Thank you all for being patient with me. I got sucked into ME2, found out Meghan Shepard is pushier than Moira Surana, my husband's been gone all month to training, and I had a massive car wreck, totaling my truck. (I'm OK)
Been an eventful month. Moira seems to have reasserted herself now that Alistair's closer, so I hope to have more chapters more regularly.
The Rescue -- Completed 8/1/11
Débuté par
Sialater
, janv. 17 2010 07:16
Retour en haut
#377
Posté 25 mars 2010 - 02:28
amethyst_rose2009
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Sialater wrote...
She drew her sword and dagger. “Then let’s go find our king, shall we?”
I really love that part! Now to rescue Ali! I can't wait, Sia. I love the suspense.
#378
Posté 25 mars 2010 - 02:41
TanithAeyrs
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Glad to hear you're okay, it takes a pretty bad wreck to total a truck. I hope things smooth out for you. Love the new chapter, I suspect things won't be as easy as they appear.
#379
Posté 25 mars 2010 - 05:03
Kulkodar
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Yikes! what a month you've had. Thanks for posting this latest bit, Sia. Glad to hear you're ok. Trucks are much more easily repaired, hey? Do take care and post when you can. I've been watching and waiting. You're quite talented - the descriptions of that cesspool they had to get through was well written. I almost wanted to pinch my nose closed!
#380
Posté 25 mars 2010 - 12:33
Sialater
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Well, Kulkodar, daring rescues aren't always glamorous. 
Tanith: they certainly won't be.
Am: *hugs* Glad you liked it!
Tanith: they certainly won't be.
Am: *hugs* Glad you liked it!
#381
Posté 27 mars 2010 - 01:26
bloodtallow
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It has been such a pleasure to see this story unfold. I agree with Kulkodar that your descriptions of the sewers was very, very good.
*Can't wait for the next chapter!*
And I hope the coming month is a lot less jam-packed for you!
*Can't wait for the next chapter!*
And I hope the coming month is a lot less jam-packed for you!
#382
Posté 31 mars 2010 - 06:19
Sialater
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Part 36
Moira peered around the corner at the patrolling guards. Fortunately, they both had their backs to the small group as they walked down the narrow corridor. Zevran pushed past Moira and silently rushed the two guards. Before Moira could react, Zevran had become a blur of movement and was suddenly lowering both men to the ground silently. The mage rushed over to the assassin, but before she could ask, he whispered, “Both alive, as my Warden requested.”
“Thank you. Should we put them in one of these cells?” she asked.
“Let me relieve them of their keys, first, mi amora,” the assassin crouched down and yanked two large key rings from the guards’ belts. Shale opened one of the cells and Cullen and Zevran each dragged one of the guards into the small space and unceremoniously dropped them. Moira waded through the keys to find one that fit the lock, but the sound of boots on stone made her give up in frustration and cast a small cone of fire at the lock, melting it.
At Zevran’s rather disgusted look at the slagged metal, she shrugged, “What? They can take the door off to get to them.” Zevran just shook his head and moved forward to set up another ambush for the approaching guards. Moira hoped they wouldn’t have too many more to disable. Figuring out which cell Alistair was in was going to be difficult enough.
“We’ll deal with the guards, you start looking in cells, Cullen,” she told the ex-Templar. The taller man nodded and went back to the beginning of the hall to start peering in to the darkened interiors of the cells. Shale saw what he was attempting to do and yanked down one of the unlit torches and used Moira’s flame spell on her sword to light it and brought it to him.
By the time Moira had caught up to Zevran, though, he’d disabled another pair of guards and was dragging them into another cell. “You know, you should really let me help you with the fighting, Zevran.” She grabbed the feet of the remaining guard and started dragging him into the cell. When she dropped the guard’s feet, he was there in front of her, standing close. She resisted the urge to back up.
“I will not bring you to him harmed, mi amora. Whatever it is between us, I know you love him still. And he cannot live without you. I will not risk you so close to our goal.” He tucked a stray lock behind her pointed ear that had fallen out of her braid and into her eyes, then used that as an excuse to cup her jaw, his calloused hands gentle on her skin. “I’ve told you before, I am no cheat. I will be leaving when we are safely back in Denerim. I cannot watch you with him any longer, and I will not go behind his back.”
Moira swallowed, “What, you’ll stay if I tell him about you? About how we feel?” His mouth was so close to hers, but she didn’t take that opportunity he’d left open, not yet. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? He circled her nose with his, his breath warm on her face, and kissed her, briefly before turning away and going back to his search for guards. Moira stood still for a moment, Alistair’s boyish grin intruding on her stunned reverie. Maker, she thought. I’m going to lose both of them.
She followed Zevran, her heart heavy in her chest, but before she could catch up to her fellow elf, Shale rounded the corner at a run. “Moira!” She hissed, “Cullen’s found him!” The dwarf grabbed Moira’s wrist and hauled the taller woman behind her. When Moira reached the cell, Zevran was already there, working the lock. She handed him the keys, which he took, looked at them, then discarded them. She could see the logic in just picking the lock rather than trying to figure out which of the many keys on those rings belonged to this lock. Cullen stood over him, peering in through the bars. “He lifted me up to make sure. He’s been beaten badly, Moira,” Shale informed her. Moira could see Zevran’s shoulders tighten at the news.
The elf mage looked down at the dwarf, her blue eyes wide. “How badly?”
“Well,” the dwarf looked away, “He’s not as pretty as he was.”
Moira couldn’t swallow around the lump in her throat, “Please, Zev, hurry.” Within seconds the door was unlocked and the four of them stood staring at the King of Ferelden. His arms were hung from too short chains bolted into the stone wall, his wrists abraded from the metal. His head lolled to one side, resting on his biceps away from the door. His blue tunic was in tatters and blood spattered. The eye closest to the door was swollen shut, and his lips were split. The cheekbone she could see was swollen and may have been broken. His long, strong legs lay weakly against the stone floor, one bent unnaturally. The smell was worse. They’d left him like this, chained like an animal. They’d left him without enough room to relieve himself nor had they come to treat his injuries. Were they just going to leave him to rot down here?
Zevran cursed in Antivan, breaking their stunned silence. In the same breath, Cullen shouted, “Stop!” and Moira yelled, “Wait!” and reached out to him to keep him from touching Alistair. The mage and the Templar had both seen signs of a glyph around Alistair, Moira didn’t recognize it, but she knew enough to know that touching Alistair at this point would be a bad idea.
But she was too late. Time slowed down as Zevran touched the shackles and the king’s arm and Moira put her hand on Zevran’s shoulder to pull him away. Then blackness enveloped her as she closed the circuit and both mage and assassin were dragged into unconsciousness.
Before Cullen could add himself to the chain of unconscious prisoner and would-be rescuers, Shale pushed him back. “Stop! Look at what happened!”
Morosely, Cullen sighed, “I know.” He closed his eyes and focused on the magical energy in the cell, willing it to dissipate. When he opened them, he looked down at Shale. “My Templar abilities can’t dispel this, whatever it is.”
Before Shale could answer, a whiney, Ferelden accented voice sounded from behind them, “C-Cullen?” With one movement, the Grey Warden recruit had his dagger out and had the man pinned to the wall opposite the cell, the blade to his skinny neck.
“Jowan! Why, by Andraste’s Arse, am I utterly unsurprised to see you here?” Cullen snarled.
Moira peered around the corner at the patrolling guards. Fortunately, they both had their backs to the small group as they walked down the narrow corridor. Zevran pushed past Moira and silently rushed the two guards. Before Moira could react, Zevran had become a blur of movement and was suddenly lowering both men to the ground silently. The mage rushed over to the assassin, but before she could ask, he whispered, “Both alive, as my Warden requested.”
“Thank you. Should we put them in one of these cells?” she asked.
“Let me relieve them of their keys, first, mi amora,” the assassin crouched down and yanked two large key rings from the guards’ belts. Shale opened one of the cells and Cullen and Zevran each dragged one of the guards into the small space and unceremoniously dropped them. Moira waded through the keys to find one that fit the lock, but the sound of boots on stone made her give up in frustration and cast a small cone of fire at the lock, melting it.
At Zevran’s rather disgusted look at the slagged metal, she shrugged, “What? They can take the door off to get to them.” Zevran just shook his head and moved forward to set up another ambush for the approaching guards. Moira hoped they wouldn’t have too many more to disable. Figuring out which cell Alistair was in was going to be difficult enough.
“We’ll deal with the guards, you start looking in cells, Cullen,” she told the ex-Templar. The taller man nodded and went back to the beginning of the hall to start peering in to the darkened interiors of the cells. Shale saw what he was attempting to do and yanked down one of the unlit torches and used Moira’s flame spell on her sword to light it and brought it to him.
By the time Moira had caught up to Zevran, though, he’d disabled another pair of guards and was dragging them into another cell. “You know, you should really let me help you with the fighting, Zevran.” She grabbed the feet of the remaining guard and started dragging him into the cell. When she dropped the guard’s feet, he was there in front of her, standing close. She resisted the urge to back up.
“I will not bring you to him harmed, mi amora. Whatever it is between us, I know you love him still. And he cannot live without you. I will not risk you so close to our goal.” He tucked a stray lock behind her pointed ear that had fallen out of her braid and into her eyes, then used that as an excuse to cup her jaw, his calloused hands gentle on her skin. “I’ve told you before, I am no cheat. I will be leaving when we are safely back in Denerim. I cannot watch you with him any longer, and I will not go behind his back.”
Moira swallowed, “What, you’ll stay if I tell him about you? About how we feel?” His mouth was so close to hers, but she didn’t take that opportunity he’d left open, not yet. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? He circled her nose with his, his breath warm on her face, and kissed her, briefly before turning away and going back to his search for guards. Moira stood still for a moment, Alistair’s boyish grin intruding on her stunned reverie. Maker, she thought. I’m going to lose both of them.
She followed Zevran, her heart heavy in her chest, but before she could catch up to her fellow elf, Shale rounded the corner at a run. “Moira!” She hissed, “Cullen’s found him!” The dwarf grabbed Moira’s wrist and hauled the taller woman behind her. When Moira reached the cell, Zevran was already there, working the lock. She handed him the keys, which he took, looked at them, then discarded them. She could see the logic in just picking the lock rather than trying to figure out which of the many keys on those rings belonged to this lock. Cullen stood over him, peering in through the bars. “He lifted me up to make sure. He’s been beaten badly, Moira,” Shale informed her. Moira could see Zevran’s shoulders tighten at the news.
The elf mage looked down at the dwarf, her blue eyes wide. “How badly?”
“Well,” the dwarf looked away, “He’s not as pretty as he was.”
Moira couldn’t swallow around the lump in her throat, “Please, Zev, hurry.” Within seconds the door was unlocked and the four of them stood staring at the King of Ferelden. His arms were hung from too short chains bolted into the stone wall, his wrists abraded from the metal. His head lolled to one side, resting on his biceps away from the door. His blue tunic was in tatters and blood spattered. The eye closest to the door was swollen shut, and his lips were split. The cheekbone she could see was swollen and may have been broken. His long, strong legs lay weakly against the stone floor, one bent unnaturally. The smell was worse. They’d left him like this, chained like an animal. They’d left him without enough room to relieve himself nor had they come to treat his injuries. Were they just going to leave him to rot down here?
Zevran cursed in Antivan, breaking their stunned silence. In the same breath, Cullen shouted, “Stop!” and Moira yelled, “Wait!” and reached out to him to keep him from touching Alistair. The mage and the Templar had both seen signs of a glyph around Alistair, Moira didn’t recognize it, but she knew enough to know that touching Alistair at this point would be a bad idea.
But she was too late. Time slowed down as Zevran touched the shackles and the king’s arm and Moira put her hand on Zevran’s shoulder to pull him away. Then blackness enveloped her as she closed the circuit and both mage and assassin were dragged into unconsciousness.
Before Cullen could add himself to the chain of unconscious prisoner and would-be rescuers, Shale pushed him back. “Stop! Look at what happened!”
Morosely, Cullen sighed, “I know.” He closed his eyes and focused on the magical energy in the cell, willing it to dissipate. When he opened them, he looked down at Shale. “My Templar abilities can’t dispel this, whatever it is.”
Before Shale could answer, a whiney, Ferelden accented voice sounded from behind them, “C-Cullen?” With one movement, the Grey Warden recruit had his dagger out and had the man pinned to the wall opposite the cell, the blade to his skinny neck.
“Jowan! Why, by Andraste’s Arse, am I utterly unsurprised to see you here?” Cullen snarled.
Oh poor Ali!!!
#384
Posté 31 mars 2010 - 06:33
MireliA
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Poor Alistair - and it might be poor Jowan too if Cullen has his way! 
#385
Posté 31 mars 2010 - 06:53
TanithAeyrs
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Only Cullen and Shale still up, I think the rescue just got a bit louder - so much for stealth.
#386
Posté 31 mars 2010 - 11:15
frostajulie
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Awesome update I can't wait for the next installment I am insanely curious to see what this is all about.
#387
Posté 02 avril 2010 - 11:16
Herr Uhl
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So, Jowan was behind it all along, manipulating the GW to his whim and planning to become king with Anora, thus ushering a revival of the Tevinter Imperium.
I knew he had it in him.
I knew he had it in him.
#388
Posté 05 avril 2010 - 03:25
Sialater
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Herr Uhl wrote...
So, Jowan was behind it all along, manipulating the GW to his whim and planning to become king with Anora, thus ushering a revival of the Tevinter Imperium.
I knew he had it in him.
Damn, you saw through the overall plot.
#389
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 06:51
Sialater
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Part 36
Moira opened her eyes, blinking into a blinding light. Her eyes focused and she instinctively threw herself to one side, dodging a hurlock’s axe. Alistair was there, suddenly, beating back the monster with his shield and sword. Stupidly, Moira froze for a moment, just watching him, drinking in the sight of him. Zevran was there, deflecting a sudden strike at her back.
“Wake up, my Warden!” Zevran shouted, ducking a mace. “Watch your handsome prince’s backside later!” She fired off a lightning bolt at the glenlocks surrounding Zevran, their number diminishing as several of them fell from her spell. She felt Morrigan’s spell take out the rest with a timely blast of frost.
Wait… she was on the top of Fort Drakon. How did she get here? The question bounced around in the back of her mind as she shattered a hurlock about to hit Alistair with a two handed sword. A memory of Lelianna fixing the catapults as they fought surfaced… she hadn’t brought Zevran to the top of the fort. What was he doing here, now? A massive shadow passed overhead and the loud sound of something heavy and clawed hitting stone reached Moira’s ears. Her blood ran cold. No. Impossible. That thing was dead. Its soul inhabiting Morrigan’s baby.
Alistair met her eyes over the pile of darkspawn corpses, then lifted his sword and ran toward the Archdemon. “Maker, no!” she cried out. Her heart leaped into her throat when Zevran finished off the last glenlock mobbing him and ran to catch up with Alistair.
Morrigan was suddenly there by her side, “They need us, Moira! Let’s go!” She grabbed Moira’s bare arm. Wait, I wore armor to this fight, not mage robes! The thought skittered across her mind, unreal. She ran to keep up with Morrigan, her pulse pounding around the lump in her throat.
Moira cried out as Zevran suddenly landed in a heap at her feet, motionless and limp. “Zevran! No!” She reached for the knowledge of how to bring him back from the Fade, the spell of Revival, but she couldn’t remember it. It was missing in her memory, it wasn’t as if she’d forgotten it, the knowledge was literally gone. She turned to Morrigan, “Help him! Please!”
The stern-faced woman turned to glare at her, her golden eyes glowing, “There’s no help for the dead, Moira. Alistair needs our help, now!”
The mage followed the apostate’s imperiously pointing finger and saw Alistair taking on the Archdemon on his own. He dodged its tail and one of its massive claws, but was struck by another. The dragon glowed red with the effect of a Curse of Mortality from Morrigan and Moira summoned the three spell combination of Storm of the Century. It was a move of desperation, since it might also harm Alistair, but with one of her loves dead, she was desperate to save the other.
The final spell exploded from her finger tips and the Archdemon roared its agony as frozen lighting played over its scaly hide, rending it from the inside out. Alistair launched himself at the thing’s head and finally shoved his sword through the joining of neck and head for the monster. Gracefully, he rode the thrashing, nearly dead dragon to the ground, hopping off and meeting Moira halfway. She could feel the thing’s agony as she had the first time she’d slain it. Wait… when had she slain it before?
She wanted to fling herself into his arms, sobbing in relief, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Wait. Let me. There is no need for you to die. This is MY duty. I should be the one to kill it.”
Oh, Maker, no, this can’t be happening! Aloud, her voice answered, far too calmly and without her permission, “Why would you sacrifice yourself, Alistair?”
He sighed, running a gory, gauntleted fist through his blood soaked hair, “I didn’t want to be king, but you convinced me I should be. And I want to be a good king. This right here, is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it really starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?”
Oh, no you don’t, you son of a ****, don’tyoudareleavemealone! “That’s not the only reason and you know it.” Why couldn’t she say what she wanted to say?
He nodded, “You’re right. I know how I feel about you. I won’t let you die, not when I can do something about it.”
“Wait! This is crazy!” Finally, she could say what she wanted to!
“This is the sanest thing I’ve ever done.” With two steps, he was crushing her against his chest, his mouth hungry on hers as if to burn her into his memory. She clung to him and he straightened up, pulling her off her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his short, blood spattered hair. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth and she tasted salt from his sweat and tears as he held on to her. She felt tears course down her cheeks, too, trembling with her terror and sorrow. He couldn’t be doing this. This wasn’t right! This wasn’t what happened! Wasn’t it? Was this the real thing, the other just a dream? She sobbed against his lips, crushing his mouth against hers.
He stood her on her own feet, leaning down to rest his cheek gently against hers, his stubble rough against her skin, her fingers still entwined in his hair. “You can’t leave me. Please, you can’t leave me,” Moira heard herself begging him.
Alistair cupped her face in his hands, and kissed the tears running down. “I will love you. Always.” He spun on his heel and yanking his heavy sword from behind his back, he ran at the thrashing, nearly-dead Archdemon and attacked it.
“Alistair, NO!” She tried to run to him, but Morrigan was hanging on to her, preventing her from running to the man she loved, her king, her brother.
Morrigan spun her around to look at her and slapped her. Moira stared up at her, startled. “If this isn’t supposed to be happening, then take control!”
“What are you talking about, Morrigan!” Morrigan’s face shifted oddly, as if she was fighting something.
“Save them, you idiot! I may not care about them, but you certainly do! Fix this, if it’s not real!” Morrigan’s fingers spasmed on Moira’s arms, leaving bruises on her pale skin.
Suddenly Morrigan was glaring down at her, “The fool finally made himself useful, I see.” The explosion from the sword impacting the Archdemon’s skull hit them, then, launching Moira into the air to land next to Zevran’s corpse. His sightless hazel eyes staring in her general direction were the last thing she saw before her head impacted the stone and she lost consciousness again.
Moira opened her eyes, blinking into a blinding light. Her eyes focused and she instinctively threw herself to one side, dodging a hurlock’s axe. Alistair was there, suddenly, beating back the monster with his shield and sword. Stupidly, Moira froze for a moment, just watching him, drinking in the sight of him. Zevran was there, deflecting a sudden strike at her back.
“Wake up, my Warden!” Zevran shouted, ducking a mace. “Watch your handsome prince’s backside later!” She fired off a lightning bolt at the glenlocks surrounding Zevran, their number diminishing as several of them fell from her spell. She felt Morrigan’s spell take out the rest with a timely blast of frost.
Wait… she was on the top of Fort Drakon. How did she get here? The question bounced around in the back of her mind as she shattered a hurlock about to hit Alistair with a two handed sword. A memory of Lelianna fixing the catapults as they fought surfaced… she hadn’t brought Zevran to the top of the fort. What was he doing here, now? A massive shadow passed overhead and the loud sound of something heavy and clawed hitting stone reached Moira’s ears. Her blood ran cold. No. Impossible. That thing was dead. Its soul inhabiting Morrigan’s baby.
Alistair met her eyes over the pile of darkspawn corpses, then lifted his sword and ran toward the Archdemon. “Maker, no!” she cried out. Her heart leaped into her throat when Zevran finished off the last glenlock mobbing him and ran to catch up with Alistair.
Morrigan was suddenly there by her side, “They need us, Moira! Let’s go!” She grabbed Moira’s bare arm. Wait, I wore armor to this fight, not mage robes! The thought skittered across her mind, unreal. She ran to keep up with Morrigan, her pulse pounding around the lump in her throat.
Moira cried out as Zevran suddenly landed in a heap at her feet, motionless and limp. “Zevran! No!” She reached for the knowledge of how to bring him back from the Fade, the spell of Revival, but she couldn’t remember it. It was missing in her memory, it wasn’t as if she’d forgotten it, the knowledge was literally gone. She turned to Morrigan, “Help him! Please!”
The stern-faced woman turned to glare at her, her golden eyes glowing, “There’s no help for the dead, Moira. Alistair needs our help, now!”
The mage followed the apostate’s imperiously pointing finger and saw Alistair taking on the Archdemon on his own. He dodged its tail and one of its massive claws, but was struck by another. The dragon glowed red with the effect of a Curse of Mortality from Morrigan and Moira summoned the three spell combination of Storm of the Century. It was a move of desperation, since it might also harm Alistair, but with one of her loves dead, she was desperate to save the other.
The final spell exploded from her finger tips and the Archdemon roared its agony as frozen lighting played over its scaly hide, rending it from the inside out. Alistair launched himself at the thing’s head and finally shoved his sword through the joining of neck and head for the monster. Gracefully, he rode the thrashing, nearly dead dragon to the ground, hopping off and meeting Moira halfway. She could feel the thing’s agony as she had the first time she’d slain it. Wait… when had she slain it before?
She wanted to fling herself into his arms, sobbing in relief, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Wait. Let me. There is no need for you to die. This is MY duty. I should be the one to kill it.”
Oh, Maker, no, this can’t be happening! Aloud, her voice answered, far too calmly and without her permission, “Why would you sacrifice yourself, Alistair?”
He sighed, running a gory, gauntleted fist through his blood soaked hair, “I didn’t want to be king, but you convinced me I should be. And I want to be a good king. This right here, is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it really starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?”
Oh, no you don’t, you son of a ****, don’tyoudareleavemealone! “That’s not the only reason and you know it.” Why couldn’t she say what she wanted to say?
He nodded, “You’re right. I know how I feel about you. I won’t let you die, not when I can do something about it.”
“Wait! This is crazy!” Finally, she could say what she wanted to!
“This is the sanest thing I’ve ever done.” With two steps, he was crushing her against his chest, his mouth hungry on hers as if to burn her into his memory. She clung to him and he straightened up, pulling her off her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his short, blood spattered hair. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth and she tasted salt from his sweat and tears as he held on to her. She felt tears course down her cheeks, too, trembling with her terror and sorrow. He couldn’t be doing this. This wasn’t right! This wasn’t what happened! Wasn’t it? Was this the real thing, the other just a dream? She sobbed against his lips, crushing his mouth against hers.
He stood her on her own feet, leaning down to rest his cheek gently against hers, his stubble rough against her skin, her fingers still entwined in his hair. “You can’t leave me. Please, you can’t leave me,” Moira heard herself begging him.
Alistair cupped her face in his hands, and kissed the tears running down. “I will love you. Always.” He spun on his heel and yanking his heavy sword from behind his back, he ran at the thrashing, nearly-dead Archdemon and attacked it.
“Alistair, NO!” She tried to run to him, but Morrigan was hanging on to her, preventing her from running to the man she loved, her king, her brother.
Morrigan spun her around to look at her and slapped her. Moira stared up at her, startled. “If this isn’t supposed to be happening, then take control!”
“What are you talking about, Morrigan!” Morrigan’s face shifted oddly, as if she was fighting something.
“Save them, you idiot! I may not care about them, but you certainly do! Fix this, if it’s not real!” Morrigan’s fingers spasmed on Moira’s arms, leaving bruises on her pale skin.
Suddenly Morrigan was glaring down at her, “The fool finally made himself useful, I see.” The explosion from the sword impacting the Archdemon’s skull hit them, then, launching Moira into the air to land next to Zevran’s corpse. His sightless hazel eyes staring in her general direction were the last thing she saw before her head impacted the stone and she lost consciousness again.
Modifié par Sialater, 07 avril 2010 - 06:53 .
#390
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 07:05
Herr Uhl
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Jowan kicks their collective asses with his BM mojo, go Jowan!
Edit: Me guesses the GW recreate the scenario in the fade or somesuch to find out what really happened. Amirite?
Edit: Me guesses the GW recreate the scenario in the fade or somesuch to find out what really happened. Amirite?
Modifié par Herr Uhl, 07 avril 2010 - 07:14 .
#391
Posté 07 avril 2010 - 11:28
TanithAeyrs
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Another cliffhanger Sialater, cruel, cruel, cruel. Your poor warden is going to need therapy when you are done with her.
#392
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 01:34
Sialater
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TanithAeyrs wrote...
Another cliffhanger Sialater, cruel, cruel, cruel. Your poor warden is going to need therapy when you are done with her.
I did mention this was based on a nightmare I had, right?
#393
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 01:42
Herr Uhl
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Sialater wrote...
TanithAeyrs wrote...
Another cliffhanger Sialater, cruel, cruel, cruel. Your poor warden is going to need therapy when you are done with her.
I did mention this was based on a nightmare I had, right?
I did at least *is proud*.
#394
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 03:36
TanithAeyrs
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Definitely a nightmare if Zev is dead. If he is alive when she wakes up I am sure he will offer her some kind of "therapy." I am looking forward to your next chapter - I can't wait to see how you are going to get them out of this one, and no 'rocks fall everyone dies' is not acceptable - Obsidian already did that one.
#395
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 02:46
Sialater
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TanithAeyrs wrote...
Definitely a nightmare if Zev is dead. If he is alive when she wakes up I am sure he will offer her some kind of "therapy." I am looking forward to your next chapter - I can't wait to see how you are going to get them out of this one, and no 'rocks fall everyone dies' is not acceptable - Obsidian already did that one.
I strive to outdo Obsidian in my literary efforts.
Fortunately, this is not difficult.
#396
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 02:46
Sialater
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Herr Uhl wrote...
Sialater wrote...
TanithAeyrs wrote...
Another cliffhanger Sialater, cruel, cruel, cruel. Your poor warden is going to need therapy when you are done with her.
I did mention this was based on a nightmare I had, right?
I did at least *is proud*.
And this cruelty is all your fault.
#397
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 02:52
Jashanti
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- 10 messages
#398
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 03:00
Durmir
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DO NOT CLICK Jashanti link, for everyone's sake.
#399
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 03:04
amethyst_rose2009
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Sia's story deserves better than spammers attacking it. [smilie]../../../images/forum/emoticons/angry.png[/smilie] There are appropriate threads for that in the off-topic section.
Modifié par amethyst_rose2009, 08 avril 2010 - 06:46 .
#400
Posté 08 avril 2010 - 03:11
Sialater
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Jashanti wrote...
Please everyone who sees this click on it
http://social.bioware.com/brc/1720569
Wow, this is wonderful. What a dick. Thanks so much for hijacking something I've spent months writing to **** your attempt at garnering tokens. Highly appreciated, you troll.
