Erian, sorry to hear about your friend...Valerie tells me your close” she says with a sincere look
 
“He’s the closest thing I have to family, any lead you could give me would be appreciated” I say hoping in my head that she actually has a lead I can use
 
She sits back eyes deep in thought for a moment, she sighs deeply and then after a long pause gives me the information I need.
 
“I don’t deal in flesh and I don’t make deals with slavers, but it always pays the know who’s who in this city, I don’t know who took your boy but I do know someone who could give you more info...his names Thull he’s a local thug who deals in the slave markets and he has dealings with most of the major slaver rings and the rumour is that he’s been blabbing about something big happening in Kirkwall” Athenril says noticing my interest growing
 
“What does he look like then? And where can we find him” Valerie asks
 
“Thull? He’s a bulky sod with a beaten face and a brand mark on the side of his face from his time in Orzammar, he has a house on the docks” Athenril says with a knowing grin.
 
“Looks like we should pay Thull a friendly visit” I say rising from my seat

 
If he knows anything about the slavers then he better be quick to divulge that information, because I do not intend to be gentle if I have to extract it. 

************************************************************************************************************
 
Its late when Thull arrives home, his small form stumbling through the darkened street, this is an area devoid of conveniences like lit lanterns or guard patrols, Thull has no idea what I have in store for him.
 
His small meaty hands fumble with the door for a few moments; the alcohol he has been gulping down all night has made him clumsy, reckless and unprepared. As he opens the door with a loud creek i watch from my hiding place waiting for him to make his move. He steps through the door his movements ponderous and dizzy from the drink.
 
It doesn’t take much, a hand gripping his throat in a vice like hold and a quick slam against the wall to produce a sudden bout of unconsciousness, he doesn’t even have time to scream before it all goes black, he doesn’t know it yet but things are going to get worse for him when he comes to.
 
He wakes up later his eyes opening weakly in response to the slaps to his face and the feel of flame to fingers, normally I would just ask my questions and deliver a few punches...but these slavers crossed a line when they took Castor, so I don’t see any reason to play by my usual rules.
 
“WH-Who are you!?” he blurts out in a startled voice, unable to see me in the darkened room
 
“I’m a man in need of answers...and names” I say in an angered voice
 
He tries fidgeting in his chair but the chains are cast iron and he won’t be breaking free anytime soon. When he realises that he can’t escape he tries bluster and threat to worm his way out of the situation.
 
“You fool! I know powerful people! They’ll find you and butcher you like a nug if you touch one hair on my head” he says spitting in my direction
 
I sigh and move out of the darkness, for a moment I just stare at the small and sweat drenched dwarf sitting bound in front of me, then I kick his chair back and watch as he slams to the ground with a pained grunt.
 
“Names dwarf! Someone you know is having a sale and I want to know who!” I yell at the downed dwarf
 
“You must think I’m crazy! Nothing you could do to me would be as bad as what he would!” he says making his first mistake
 
I grin and haul him up from the ground “so this slaver is male...let’s see if we can’t narrow down the search a little” I say in a sinister tone
 
He spits again this time hitting me in the face, a fist to his teeth sends a spray of blood and teeth through the air, he stops spitting after that. I sigh and pull up a chair sitting with the dwarf who is now muttering something through battered lips.
 
“I w-w-won’t tell y-y-you! He k-kill me!” he says shaking and his lips trembling
 
My blade flashes in the blackness as I drive it towards his throat, stopping mere inches from his jugular. He freezes and I stare into his eyes letting him know I’m not fooling around, he tells me a name or he dies.
 
“Oh ancestors! Fine! His name is Pell,Corvinus Pell...he’s a Tevinter, one of the biggest slaver’s in the city!” he says in a loud and terrified voice
 
I pull the blade away from his neck ever so slightly, now we are getting somewhere.
 
“Corvinus Pell? Never heard of him! You better be telling me truth dwarf!” I say sternly
 
“I’m telling you that’s his name! They call him the Raven of Tevinter, specialises in raids and discreet transactions, he just came back from the south with a boatload of slaves!” he yells sweat running down his face
 
So I have a name and a few tidbits of information to follow; now I just need to answer the last and all important question...where.
 
“And where could I find this...Corvinus Pell” I say in a cold tone
 
“I don’t know Messere! Keeps his business real low key, only found out the info from a coterie snitch in darktown! That’s all I know I swear!” he says pleading with me not to kill him
 
I pull back the knife and stand up; the dwarf is still shaking and judging from the smell I think he may have soiled himself and more. He’s a pathetic site with his face bruised and sweat covering his already stained attire.
 
“My thanks dwarf” I say before plunging the knife between his ribcage with a single and vicious movement
 
He stares up at me eyes bulging from their sockets as the life fades from his lungs and spills from his chest, he seems surprised and horrified at my sudden act of violence, but in truth I had decided his fate long before he entered the darkened house.
 
“You Slavers are monsters, you sell people like cattle and think to escape all justice unharmed, sorry dwarf but I’m not going to let you scurry off into the night to ply your trade elsewhere...you’ve destroyed one last life with your slaving...your own!” I say pulling the blade free with a twist and a wet sliding sound.

 
I wipe the bloodied knife on the dying dwarf’s curtains and then descend the stairs out into the streets below, Valerie is waiting and we now have a real target to hunt for. 
 
******************************************************************************************************

“I can’t believe you killed him!” Valerie says shocked as we walk through the darkened dockyard street
 
“One less Slaver in the World Valerie, better I killed him then he live to hurt anyone else” I say in a grim voice
 
“You’ll have us both locked in the gallows if you keep this up! Just try and be more discre....” Valerie lets the last word trail off as a group of armoured shadows descend from the blackened alleyways
 
Slavers, in my haste to find Castor I’m forgetting my own rules, if there is one constant about these people trading beasts it is there propensity for organization, I should have been more careful when I stalked Thull to his house. Should have checked to see if someone was watching the property as Slavers so often do when it houses their assets, I’m too emotionally attached to this case and my anger is beginning to affect my judgement...but this isn’t a case...my friend has been taken.
 
“You’ve been asking questions elf...time to shut you up!” a man in a masked helmet says in an aggressive voice
 
Armoured figures close in on me and Valerie their swords drawn, but they’ve forgotten one vital detail about their opponent, I take precautions...in this case a belt of flasks laced with toxic substances.
 
Nodding to Valerie I throw the flask and watched as I smashes on the ground in front of the slavers, showering them with its vile contents...soon they start to scream and claw at their helmets as the vile substance begins to work its charm on them.
 
“Told you those acid flasks I made would come in handy” Valerie says with a smug grin
 
We knew when we set out for Kirkwall that we would be facing harder odds than ever before, so we took stock and brought a few surprises for this cities more violent elements to enjoy. Sometimes having a master thief for you’re on and off girlfriend can be a good thing.
 
Most of the slavers have by now collapsed, the acid spray having burnt through their eyes and necks with suffocating force, the leader of the group is the only one still moving and he crawls towards fallen sword hoping to use it against me, but he’s too slow and as he reaches out to grip the blade I boot it from his hand and kick him onto his back.
 
“The only people who are going to “Shut up” are you and your wretched masters!!!” I yell before driving a sword through the slavers throat
 
I leave the blade there driven through his throat; we walk on through the darkness a trail of death behind us. This cities Slaver rings have no idea what their actions have brought down upon them, more will follow soon enough and I won’t rest until Castor is safe and Pell has met a gruesome end.

Modifié par westiex9, 01 avril 2011 - 10:18 .

[westiex9]

Chapter 3
 
The stink of burning metal filled the dank chamber where the new elven slave was being kept, he was chained to the ceiling now arms and legs spread to prevent him from moving, the brand was held aloft by one of Pell’s underlings as he watched from the shadows.
 
Corvinus Pell had been pleased when Bruta his thuggish but obedient second had come to him with the news that the boy had been chantry educated and spoke several languages, Ferelden slaves had dropped in value since the blight had send boat loads of them to Kirkwall but an educated elven slave was always a pricey commodity.
 
Pell smiled beneath the horned helmet he wore when visiting the slave pens, the ferelden raid was merely an attempt to show off and make himself look strong among the slaver gangs but this elven boy had given Pell a commercial reason to be pleased.
 
Pell nodded to Bruta signalling for the branding to begin, many slavers left such activities to their servants but Pell believed in running things up front, the underling raised the brand and thrust it against the shoulder of the elven boy who screamed loudly as the hot iron seared a mark into his flesh. Pell blink, to him elves were property and nothing more, he didn’t believe a creature weak enough to be taken was worthy of pity.
 
Corvinus turned to leave instructing Bruta to handle things while he was gone and then he left the chamber his boots clanking as he strolled with a relaxed gait past cells filled with newly captive elf’s who snivelled and whimpered as they lay on crowded stone floors.
 
Pell smiled inwardly realizing the terror his shadowy and horned figure must be spreading amongst the lowly prisoners in their cages. He had taken the horns as a trophy during a campaign in Seheron, torn from the head of a Qunari war leader during a blood magic induced mania with his bare hands no less.
 
Seheron had been Pell’s initiation into life outside of Minrathous and he had learned his lessons well. To Corvinus Pell life was like the jungle of Seheron a Hierarchy of predator and prey with the Tevinter’s naturally at the top of the chain, elves and other lowly peoples were simply his natural prey and in such a manner he found slavery a natural activity to be involved in.
 
Corvinus was a cunning slave trader and was able to make a good profit selling human and elf...and even the odd dwarf, but to Pell the hunt was more important, he loved seeking new and increasingly difficult slaves in dangerous lands and the Ferelden raid had been his most daring yet, especially since it was in Ferelden that poor Caladrius had been butchered by angry locals.
 

Alas not everyone had Pell’s natural skill when it came to enslaving other beings, but then not everyone was Corvinus Pell and the Raven of Tevinter had even more audatious plans in mind now that he knew that Ferelden was a prime spot for trafficking. He left the dungeons where his prisoners lay in collective misery almost humming a merry tune as he dreamed of future raids. 

*****************************************************
 
“look he’s a Tevinter, he’s got magic that would turn you inside out if he got chance to use it, we need extra protection so just go and speak with the contact I gave you” Valerie says as I sit polishing my blade with a ragged cloth
 
I sigh and put the cloth to one side for a moment “it seems steel isn’t enough to gut a mage these days” I say before hurling the boot knife towards a wooden Tevinter figurine I’ve been using all day, the blade slams into the figures head with a dull thud as it sinks into the wooden surface
 
Valerie gives me an annoyed look, clearly not amused by my sullen mood, she’s been less then pleased with me since we arrived in Kirkwall, I get the feeling that killing so many people in cold blood is not the most attractive thing she’s seen me do in a while.
 
“Look you may have faced apostates and blood mages and yes demons as well, but you have never seen the things a Tevinter can do! This isn’t some insane runaway your facing it’s a maker damned Tevinter Magister with more horrors at his control then you can imagine! So get some protection for us if you really want to save Castor!” she says irritably
 
Castor, she’s right we need all the help we can get to save him, i stand up and move towards the figurine before prizing the knife free from the wood.
 
“Okay ill go and speak with this contact, I just hope he’s got something we can use against Pell” I say holstering the blade
 

She smiles at that comment “trust me Erian, he’s got what we need, of that you can be sure” she says with a knowing grin 

***************************************************
 
The apostate’s house is a grimy Lowtown hovel on the bad side of the city docks, not that I’ve seen a good side yet, he’s a grubby looking man with sunken eyes and an unshaven in dirty peasant cloths and I get the feeling he’s not slept peacefully in years. Mind you neither would I if the threat of Templar’s hung constantly over head like a sword waiting to drop from on high.
 
“Valerie said you had something that could protect against blood magic” I say calmly
 
He springs back at the mention of the word and glares at me with a look of pure anger “shhh!!! Don’t say that so damn loud! I have neighbours and if they hear that word they’ll sell my ass to the templar’s in a heartbeat! “He growls in a low whisper
 
“Ha and I thought my neighbours were bad!” I chuckle in a low voice
 
He sighs waving his arms in the air in a gesture that almost says “unbelievable” and walks over to a hatch which he opens, it leads down into a cellar that reeks of sawdust and rat droppings...so almost cosy for a house in Kirkwall.
As soon as we are both downstairs he slams the hatch and looks skittishly from side to side before pointing to a table with a dusty old sail on top.
 
“Don’t sell to many, too risky, but I owe Athenril and Valerie so I keep a few things around...from the old life...here look, but don’t tell anyone you got them from me!” the apostate says with a sudden glare
 
He pulls the sail back to reveal a long row of strange objects, some small and some not so small, they glow and make strange noises as I stare down at them...I can swear some of them are speaking as I look....
 
He snaps me out of my trance like gaze when he points to a small amulet that sits in the centre of the table, the other objects all seemingly arrayed around it.
It looks like it’s made from bone and it hangs from a bronze chain, it’s shaped like a hunting horn of all things. I can almost hear the sound of an angry wind as I look at it.
 
“What...is it?” I ask wondering what use it will be against a Magister
 
“The abyssal gale, I...stole it from the archives....when I ran...its ancient....tribal I think, they say the barbarians used it when they fought the magisters” he says momentarily lost in his past
 
So that small amulet was used to fight magisters, well if it worked for Andraste’s army then I think it will be of use to me, after all I only have the one bastard slaver to deal with not one hundred of the dogs.
 
“So what does it do?” I ask
 
The apostate pauses and scratches his head, clearly trying to recall what he knows about the thing, and then he opens his mouth to say something but lets the thought trail off...
 
“It...Drains a mage of their power...Briefly...But long enough to do something unpleasant to them...Just snap the chain when you want to use it” he says handing the item to me
 
I nod and place the amulet in a small pouch on my pelt, it seems to shriek as I close the pouch on it, it may have been used to fight Magisters but part of me wonders how evil its own magic’s might be.
 
Our business concludes after I hand him a bag of coin, more as a formality than anything else...coin won’t keep the templar off this man’s back...only Atenril’s grace allows that miracle.
 

Feeling properly armed I head back to the Hanged man, Valerie will be waiting and I hope she has some good news for me, I’m eager to use this on a certain Tevinter. 
 
**********************************************

The attempt to run follows soon after the branding ends, Castor choking his harassed guard’s neck with the very chains meant to stop him harming his captors. A few moments of fumbling follow as he hunts for the key and then a brief moment of elation as the chains slide off his arms and legs.
 
The dash to freedom is a short one, a pitiful few stares and a few anxious cries for salvation from his fellow prisoners are all Castor experiences before a large hang grasps his neck and hurls him back down the stairs.
 
The slavers have some fun at his expense after that, they beat him with sticks and fists laughing and joking as they draw blood and bruise his body. Castor expects to be executed for this attempt...and he almost hopes for it, at least it would be a release from further torment.
 
Pell is informed soon afterwards, he doesn’t even look up from his papers as he sits at his desk far away in a lavish high town manor. Bruta asks in his gruff voice if the slave should be killed as an example, standard policy for runaways.
 
Corvinus raises a hand signalling Bruta to be quiet and listen “too valuable, have him hobbled instead, pitiful waste of good merchandise to kill him...as long as his tongue and brain remain functional he’ll still be a profitable sale” Corvinus says with a dark smile
 
Bruta nods and gruffly voices agreement, the hulking centurion has always been a faithful servant to Corvinus and despite his somewhat narrow understanding of things he never questions...Bruta obeys and that is all Corvinus desires in servants.
 
A short time later Castor is dragged bruised and bloodied to a small stone hall, laid on a stone slab, he hopes it will be a quick death and hopes Erian will forgive his reckless act...surely they intend to slay him as a lesson?
 
A hulking man in Tevinter armour enters the room, gripping a large two handed stone hammer in both hands, Castor’s heart begins to pound in his chest and he soils himself as the beastly figure approaches grinning beneath his helm.

Two swift hammer blows follow, bones shattering and a blood chilling scream echoing through the dark town slave pens. The prisoners huddle together in fearful silence as the screams echo past. No fitful sleep will be gained tonight amongst these unfortunates, who could slumber when such noises fill the air?

[Slim Warden]

I've missed reading this story, it's good stuff.