8061 réponses à ce sujet

[tmp7704]

Shadow of Light Dragon wrote...

I'm trying to figure out if that's a scrape on Zev's belly, or lipstick marks

As far as i can tell it's both... someone had sharp nails /and/ an incentive to dig them in.

Modifié par tmp7704, 24 avril 2011 - 06:10 .

[Minaleth]

Rooster's comment to solve the mystery: "And... lipstick? Hicky? Is it upside down? Hmm... There are some scratch marks right beside it too. OH Zev! You naughtay elf."

[Shadow of Light Dragon]

HAha, perfect, Mina. Thanks ;D

[Aroihkin]

Hilde wrote...

@ Aro ~  The gloves/gauntlets. Oh my. I really, really like the gloves.    It is amazing so far!

I'm surprised there isn't more gauntlet!porn (so to speak) out there for this guy. I wrote hand-porn on the kinkmeme for Fenris in part because of those damn gauntlets. XD

elenilote wrote...

@Aro - you press a lot of buttons with this one 
Let's see... Elves - not just any elves at that, but these three especially!And gauntlets! And Tannublood! 

I especially like that each has their own distinctive skin colour, just makes the whole thing just that much nicer.

Have you given thought to the background yet? 

Made of win! you are   

XD Yay button pushing. Elves In Black helped me figure out a tone to use for Fenris, thankfully! I hated the colors I used for his skin in In Vino Veritas.

I've thrown in a vague dark "background" so far, but am going to try an experiment later and see how it goes. At worst it'll just be this vague darkness.

WIP update:



Fenris' skin isn't done yet, fyi, and I still need to draw the feather things at his elbows, on top of all the other obvious stuff that still needs to be done. Like... hair, and gauntlets, and all of Zev's ink, and my experiment with a background. XD

Modifié par Aroihkin, 25 avril 2011 - 02:22 .

[elenilote]

@ Aro
I like the scrape on Tannu's throat (more Tannublood!). Just had a wicked thought on the background...they could be standing in water (seeing as you've conveniently chopped them off at the waist) - bath or pool or something

[jenovan]

Halae Dral wrote...



Prompt: Temptation

Could be anything from what you think a demon would be most likely to offer Zevran in the Fade (or does, in the case of Sloth) to an intense urge to play a practical joke on someone - or something else entirely that I haven't thought of. Funny, serious, resisting it or giving in, what have you.

Eep, where IS everybody? Did the holiday break consume people? ;
Is an extension warranted?  (At the prompter's judgment of course)

My entry, messily done but here.
The Contest
Time: 2:15
Prompts: 2

[Remmirath]

I think an extension would make sense, with the break and all, though I'm not sure how much of one. Does until Friday sound reasonable?

[Hilde]

Friday sounds great if we can.    A paper has kept me buried so far this week, but I do have something brewing for this.

Edit: I just realized what break you two are talking about above, I was trying to figure out if I missed a holiday...guess I did.  I need some sleep.

Modifié par Hilde, 27 avril 2011 - 04:53 .

[Remmirath]

All right, Friday it is then. Update/reminder...





Prompt: Temptation

Could be anything from what you think a demon would be most likely to offer Zevran in the Fade (or does, in the case of Sloth) to an intense urge to play a practical joke on someone - or something else entirely that I haven't thought of. Funny, serious, resisting it or giving in, what have you.

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday midnight (EST)  April 29th
Prize:  I can draw something for you. Whatever you want, within reason (by 'reason' I mean mostly 'my ability to do so'). I can also try and write something, if you prefer, but expect that to take at least twice as long.

[Aroihkin]

elenilote wrote...

@ Aro
I like the scrape on Tannu's throat (more Tannublood!). Just had a wicked thought on the background...they could be standing in water (seeing as you've conveniently chopped them off at the waist) - bath or pool or something

I was thinking about that originally (inspired by the lovely Tannu/Fenris pic Amorius did) but I don't know how well I can pull off water in this yet. XD

I may give it a shot anyway. If it fails, I don't have to upload that one. XDD



(And it's been VERY quiet pretty much everywhere I hang out, right now. It's got to be holiday stuff.)

[elenilote]

Yeah the holidays mess things up a bit... hope it'll pick up soon again!
And do give it a shot - bet it turns out great whatever you say!

XD

[Corker]

Halae Dral wrote...

All right, Friday it is then. Update/reminder...





Prompt: Temptation

Could be anything from what you think a demon would be most likely to offer Zevran in the Fade (or does, in the case of Sloth) to an intense urge to play a practical joke on someone - or something else entirely that I haven't thought of. Funny, serious, resisting it or giving in, what have you.

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday midnight (EST)  April 29th

The Temptation of Virtue
~ 1 hr
3 prompts

The Wardens were giving him time, although truth be told, he did not want the kindness. Time was to reflect, to remember, perhaps even to grieve, and he wished to do none of those things.

Much better to look ahead, to the future. Life was too uncertain for grand plans, but opportunities had to be exploited. And this was an opportunity. Taliesen was dead, failed in his task. If Zevran started moving now, he could be anywhere in Thedas before the Crows realized they needed to send another man. And then they wouldn’t know where to send him.

Or, he could probably die fighting the Archdemon.

The decision shouldn’t be nearly as hard as it was.

He frowned and shook his head. It was ridiculous. He should go. Down to the docks, find a ship, get out of Denerim before the worst happened. He was no Grey Warden; the Blight was not his concern. And the Warden had made it abundantly clear that she disapproved of him.

No, there was definitely no reason to ‘see this through,’ as if that mattered. There was no contract, no Crow master to report to. The loot was decent, he had to admit, but not worth dying for. And these people he traveled with... young buffoon, old buffoon, drunk and dangerous buffoon; tricky witch, silent qunari, frigid bard, angry elf. None would miss him, were he to go.

And he would certainly not miss them.

There was the matter of his oath. Not that the Warden seemed to value it at all, but this should be done correctly. He should ask to leave. Make it official. It was impossible that she’d ask him to stay.

Although if she did, what would you...

He assassinated that line of thought, trotted down the stairs to the two Wardens. He explained the situation, his desire to go, while the Crows were off his scent.

Her face was always closed, but he thought it softened a bit, with sadness or disappointment. It made him angry, just a little. She shrugged, one-shouldered. “You’re a free man. You want to go? Go.”

So he went.

[Shadow of Light Dragon]

Halae Dral wrote...

All right, Friday it is then. Update/reminder...





Prompt: Temptation

Could be anything from what you think a demon would be most likely to offer Zevran in the Fade (or does, in the case of Sloth) to an intense urge to play a practical joke on someone - or something else entirely that I haven't thought of. Funny, serious, resisting it or giving in, what have you.

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday midnight (EST)  April 29th

I think I'm past the deadline, so non-entry if so, otherwise:

1.5 hours, 2 prompts.

Tempting Fate

“Zevran? What are you looking at?”

“Look,” Zevran murmured when Taliesen joined him, indicating the display behind the glossy glass. “That pair in the middle. Magnificent, no?”

They were boots, Antivan, and of the finest quality a man could ask for. The ornately imprinted leather looked new, soft and supple, not a scratch or scuff marring it. They also looked like they were just his size.

Taliesen eyed the boots skeptically, then gave the elf a sidelong glance. Zevran pretended to ignore him. Taliesen had stopped giving him strange looks ever since he’d convinced the man the Rinna incident was over and forgotten, but they’d started up again when Zevran had seized upon the post in Ferelden—and declined Taliesen’s company. Not too many days from now and Zevran would be leaving Antivan, and Taliesen seemed determined to talk Zevran into changing his mind and letting him come along.

“They’re…nice boots,” Taliesen said. So the man had decided to humour him; he didn’t have much of an interest in fashion. Clothes, in Taliesen’s opinion, were only worth coin if they were easy to remove—or needn’t be taken off at all.

Zevran summoned a smirk. “Fine boots, like bracers, need not come off, my friend. And you have not known leather until you have touched Antivan leather. Come!” He strode into the shop, followed by his reluctant companion.

The merchant bowed subserviently low when he realised he was dealing with Crows, bowing and scraping as he retrieved the footwear Zevran wished to examine. The elf held one boot and passed the other to Taliesen.

“Touch it, my friend! Soft and smooth, not the stiff, hardened trash the Crows decide is good enough for raw recruits. This is quality…and the smell—” Zevran lifted the leather to his nose and inhaled deeply, lustily, as though enjoying the scent of an expensive meal. Taliesen, by contrast, almost gagged and held his boot out at arm’s length.

“You like, yes?” the merchant appealed to Zevran, who smiled.

“How much?”

A price was quoted that wasn’t as much as Zevran would have expected had he not been a fearsome assassin, but was nevertheless more than he thought he could afford.

Taliesen was already mentally calculating. “With that extra cut from the Rinna mission, minus all the coin you spent on equipment repairs, wine and that really nice room we rented to celebrate in style…you should have enough left, unless you’ve been sneaking off to the ****houses without asking me along.”

That extra cut…

Zevran shook himself mentally, took the second boot from Taliesen’s hand and said, “I will try them on first, hm?”

It only took a minute, with the merchant’s aid, wriggling his feet out of his usual boots and sliding the new ones on. Zevran was distracted by Taliesen’s dredging up of the ‘Rinna mission’, as he liked to term it, by the feel of the Antivan leather passing over his skin: they slid across his calves like warm butter, perfectly comfortable, precisely his size, and when he stood to take a few experimental paces across the floor he fancied it was like walking on velvet. He stopped before a low mirror to admire the leather’s gloss and the design, the very colour complementing his skin tone. Maker, but they were perfect. And here as though they’d been waiting just for him…

Taliesen was watching him preen, though Zevran suspected the human was more interested in lithely muscled legs than expensive leather. Or perhaps he was imagining seeing Zevran wearing nothing but, as had been suggested before.

“So are you buying them or not? You should have enough, thanks to—”

“Yes, I am aware,” Zevran interrupted, annoyed. He tried to hide it and wasn’t sure if he succeeded, but it soured him to the purchase. Reward himself with a new pair of expensive boots, funded with gold he only possessed because Rinna had been killed, and her share had gone to the two team mates who had murdered her.

You can’t punish yourself for that forever, Zevran.

No? Then why am I going to Ferelden?

He sat and changed boots again, returning the perfect pair to the merchant with a regretful smile.

“Change of heart?” Taliesen asked, watching him.

Zevran tried for a casual shake of his head. “Not as such. Soon I leave for Ferelden, as you know—land of dogs and mud. I would sooner die than wear such boots through scum and animal sh!t. But when I return after another grand success…if they are not yet sold…” And here he gave the boots a last look of genuine longing before turning to leave.

Ferelden.

Death awaited him there. He would stop thinking of boots, of Crows, of Rinna, of what he had done and what he was, and just…stop.

That was what he wanted.

That was all he wanted.

[frostajulie]

SoLD that was so good and sorrowful and spot on. As usual your work amazes me

[Remmirath]

All right, it's now been... err, one whole day since the deadline, and it's about time I got to the results. Sorry this took so long, guys! I have no good excuse. (Unless you happen to consider 'I was playing D&D all day and it slipped my mind!' a good excuse, in which case I guess do.) 

Halae Dral wrote...



Prompt: Temptation

Could
be anything from what you think a demon would be most likely to offer
Zevran in the Fade (or does, in the case of Sloth) to an intense urge to
play a practical joke on someone - or something else entirely that I
haven't thought of. Funny, serious, resisting it or giving in, what have
you.

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday midnight (EST)  April 29th
Prize: 
I can draw something for you. Whatever you want, within reason (by
'reason' I mean mostly 'my ability to do so'). I can also try and write
something, if you prefer, but expect that to take at least twice as
long.

 Entries...

jenovan wrote...

My entry, messily done but here.
The Contest
Time: 2:15
Prompts: 2

I like the 'not wanting to be the first to give in' angle, and the making a game of it! Quite well written, too.

Corker wrote...

The Temptation of Virtue
~ 1 hr
3 prompts

The
Wardens were giving him time, although truth be told, he did not want
the kindness. Time was to reflect, to remember, perhaps even to grieve,
and he wished to do none of those things.

Much better to look
ahead, to the future. Life was too uncertain for grand plans, but
opportunities had to be exploited. And this was an opportunity.
Taliesen was dead, failed in his task. If Zevran started moving now, he could be anywhere in Thedas before the Crows realized they needed to
send another man. And then they wouldn’t know where to send him.

Or, he could probably die fighting the Archdemon.

The decision shouldn’t be nearly as hard as it was.

He
frowned and shook his head. It was ridiculous. He should go. Down to
the docks, find a ship, get out of Denerim before the worst happened.
He was no Grey Warden; the Blight was not his concern. And the Warden had made it abundantly clear that she disapproved of him.

No,
there was definitely no reason to ‘see this through,’ as if that
mattered. There was no contract, no Crow master to report to. The loot
was decent, he had to admit, but not worth dying for. And these people
he traveled with... young buffoon, old buffoon, drunk and dangerous
buffoon; tricky witch, silent qunari, frigid bard, angry elf. None
would miss him, were he to go.

And he would certainly not miss them.

There was
the matter of his oath. Not that the Warden seemed to value it at all,
but this should be done correctly. He should ask to leave. Make it
official. It was impossible that she’d ask him to stay.

Although if she did, what would you...

He
assassinated that line of thought, trotted down the stairs to the two
Wardens. He explained the situation, his desire to go, while the Crows
were off his scent.

Her face was always closed, but he thought
it softened a bit, with sadness or disappointment. It made him angry, just a little. She shrugged, one-shouldered. “You’re a free man. You
want to go? Go.”

So he went.

I particularly like the descriptions of everyone else in the party, and how it seems as though neither of them really wanted that outcome. Very nice. 

Non-entries...

Shadow of Light Dragon wrote...

1.5 hours, 2 prompts.

Tempting Fate

“Zevran? What are you looking at?”

“Look,”
Zevran murmured when Taliesen joined him, indicating the display behind
the glossy glass. “That pair in the middle. Magnificent, no?”

They
were boots, Antivan, and of the finest quality a man could ask for. The
ornately imprinted leather looked new, soft and supple, not a scratch
or scuff marring it. They also looked like they were just his size.

Taliesen
eyed the boots skeptically, then gave the elf a sidelong glance. Zevran
pretended to ignore him. Taliesen had stopped giving him strange looks
ever since he’d convinced the man the Rinna incident was over and forgotten, but they’d started up again when Zevran had seized upon the
post in Ferelden—and declined Taliesen’s company. Not too many days from
now and Zevran would be leaving Antivan, and Taliesen seemed determined
to talk Zevran into changing his mind and letting him come along.

“They’re…nice
boots,” Taliesen said. So the man had decided to humour him; he didn’t
have much of an interest in fashion. Clothes, in Taliesen’s opinion,
were only worth coin if they were easy to remove—or needn’t be taken off
at all.

Zevran summoned a smirk. “Fine boots, like bracers, need
not come off, my friend. And you have not known leather until you have
touched Antivan leather. Come!” He strode into the shop, followed by his reluctant companion.

The
merchant bowed subserviently low when he realised he was dealing with
Crows, bowing and scraping as he retrieved the footwear Zevran wished to
examine. The elf held one boot and passed the other to Taliesen.

“Touch
it, my friend! Soft and smooth, not the stiff, hardened trash the Crows
decide is good enough for raw recruits. This is quality…and the smell—”
Zevran lifted the leather to his nose and inhaled deeply, lustily, as though enjoying the scent of an expensive meal. Taliesen, by contrast,
almost gagged and held his boot out at arm’s length.

“You like, yes?” the merchant appealed to Zevran, who smiled.

“How much?”

A
price was quoted that wasn’t as much as Zevran would have expected had
he not been a fearsome assassin, but was nevertheless more than he
thought he could afford.

Taliesen was already mentally
calculating. “With that extra cut from the Rinna mission, minus all the
coin you spent on equipment repairs, wine and that really nice
room we rented to celebrate in style…you should have enough left, unless
you’ve been sneaking off to the ****houses without asking me along.”

That extra cut…

Zevran shook himself mentally, took the second boot from Taliesen’s hand and said, “I will try them on first, hm?”

It
only took a minute, with the merchant’s aid, wriggling his feet out of
his usual boots and sliding the new ones on. Zevran was distracted by
Taliesen’s dredging up of the ‘Rinna mission’, as he liked to term it,
by the feel of the Antivan leather passing over his skin: they slid
across his calves like warm butter, perfectly comfortable, precisely his
size, and when he stood to take a few experimental paces across the
floor he fancied it was like walking on velvet. He stopped before a low
mirror to admire the leather’s gloss and the design, the very colour complementing his skin tone. Maker, but they were perfect. And here as though they’d been waiting just for him…

Taliesen
was watching him preen, though Zevran suspected the human was more
interested in lithely muscled legs than expensive leather. Or perhaps he
was imagining seeing Zevran wearing nothing but, as had been suggested before.

“So are you buying them or not? You should have enough, thanks to—”

“Yes,
I am aware,” Zevran interrupted, annoyed. He tried to hide it and
wasn’t sure if he succeeded, but it soured him to the purchase. Reward
himself with a new pair of expensive boots, funded with gold he only
possessed because Rinna had been killed, and her share had gone to the
two team mates who had murdered her.

You can’t punish yourself for that forever, Zevran.

No? Then why am I going to Ferelden?

He sat and changed boots again, returning the perfect pair to the merchant with a regretful smile.

“Change of heart?” Taliesen asked, watching him.

Zevran
tried for a casual shake of his head. “Not as such. Soon I leave for
Ferelden, as you know—land of dogs and mud. I would sooner die than wear
such boots through scum and animal sh!t. But when I return after
another grand success…if they are not yet sold…” And here he gave the
boots a last look of genuine longing before turning to leave.

Ferelden.

Death
awaited him there. He would stop thinking of boots, of Crows, of Rinna,
of what he had done and what he was, and just…stop.

That was what he wanted.

That was all he wanted.

I really like this. It's an interesting snippet of the past to explore, and I like how you brought the thing with Rinna into it.



After much deliberation, and resisting the urge to cop out and flip a coin - they were both excellent - the winner is... Corker. PM me if you want anything for a prize! 

The next prompter is Jenovan, with 2 prompts.

[jenovan]

@Halae Dral - thank ya! :3   I think Zev and that particular Warden are both a bit competitive... why not in that arena, too? XD

@SoLD, awesome as always   I love the interplay between the two, and the strong reason why Zevran *won't* buy the boots




Prompt: A Secret

Zevran knows a secret of the Warden's.  How did he find out?  What does he think about it?  Does he keep it, or not?  Any angle is fair game

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday 11:59 PM (EST)  May 6th
Prize:  I'll do my best to write a story of your choice :3

I'm out of town at the moment but should have decent net access, so it shouldn't slow me down too much. ;D

[Shadow of Light Dragon]

Grats Corker! I always love seeing more of the Vashti continuity. So sad that it seems like she wants Zev to stay on as a friend (or fellow elf?) but can't/won't ask him :/

@jen, Thanks! And that was a great little dance you had Devin and Zevran performing Looks like the assassin met his match for once ;D Ooh, and nice prompt...this one could be fun... >

@Halae Dral & frostajulie - Thank you. I wondered a bit why Zevran *wouldn't* buy those boots if he could afford them. If he was intending to go off and die it wasn't like he'd need his money... :/

[Corker]

@SoLD, thanks. I think if he'd framed it almost any other way, she might have said something, but posing it as a matter of freedom... She would have liked for him to want to stay, but if he doesn't, he's made it every so clear that the bonds of clan and family aren't for him. Rules, so many rules!

(I keep thinking of the musical "Pippin," only Catherine fails to convince Pippin that there's happiness in a life that's bound to others... so they both miss out.)

Seconding all the love you're getting on yours, too. Tying the boots to the 'Rinna job' makes perfect sense - why he'd wax so poetical about them to the Warden (they were the perfect boots!) and why he left without them. And loling forever at Taliesen's fashion preferences. XD

@jenovan, ooo, nice prompt! I liked both the sense of gamesmanship you showed but even more, how bloody tiring it must be to have to live like that, always wondering if this posture means something, or if that idle expression has a deeper meaning... Nothing's certain, everyone wears a mask, and trust is for fools. I assume they both eventually get past that, but I do hope we'll one day read how.

[Corker]

Page two? Thread, I am disappoint. 

jenovan wrote...



Prompt: A Secret

Zevran knows a secret of the Warden's.  How did he find out?  What does he think about it?  Does he keep it, or not?  Any angle is fair game

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday 11:59 PM (EST)  May 6th
Prize:  I'll do my best to write a story of your choice :3

Keeping Secrets
Time: 40 min
Prompts: 3

It was an almost trivial job, in many respects.  He knew the palace inside and out, where the shadows fell this time of the year, the rotation of the guards.  The target was elderly, a woman and no warrior.  A pillow over the face, and then back under the head, and in the morning it would be natural causes, so sad.  But it was just her time.

Actually, it is past her time, he mused, easing the window open.  And therein lies the real risk here.  Death must not be cheated again, or it would be the end of them both.  He could handle a sudden abomination - just let her rampage out into the hall, wait for the commotion, appear from the shadows.  No one would question.  But a witness?  That was deadly.

He silently pulled himself over the ledge, taking care not to disturb the bench just below it, nor the pile of books and yarn to his left.  A cushion on the right he had selected earlier in the day as suitable for the task, and picked it up.

Then, perhaps foolishly, he crossed the room to the writing desk.  This was not a Crow job, after all, but a personal one; he was not being paid to not ask questions.  If he wanted assurance that the mark needed to die, that was his risk to take.  The last time he had been too hasty... well.  He found the false bottom of the drawer easily enough, lifted out the papers there.  A quick glance confirmed it.  She was amassing evidence to betray them.  Circumstantial, mostly: unexplained injuries, late-night sojourns into the city, suspicious messengers.  She clearly suspected and would, given time, find enough proof to take to Knight Commander Tavish.

Regret evaporated.  He placed the papers on the desk, to be retrieved after.  Then he padded to the side of the bed and dropped, pressing the pillow to the familiar face with his hands and using his body to pin hers.  He was smaller, but stronger by far.

She woke suddenly, struggling, muffled noises coming from under the pillow.  His name?  He could not tell, but who else would she suspect in this?  He waited.  White light flared, and he waited.  All went still, and he waited.  

Finally, he got up, checked for pulse and breathing.  None.  He replaced the cushion, smoothed the face, arranged the body, and neatly tucked her in.  Gone, peacefully in her sleep, as far as anyone would be able to prove.

The Chancellor's secret was safe.

[Aroihkin]

@ Corker -- I like him snooping because it isn't a Crow mission. Don't want him snooping? Pay him! XD

WIP update since I've done more to Zev finally~



1500 x 1500

The actual picture is 6000 x 6000, 400dpi. But there hasn't been any problems with that size at all since reinstalling my OS, so it's all good. :3 Doing stuff with a mouse is easier with lots of room to flail around in, though I'm arguably pretty precise by this point...

Modifié par Aroihkin, 03 mai 2011 - 11:57 .

[Corker]

It just keeps getting better, Aro!

[Aroihkin]

 <3

I wish I drew thirty billion times faster so I could just spam Zevthread with Zev art all day long and keep us from falling to page 2, lolol. It's not like I don't have ideas...

(Edit: I'm lolling at myself, having just checked the pic while saving a jpeg copy to show the roommate, I see that I made it 600 dpi. 300/400 is the top that is really that visible in the end. Oh well. XDD As long as it isn't slowing my comp down, who cares if it's over the top, right? lolol)

Modifié par Aroihkin, 04 mai 2011 - 03:23 .

[Aroihkin]

It's too quiet in here. >o

Have someone else's arts, Zevthread. Click on it to go to the DA page.





Edit since I don't want to triple-post, this is done:

Modifié par Aroihkin, 05 mai 2011 - 07:58 .

[Remmirath]

@Corker - Nice! It took me maybe a bit longer than it should've to figure out who the target was, but that's probably another indication I really should be asleep right now. I like the checking to make sure bit.

@Aroihkin - That looks really good. I can't really think of anything else to say, but great job! 

jenovan wrote...



Prompt: A Secret

Zevran knows a secret of the Warden's.  How did he find out?  What does he think about it?  Does he keep it, or not?  Any angle is fair game

Time Limit: 3 hours
Deadline: Friday 11:59 PM (EST)  May 6th
Prize:  I'll do my best to write a story of your choice :3

Time: 48 minutes
Prompts: 1

I've been really busy this week and almost didn't manage to do anything, but then I had trouble sleeping tonight so I figured I might as well do something. Different Warden for once.

- - -

"All right, everyone - we're going to go in there, and we're going to take what we want! No mercy!"

Zevran listened to the Warden's speech with some bemusement. He had been going on like this at length - striking a dramatic pose while standing atop a rock, gesturing wildly with a sword that he had very little notion how to use - but finally seemed to be finishing up now. He had been detailing a plan to descend upon the village of Haven, take all of their goods and weapons, and burn the town after they left.

At first Zevran had thought he was joking; Senravin Mahariel was a somewhat strange man, but there had been no previous indication that he possessed a burning desire for banditry. However, it had quickly become evident that the Warden's heart was set on sacking the village, and so he had agreed to go along. Perhaps there was some greater goal to it after all, or perhaps the stress had finally got to Senravin and he had gone somewhat mad. Well, more than he had already been. The Warden had been a bit touched ever since Zevran could recall. Either way, Zevran did not think that letting the Warden run off to torch the town on his own would help matters.

"Are you all with me?" Senravin looked out towards his audience, which consisted only of Zevran, Morrigan, Sten, and a completely oblivious bird sitting in the trees.

Morrigan shrugged. She appeared to have been quite bored by the speech. Sten made no answer save a rather non-committal nod. Zevran realised that now was his only chance to dissuade Senravin from this foolishness, but he didn't quite have the heart - or the patience for the arguement that an attempt to stop the stubborn elf would invariably cause. "I am your man," he assured the Warden, while privately hoping that the archer would forget about this by the time they reached the village. This was worse than Senravin's proposed strategy for dealing with the Orzammar situation, and it was a lucky thing they hadn't attempted that particular plan.

"Good." Senravin hopped off the rock, looked at the sword in his hand as though he was not quite sure why he was carrying it, and promptly tossed aside the offending object. "Let's head off, then. To victory!"

Exchanging uncertain looks, the others picked up their gear and followed their leader up the mountain.

It was a rather lengthy climb, during which there was very little conversation. Zevran tried to strike up a conversation with Senravin, but the Warden had sunk into one of his surly moods and responded only in grunts - or, if he was feeling particularly eloquent, one or two words. Sten was little better, but that was to be expected, and Morrigan seemed preoccupied by the cold - although of course she would not admit it.

Zevran was rather relieved, therefore, when they finally saw the village. They were met by the same rather dissipated looking gate guard they had been greeted by on their previous forray to the town - an expedition Senravin had been referring to as 'scouting out our prospects' - but he made no challenge this time, and simply let them past.

"Do you truly mean to go through with this?" Morrigan inquired, looking rather impatient about something.

"Yes." Senravin turned and looked them all in the eye, one by one. He was not a very intimidating looking man, but he did look determined.

Zevran sighed. "Well, let us get this slaughter over with then, shall we?"

Just then, they happened to notice a few stray villagers wandering about in the area. One of them walked up to the group of travelers. She was a nervous looking woman, but then everyone they had seen in Haven was nervous looking.

"Are you going to kill us all?" she asked.

Senravin had been about to reach for his bow, but his hand stopped. A look of consternation crossed his features. "No," he told her. "We're not."

"But I thought...?" Zevran began, trailing off as the Warden held up a hand and began backing away.

"What's come over me?!" Senravin cried, putting a hand to his head. "We can't do this! Away! We've gotta leave!"

Before any of them could do anything, the elf had turned and was running back the way they had just came. Sten did not move, and Morrigan appeared to be trying to pretend that she had nothing whatsoever to do with the mad elf, but Zevran ran after him.

When he caught up, he reached out and grabbed the Warden by the arm. Senravin whirled around to face him, staring at him with a horrified look.

"Zev," he hissed, gripping the assassin by the shoulders. "Don't tell anyone about this! They must never know!"

"Your secret is safe with me, my Warden," Zevran replied in as reassuring a tone as he could muster, though he was still feeling rather mystified by the whole affair. He had come to expect occasional bouts of strangeness from Senravin, but never quite this bad.

"Good. Glad to hear it." Senravin relaxed, though his eyes were still darting all around. "D'you think anyone saw?"

"Besides half the village? No, I do not believe so."

"That's all right then." Senravin laughed. "C'mon, my good assassin! Let's go see if we can find that urn, if it even exists. Someone around here'll know something!"

"I am sure the villagers will be simply thrilled to speak with us now," Zevran muttered, shaking his head as he followed Senravin back to the town square.

[Corker]

What an odd fellow your Senravin is! XD It's no wonder Sten challenged him for party leadership after that!