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[berelinde]

Beldin crouched by the nearest body, that of the mage. Thin tendrils of mist snaked through the air as the frost that envelloped her chilled the surrounding air. She had no weapons tucked into her belt as captured weapons would have been, but he took the dagger from the scabbard at her side. The probability that she happened to have a sheath with the exact dimensions of one of Bartha's blades was low, but it would hurt nothing if he brought it over for examination.

 

He moved on to the next, the man who had almost killed him. Both of him. He had never seen the insides of a man from this angle, and he was very sure he did not want to see them again. Whatever had done for Ser Axe, he was also quite certain he did not want to be on their bad side. He swiftly decided that if Ser Axe had Bartha's weapons, he could keep on having them, because from what he could see, there wasn't enough left of him to conceal his spleen, let alone a pair of daggers.

 

The next was a swordsman, he did not know which. He was fairly certain that Bartha never used a longsword, but he took it anyway in case she decided to try.

 

The last, where Sarel stood, had a fine collection of weapons. In addition to the longsword, he had a tiny blade in nearly every fold of his clothing from his cap to his boots, but Beldin took them all, tucking them into his tunic through the rent Ser Axe's weapon left and leaving them to settle around his midsection in a phenomenally ill-advised jingle of cutlery.

 

He returned to the chest, spread the dead mage's cloak out on the ground, and began to divest himself of weapons, arranging them according to size and weight before standing in the middle of the cloak and unbuckling his belt. Stilettos and pocketknives dropped in a tinkling shower of mayhem. He refastened his belt and retreated to lean against the windmill wall.

[obsessedwjpn]

Mercuriel was mesmerized by the way Beldin moved quickly about the field, grabbing everything useful in sight, then laying it out and arranging it neatly on the ground. The man certainly knew his weaponry and had a rather interesting obsession with orderliness. He approved.

 

Mercuriel looked at Tessa, "It looks like Beldin's done the work for all of us. Does that mean I should fix my hair now?" He raised his hands to cup his long flowing locks and began to make a ponytail. "Since I didn't get the time to before, as you so aptly pointed out."

 

He grinned from ear to ear. He loved trading wordplay with Tessa. Her comment from earlier didn't go unnoticed though. She'd complimented his fighting in the battle.

 

His grin faded a bit, replaced by a more serious expression. "Tessa..."

 

His gaze locked with hers and his eyes focused until only she remained in his sight. He took one step forward then another until he was standing just a foot or so from her.

 

"Now that you've remarked on my fighting ability, how about you find out about my other physical abilities?" His smile returned and he winked at her playfully before stepping back so as to avoid any repercussions. The wind carried his soft laughter over the cold and gruesome battlefield.

[obsessedwjpn]

Mercuriel decided that he would give Tessa a moment to respond to his wit. He went in search of the daggers that Tessa had mentioned. Apparently they belonged to a member of their party that Mercuriel had yet to speak with at all. He looked across the battlefield and noticed the dwarf fussing around in search of her items.

 

What was her name again? Ah, yes, Bartha. Laurelin had mentioned her earlier. She seemed to be a friend to many of the group members and yet Mercuriel and her had not shared one word so far. He felt a bit of regret that the two hadn't been introduced as of yet. Here they were, traveling together, yet barely acknowledged one another's existence.

 

He made his way to Bartha, taking long strides so as to cover the distance quickly. As he got closer, he could see how focused she was in her search. He wondered if he might even scare her if he just started talking all of a sudden.

 

He cleared his throat. "I was requested to aid you in the search of a pair of daggers, my lady." He smiled at her to further ease any awkward tension there may be because of this being their first conversation. "If it helps any, I frequently lose things in my possession due to the acts of others." He chuckled a bit, "Although, the "others" i speak of are strictly of the female gender and often in response to my quick departure." 

 

He looked wistful for a moment then sighed. "You don't, perchance, have any missing unmentionables along with those daggers of yours?" 

[Mahumia]

Bartha jumped up when she suddenly heard someone talking right behind her. Her startled look quickly diminished though when she noticed who it was. "Ah, Mercuriel was it, right? Thanks for helping. Actually I mostly care about having my backpack returned to me, but my daggers should be around here somewhere too." She glanced at the broken bodies in the distance. "I just hope that they weren't in the possession one of their friends who got away." She grinned at Mercuriel. "And I guess they wanted to be sure I didn't depart quickly when they knocked me on the head... but if you are afraid of finding any unmentionables... please don't open the bag, if you find it, as it holds my possessions." 

[mysteriouspast]

While Rael was going through the pockets of the dead bandits for valuables, Beldin was doing the same. Though, what he considered valuable differed slightly. He'd assembled his findings on a pilfered cloak and Rael walked up to him and stood beside him, surveying the array of blades that lay before them.

 

Silently, she crouched down and added the coppers and ring she had found. It didn't seem right to squirrel it away, especially considering how she'd avoided injury, unlike the large man next to her. Rael looked back over her shoulder at the bodies strewn about and noted with some nausea that she'd felled some of them, though not completely on her own. She'd never even shot at a live target before the Fuldor place, but killing actual people--as opposed to wolves--was a foreign concept to her.

 

The worst part was, she didn't even feel bad about it. The thugs had attacked first, beat her friend. So why should she feel guilty? She looked up at Beldin, who was scrutinizing his findings. "What do we do with all of this?" she asked quietly.

[BFace]

As Mercuriel stepped away from Tessa and walked over to Bartha, she thought absently, ‘One of these days he’s going to do that and I’m just going to lean over and lick his nose. Unless that’s some sort of Dalish mating thing. I should ask Laurelin.’  She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it as Beldin came up with an amazing array of weaponry.

 

When he undid his belt and small knives showered the ground from his tunic, Tessa rubbed the bridge of her nose with her forefinger.  She’d seen this before, a few times. The point at which a fighter had absolutely nothing left but instinct.  The best cure was sleep, Tess only hoped he could get himself down the hill-he was a pretty big man.

 

As he trudged over to lean against the side of the mill, Tess turned her attention to Rael.  Tess followed the elven woman’s look over the carnage, then drew her gaze back to Rael. She looked very young right now and Tess wondered if she’d ever seen anything like this before, let alone taken part.

 

"What do we do with all of this?"

 

“Well, Rael, we take it with us and sort it all out back at Warden Tarl’s place. Maybe some folks can get use of the weapons.” She gave one last look over the field of the fallen before looking down at the smaller woman, her expression sympathetic. “You did very well, Rael. I think we’ve all maybe earned a hot bath and some sleep.”

 

She looked down at the chest and the array of things. “I can carry the chest, would you be willing to carry some of…of the rest? Maybe see if Mercuriel will help? I can’t be the only one ready to get off this Maker-forsaken hill.” 

[berelinde]

Bartha finds her backpack. Tom was guarding it by lying on top of it.

[Mahumia]

Bartha threw a bag to the side, clearly frustrated. "Seriously, did those guys have nothing better to do than hide my stuff? 'Oh, let's just forget about our chest and play hide-and-seek with some dwarf her belongings instead'... bloody nughumpers...." She looked at Mercuriel. "So, if your ladies hide your stuff... where do they hide it? Maybe they teached these guys some tricks"

 

She turned around and nearly tripped over the dead man, who obviously hadn't moved in the meantime. "Even dead he is trying to knock me off my feet... brilliant." She hadn't noticed before, but now she saw that his back was slightly lifted from the floor. "Wait a minute..." Bartha knelt down and pushed the man on his side. From beneath his back, she recovered her backpack. As she opened it to check the contents, she shook her head. "I can't believe it... dying isn't enough to keep people from trying to play tricks, is it?" Satisfied that everything was still there, she held the bag to her chest, embracing it. "Finally reunited." She smiled at Mercuriel. "Shall we see whether the rest might have found the weapons in the meanwhile?"

[berelinde]

Tom offered no comment.

[Lorien19]

Laurelin's brow furrowed in confusion,when she noticed that Mercuriel was actually flirting with Tessa.
One moment he was holding her hand and the other he was a face to face conversation with another woman,but most importantly in a flirtatious manner.
Jealousy,was probably the right word to describe what she was feeling at the moment.
She shooked her head thinking what a fool she'd been.Creators,what was wrong with her it wasn't like he was her mate to begin with, why was her judgment clouded so easily...She had a mission,that as soon as it was completed she'd have to leave anyway.
However,it was one of the few times were her emotions got in the way her usually cool demeanor didn't remain like that for too long.

Clenching her fists she turned towards the opposite direction, having little interest for the loot they found.
Suddenly,her raven appeared out of what seemed to be thin air and gracefuly landed on her shoulder,for a scavenger he definitely didn't pay much attention to the dead bodies that surrounded them.
"Look who's here..."She said sarcastically and caressed it's lustrous feathers.

[mysteriouspast]

 

“Well, Rael, we take it with us and sort it all out back at Warden Tarl’s place. Maybe some folks can get use of the weapons.” She gave one last look over the field of the fallen before looking down at the smaller woman, her expression sympathetic. “You did very well, Rael. I think we’ve all maybe earned a hot bath and some sleep.”

 

She looked down at the chest and the array of things. “I can carry the chest, would you be willing to carry some of…of the rest? Maybe see if Mercuriel will help? I can’t be the only one ready to get off this Maker-forsaken hill.” 

 

Rael nodded mutely, unaware that Tessa had complimented her. She'd remained on the periphery of the fight, as she had the last time, and avoided injury again. Meanwhile, Tessa, Beldin and Mercuriel had rushed in and taken the brunt of the arrows and blades. "It was you that was bravest," Rael countered. "You and Mercuriel, and Beldin," she looked to Beldin who moved like a man asleep. "While he was still standing, at any rate," she added.

 

Tessa continued, indicating the weapons strewn on the ground in a surprisingly orderly manner. Bringing the weapons to Tarl certainly made more sense than leaving them to rust in the grass. She picked up a dagger that was shockingly sharp and began cutting wide strips from the cloth, wrapping a naked blade in each piece until it was fit for packing away and wouldn't cut through a pack.

 

When she was finished, she called towards Mercuriel: "Serah, if you could please help me carry these?"

[berelinde]

Beldin had been resting against the wall. He was long past the point where he could even relate to current events, let alone their implications. He wandered around the periphery, poking in holes and scanning the horizon for dangers he would never hope to see, but it made him feel useful, so it was not a total loss. He was not unaware of the problem. He was over-extended, burned out, numb. A good night's sleep would set him to rights, but that was not to be.

 

He stopped in front of the place where Sarel once stood... but it was Sarel no longer. Etienne had been diligent in keeping the mage alive during combat, but combat was over and Sarel, left to his own devices. And the mage was not bereft of healing skills, or so he'd been led to believe. Etienne believed him capable of such. But there Sarel stood, or what had once been Sarel. At the moment, he was no more than a frozen sculpture in elven form, shedding icy wisps of frost into the night. His expression was frozen forever in an arrogant sneer... or at least until the thaw, when the Maker would return all to a more natural state of decay. Fen'Harel sniffed his former master's boots once and loped off toward the village, his tail high and wagging.

 

Beldin paused in front of what had once been Sarel and touched the icy chin before touching his own, his expression perplexed. His hands fell to his sides, but he did not make a sound. Instead, he flipped Sarel's cloak over its owner's face and moved on, searching the ground for spent arrows.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Belatedly, Tempest  noticed they were short one party member. She glanced around, and saw Beldin covering a body... and realized it was one of their companions.

 

There wasn't as much emotion in that realization as she would have expected. It was a sad thing, certainly, and she felt a stab of guilt and regret that her healing spell had not been enough to save him.

 

The truth was, though, Sarel was essentially a stranger to her. She'd never had a real conversation with him, and in fact the two had barely even addressed one another in passing. Tempest had always sensed a faint hostility from him toward the humans in the party, and though she certainly hadn't blamed him - humans as a group had given elves a great deal to be hostile about - it had prevented a close bond from forming.  

 

Yes, it was sad that Sarel had died. But for Tempest, it was not much different than hearing of the death of someone she had never met - unfortunate, but not devastating - because she had not really known him.

 

Tempest briefly bowed her head and prayed, "Maker, receive his soul and grant him peace at Your side."

[Lorien19]

Harel was unusually restless,he started to peck Laurelin's cheek,and spreading his wings,like he was trying to fly and he eventually did.
To Laurelin's surprise he was circling around what appeared to be a frozen body,before landing back on her shoulder.
She took about closer step to inspect, and covered her mouth in shock when she realized who it was.
It was the redhaired elvhen mage,Sarel.

Laurelin didn’t know him well enough to call him a friend,but he was still one of her people.
She remembered all his enthusiasm about magic and how much he wanted to meet the Dalish,in fact she was thinking of taking him to her clan to meet the the keeper after it was all over.
She felt a hot tear running down her itchy cheek,that feeling of relief she felt when she thought that everyone was alive was now a feeling of guilt.
She hastily wiped her eyes and backed away from the body,when she heard Beldin's heavy footsteps.

[BFace]

When Rael called Mercuriel over to help her with the weaponry, Tessa looked around to do a head count and make sure everyone was ready to go.  She saw Beldin fussing with Sarel and it took her a couple of moments to understand what she was seeing.

 

Maker damn it.

 

Tessa picked up the chest and called out, “Let’s go, everyone. We need to get off this hill before anything else happens tonight.” 

 

She started walking as she tried to keep her expression neutral.  Tess felt a moment of regret that she did not save Sarel, followed directly by a surge of helpless anger because she knew that Sarel’s recklessness had caused his own death.

 

And damn near caused Beldin’s death. Tessa knew that Beldin drew attention to himself to draw it off Sarel and Tess would have done the same thing if she’d gotten there first. That didn’t mean, however, that it wasn’t damn reckless.

 

Everything about this night had been a study in recklessness and Tessa was ready for it to be over before anyone else died.

[obsessedwjpn]

Mercuriel was happy to see that Bartha had found her pack. He smiled at her then walked back over to Rael to assist her in carrying items back. While he gathered some of the weapons/items he noticed that Beldin and Laurelin had gathered around what looked to be a giant icicle. It was certainly cold out here on the hill but not enough to form something so large. He stepped in for a closer look and realized the icicle had a person inside of it: Sarel. The elf mage hadn't been in their party long. He joined about the same time that Mercuriel had and, even though Mercuriel hadn't known him well, they had shared a few moments of conversation. It was a reminder of the horrors that could take place on a battlefield. Mercuriel whistled for Dog and the two slowly started to make their way back to the Warden's place, hoping the others were in tow.

[berelinde]

Joint Post: Tempest and Beldin on the Road to Vintiver

 

Summary: Beldin starts to apologize for giving Tempest such a rough night, and she makes him have ALL THE FEELS.

 

Spoiler

Beldin lagged a little behind the others on the walk back to the village. The exercise of the battle had not cleared his head as it usually did... possibly because of the head shot he took earlier, or maybe because that bastard with the axe had come very close to cutting him in half... only to suffer the real thing himself. He was unsure whether Mercuriel or Tessa was responsible for that, but it had been quite the sight to wake up to. And then there was Tempest. He scarcely remembered what he dreamed as he lay dying, but he'd awakened clutching her hand and calling her "Mother." She might be a *little* older than him, but not more than a few years, if that. What a fine way he had of thanking her for saving his life. Again.

 

He lengthened his stride to catch up to her.

 

"Can we walk together for a moment?" he asked her.

 

"Of course, Beldin," Tempest replied with a smile. "What's on your mind?"

 

Shy as Tempest was with strangers, she was warm with her friends... and she considered Beldin a friend. They hadn't known each other long, but with all that had transpired in the brief time since they'd met, somehow it seemed longer, and she was certain Beldin was someone she could trust.

 

He fell into step with her, shortening his stride to match hers.

 

"I really put you through it tonight, Tempest," he said quietly. "Between my bull-headedness at the trial and that bit of folly up on the hill..."

 

He sighed.

 

"I want to promise you it won't happen again," he said. "The first part won't. But the second... it probably will. I'm going to try not to let it, and if the others do their part and wait for the enemy to engage before doing anything to draw their fire, I won't have to do anything heroic to keep them alive, but it may happen anyway."

 

The conversation was getting away from him.

 

"My point was, I wanted to apologize for being such a burden," he said. "And I wanted to thank you for using your gifts to save me from myself."

 

"Oh, Beldin," Tempest said softly, a faint sadness coming through in her voice. Sadness that a kind man thought so little of himself. Sadness at how he saw what had happened tonight. "You weren't a burden. I was worried for you, of course I was, but I never felt... not that, not at all. In fact, I owe you my thanks. You took a beating to protect me from accusations. Even when you knew you were gravely wounded, you fought on to defend us. And when you thought I was in danger, you rushed to my side. For all of that, I am deeply grateful. You are such a kind, courageous soul. At the trial I was afraid, but I think I understand. Throughout all of it, I thank the Maker that you are my friend. Your apology is thoughtful but unnecessary. I'm glad I could help, and I am thankful for what you did for me. For all of us. The care you have shown means more than I can say."

 

For so many years, Tempest had felt no caring from anyone. Now such gestures warmed her heart, even if they didn't turn out quite as intended.

 

It was too much. He tried to fight the raw emotion that welled up through him, but his reserves had run out before they even climbed the hill. He threw his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, shoulders heaving. Sobs racked him, but no tears came. He gulped air and stroked her hair, heedless that anyone should see.

 

"Sorry," he hiccuped once the first wave had passed. "So much... too much... You're too good for us, Tempest. You're too good."

 

He sniffed back the tears that still threatened and tried to pull himself together. So much had happened - the confrontation with Bartha, the trial, his reprieve from an inevitable death sentence, that mad impulsiveness of touching Tessa, dying, being healed yet again, and reliving the memory of a mother he lost to fever twenty years before - all in the space of two hours. He was spent, but he managed it.

 

Gently, reverently, he kissed her cheek.

 

"Thank you, Temepst," he said, "thank the Maker for you."

 

Ordinarily a sudden hug from a man would have frightened Tempest, but not now. Not after everything they had been through tonight, and not when he had completely broken down.

 

She wrapped her arms around Beldin, holding him as she would one of her children, and rubbed his back comfortingly. "It's alright," she told him. "It's alright." Her tone matched her posture in being decidedly maternal.

 

When Beldin had released Tempest from the embrace and kissed her cheek, she smiled at him. "I thank the Maker for you too, Beldin," she said. "I am fortunate to call you friend."

 

Beldin allowed her to withdraw. He was too overwhelmed to prevent it, even if he knew whether he wanted her to go or stay. He needed quiet and he needed bed, and neither was likely to happen anytime soon. But Tempest would understand. He kissed her hand and fell back in step with her. The walk to the manor would clear his head.

 

Tempest did understand. She could see that Beldin was both contemplative and exhausted, and she didn't feel the need to interrupt his reverie. She continued to walk with him in companionable silence, keeping him company but not pressing for conversation as they returned to the manor.

[Mahumia]

Bartha adjusted her backpack and followed Mercuriel out of the mill. At the door she paused to look one more time at the dead man. She hoped she could come to terms with the fact that it was her doing that ended his life. The remains of the massacre outside told her that she probably could... the others apparently had more experience with it.

She didn't notice the icicle until she stood right in front of it, but her heart practically missed a bit or two once she noticed that it was Sarel. They had only exchanged a short conversation, but nonetheless her heart dropped at the sight. The others started to move away, back towards Vintiver. It made her realize that there was nothing they could do for him anymore... not even Tempest or Etienne, for she was sure that they would have done everything they could to save the young mage. "Rest well, Sarel. And I'm sorry I could not help you." She bit her lip before turning around and fastening her pace to keep up with the departing group.

[mysteriouspast]

The party was leaving, finally. Rael fell into line as they somberly tread down the hill like a bizarre parade. She saw Mercuriel and Laurelin look over a strange mass that was covered with some sort of tarp. Curious, she lifted the covering to see a block of ice that bore the shape of Sarel. Startled, she dropped the fabric and looked around quickly, scanning the area for the mage whose disappearance she suddenly noticed.

 

He was gone. Gingerly lifting the cover again, she peered into the crystalline face of the elf she had known so briefly. She'd really only spoken to him once, but that was enough to leave a strong impression. He had seemed so wounded to her--mad, she believed at the time. Perhaps she'd been correct as he had made a suicidal charge at the start of battle. Maybe he'd wanted it this way all along.

 

"The Maker guide your troubled soul, friend," she whispered to the ice that could not hear her. "May your suffering be now at its end."

 

There was nothing more to say, so she covered him back up, and walked away, shaking her head sadly.

[mysteriouspast]

On the way back to the Warden's place, Rael and Bartha discuss the events precipitating the hilltop battle, and Bartha manages to inject some humor.

 

((No one bursts into tears... sorry!  ))

 

Spoiler

As everyone began the short journey back to the warden's house, Rael caught sight of Bartha, walking towards the middle of the group, looking pensive indeed. It suddenly occurred to her that the entire battle on the hill--and the near death of Beldin for the second time that night--had been caused by Bartha somehow. Beldin himself seemed to hold no ill will towards the dwarf, but that did nothing to assuage Rael's curiosity on how a quiet evening in the library morphed into a ferocious combat on a windy hilltop.

 

She slowed her pace until Bartha was near her side then said to her, testing the waters, "Bartha, you seemed in peril back there. Are you alright?"

 

Bartha looked up when she heard someone addressing her, getting disturbed from her thoughts. She noticed that Rael had joined her side. "Me in peril? Na, those idiots were just looking for a key..." Bartha stopped trying when she noticed that her usual sense of humor failed miserably. She looked at the ground before her. "Perhaps I was... guess I'm alright, as my screwing up didn't cost anyone of the group their lives... but I have no idea why you came after me. Or found me in the first place."

 

"You were kind enough to leave a note detailing your whereabouts, so you weren't too hard to locate." Rael replied with a good-natured smile. "And why wouldn't we come after you?" Rael clapped her hand on Bartha's shoulder affectionately. "Just because you were fool enough to run off alone, doesn't mean we were fool enough to let you."

 

Bartha sent Rael a shy smile. "It's a good thing not everyone is such a fool as I am, ey? Better be careful though, it might rub off."

 

Rael chuckled at Bartha's words, but then her expression went somber. "I have to ask," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice, "what would make you do such a thing--depart without saying a word to us?"

 

Her smiled faded quickly, replaced by an ashamed, sad expression. "Summarized: I panicked..." She looked up at Rael. "I was confused... Beldin had mentioned that I should speak to Tarl, and when I did, he did all of a sudden call for a trial..." She turned her head and looked at the ground again. "I realized I'd just dragged the lamb to the slaughter, and well, I couldn't bear the thought of watching Beldin call for his own death." She blinked rapidly. "I thought you'd all hate me, but instead you run after me and risk your own lives." She frowned, recalling how two crossbow bolts barely missed her, and felt her face go pale. Her voice was unsteady and soft. "Or maybe you did come to get revenge... please know that I do not plan to fight you, if you do."

 

"Revenge?" Rael asked, startled. "Had we wanted your harm, we'd not have fought to the death to defend you." She paused for a moment, hearing the harshness in her words that she hadn't intended. "No," she said in a gentler tone. "I only wish to understand what happened. Why you felt the need to go to Tarl instead of coming to us. I thought..." she pressed her lips together, her expression stormy. "I thought us friends, Bartha."

 

Bartha shrugged. "Perhaps I was just lucky to dodge your crosbow bolts." She sighed and shook her head when she realized that Raels words were true: if they had intended to confront her, they had already done so, and not let her return with them. Her voice softened: "I know it's not an excuse Rael, but... I wasn't thinking clearly. There was alcohol involved, and lots of emotions. As Tarl and Beldin seem to know each other for a longer time, I thought that he would be able to ease my mind... to confirm to me that it was all a misunderstanding and Beldin was indeed innocent. You know, it's confusing if someone one moment confesses a crime to you, and the next moment says he hasn't done it? I was scared... alone in some basement and with a bottle of wine in my stomach. If I had foreseen the consequences I would not have done this, even though it apparently turned out well." She couldn't bring up the courage to look at Rael, so she kept looking at the ground. "I understand if you can no longer trust me... Perhaps I tried to escape myself."

 

"I can imagine how alcohol might have...complicated things," Rael allowed. She'd been in enough taverns to know that reasonable people could lose their faculties in a hurry with the right concoctions in their bellies. Still, she could see the dwarf was tearing herself up and that didn't sit right with her. All Bartha had done when she'd heard of Beldin's supposed crime was ask for verification. Rael, on the other hand...

 

"Let me tell you something, Bartha. It may help assuage your guilt, or it may make you look at me even more sideways than you already are." She took a breath and considered how to begin. "You just learned of Beldin's conviction tonight." She looked over at Bartha with a chagrined expression. "Would you be surprised to learn I had known about it since the night we were at the Fuldor place?"

 

Bartha quickly turned her head towards Rael. "You did?" She stared at the elf incredulously. Her surprised look slowly turned into a frown, as her mind filled with heaps of questions and thoughts again. "But how...?" She shook her head and sighed. "Alright, maybe I don't want to know..." She pinched the bridge of her nose as images of an undressing Beldin haunted her mind. "On the other hand... it might finally cure me. I guess that the whole situation made being about exactly Beldin made it even harder... I'm an idiot Rael, and I should know better. If I hadn't let my hormones do the thinking, I wouldn't have upset him that much and therefore never had this whole escalation." She let out a groan. "And to think that I exactly wanted a drink to drown my self-pity after all the flirting and such at Fuldors..." Sideways glancing at Rael, she became aware that he was busy interrupting the elf in her story. "Sorry, what did you want to tell me?"

 

Rael tried to keep her eyes from growing too wide as Bartha unfurled a series of words and ideas, one more confusing than the next. Clearly she was lacking some context here. "I... I cannot speak to what transpired between you and Beldin," she said quickly. "What I can tell you is that I had a... misunderstanding with Beldin that night first night away from the Inn. Or, rather, we misunderstood each other."

 

She sighed and pushed back the blood-stained memories that crowded her thoughts. "He showed me his brand in a fit of anger, and I was afraid and cornered. He'd assumed I already knew about it, but of course I didn't, so I thought he meant to attack me. I drew my sword to defend myself and he ended up with it in his side." She brought her fist to her lips and managed to swallow down the nausea that the thought brought back to her. "It was an accident--he fell onto my sword. But the damage was done and if Etienne hadn't happened by, I think Beldin would have..." Rael trailed off, unable to finish the thought aloud.

 

Bartha reached out and put a hand on Rael’s shoulder. "I guess we both know how it feels, than? I didn't have my weapons with me, although at some point Beldin offered me his sword... I just wanted to flee, but I can totally understand your response." She gently squeezed. "I guess the man has an army of fade spirits looking after him, after all."

 

She leaned in towards Rael, and whispered: "And I'm glad to see things working out between you and Etienne... You have more luck with that than I have."

 

Rael smiled at Bartha's reassurances and said, "I merely wanted you to know that your action was perfectly understandable. Truly, he suffered more by me than he did by you." She looked over her shoulder to where Beldin walked, a free man. "Because of you, the stain of guilt no longer follows him. Whether it was your intention or not, you saved his life."

 

When Bartha made the comment about Etienne, Rael felt a blush spread across her face. "I...hm, yes, thank you--lucky, indeed," she managed, obviously flustered. "The future is always uncertain, but for now, I, er..." As the blush overtook her, she gave up on speaking and merely smiled to herself.

 

Bartha took a deep breath. She knew that the end result of her actions had been well, but it would probably take some time to shrug of the feeling of guilt anyway. But Rael was right: Beldin had finally managed to come to terms with the happenings at Amarantine, or at least appeared to be. A small smile formed on her lips, as she looked back and forth between Beldin, Tessa and Tempest. After what had happened at the cellar, it would indeed be best for everyone if she'd backed away. There was something in the air anyway, and only time would tell how things would turn out... But there was the pairing between Rael and Etienne, and Laurelin and Mercuriel... surely another one would flourish soon enough.

 

She looked at Rael, who was still all flustered. "Just do me a favor, and enjoy your time, alright?"

 

Rael's smile widened. "I shall do just that," she replied pleasantly. "And you must do *me* a favor and don't run off like that again!"

 

Bartha laughed: "Sounds like a fair favor... I'll do that. I assume that running of *with* someone is not included?"

 

Erupting into lighthearted laughter, Rael responded, "So long as you don't do it in the middle of the night!"

 

Bartha feinted a pout: "But that is exactly the most fun part..."

 

Rael threw her arm around Bartha's shoulder and said, "Oh, Bartha, you'll never be dull at least!"

[berelinde]

Game Post: Tarl's Gifts

 

Summary: Tarl opens his arsenal to you.

 

Tarl Dale was waiting for you when you returned, and opened the door to admit you even before you rang the bell. He ushered you into the courtroom - the only room in the manor big enough to contain all of you at once - and his servants put out food and bandaging supplies while he walked among you, clucking at your bloodstains and apparently surveying your gear.

 

"You folk are not good at self-preservation, I see," he said, smiling crookedly at the most injured among you. "Fortunately, it's within my power to help. The weapons that hang on the corridor walls are not wallflowers. They're valuable artifacts, gathered from across Thedas. Each is the work of a master, and all are dutifully preserved. Take what you will. I ask only that if you take a weapon and have a similar one on your person, please leave that in its place. Don't deprive yourself of needed gear, but the weapons are intended to protect Vintiver, and I'd like to keep some kind of arsenal here, should Vintiver itself fall under attack. But not you," he said, standing in front of Beldin. "I was a shield man myself, and I know what will serve you better. Pel, bring up the old mail from storage. It was never mine. The people of Vintiver have shrunk over the centuries as Ruswold blood mixed with that of the lowlanders. Logerwold blood is purer, so you'll get more use of it than I ever will."

 

He glanced at Laurelin, Etienne, and Tempest.

 

"I've no wish to exclude you from Vintiver's generosity," he said, "but I don't know how to serve you best. By all means, take a weapon if you find one that suits, but if you've no taste for that, I won't send you away empty handed. Some of the books in my library are ancient, and some were acquired from the Circle. If some of them might assist you with your research, I would not be able to tell you how, but you're very welcome to have a look. I'm sure you'll be able to spot the Tevene runes on the binding."

 

{Please note that Tarl is not excluding newcomers from this, so Fabian and Rhys may choose weapons or ammunition, too.}

[berelinde]

Game Post: Rhys's Arrival

 

Rhys stumbled, swearing profusely at the damned tree root that dared get in his way.  Damned forests were full of them.  After what he’d seen, Rhys wasn’t paying as much attention to where his feet trod as he should.  Some sneaky rogue you are, he thought, and laughed bitterly to himself.  

 

What were those things, those creatures?  And what sort of cursed fascination did they have with the elves?  He couldn’t make sense of it.  Of course, he hadn’t much time to ponder, heading with all haste as he was for the nearest town.  Was that light ahead?  Rhys picked up the pace and burst out of the trees onto the road in short order.  He breathed a deep sigh of what could be called relief but was really just an exhalation of manly fatigue, leaning on the quarterstaff he carried.  Finally, his head came up as his nostrils flared wide.  STEW!  He was starving!  He literally followed his nose into the common room of the inn.  Striding up to the bar, he took a wide stance and smiled roguishly at the bartender.

 

“Good man, do tell me there is an extra large bowl of stew for a hungry traveler?  I’m so ravenous I was considering gnawing on a tree branch mere minutes ago.”

 

"Aye, lad," the beefy barman said, reaching beneath the bar and putting a plate of bread and cheese in front of him. "Give me a mo to pull you a draught and my wife will bring it out to you in a moment. It's a bit late for travelers. Were you out on one of the farms?"

 

He set himself to pulling a foamy mug of ale, which he promptly set in front of the newcomer.

 

Rhys snagged a slice of bread and laid a piece of cheese on top of it before taking a large bite and swallowing it at a gulp.  He shook his head at the bartender’s question.

 

“Nay, I was with a hired company.  We were encamped in the woods but things went badly.”  Rhys’ eyes grew haunted and his expression serious.  “Very badly indeed,” he said softly, as an afterthought.    

 

"Maker help you," the bartender said, shaking his head. "We've had a taste of it here, even inside the village: gutted dead, horrors beyond counting. Thank the Maker you made it this far. I only wish I could say you were out of danger. There's stout lads and lasses here and we'll hold 'em if we have to, but it's bedlam beyond the walls. Did you get a look at that bastards?"

 

“Barely,” Rhys replied.  He tore into another slice of bread with cheese.  “It was dark, the fire burning bright in the clearing and everyone around it sleeping.  I’d gone to answer the calling of nature, if you take my meaning, and as I returned I saw them.  Looked like knives for hands.  Pointy little faces, floppy ears.  That’s about all I could make out in the confusion.  They were quick, damn quick. Moved like the wind.  A whole huge group of them.  Took out my companions in no time and me standing there jaw agape like some inexperienced boy child.”  Rhys put his head in his hands and his voice grew ragged.  “I didn’t even try to save any of them.  It was over that fast.  Sixteen dead mercenaries and me standing there with my breeches undone.”

 

The barman made a sound of both horror and sympathy, shaking his head.

 

Rhys raised his head and shook himself before glancing at the bartender again.  “I don’t suppose you would have a room for the night?  I’m not sure I could face a bedroll in the trees right now.”

 

He shook his head sadly. “Filled to the rafters here, I’m ‘fraid. The Warden, though, Tarl Dale, lets folk stay at his place just across there.  Don’t waste your time knockin’ though. Just walk on in and ring the bell in the first room and someone’ll see to you.”

 

Rhys thanked the beefy bartender for the information and his wife for the stew when it arrived and settled down to eat, washing everything down with the tankard of beer.  It was so good he ordered a second tankard, and a third after that, but it was late and he was tired so three was his limit.

 

Rhys left the Arbor considerably less hungry and tipsy from the beer.  Damn fine beer.  And stew.  Beer and stew.  Beer stew.  That could be a thing, he thought, someone should put that together.  Excellent combination, beer and stew.  He blinked a couple of times before he realized that he was at the door of house the largely friendly bartender had indicated.  He raised his hand to knock and remembered just in time that he was supposed to walk right in.  These lowlanders had strange ideas about privacy.  

 

Rhys opened the door, hanging on the handle when his feet weren’t quite fast enough to stay under him.  The quarterstaff in his other hand banged against his shin as he tried to keep his balance and he was left leaning precariously forward on one leg, his face a study in annoyed befuddlement.  After a moment he convinced his feet to get back in line and peered around the anteroom, blinking owlishly.  A bell.  That rang.  Rang a bell in his head.  Hah!  Rhys grinned wide and rang the bell.

 

After only a few moments an older man entered the room. “Can I help you?” he asked politely.

 

Rhys smiled widely and performed a rather off-balanced but deep bow.  “I was told there might be a room here for a weary traveler, good sir,” he said, speaking to his own knees.

 

The man nodded. “Come with me then, I’ll take you to Warden Tarl.” 

 

He then lead Rhys into a hallway and opened a door on the left side, indicating that Rhys should go in.

 

Inside the room was Tarl Dale, but also a group of people around a chest on a table.

 

Rhys blinked and rubbed a hand over his eyes before opening them wide again.  He recognized that backside!  The hair!  The legs!  The sword.  He threw his arms open wide, smiling hugely and drunkenly.  “Imhar plays with me, I think, for it cannot be the loveliest runaway bride in Ferelden!  Be still my heart!”

 

Tessa was watching Fabian dismantle the chest she’d hauled off that hill when a voice behind her caused her heart to stop. By the time he’d said the words “runaway bride” however, it was galloping full speed. Very slowly she turned around and said calmly, “Shut your Maker damned mouth, Rhys ar Eirlys o Greenhold. Shut it right now.” 

 

Rhys took on a comically crestfallen look and lowered his arms.  The quarterstaff smacked him in the shins again and he winced.  “Oh Tessa, you know it’s almost impossible for me to do that unless my life depends on it.”

 

Tess narrowed her grey eyes and tried not to smirk. Maker, what was he doing here? “It might, if you keep talking. Who’s with you?”  

 

Rhys planted the capped end of the quarterstaff firmly on the floor and held on with both hands.  The floor seemed exceedingly unlevel.  He closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to remain upright, praying silently to the Mountain-Father for strength of mind and spine.  “Not a soul, beauty.  Poor Rhys travels alone through forests full of hostile roots bent on tripping him mercilessly only to find stew and beer and no rooms to sleep in and now here he is surprised and overjoyed and not followed by abandoned grooms at all.  Promise.”

 

“Stop it. It wasn’t like that and you know it. Stop. It.” Tess knew that the entire group had to be watching in fascination, so she kept her back to them. “Maker’s breath Rhys, what’s happened?”

 

“Creatures.  Floppy ears.  Knives for hands.  Pointy skinny faces.  So fast.  So damned fast, Tessa.”  He swayed on his feet.  “I couldn’t save them, any of them.  It was over before I could blink.  They’re all dead and it’s just me now.  Guess I’m not getting paid.”  He laughed hollowly.

 

{Joint post by Kerridwynn, BrambleFace, and berelinde}

[Mahumia]

Bartha was a bit reluctant to enter the house again. She avoided eye contact with Tarl, convinced that he would scold her for her previous actions. Much to her surprise,he did not seem to have any repercussions intended. On the contrary: he looked after their wounds and offered them access to his weaponry.

 

She had considered her bruises and cut lip inferior to the wounds some of the others had, and therefore declined the offer of medical care for now.

 

The smell of food had been too much to resist though, as her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten for quite some time. She paused from working down the bowl of stew she had laid her hands on when some unknown person came into the room and started to make a scene with Tessa. She had seriously no idea what it was all about, but it was clear enough to her that the man was drunk and he and Tessa knew each other. Her food became a whole less attractive when the man finished his story though. In an attempt to make things a little less awkward she still did her best to be very interested by her food, as if not paying attention the whole scene at all. At first she intended to decline Tarls offer of getting new weapons, as she felt herself unworthy after being such a bad host. However, the tale of the newcomer made her second guess that... Perhaps he would accept coin in exchange?

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest blushed and stared at the floor when Tarl commented about their self-preservation skills. It was a healer's job to keep the fighters on their feet, and in this fight Tempest had done rather poorly at that given how things had turned out.

 

Well, she told herself, If you're embarrassed by your performance, do better next time. It's really as simple as that.

 

Bolstered by this resolve, her head lifted, and she was startled by the warden's generosity to virtual strangers.

 

"Thank you, Warden," she said. "Your offer is most kind. I will certainly have a look at the library and see if there is something that can assist us."

 

Surely there would be nothing dangerous in a noble's library. Nothing to summon demons. Nothing about blood magic. Even so, Tempest would be cautious.

 

"I also wondered if... if I might... there's a book from your library I was reading. A book of sermons by a lesser-known Divine, a volume I had not seen before. I wondered if I might borrow it to finish? I promise you I would return it in good condition. Only if it would not be an inconvenience, of course."

 

Tempest knew she was asking a lot - texts of almost any sort were valuable - but Tarl had trusted her to heal his love, so it didn't seem unreasonable that he might trust her to return one of his books in good shape, and he had plenty of others to read. 

 

The arrival of another newcomer... Rhys, based on how Tessa addressed him... attracted Tempest's attention, and her eyes were full of concern as she listened to his story and ran her gaze over him to check for injuries.

[berelinde]

"Of course," Tarl said in response to Tempest's question. "You may borrow any book you like."