138 réponses à ce sujet

[Lord_Anthonior]

ximena wrote...

Medieval Bruce Wayne. That cracked me up. XDDD And Morrigan as Selina Kyle/Catwoman?

Anyway, enjoying it so far man. Keep it up.

I think I agree, Morrigan as Selina Kyle/Catwoman, the other option would be Poison Ivy for dealing with plants as she can in one comic, though Catwoman is so prrrrrrrrrB)

And alistair as Robin, you say that because alistair is so...  hahahahaha.

And if the cousland threats someone he can say when asked: "who are you?"- "I'm the warden" the other thing but that wold over do it is to have a "grey warden signal" but nah with those analogies is quite enough.

[Esbatty]

@Xi: Yay you're reading it! *pleased clapping*

Brockololly wrote...

Esbatty wrote...
But seriously, your Mom tells you she loves you outta nowhere. Your dad calling you "pup". Your big brother is just awesome. And then you have a damn dog that rocks. Then poof it all goes away. You're suddenly Medieval Bruce Wayne with Duncan as Alfred and Alistair as Robin. I use the comparison because you get the occassionaly dialogue option that basically comes down to you screaming "MY PARENTS ARE DEAD!" while enforcing your version of justice on others. (Whether they like it or not.)

Haha- thats so true. My Couslands always seem to end up a  bit Bruce Wayne-ish personality wise.

Very nice chapter! So this Omen is what demon from the Mage Tower exactly? I haven't played Origins in a bit- is it the one that was messing with that Templar that you can let go?

Hmmmm...now why would Morrigan be making deals with demons.....

Looking forward to the next chapter!

Yup, Omen is that exact one:



She was the only one that didn't come off so malevolent nor did she outright just go after your ass. You can blame metagaming for this one moment of weakness and sympathy thanks to meeting Justice and hearing how spirits and demons regard the Mortal Realm. Most of the time The "New Warden" motto  was "If It Looks Evil And Bleeds It Dies".

[ximena]

What? Why wouldn't I read it? Hahaha. I feed on MorriganxWarden fanfics and the cries and shouts of my readers.

Edric is medieval Bruce Wayne too. Especially during Awakening....where his brooding is at its highest levels.

Modifié par ximena, 25 octobre 2010 - 05:42 .

[Esbatty]

ximena wrote...

What? Why wouldn't I read it? Hahaha. I feed on MorriganxWarden fanfics and the cries and shouts of my readers.

Edric is medieval Bruce Wayne too. Especially during Awakening....where his brooding is at its highest levels.

Just reread the Catwoman comments. I must humbly agree and now I must hope someone somewhere for Halloween decides to make a Warden-Batman/Morrigan-Catwoman picture. lol

Vann had a semi-rough time in Awakening because it was just something else to fill his days and at least go thim out of Denerim. He missed having friends and a purpose.

[Esbatty]

CHAPTER 5 - Imaginary


Cousland found himself face to face with a Desire Demon with his new found family only a few paces away. The fact she had been in possession of his son the entirety of the time Morrigan and he conversed in the Dragonbone Wastes and all the time they spent travelling to this land of the dead gnawed at his stomach.
 
"Your hair is - not aflame, in fact you've no hair at all."
 
"Aye", she replied as she replaced the hood back over her features.
 
"And your horns are broken. What happened to you?"
 
With that she turned away and simply sat in the midst of the dust on the ground, once again hunched, "We died, while wandering far too close to a hidden Dalish camp that had set place near our home. I never bothered to learn how to maintain his armor and weapon so the arrows easily broke through the weakened metal."
 
"What do you mean, we? You possessed that Templar."
 
"Simon. He was a good man - good to me and the children."
 
"That was all a fantasy, you played tricks with his mind, used his own dreams against him."
 
"They were real. The children came from me. I conjured them with my own power and poured them into his mind. They were real to us and that's all that mattered."
 
The Warden hovered over the robed being, his face screwed up into a disgusted grimace as he heaped his judgements while she sat there impassive.
 
"Real? A creature that feeds on the emotions and lives of others. You're a parasite. A pestilence."
 
"Where was this bitterness those years ago? Why did you not strike us down. End his misery?" she replied coolly.
 
"I was... different then. Here I find you - this thing- in control of my child."
 
"No harm has befallen him, least not in my care. I owed you - both. I need no thanks or compensation, and seek none. You gave me a chance to experience your world through my Simon's eyes. Every moment free of The Fade and petty squabbling over the souls of Men was a blessing and I thank you."
 
He consider her words for a few moments before stealing a quick glance at Morrigan as she nursed their young son.
 
"So... Omen, how did you arrive here and not the Templar."
 
"Simon. The years with him were particularly difficult once I found I couldn't entirely sustain myself on his will alone. It came to a point where I'd press him into situations where he thought I and the children were in danger and he would be led to attack travellers, vagabonds, and any others that happened through the Brecillian Forests."
 
"That is horrid."
 
"No, I could sense what lurked in the hearts of the coming men. We - I spared the innocent and set my Simon upon the rest. It worked well enough as he would capture and bind them allowing me to have my way with their lives. But then the Dalish came and they left him to die of his wounds. My beautiful Simon, lying in a pool of his blood. I used the last vestiges of my own energy to give him the rest of our lives together. He saw his children grown, married, grandchildren and then we passed together in slumber."
 
Soft sobs issued from the hood as her head sank against her chest. Cousland took a few steps back, his face slackened, the bile within him receding leaving him feeling empty. This was far divorced from anything he had experienced beyond his time at Vigil's Keep in the company of the spirit of Justice that possessed the Orlesian Grey Warden Kristoff.
 
"He - he called me his 'Good Omen' the first time I revealed myself to him", she cleared her throat and sighed. "My intent was to seduce him and simply be free of The Fade much like all the rest that slipped through, but I chose poorly, he was not a man of the flesh. He never debased himself with petty jealousies and bodily wants. But I spent so much time inside of him, absorbing his essence that when he passed I willingly let my grasp of him go and I found myself wandering through a dark passage. I followed the light out and found myself naked and alone. I walked forth, drawn by some unseen force that pulled me for hours until I spied a caravan in the distance."
 
"A caravan? There were travellers - others like you?" Cousland's curiosity was suddenly peaked, be it that so far Omen and his son were the only other beings he had met in this darkened, scarlet land.
 
"No, not like me. They were human or rather were human. Some of them spotted me in the distance and they made haste to intercept my approach. They called me all manners of names and curses, Qunari was the one most muttered. I was - savaged in turn, and left for dead. The one they called Howe had my horns broken, taken as trophies."
 
"Wait... Howe? Nathaniel Howe?"
 
"The name was simply Howe. I know not any other names."
 
"Its Rendon Howe," Morrigan spoke as she approached with his pup taking his sup. "Unless you led his eldest to his death during your command."
 
A pit formed once again his stomach, a wave of revulsion and anger welled up. Even in death the snake was making other's eternal rest a waking hell.
 
"It was your companion here who found me nursing my wounds. It appears here death is no longer a reprieve from one's suffering., the damage that was done unto myself was severe enough that had I been in the land of the living or even The Fade I'd have ceased to be."
 
"So you're saying I can't kill Howe - again."
 
"No! Absolutely not. I will not have you dragging me - and our child into some revenge crusade", Morrigan protested fiercely.
 
"He is a monster. He- he- gah! He attacked Omen, unprovoked."
 
"Tsk, a moment ago you were ready to run her through for playing nursemaid to our Son."
 
"I don't care - he's - he's got to die. We can't be safe with that lunatic marauding about."
 
"We'll simply avoid others. I can't - lose you my Warden." a flash of genuine concern crossed Morrigan's face.
 
Cousland was taken aback at this, "Lose me? She said in this place we are free from death."
 
"Fool! They cannot die. They- are- dead. We yet live. Our spirits are not separate from our corporeal form. That is why we're are not drawn to follow the rest of the Pilgrim's March. We are foreign invaders from the Mortal Realm. To them we are unnatural - anathema. Here we are the abominations."

Modifié par Esbatty, 25 octobre 2010 - 11:14 .

[Morrigans God son]

Oh my word! You're a genius. Well done Sir.

[stormrain]

That chapter was awesome. "Here we are the abominations." That was chilling to read.

So from how your Cousland reacted, did Nathaniel not survive the siege on Vigil's Keep? Or was he hanged?

[Esbatty]

Captain Uccisore wrote...

That chapter was awesome. "Here we are the abominations." That was chilling to read.
So from how your Cousland reacted, did Nathaniel not survive the siege on Vigil's Keep? Or was he hanged?

The most recent Howe he dealt with was Nathaniel. So it was a shock to hear that he might be dead. It was more a split second of relief then a tidal wave of vomitous rage when learning it was the Elder Howe. My Cousland boys were thorough in their upkeep of Vigil's keep. All the armor upgrades, all the Keep upgrades and closing of the Deep Roads tunnels. Except this Cousland let Amaranthine burn.

Modifié par Esbatty, 26 octobre 2010 - 02:20 .

[Esbatty]

CHAPTER 6.1 - Eye

It was all said and done.

There'd be no confronting Rendon Howe, the murderous bastard who upended The Warden's life, instead he found himself tasked with setting up a proper camp while Omen watched the child, and Morrigan gathered whatever scraps of kindling and fuel for the fire.

Having only packed for themselves he found that the two tents went up quickly, only Morrigan brought a second bedroll and offered it to Omen, whom declined. Here she knew not the urge to sleep only the one beckoning for her to join the others that they had yet to encounter themselves.

As for Cousland sleep did not come, rather he spent his time adding small handfuls of sparse yellow grass clumps and what passed for twigs to the fire. He could see their once demonic companion standing off at a distance from their encampment simply staring into the dark.

"You must gather your strength. You will find rest will once again become a luxury, albeit necessary in the time to come. This world can dull the senses, stealing your will to go on, and we must avoid that at all cost. Do not deny yourself your most basic of needs", The Warden turned and found the Witch behind him kneeling, her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"I feel - impotent, my hands tied. I'm just so used to striking out and taking control of situations.", he lamented.

She tilted her head to the side and concentrated on his face. Worry had begun to etch and wizen his once youthful features as did the scars from the battles they once fought togther and the ones that came after. Fingers that had remained delicate despite their mistress' heavy use traced the paths formed by wrinkles and hastily healed wounds on the warrior's face.

He was no longer the lost boy in the wilds she met long ago. Neither was he the passionate youth she so easily baited to her tent. Countless nights lost in the throes of each others desire that slowly devolved into an attachment she would come to regret. His gaze weighed heavy on her, there was a wanting in them for her own eyes to meet his but she kept them elsewhere on his face.

"I cannot do this."

"Do what? You're driving me mad with this- these mysteries. I am full of questions and yet I do not voice the bulk of them out of fear of the answers."

"This. I do not have the time to love you as you so freely wish. My responsiblities to the raising and training of my Son must come first."

She pulled her hand back but he deftly caught her wrist in a firm grip.

"As you've said we are here because you need time to do so. And I won't deny you that, but you can't deny yourself - ourselves. We need this."

"Unhand me", her eyes narrowed.

His grip slackened with a cry of sudden pain, he crumpled forward and the shaft of a crude arrow stuck out from his back.

***

To Be Continued...

Modifié par Esbatty, 26 octobre 2010 - 11:29 .

[Lord_Anthonior]

Esbatty wrote...

Captain Uccisore wrote...

That chapter was awesome. "Here we are the abominations." That was chilling to read.
So from how your Cousland reacted, did Nathaniel not survive the siege on Vigil's Keep? Or was he hanged?

The most recent Howe he dealt with was Nathaniel. So it was a shock to hear that he might be dead. It was more a split second of relief then a tidal wave of vomitous rage when learning it was the Elder Howe. My Cousland boys were thorough in their upkeep of Vigil's keep. All the armor upgrades, all the Keep upgrades and closing of the Deep Roads tunnels. Except this Cousland let Amaranthine burn.

My Cousland did the same, let it burn and protect the farmers those with less protection and be at vigil's keep. Also if I had stayed in Amaranthine I tell them to kill the capture darkspawn. As Morrigan said, I have a darker side.

I like how Morrigan has been with the Warden just don't make her so cold or unattached since she wanted him to come with her through the mirror, as the formality yes, her determination and priorities also great no argument there at all since that's what I love about her, only that since she is no longer with other companions she could open up freely, just wanted to say something. I do like how the story is going.

[Esbatty]

Lord_Anthonior wrote...
I like how Morrigan has been with the Warden just don't make her so cold or unattached since she wanted him to come with her through the mirror, as the formality yes, her determination and priorities also great no argument there at all since that's what I love about her, only that since she is no longer with other companions she could open up freely, just wanted to say something. I do like how the story is going.

Things have settled down from the intial excitement of the couple's reunion, and "The Family" finally becoming whole. But now that there is some "down time" Morrigan just realizes as she's about to finally enjoy having her cake and eating it too that maybe its not the right thing to do, despite it all having fallen into place.

I mean think about it, she left her child... the most important thing to her "Plan" with a relative stranger to go back for the Warden. Thats either a HUGE amount of trust she had in Omen or she let her feelings for the Warden cloud her judgement. She took a gamble that the Warden wouldn't be pissed or that Omen wouldn't make off the child or any number of things. As much as she rubs "love as a weakness" in the Warden's face she waited for him.

So its not a coldness returning to her while getting reacquainted with Cousland its just that Wall of Truth smacking her in the face. She could have lost it all in one feel swoop - and as we all know - swooping is bad.

*SNIP*

Was about to reveal the man behind the curtain so to speak... so yeah. I'm off to read up on other topics then I'll be back, maybe, with Chapter 6.2 "Forsaken"

[Esbatty]

CHAPTER 6.2 - Forsaken


Morrigan watched the champion of her heart crumple before her very eyes. For a moment everything slowed and blurred, arrows slowly materialized around her as they pierced the earth. Her limbs fought through the mired thickness of the air as she leapt forward to her tent. Clawing open the material she simply scooped up the little body moments before three bolts tore their way through the weathered fabric and one of which buried itself where the child lay before.
 
The assailants did all this in utter silence, their ranged assault brought no beat of drum or cry of war, they fought from the darkness. Fear and surprise their allies of choice. In Ferelden they'd be branded cowards or assassins, but here in the land beyond the fade, who knew what they'd be called. Taking neither her staff or clothes, she darted out of the tent, wrapping as much of herself around the bundle clutched to her chest and fled in the direction opposite of the flechettes' flight.
 
Morrigan silently cursed herself for leaving Cousland behind, raw maternal instinct overrode any concern other than for her child. So important and defenseless as he is, she could not bear to chance the child's safety in light of this attack. The Warden could care for himself. This she was sure of.
 
"Run", was all he could manage as every breath gave way to a sharp pain within his chest. The whisper of arrows and plumes of red dust where she once sat was all he could see once he raised his head wearily from the ground.
 
Suddenly a blow came across his face, he sucked in a lungful of dust that stole the moisture from his mouth. Hefted up from the ground Cousland was restrained by a pair of unseen attackers while another blow struck him square in the solar plexus. Choking on dust and the wind forced from his body, pain racked his form. The beating that followed was little better than the ones Fergus imparted on him in their rowdy youth but never had he been skewered by an arrow at the time nor was in fear for the lives of his family.
 
"I've always wanted to do that, Cousland. You pompous little twit with your twirling blades and sharp tongue, too good to use a damn shield in the tournaments like every other noble and knight. Look at you, so helpless and bewildered."
 
The tears from the coughing and gasps obscured his vision but the rasp of a voice that addressed him was ever so familiar. A rough hand nearly ripped the hair from his scalp as his head was jerked up.
 
"Look at me you - you, I don't know. I was never one for proper insults", the featureless blur of a face suddenly came far too close for comfort as a headbutt connected with the Warden's nose.
 
"BRING ME THE CHASIND ****!", it bellowed as stars and further tears burned the Warden's eyes.
 
"At least I know our tastes run similar. The lesser born girls squeal far less but are always so much more - succulent with enough prodding."
 
A wave of revulsion ran through Cousland. "Va-ughn?" he choked out.
 
"Joy of joys, he remembers", the once son of the Arl of Denerim spoke while stalking around his fellow noble. "Alright men, let him go. He is nobility after all. We should treat him as such."
 
Like a sack of mouldy potatoes the Warden hit the ground, another mouthful of red dust filled his mouth.
 
"I'm going to be honest with you, Vann, was it? I don't really hate you but something deep down inside me just gets rubbed the wrong way. Which says much because I do love being rubbed all kinds of ways. Nevertheless you and your fleet-footed friend are going to die, its just I'm going to have a bit of fun first, and fun is something we don't get alot of in these parts."

---

To be continued...

[Lord_Anthonior]

It was very good, the only time I came face to face with the responsible was at the end of his life so I can understand the grudges. Good reflex I most say, first things first so I'm glad for her thinking. Revenge is not something that can be done in that place is it? those who are there can not die again, right? so how is this situation going to get fixed, I have no idea. Things are getting even more interesting.

[Esbatty]

Lord_Anthonior wrote...

It was very good, the only time I came face to face with the responsible was at the end of his life so I can understand the grudges. Good reflex I most say, first things first so I'm glad for her thinking. Revenge is not something that can be done in that place is it? those who are there can not die again, right? so how is this situation going to get fixed, I have no idea. Things are getting even more interesting.

Never forget, there are far worse things than death.

[Morrigans God son]

Ha! Wasn't expecting that to happen again...You've got some nice twists going on in this story, I don't know what's going to happen next! Update soon!

[Lord_Anthonior]

Esbatty wrote...

Never forget, there are far worse things than death.

Of THAT I agree, there are worse things than death, I wanted to give a worse thing to howe than death but somehow he died after stumbling towards my blades...more than 30 times, the fool. 

How is this going to get fixed for Morrigan and Cousland???? that's a good question.

The plot is getting better.

[Esbatty]

Update coming later in the morning. Its a slow night tonight at work, barring some major power outage or Univision and Fox stops sending us network feeds all of a sudden. Mostly alot of FCC mandated backing up of our local news broadcasts and simply making sure everything runs seamlessly. So yeah 6.3 is going to be the the third and final part of this opening arc to In The Land Of Ever.



Man did I hate Vaughn in the City Elf origin. He is the number one seller at the Jerkstore. I guess I must admit I have abit of a crush on Shianni, I had no idea what I was getting into when I rolled up my first elf. (Female Rogue) and so to have my wedding day ruined and the violation of my cousin/bestfriend, that is rage inducing. I shanked his ass but good then.



Oddly enough when I ran Cousland through DAO, he shanked Vaughn in prison real good. I mean c'mon HOWE... Rendon Howe... the Snake that he is kept his punkass locked up. Howe may not be some sexual sadist but damn if he isn't torturous monster. So for him to have Vaughn locked up... he HAD to be bad. Not implying that the Templar or Riordan or that noble's son or Soris were bad, but none of them gave me lip when I was attempting to free them. Never look a gift Warden rescue in the taint, ya dig?



Anywho, Chapter 7 will begin a whole new story arc. We're gonna learn alot more about this world, the scope is going to definitely open up 'cause I mean c'mon people die every damn day in not only Ferelden but also Thedas, so there are defintely going to be more than like 9 or 10 people around at any given moment. Expect a few more old faces to pop up but alot more new faces. As to the people asking "when do they ever eat" or "if this is the land of the dead what could they possibly eat or drink here, so far its all dirt and more dirt" and to that I answer Morrigan's breast milk.



I'm only partially joking. lol but yeah Chapter 7 and beyond I'll get to that. Answers are coming just bear with me.



Also I'm contemplating doing some one-off stories I don't know whether to work them into this story or simply have them as separate entities. But I'm pretty damn sure the characters I'll be writing get very little positive attention so I guess we'll just see.

[Esbatty]

CHAPTER 6.3 - "March of the Pigs"

 Vaughn chattered on, most of it lost on The Warden as his grasp on his senses waxed and waned. He felt terrible, all that time of having healers at his beckon call as both King and Warden Commander left him a bit of stranger to prolonged physical suffering. A bright flare in the distance snapped him out of his internal lament.
 
"The hell was that?", Vaughn questioned to no one in particular.
 
A terrible wail filled the air and it drew closer with every passing second. Sensing no one in the immediate vicinity, Cousland picked himself up from the ground. Pain lanced across his muscles as he pushed his broken body into a stance. 'All of Ferelden for a healer', he thought. His hands ached as they worked a tatter of his tunic across his swollen eyes freeing them of the sweat and blood.
 
A careful blink later and he saw two men aflame screaming to whatever passes for a god in this forsaken land as they streaked past Vaughn. The long dead rumored rapist was also a sight to behold. He turned and faced The Warden, his mottled skin desiccated like that of a slow rotting corpse. Yet his body moved with a life that should not be.
 
Fear flashed across the dead man's dry and jerkied-face, as a painful scowl spread upon Cousland's.
 
"'Noughs 'nough, Vaughn", The Warden managed through fat, bloodied lips.
 
The ghoulish figure tensed into an attack posture like an animal. A feral grin locked on its face and it leapt forward only to be knocked to the side before its attack could connect. The Warden watched the two struggle on the ground before him. A single bolt of lightning illuminated the scene long enough for him to witness Omen's robed form bring down Morrigan's old silverite dagger into Vaughn's skull.

All hope gained by the violent victory over his attacker by the former Desire Demon was lost as the body went limp for all of a second before the malevolence of its life returned renewing its violence as it lay pinned.

"Stay down you - Bastard!" Omen cried as she withdrew the dagger from his head and began hacking at his neck which spurned even more panicked flailing from the body. The sight sickened the Warden, a nauseous gasp painfully reminded him of the projectile that remained lodged in his back.

His shoulder muscles protested as he reached back around to pull it free, but a voice stayed his hand.

"No, you fool. T'will only make it worse."

Morrigan's figure swam into view, their child in one arm, and a pair of crossbows in the other. Her voice sounded huskier, tired, her words came out with almost ragged breaths. But he did not care for the moment as the pair appeared safe in spite of the ambush and thus sank to his knees and hunched forward.

"Healing... please," he begged.

"I'm sorry, my Love but you will have to suffice with the mending of paupers. Time and rest."

"Then by the Maker... just take it... out of me."

Discarding the weaponry, Morrigan knelt before the Warden, child still in her possession and gently examined the still-pierced wound.

"'Tis... beyond even my knowledge. I fear its removal may cause the damage to worsen."

Cousland groaned at the news, and then once again by the pain induced by his groan.

"STOP - BLOODY - STRUGGLING!" Omen screamed in anger and frustration, as Morrigan and the Warden looked to the side and found Omen attempting to saw through the shoulder joint of Vaughn's arm. His head only partially removed from the neck lolled and flopped as the body bucked and spasmed, gurgles escaped from its exposed throat.

"Ugh, disturbing", Morrigan whispered to herself. "Just stay where you are, I'll help Omen deal with - that."

Wearily she rose to her feet and approached the grisly scene, "Leave it be, Omen. Take the child and stay by his Father."

She turned her blood spattered head and faced Morrigan, a look of hurt and rage remained fixed upon it. It softened as she looked up on her companion, who's already pale skin was nearer the silver pallor cast by the starlit sky. With a quick shove she pushed herself off the bloody mess that now clawed and grasped at the empty air above it. Taking the child from Morrigan, its makeshift blanketing was stained with blood.

Omen stood back, behind the fallen Grey Warden, and watched as Morrigan raised a bloody arm high and sprinkled her own blood on Vaughn's body. It instantly burst into flames and with that they watched as the raven-haired Witch collapsed.

***

End of Chapter.

Modifié par Esbatty, 31 octobre 2010 - 07:20 .

[Brockololly]

Crazy stuff! I envision Vaughan going all Raiders of the Lost Ark melty face in that chapter XD

[naledgeborn]

Caught up on 4-6.3. I'm enjoying this. I'm not an artist but If I were I'd try for some landscape art congruent with your vision of "mirror-world". With your blessing of course. Illustrations would really hit the spot. Good job batty.

[Esbatty]

@Brock: Good times!
 

naledgeborn wrote...

Caught up on 4-6.3. I'm enjoying this. I'm not an artist but If I were I'd try for some landscape art congruent with your vision of "mirror-world". With your blessing of course. Illustrations would really hit the spot. Good job batty.

It'd be appreciated but yeah I'm not pen and paper or tablet/photoshop artist myself. I dabble in photomanipulations but thats about it. I'm actually slowly commissioning artists to do pieces for me. Hopefully I can get Ximena to do one. Thats a personal goal there. But as for "mirror world" (i really need to name this place officially soon) its like a red version of the wilderness you see at the beginning of Army of Darkness, kinda sandy... very craggy - but uh- some shrub and grass here and there. The occassional tree. *AND SNIP* can't give away more of the damn story.

*ahem*

Anywho yeah I appreciate the sentiment and amazed someone had to "catch up". Here I'm just happy someone can take the time to click in and read a couple of lines before dismissing and moving on to better threads, lol.

[revan11exile]

cant wait for 7 to come out

[Esbatty]

@revan11exile: Wait no longer!

CHAPTER 7 - Hurt


Here there was no dreaming to be had, no fitful fantasies or relived memories, and the only nightmares were the waking ones found in the actions of others. Morrigan awoke from the emptiness behind her eyes, finding herself staring at the hastily repaired ceiling of her tent. Patches of bloodstained cloth were fastened by rough stitching to the tent's interior, blocking the holes caused by bolts loosed from ancient crossbows. The thought of that singular bolt that had stabbed into the ground where her-
 
"The child?" she breathlessly whispered, yet no answer came.
 
Any effort to lift a limb gave little more than the shifting of her prone body. How she hated the feeling of being helpless, but her current state was the consequence of taxing her very essence, her very life. As the dead do not dream, nor do they work magic, the connection to the Fade is all but absent, thus lyrium and mana have little purpose. It is blood - life itself that powers every spell and incantation. Here her Child would be safest from Flemeth or others who may seek the power of the Old God for their own purposes, and here is where He will learn the most ancient and basic forms of magic, powered by his ancient essence born into him thanks in part to the desperation of his parents.
 
"Child?" she called again half expecting a familiar hungry wail.
 
Instead beside her roused the former King. The very idea of him ruling Ferelden both pleased and disturbed her. He had assumed a leader's role so readily and easily in the quest to end The Blight. Yet again when he doubted both the intentions of the nation's Queen, binding himself in marriage even, despite the relationship he shared with his chasind, arcane lover. Having taken many a man to bed during her womanhood at Flemeth's urging, even the the very thought of him wrapped in Orlesian silks rolling about in the royal bedchamber curdled her blood.
 
She banished any further thoughts once she felt one of his hands weakly pawed at her stomach.
 
"Where is he? Our son..."
 
"Do not know."
 
"Vaughn?"
 
"Save your- breath."
 
The Warden exhaled long and slow, "Ow."
 
Neither could move more than that, but it felt reassuring to have his calloused hand upon her skin. A pair of misplaced pillows or thick sacks simply placed on their faces with a bit of pressure could turn their child into an orphan. What a pitiful pair they made.
 
What did she know of being of a Mother, really? Flemeth was no tender nurturer, any gift or nicety was merely a calculated distraction offered to keep her on the correct path. At times she felt little better than a servant but that want of power - the need for control over her own life drove her on.
 
Is that what she wants to share with her son? Her teachings in the ways of men were simply in pleasure, reproduction, and manipulation. With no intention to bed the child once grown what could she impart to him other than spells and the long storied history from which he comes forth? And his Father? Throwing away position, power, and rite for - love, of all things. What could an Old God possibly want of love? Truly what power is to be found in it? 
 
Again she banished her thoughts, her bodily weakness once again clouding her thoughts.
 
"Morrigan, I'm-"
 
"Shhh."
 
"I'm- sorry."
 
She sighed.
 
"Sorry... couldn't protect you."
 
"No", she attempted to be stern with her weak reply.
 
"Failed you... both. Failed the ones- I love... again."
 
"Shhh, something comes", she strained her senses as the rustle of the tent flap parted letting in the light of day. Both groaned as its brightness hurt their eyes.
 
Omen hovered over the pair, "Both awake? Good."
 
Her hooded robe was absent from her person leaving her as she had been originally found. Morrigan noticed that the demon's once pink hued form was more a deeper purple with touches of reddish ochre that highlighted the varied scars that marred her body. Howe had been the one that decided to take her horns as a prize but when the group had parted after beating her mercilessly, Vaughn had remained behind and did as he wished. Thus the savagery in her defense of the camp came as no surprise.
 
Omen placed a flask at the prone Witch's lips, the moisture on the opening cracked her parched lips. Small draughts of warm, bitter fluid slid down her tongue and throat. The same was done for the Warden, save for the occasional gasp and choke as he still labored to breathe let alone swallow.
 
"I have good news. You do not appear to be in any kind of danger of passing as you've both have seemed to have slept past your respective fever and body chill. Aye but you're both far too weakened to be of any use to myself or the Child so I will have to venture out to find anything we can feed or give to you to drink. So I must take the little one with me."
 
Morrigan's eyes widened and shook her head with all the disapproval she could muster.
 
"I know, you have worries but rest assured I've no intentions to harm or put him in harms way. This I swear", the former demoness offered with a salute that was markedly Templar in origin. "Besides don't worry any longer about the- unpleasantness from last night. They've all been taken care of."
 
The Warden gave a questioning grunt, reminiscent of his Mabari's own attempts at speech.
 
"They can't die but it will take them much time not only to heal but to free themselves - if they are so determined."
 
The reddish grime and broken blisters on her hands told the rest of the tale as Morrigan watched her gently replaced the cap upon the flask. With that she idled in the tent a moment checking the repairs she had obviously performed on the tent before putting her robe back on. As Omen exited the tent Morrigan spied ragged tears at the bottom hem of her meager covering.

[Esbatty]

CHAPTER 8.1 - Crestfallen


As minutes blended into hours Morrigan and Cousland collectively stewed in their miseries. Whatever Omen had given them to drink was slowly restoring their wits and bodily control. With time working differently in this world, the day stretched on far longer than either of them were comfortable with.
 
Still in no shape to trundle around camp they resigned themselves to staying within the tent, shaded from the heat of the long day, but now they were rolled on their sides staring at each other.
 
"You do understand this is all your particular fault, yes?" Morrigan spoke first, breaking the silence.
 
"Indeed. Even apologized earlier if you did not-" he stopped for a moment his wound still gave him short bouts of pain that subsided as quickly as they came, "ahh, notice."
 
"If you had simply listened to me, and kept your damnable promise to me, I would not have waited nor would Omen have started a small fire to keep the babe warm."
 
"Again. Sorry. What else do you want of me? Blood? I can -argh- certainly spare a bit more."
 
"I am certainly considering it."
 
"Good. Wonderful. Per-rrrrgh-fect."
 
"A bit melodramatic, hmm?"
 
"Fine, it doesn't hurt that much when I speak. But your venomous words still have a sting to them", a Cheshire grin spread across his face.
 
"Oh ho! Truly, your Majesty, I believe you have achieved a modicum of sensitivity not seen since Alistair stormed out of the Landsmeet chambers."
 
Morrigan watched as his smirk melted away. She had gone too far in her prodding, their playful banter died away while another unwelcome space of silence and thought settled in.
 
She took the time to stretch a bit. Some of her energies still had yet to return but nevertheless Morrigan sat up and focused on the audible cracking of her finger joints.
 
"Must you?" the Warden piped up, having long ago flipped back onto his stomach.
 
"Shush".
 
"No."
 
"Fool."
 
"Chasin-- OWWW!"
 
Morrigan released the bit of arrow shaft that still remained in his back after having given it a bit of a light jostling.
 
"Do not address me in such a way again", she spoke returning back to rubbing down her wrists and arms. This time he kept quiet, as her toe and knee joints popped, she revelled in the sensation of relief as the circulation returned to her lower limbs. Mother had taught her the various points on the body one need to massage to avoid any discomfort as unused limbs returned to service.
 
In her attempt stand, she was caught by her wrist and yanked back down, landing on top of the Warden. She struggled in his grasp for a moment before he pulled her against himself, his arms and legs wrapping about her.
 
"Let me free", she commanded.
 
"Apologize."
 
"Absolutely not."
 
"I mean it, woman", his whispered words lightly blew her disheveled hair, tickling her ear.
 
"The next Blight will come before I utter such a thing. So in a word: Never", Morrigan's tone softened.
 
"I can wait", he buried his face in back of her neck.
 
"They could be back at any time."
 
"Mmm, they'd see nothing he'd understand nor anything she hasn't conjured up herself."

***

Part 2 of 2 coming shortly...

[Morrigans God son]

*Omen leers from outside the tent.* Steamy tent time......lol.

How long is shortly?