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[Mahumia]

Bartha looked up surprised when she noticed that Laurelin was quickly making her way over to her.

 

"Thanks for the water Bartha,you are a gem!"she said to the dwarven woman and gave her a peck on the cheek.

 

With a confused look she followed the woman with her gaze as she made her way to the upper floor. 'Water? What.... Oh... the bath!' When she got it, she smirked and called after Laurelin: "You're welcome!"

 

Not sure whether or not she had heard something from the other side of the door, she carefully opened the door to the bedroom and looked around the corner. She noticed that Tempest was sitting next to the bed, and the Dalish woman appeared to be sleeping. "Tempest? Do you want something to eat?" Her voice was soft, as she tried to not disturb the sleeping woman.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

"Come in!" Tempest called, but kept her voice volume low to avoid disturbing Eshara, so she wasn't sure if the person who knocked had heard her.

 

She smiled when Bartha entered and offered her something to eat.

 

"Yes please," she said. "That would be kind of you. Maybe there's something that would be suitable for Eshara, too?"

 

Tempest knew it might be difficult for the Dalish woman to take solid food, since she was still ill, but Eshara would still need nourishment before long to keep up her strength.

[Brian ofthe Dialogue Wheel]

Sarel was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room when the Dalish man called him over. He whistled for Fen'Harel to join him. As Sarel sat down, the mabari hopped around Dog and his food. Sarel emptied out a fair helping of dried meat into a bowl he kept for feed Fen'Harel (and mixing non-potable medicines) along with the dregs of his own soup. An elf- a city elf, this time, stood up and started playing songs. She was quite good, and her songs were of heroism and adventure and- Sarel noted- forbidden love. The way she sang the song, made him wonder. She was looking pointedly away from Etienne and- Oh gods no. Etienne didn't want to wear the traveling clothes Sarel offered, almost as if he wanted to show off in his robes to someone, and he was very polite, and he always seemed to preen himself when Sarel was around. Gods, is she trying to butter me up for Etienne? When the song was drawing to a close, he began to panic. Etienne Once Rael's singing was finished, he looked over at Mercuriel; the elf and been a little short with him earlier, but HAD offered him a seat, and seemed to have been distracted by the -admittedly lovely- Laurelin, so maybe he was more social than it appeared. "You look well traveled, Ser. What part of the country do you come from? Or is your clan from the West?"

[berelinde]

Plot Post: Eshara's Tale

 

Summary: Eshara explains the bad blood between Vintiver and the Dalish, describes how it drove one of her clan to madness, and tells the party about everything that happened since. Harellan, a Dalish craftsman, drank too much and picked a fight with Coalan, the village blacksmith. It turned into an all-out brawl in which one of the Dalish died, although everyone agrees that the hunter fell to Harellan's drunken rage, not at the hand of a human. Keeper Orellis made Harellan apologize, which the latter resented deeply. Eshara fears that Harellan may have wandered too far in his flight from his inner demons and released the ancient, real life demon caged in some ruins several days' journey away from Vintiver. She will draw a map. Her clan was captured not long after. She hopes they are still alive, and begs you to go after them.

 

Behind spoiler tags for length, but please read if you can, as it contains details about the camp, about the artifact you found, and more info you might need.

 

Spoiler

Thanks to the diligent attention of Tempest, Etienne, and Sarel, and thanks to the miracle of a good night's sleep, Eshara's fever breaks just as dawn lights the eastern windows of the farmhouse. She stirs and asks for water. By mid-morning, her condition is markedly improved, and she is well enough to cast spells of her own to speed the healing. She is First to Keeper Orellis, after all, and she has magic of her own, even if she is only just now strong enough to use it.

 

She is not quite able to navigate the stairs, but Tempest and Laurelin bring her water and help her bathe in the bedroom. Once she is clean and dressed in fresh clothes borrowed from among those the farmers left behind, she summons the party into the bedroom so that she only has to tell her story once. She is still abed, but she sits unassisted, and her cheeks are pink with returning health.

 

"Thank you all for rescuing me," she begins. "I thank the Creators that you were the ones who found me, and that you had the presence of mind to bring me here. Clan Eladiel - if we can save them - stands in your debt."

 

She smooths the blankets across her lap and goes on, "I am Eshara, First to Keeper Orellis. Clan Eladiel fell under attack by... monsters... a week ago, and I've been trying to reach Vintiver ever since. My healers tell me that the village no longer welcomes the Dalish, and that saddens me, but I believe that once you hear my story, you may understand that the news is not unexpected. My clan and the village have been on friendly terms for generations, and I hope that we may soon become friends once again, but for now, an evil festers, and I fear it will spread if we do not check it now."

 

She glanced in Rael's direction with what looked like recognition.

 

"I remember you from the Harvest Fair," she said. "You sang very sweetly. My clan sisters were humming your melodies for days. You will remember the conflict that threatened my clan's alliance with Vintiver, and you'll remember our hasty departure, but the rest of you may not."

 

She drank from the cup Tempest offered her before continuing.

 

"Unlike many of the clans of the Brecilian Forest, Clan Eladiel is not self-reliant," she said. "We make bows and knives, and trade them in Vintiver for grain and produce at the annual harvest festival. It is a time of great merriment for both peoples, and we look forward to it all year. The village always welcomes us among them, and they are generous in trade and in hospitality. But this year, we had a disagreement. The braggart Harellan, fueled by wine and an intemperate estimation of his own skill, struck up an argument with the blacksmith, boasting that one knife of his was worth ten of the human's make. The blacksmith grew angry, saying that he was forbidden by the village council to show his best wares during the fair lest he take custom away from us. It grew heated very quickly, and Harellan threw himself at the blacksmith. Both men were unarmed, thank the Creators, but others joined in, and it took Keeper Orellis and the village warden, Tarl Dale, to restore peace. When it was over, one of our hunters lay dead. The blacksmith claimed that it was Harellan who slew the man. Harellan denied it, but he was reeling with drink and with rage, and even his own clansmen said that he attacked friend and foe alike with equal ferocity."

 

She closed her eyes, but only for a moment.

 

"Neither Tarl Dale nor the blacksmith demanded an apology," she said, "but Keeper Orellis believed it was owed, for breaking our truce and for sowing discord. Harellan complied, but he became even more surly than usual and took to muttering to himself and threatening vengeance upon all who had shamed him. The Keeper assigned him double duty as a hunter in hopes that time alone in the woods would cool his anger, but he disappeared three days after we left Vintiver, and we have not seen him since."

 

She took another sip of water.

 

"There are ancient places in the forest," she said, "from the days when the People had their home in the Dales. Dangerous things as old as arlathan. We guard them, but we fear to draw too close, lest we become corrupted by their evil. Keeper Orellis feared that Harellan, blinded by resentment and too eager to get away from its source, strayed too close to one such place, and awakened something that should have been left to slumber."

 

She looked at Laurelin, and then at Mercuriel, where her gaze rested a moment as if reading his past in his eyes.

 

"You who wear the markings of our people will have heard of the places of which I speak, and perhaps the reasons why we guard from a distance. Our Keepers are trained in the ancient ways, as much as we remember, and we are trained to be wary, but such was not always the case. Our ancestors delved into the forgotten arts, and brought many things from the Beyond into our world. Some of those things remain, caged, even if all those who knew their secrets perished long ago. We feared that Harellan found one, and perhaps became its first victim... but not its latest. We sent hunters after him, but they never returned. The Keeper spoke of going in search of Harellan himself, but it never came to pass. We were attacked, and we were taken, to the last man, woman, and child. I alone escaped, though I was wounded in the battle, as you saw."

 

She stroked Tempest's hand and smiled at Etienne, Sarel, and Laurelin.

 

"I will never forget your kindness in saving me," she said. "I have some skill at healing, but I had no time to stop and treat my wounds, and then they turned sour, and illness took the ability from me. I hoped that I might be able to persuade the people of Vintiver to overlook their distrust and help us. Once we are... gone... whatever Harellan awoke may soon turn on them, and the humans have no means to combat it. We need to find this thing and kill it, for the sake of both our people."

 

She glanced around the room as if searching for something.

 

"Have you parchment and a quill?" she asked. "I can make a map for you of the location of our latest camp, and mark the approximate location of the ancient ruins upon it. We had not yet reached the place where we usually spend the winter, and I have never been to the ruins myself, so I cannot pinpoint a precise location, but I know the general direction in which it lies. Perhaps once you find our camp - where we halted and where we were when Harellan went missing - you may discover the trail that leads to the ruins."

 

She hesitated only a moment, and then continued, "If you consent to the task, may you go with the blessings of the Creators and your human gods alike, for you will need them. We called the evil within the ruins Nan'Harellen, Vengeance of the Child of Fear. The silver link that was in my hand when you found me was part of the chain that once bound it, so whatever happened to Harellan and to the hunters who pursued him - and whatever has befallen my clan - we now know for certain that Nan'Harellen is loose. It has the power to create lesser versions of itself, Revengers, in the Trade Tongue, and they are fearsome to behold. Their mouths are filled with jagged teeth, and their fingers end in claws. Their cries can stun the unwary, and they are as swift as flame and as silent as darkness."

 

She brought her forefingers and thumbs to form a ring.

 

"Keep the silver link upon you," she said, "for you will need it. Keeper Orellis said that it alone has the power to undo Nan'Harellen, though I do not know how."

 

She looked to each face in turn, her eyes beseeching.

 

"Go with haste," she said. "It may not be too late to save my clan, even now. The Revengers attacked us, but they carried us off rather than slaying us where we stood. They could have done so easily, but something stayed their hands. If they spared us for some dread purpose, it is possible that some yet live, and I beg you to rescue them, as you rescued me."

 

 

She falls silent, wearied by her tale, but still alert, and still able to draw the map and answer questions.

[BFace]

From her place, leaned against the wall near the door with her arms crossed, Tessa said, "Of course we need to stop this." 

 

Her voice was steady, but her face was pale, her grey eyes large in her face.  This was most certainly some sort of demon. Or worse.  She thought back to the carnage at the farmhouse and didn't quite repress a shudder.

 

"Draw this map so that we may prepare to go that way."

[Brian ofthe Dialogue Wheel]

Sarel's hand tightened around the smooth wood of his staff until the knuckles were white as the Dalish told the story of what, so far, had befallen her clan. His resolve was more than ever- he was only supposed to deliver and administer the poultices, but this could not do- he couldn't just ignore a request from a Dalish mage, or leave Elves in danger. To whom should he tell his interest to? The two Dalish would be logical, but neither could vouch for his skill. Tessa and Beldin- being passingly acquainted with the Innkeeper and his wife, might try to pressure him into staying. The others, he had only passing interactions with, such as handing supplies to the mage they called Tempest- he had never met her in his years at the Circle, and was sure he'd recall her. Could she be an apostate as well? The Dwarf and the Elven Bard he hadn't even said two words to yet.  And then there was Etienne. Who better, than a man who knew him all his life, to vouch for his character? Who better, than a fellow mage who had seen him cast before to vouch for his ample magical skill? Ugh, Creators be good, Maker be damned! This is what I was trying to avoid! If I'm going to ask this favor of him, though, I need to clear the air between us.

When the recovering Dalish left off, and had allowed for questions, Sarel asked,  "Are there any magical or mundane traps we have need to fear and be aware of on our way, and any dangers you know of apart from the "Revengers?"; you said your people guard these places, and the Dalish are known for their ingenuity with trapping and hunting, and it's clear there were at least two mages in your clan. I know you're still recovering, however anything you can tell will help us save your clan."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
*After questions have been posed/answered and map drawn, but before the party leaves the room to get ready.*

Sarel made his way over to Etienne and, after hesitating a moment, tapped him brusquely on the shoulder. When the human turned around, he whispered, "I have a. . . request," Sarel breathed, and even he could hear the uncomfortable twitch in his lips as the word left his mouth- Sarel had never allowed himself to become dependent on anyone, except for loyal Fen'Harel. Favors and requests weren't something he enjoyed asking for. "but also a clarification to make." He glanced back over towards the Dalish woman to make sure she had nothing else to say, and motioned with his free hand to the door.

[berelinde]

"Are there any magical or mundane traps we have need to fear and be aware of on our way, and any dangers you know of apart from the "Revengers?"; you said your people guard these places, and the Dalish are known for their ingenuity with trapping and hunting, and it's clear there were at least two mages in your clan. I know you're still recovering, however anything you can tell will help us save your clan."
 

"I wish I had better answers for you," Eshara said. "I have never been there myself. Keeper Orellis forbade anyone from venturing near the place except in his presence. He journeyed there every year to refresh the wards our ancestors placed around it, but such defenses would not stand long against anyone - elf, human, or dwarf - who was determined to enter. He spoke of the Veil being thin there as a consequence of the evil it contained, so it's possible you may encounter undead or creatures from the Beyond who've entered our world. As for traps, I cannot say. Not even the Keeper descended into the ruins, so I cannot tell you what to expect. I do know that when our people fled the Dales in ages past, the ancient fortress was already in ruins."

[Brian ofthe Dialogue Wheel]

Sarel nodded, knowing it wasn't unheard of for potent magic or well made traps to not only outlive the caster, but the civilization itself, and the ancient Elves were supposed to be more magically gifted than the Tevene, and almost as skilled artisans as the Dwarves. "I thank you for answering my question."

[Mahumia]

Bartha had listened silently to the tale of Eshara. She'd taken a spot in a corner of the room, to leave the closest area free to those who had looked after the Dalish and the other elves.

 

The description reminded her of stories her father had told... about creatures that came from below to infest the land and would corrupt everyone that came into contact with them.

 

She pondered for a while before addressing the woman: "If I may...? My name is Bartha, and I would like to send you my deepest regards for your losses. I hope we can salvage as many as possible from your clan. But if you don't mind... you speak of creatures from the 'beyond'. Would you mean the deep roads with that? My kind has stories about creatures that sound very familiar to yours, and, from my understanding, fights neverending battles in some forgotten parts beneath the soil we walk on. In that case I would have a clue to find sources of information on what kind of foe we would be facing."

[berelinde]

Eshara smiled at Bartha and paused as if thinking.

 

"I have heard of the Deep Roads of your people," she said at last. "They may be similar to the ancient places of my kind in the sense that they were once our homes and that they are now lost to us. They may also be alike in that both contain ancient and relentless evil, but they are not quite the same, I think. The darkspawn who infest your once-glorious halls are linked to demons in some way, but they are not of your making. They breed there and they shelter there, but they entered by their own choice, if such a thing is possible to those loathsome creatures. Our ancestors summoned the evil themselves, hoping to bind it and study it, and potentially use it as a weapon. If there are demons in our forgotten places, it is because we invited them, in our hubris, and we've forgotten the means to send them back."

[ChachiBobinks]

Notes about the prior evening:

Spoiler

It had been a long night. First, all of his clothing had to be cleaned. A simple linen tunic and brown trousers had been donned instead of his typical fancy clothing, but only out of lack of anything better to wear. Each article of clothing was washed meticulously and hung to dry in the kitchen. It meant that once he was ready to lay down (seemingly for the evening), the most had already done the same. He had taken up residence for the evening in the main room, his bedroll tucked away in the corner closest to the kitchen walkway. 

 

Once he was positive that everyone was asleep, Etienne crept from his bed and back into the kitchen. He was mostly a private man, and felt that things such as his religion were to be kept close to the chest. By the light of a single candle as far away from the others as possible, he knelt in prayer. He had so many things to discuss with the Maker - the deaths, the children, the words shared with him by Tempest, the mage. Seeing Sarel again weighed heavily on his mind, not only due to the shock of seeing someone from his past, but the uncertainty that surrounded it. And then, of course, there was Rael. He had been taught that to have feelings for another was to commit a sin against the Maker himself, as mages were meant for other purposes and not human emotions. There had been times in his past when he had... interacted with others... but they had been so brief and never gone too far. And he had felt the guilt even then, despite emotions never running too deep. Teenage hormones had caused him far more grief than anything practical, so real feelings and heart-felt attraction dared to shake him to the core. His allegiance to the Circle was faltering, though, especially after the conversation he had with Tempest. So he prayed, asking for not only forgiveness for what he had done, but guidance on where to go from there. 

 

Once he had finished his prayer, rubbing his face and wiping his eyes tiredly, he made his way back into great room, only to find that he was not alone in his restlessness. Rael sat there, diligently sewing the shreds of Beldin's shirt. His breath caught in his throat; the timing was impeccable. Maker, how he'd love to take advantage of the others sleeping and engage in her quiet conversation, but he'd not risk riling them. The day had been long, and rest was sorely needed. So instead, he chewed on the corner of his bottom lip and nodded to her before quickly laying down, too distracted to notice his suddenly departed gloves.

 

Etienne had listened diligently, brow furrowed with concern and hands clasped behind his back... glovelessly. When combined with the concern the Dalish's words had given him, he seemed far more uncomfortable and twitchy than normal. His fingers flexed and curled as he seemed almost unable to stand still. There were many things Etienne struggled to understand. The prejudice and hatred between the races was a foreign concept to him. Most mages were sent to the tower as small children and thankfully, racism was a concept that generally came later in life. The elves and humans in the tower were equal in strength and power. There was never any doubt that they were practically the same. 

 

"I am glad you are doing so well," he said to her softly, then smiled at the other mages. Seeing her recuperate was most rewarding. He had healed many an injury and illness in the past, but never anyone who had been so close to the Maker's side. It made him swell with pride. He had no conflict-related questions for her, though, as his own knowledge in the Viventer struggle was so limited. There were others who were far more knowledgeable. After all, he was just a simple botanist. 

 

In want of finding his gloves, he edged himself away from the group, only to feel a hand on his shoulder moments later. He turned swiftly and startled at the sight of Sarel. Who he had been avoiding. "I, ah... yes?"

 

His gaze moved to Rael, who looked unsettled by all that she had heard. He offered Sarel a quick, distracted smile and said, "If you would please, serah, I need just one moment's time..." 

Modifié par Chachi Bobinks, 24 août 2014 - 10:48 .

[Mahumia]

Bartha felt a cold shiver dance over her back. She didn't know that much about darkspawn, but the stories always worried her greatly. And, per Eshara's answer, this threat was even greater... Especially the last sentence "we invited them and we've forgotten the means to send them back" kept circling around in her mind.

 

Nonetheless she nodded at Eshara: "Thank you for your answer."

[obsessedwjpn]

Once Rael's singing was finished, he looked over at Mercuriel; the elf and been a little short with him earlier, but HAD offered him a seat, and seemed to have been distracted by the -admittedly lovely- Laurelin, so maybe he was more social than it appeared. "You look well traveled, Ser. What part of the country do you come from? Or is your clan from the West?"

 

(I am continuing and finishing a post from the night before because I didn't have a chance before the RP moved forward.)

 

Mercuriel watched as the elf and his hound moved to situate themselves near him for conversation. The two Mabaris seemed to get on well though Mercuriel could see Dog getting along with a patch of moss that formed on the ground too. Oh well, he just had to face that he had chosen a lover not a fighter. He sighed and then his ears perked up at Sarel's question. Sarel wanted to know where he was from and about his clan. That certainly wasn't good. Mercuriel had to figure out how he would get away without answering much, if anything. He really didn't want to bring up his clan just now, or ever, for that matter.

 

"I have seen my fair share of years and travel." He nodded at Sarel. "Like yourself, I imagine, what with so few mages who are not of the Dalish running around unaccompanied by their human guardians, Templars, was it?" He flashed Sarel a wry smile. "Should I ask where your guardian has scurried off to? Not that I advocate needing one - the idea of the Circle is a farce at best and a prison at worst." He hoped to create enough of an awkward feeling that Sarel would leave him be. He hoped that Sarel, like him, did not wish to discuss the past but rather stay here in the present. His clan had been through enough without him dragging their name through the mud.

 

(Now I am posting in relation to the morning and new turn of events)

 

As Dog slept the morning light away, Mercuriel watched several of the farmhouse occupants go in and out of a room. He imagined there was someone of importance back there considering that several people had been murmuring of the dangers that day and talking about the recovery of a Dalish woman. Was that person of importance another of his kind? As much as this thought intrigued him to know more, he decided to stay out of the room and remain in the main area of the farmhouse. He didn't like crowded spaces very much and would retrieve the information later from someone. Besides, if the Dalish woman was as sick as everyone seemed to think, then she probably didn't need another body bothering her.

 

Dog made a loud snort and slowly opened his sleepy eyes. "Welcome to the land of the living," Mercuriel teased the hound. Dog licked his nose and yawned. "Always so beautiful in the morning, you are." Mercuriel rolled his eyes and began to pace around the main living area. He brushed back a few stray strands of hair that had fallen out of place as he pondered, what exactly had he gotten himself into? He hoped that whatever happened he didn't have to face another Dalish clan so soon. He tried avoiding them after his own clan banished him. Word might have gotten around, who knew?

 

Mercuriel shook his head. "This is no good, I can't be worrying myself like this. I can at least make myself useful." He decided useful meant that he would go looking for Laurelin. She had taken a bath last night and was no doubt even more beautiful and smelling like honey. He needed just a glimpse of her to prevent his mind from wandering to darker corners. 

[mysteriouspast]

As Eshara told her tale, Rael was filled with a steadily increasing sense of dread. She'd never encountered anything like what the woman had described--ancient demons and their nightmarish minions. It was nearly impossible to conceive, that level of terror. She thought finding the dead family the previous day was enough to disturb her, imagine how ghastly these creatures must be!

 

Who was she to combat such monstrosities? She was a city elf, a musician--no one, really. Certainly not some sort of hero who could vanquish such horrors. She'd come on this mission as a favor to Kesla, who had been kind to her. It was only supposed to be a search and rescue that ended up not requiring the rescue at all.

 

Whatever they were up against had dispatched an entire family--some able-bodied and able to defend themselves--as though they were made of paper. What had she to combat such power? A crossbow and a sword? She hadn't the strength of Tessa or Beldin, nor the impressive magic of Etienne, Laurelin, or Tempest. How could she hope to meet something like that demon and survive?

 

When the Dalish woman finished speaking, Rael realized she had subconsciously withdrawn from her until her back was against the wall, as though she could recede through it.  What Eshara had said was true--if they could not stop the demon, it would continue to kill, and no one would be safe. But what could she do about it? Maker, what could she possibly do?

[Brian ofthe Dialogue Wheel]

(To conclude Mercuriel and Sarel's conversation from last night)

"Haha, my travels are a recent development," he tried to say nonchalantly, petting Fen'Harel behind the ears. Mercuriel was a swift one, to realize he was an apostate, or else really, really good at making mages uncomfortable. "If only your views on the Circle and their. . . guards. . .were more common place." The idea that Mercuriel seemed to be posing surely couldn't be what Sarel was thinking. No mages other than the Dalish, running around without their humans were more common. "Mages, Circle or no, have no need of guards, however, the Templar finds the need to shove them all into one place, control their breeding, and put down the problematic ones. . . much like our people, after the fall of the Elven Empire, and later, the fall of the Dales." Sarel left Mercuriel alone with his thoughts, as he entertained his own. The Dalish. . . keepers, freedom to move around, a life outside of human control, with plenty of my own kind around me, seeking long dead information much like myself. . . If Sarel wanted to put his plan into motion, the best way to do that would be becoming a hero to a Dalish clan, he was sure of it.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest did her best to look after Eshara and tend to her needs. Not everything could be fixed by magic, but Tempest tended the woman patiently as she recovered, making sure she had food and water and the opportunity to freshen up. When there was nothing else she could do, she simply let Eshara hold her hand. 

 

She felt her chest tighten with fear when Eshara spoke of the danger that had engulfed her people. So it was demons, as Tempest had suspected all along. Of course, that wasn't due to any particular deductive skill. Tempest was from Kirkwall, where the Veil was thin. She had seen more than enough of the ways of demons to fear them. Whenever something was seriously amiss, Tempest's gut reaction was to worry that demons were at fault.

 

Unfortunately, this time she happened to be right.

 

The last thing she wanted to do was face down demons. Her memory of thinking that she would be killed in the wolf attack was still fresh. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to leave her children motherless.

 

Her desires were not of primary importance now, though. The suffering of the Dalish, the danger they faced, was primary. She could not turn her back on them out of a selfish desire to preserve her own life. She must do the will of the Maker, and do right by His children.

 

"I will help your people any way I can," Tempest said, and gave Eshara's hand another squeeze.

 

This time, she wouldn't be caught unprepared. Had the wolves killed her, her family might never have known what had happened to her. Now she knew some of her comrades a little better. She could trust them to take a message to her children in the event she didn't survive. Before they left, she would see they were prepared to do so.

[Lorien19]

Laurelin was finally relaxed from the warm bath she had earlier.
She rushed to assist her fellow Dalish woman,helping her to groom her self.
For a moment Laurelin thought that she was ready to hear,whatever Eshara was going to tell her...She was not.
The elvhen woman's tale caused her great pain and sadness,but also some kind of distress that she didn't expect to feel.Something like a dark long lost memory that she desperately wanted to forget.
"I know the places you speak of,Lethallan."Her gaze wandered between Eshara and Mercuriel,wondering whether he's been warned by the keeper of his clan,as vehemently as she was.

"Nan'harellen"must be stopped at any cost,otherwise many innocent people will lose their lives."she said grimly "Because of his insatiable thirst for vengeance."
Laurelin felt a shiver down her spine,and the well known Fereldan cold had nothing to do with it,especially considering the fact it she was standing next to the fire.But for some reason the heat couldn't reach her.
The keeper would want to know this immediately,but her raven was nowhere near her to be found.
"You can always count on me for help Lethallan"she finally addressed Eshara"I'm the first of the Eladiel clan,and I've been sent to assist your clan in this time of need."
Laurelin didn’t have a reason to hide her purpose anymore,not from these people.

[berelinde]

Morning Summary: Beldin wakes up and ruminates about some of his new companions.

 

Spoiler

Beldin awoke to discover that someone had mended his tattered clothes while he slept. He had never heard of sewing fairies, so some mortal must have undertaken the task. He could only imagine two people stitching bandage-sized swaths back together without asking him how they got that way, and he didn't think men who lived in huge towers with hundreds of servants had much experience with the needle. He sighed as he folded them and stowed them carefully in his pack. He was grateful, of course. He had precious little clothing, so what he did have, he liked to keep clean and mended, despite his ineptitude with any instrument smaller than broadsword. But he hated the implication that Rael felt she owed him anything. The accident was his fault, by the Maker. She had no reason to take the blame for it.

 

But done was done, and making a commotion over it now would only draw attention to an incident that both of them would want to keep quiet. He settled for a small show of gratitude. He caught her eye as she set out bread for breakfast, folded his hands over his heart, and bowed his thanks. Perhaps she would think he was thanking her for the food, but that would work, too.

 

Etienne's dithering as he searched the kitchen for his gloves made him smile. The young man peered in pots and crocks and the most unlikely of sacks muttering "I must have left them somewhere!" All the while forgetting that he traveled with at least one crafty and mischievous young woman.

 

It was so achingly familiar it made his chest hurt with homesickness. The garrison was like that. One of the sergeants would pinch a recruit's helmet or gauntlet or some other bit of gear and then call for an armor inspection. They'd all line up, whispering warnings about being out of uniform while the poor boy sweated and stammered his apologies. And then, the sergeant would produce the "lost" article and clap the lad on the shoulder. Drinking usually followed, and a lot of well-intended teasing. Some of the lads took it hard, sulking or even losing their tempers over it, but most took it for what it was. It was a rite of passage, an initiation.

 

Except in this case, it might have been something else. They seemed quite taken with each other, Rael and Etienne. He'd been in the bath at the time, but he overheard some of the others whispering about their long moonlight stroll. Not all solitary walks were preludes to romance (some ended with a sword through the belly), but the two avoided each others' gaze too often for mere coincidence. It was cheering to think that people could find happiness even with dagger-clawed monsters prowling the night.

 

The two male elves did not seem keen to become acquainted, but he could not blame them. In the cities, he was told, elves were valued only as property, and humans treated them accordingly. Like Rael, they probably believed him to be stamped in the same mold. It was not an easy concept for him to understand. In Logerwold, people worried more about survival and the price of timber in Denerim than they did about the shape of one's ears, if they even noticed. The logging camps and the lumber mill employed many elves, mostly runaways from Denerim, but they said little of the life they left behind. They came seeking freedom and opportunity, and if they were strong and hardy, they found it. If they weren't, they went hungry, but so did the humans too infirm to earn a living in a community built on hard manual labor. But Mercuriel and Sarel would not know that, nor could he tell them without making the conversation all about him, which he'd rather avoid. No, he'd do better to respect their privacy. They would form their opinions on their own. Besides, if they had already decided to hate him for being a human, nothing he could say would change that.

 

Afternoon Summary: Beldin gives Eshara some parchment and a pencil so she can draw a map.

 

Spoiler

He listened to her tale from the threshold between the kitchen and the bedroom. He was simply too big to be allowed in the cramped room.

 

He grew more and more anxious as she spoke. Of course, he would help, if the others would have him. He had come to Vintiver seeking aid for Logerwold, but that would have to wait. The lives of an entire Dalish clan took priority over merchant interests, to say nothing of what would happen if the evil that threatened them was not stopped.

 

She spoke of magic and demons, but that did not trouble him. Most things died if you hit them hard enough, and those that did not would kill him instead, ending his involvement in the matter. One way or another, problem solved, at least for him. An evil with a name could be defeated, and defeat it, he would.

 

He listened to the others' questions and Eshara's answers, but he had no contribution of his own to offer. Just point him at a target and give him room to swing. That was really all he needed.

 

What Eshara needed was writing tools, and nobody seemed ready to give her any. He had neither quill nor ink, but he did have parchment and a lead stylus. He produced them from his pack and eased his way into the room. He deposited the writing implements on the bed beside the elven woman and withdrew to the kitchen.

 

They were going into the forest. He had better be sure that his weapons and armor were up to it.

Modifié par berelinde, 25 août 2014 - 12:29 .
Beldin can't see through walls.

[obsessedwjpn]

After searching the farmhouse for a few minutes, Mercuriel came to the realization that Laurelin must be in the sick room with the others. He did not particularly want to go in there but he felt that he should at least stop by and take a look inside. He did not want to appear unsympathetic to his fellow Dalish and he did want to see Laurelin if nothing else.

 

Mercuriel quietly poked his head inside the door separation and took a look around the room. Almost everyone was here and in the bed rested a Dalish woman who looked like she she seen and been through hell. Perhaps she'd taken a vacation there and just returned, he thought comically to himself. As his eyes continued to scan the room, Mercuriel saw Laurelin off to the side. She was speaking with the Dalish woman and seemed to be attempting to comfort her.

 

Laurelin looked even more beautiful than when he saw her last night. That bath had certainly added a sparkle to her appearance. He felt a slight pang of jealousy towards the water in that bath. How lucky it had been to be able to caress her skin as it did. And the soap probably had even more intimate contact with her body than the water did. His ears burned for a moment as he closed his eyes and attempted to refocus. Laurelin had certainly made his day better already.

 

Then, Laurelin's eyes met his own and he wondered what exactly she was thinking at that moment. Had she somehow heard what he'd been thinking? He certainly hoped not.

 

The few words that his ears caught amidst the conversation in the room involved some kind of summoning and a demon. Demons were never good. If this woman was somehow connected with a demon problem then Mercuriel could see only blood and death in their future. Demons did not play fair nor did they spare anyone. Mercuriel swore under his breath and stepped away from the room again. He had really stepped in the mud now by joining this group. He shouldn't have let his hunger and obsession with beautiful women get the better of him. 

 

Oh well, he couldn't leave now. Despite his unhappiness with the situation, he would not abandon the group, especially now that he knew a Dalish clan could be in trouble. The least he could do on his path to absolution would be to assist his kind in battle.

 

Mercuriel checked his inventory and weapons. He then called to Dog and made sure to take a moment to talk with his hound. Mabari were very smart and, even though Mercuriel didn't believe Dog understood every word he said, he felt it necessary to discuss with Dog the upcoming danger just like any teammate. After the chat with Dog, Mercuriel wandered into the kitchen and noticed Beldin. 

 

"Demons always ruin the fun for everyone, right?" He tried to lighten the atmosphere a bit.

[ChachiBobinks]

En route to speak with Sarel in private, Etienne stopped by Rael and bent his head, angling himself so that he could catch her eye. He reached out, resting his hand against her clothed elbow. Demons were... well, they were a reality to him. He had fought them before - in his Harrowing, mainly. But internal demons were the worst sort and of them, he was exceedingly familiar. 

 

"Rael?" His voice was low and he paused, looking over his shoulder briefly. "I must be quick. I am so sorry, messere. Will you wait for me? I'd like to talk." 

 

Maker, how he wished for telepathy so he could ask someone far more knowledgeable, such as Tempest, to check on Rael. It was obvious that she had not handled the conversation well, though he was unsure as to why. 

[mysteriouspast]

Rael managed to swim out of her own thoughts long enough to look at Etienne when he touched her elbow and spoke to her. His words seemed muffled and strange, but she got the gist that he was asking to speak to her later. She managed to nod mutely in his general direction, as he seemed to be waiting on a response. He nodded briefly, still looking around, acutely aware of whether anyone was watching them. Then he turned his back and walked away.

 

Etienne was being discrete, secretive almost, and it was far from surprising. She couldn't expect much more from him, could she? He was conflicted about their kiss last night from the start. And the way he all but ignored her when their eyes met after everyone had gone to sleep... She'd let it go, of course, waited for him to set the tone for their next interaction. It was safer that way--not getting her hopes up. If subsequent events were any indication, it was looking like he'd be indifferent towards her at best, and chilly towards her at worst. 

 

Rael glanced around the room and saw the expressions of her other companions. They all seemed to be acting as though everything was business as usual. Was she truly the only one who was cowed by the idea of confronting a powerful, ancient demon? How could they be so calm? So assured of their victory? Never had she felt so out of place, so overmatched.

 

Feeling sick to her stomach, Rael bolted outside through the kitchen and sat on the wooden bench by the door, her head in her hands, shivers running through her. She had all but forgotten what that bench had meant to her the night before.

[berelinde]

 

 

"Demons always ruin the fun for everyone, right?" He tried to lighten the atmosphere a bit.

Beldin grinned at Mercuriel as they checked their gear.

 

"That they do," he agreed, though the lightness of his tone might suggest that he didn't take the threat as seriously as some might. "But we do what we have to do, aye?"

 

He nodded toward Mercuriel's greatsword.

 

"We knew when we took up our weapons that would be our lot," he said companionably. "But there's fellowship and good ale, so I call it a win."

 

He extended his hand. Since ancient days, human warriors have greeted their comrades by clasping each others' forearms. He was not sure if the Dalish shared the custom, but even if they did not, the intention of the gesture was obvious.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest noted Rael's hasty exit with concern. She didn't know if it was because of what the Dalish woman said or something else, but the woman appeared to be quite upset. Tempest wasn't inclined to allow a companion to remain upset without at least trying to figure out a way to help.

 

"Excuse me a moment," she said to the rest of her companions, then followed Rael outside, hoping she wasn't overstepping by doing so.

 

"I apologize if I'm intruding," Tempest told Rael. "You just... I wanted to make sure you're alright. Is there any way I can help? Or would you rather just be left alone? If you'd like to talk, I'll listen, no matter what it is." 

[mysteriouspast]

Rael wiped the cold sweat off the back of her neck and looked at the delicate mage who sat next to her. "Am I alright?" she echoed, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. "Yes... no... no, I don't think so." She looked sheepishly at the ground. "I... I've never fought anything like a demon before. I'm... scared. I don't know if I can do this."

[TreeHuggerHannah]

"Of course you're scared," Tempest said, giving Rael's free hand a comforting squeeze. "So am I. I would imagine almost everyone in that room is frightened. The evil we are going to face is terrible and destructive. When we acknowledge that, fear is the rational response."

 

She smiled comfortingly at Rael. "You can do this, though. You're strong. You're brave, or you wouldn't be here in the first place. Of course, you don't have to fight this battle. No one is going to force you. If you choose to walk away, no one will think less of you. Maker knows it isn't our fight. But... if you stay, you have the chance to do some good for people in desperate need."