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[Lorien19]

Laurelin felt a shiver down her spine when she heard about Philomera's sudden disappearance.She knew exactly why she left as it hadn't been few times that she'd hear such voices herself.Voices that she learnt to ignore.
A confirmation of her fate was also the fact that she left her belongings behind,who would do that in the middle of the wilds.Lost in her thoughts she was a bit startled when she felt Mercuriel presence,she snapped out and looked back at him with a sad smile and stood up.
"We should start with the preparations then...I'll need some acorns to plant on the graves,for a start and then I'll sing for them,as the keeper has taught me."She sighed and looked at the ground "May Falon'Din guide them."

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tessa sighed. “I am not going to speak ill. And as we move through the forest, as a group,” she emphasized that phrase, “we should keep an eye out for her.”

 

Wrinkling her nose, she added, “But I feel it’s pretty clear that she did not wish to remain in our company.”

 

Tempest blushed a little at the emphasis Tessa placed on as a group, and nodded with a faint smile of chagrin.

 

Tessa was right, of course. It had been foolish for Tempest to go charging off by herself after Philomena. If she'd had a moment to think the decision through, she would have realized it was reckless. It could have put her in danger - or worse, endangered her companions. She'd been worried, and thinking with her heart rather than her head... but it hadn't been smart, and she was willing to admit that.

 

"Yes," she agreed. "We'll keep our eyes open, and hope for her safe return."

 

In the meantime, they still had many miles to travel, and they needed to stay focused on their goal, or the menace that faced Vintiver and the Dalish might render any individual's survival a moot point.

 

 

"We should start with the preparations then...I'll need some acorns to plant on the graves,for a start and then I'll sing for them,as the keeper has taught me."She sighed and looked at the ground "May Falon'Din guide them."

 

"I can help you gather the acorns," Tempest said. "Thank you for providing funeral rites. I am sure that is what they would have wanted."

 

Whether their attackers had been evil or merely misguided, surely no one would wish to be left for the crows to feed on. It was only right that these people should be given proper respect.

[Lorien19]

Laurelin looked back at Tempest,a soft smile on her face.
"And I thank you for volunteering to help me with that,Tempest."she walked towards the human mage
"Your help will be much appreciated."

[Mahumia]

Bartha wandered around a bit. All around people were making preparations for or actually performing the funerals for the bandits. She felt a bit torn: on one hand, she would like to offer support, on the other, she had really no clue whether she could make herself useful, as she was not that familiar with the rituals. And well, the last thing she wanted was to jinx the process and screw up the whole thing. So, perhaps better to stay  away and not in the way... 

 

She assumed that the plan was to move on the same day, so she spent some time grabbing her belongings together and wrap up her tent. However, it would probably take some time before they would go anyway... 'Blighted guide disappearing and leaving us in this bloody forest... I hope that anyone will be able to find the way...' She shook her head, and thought of some other tasks to be done in the meantime. 

 

Something did indeed pop up, and she searched her bag for the required goods. 'Perhaps not the best thing to do now, but it is at least better to do it now, before the freezing cold will really set in. And they'd better not get used to it, or I'll wash them along...' She cleared her throat before calling out: "I'm going to do some laundry. Anyone else wishing to get theirs done too?" 

[BFace]

Shortly after dusk, most of the group was still milling about the campfire. The night was cool, but drier than the last. The stench of the day’s burning was either dissipating or Tessa was just getting numb to it.  It had been a long and grueling day, hauling branches and keeping the fire fed. Shortly before dusk, she had gone down to the stream and quickly had a bath.

 

She was still sitting cross-legged close to the fire waiting for her hair to dry.  For once, her hair was unbound and framing her face.  Occasionally she’d run her hands through it vigorously as if to speed the drying process, but mostly she was just enjoying the heat before she went to bed.

 

She looked around the campfire at some of her companions. Rhys was sitting a good bit away from the fire, whittling something.  He wasn’t being anti-social at all, he was showing off how little the cold affected him, the brat.   Speaking of brat, her gaze shifted to Mercuriel who was having a quiet word with Laurelin. When he caught Tess looking, he grinned and she stuck her tongue out at him.  Tempest was brewing tea, it looked like, and Bartha was walking the perimeter of the camp, as was Fabian, it appeared, from the other side. Beldin sat opposite her, on the other side of the fire. He was mending, Tess thought. At least that’s what she thought his look of intense concentration was for.

 

Earlier in the day as he spoke the Chant over the pyre of fallen bandits, Tessa had been nearly overwhelmed by surprise and had come close to hugging him in an overflow of emotion.  She liked that he understood, without explanation, why she and Tempest had advocated for a pyre.

 

Beldin looked up just then and met her eyes across the fire.  Glancing around to see that no one was looking, she looked back at him, lifted a corner of her mouth in a smile and winked at him before she could change her mind.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

By the time the pyre burned down, it would be too late to travel, Tempest knew. It wouldn't be safe to move in the dark, and they weren't guaranteed to find another campsite as relatively secure as this one before night fell. For the time being, it was best to stay put.

 

Tempest helped Laurelin gather acorns as she had said she would, but being neither Dalish nor familiar with their cultural customs, she could contribute nothing more to their funeral rites than standing in respectful silence while the appropriate rituals were observed.

 

Once all the dead had been given a proper send-off, Tempest refreshed the wards around their camp, and then, having heard that there was a stream nearby appropriate for bathing, she decided that she would take a bath also. She gathered her things and unwrapped a bar of soap she had carefully packed from home - lavender, her favorite - let the others know where she was going to ensure she wouldn't be disturbed, and then went down to the creekside.

 

She felt awkward slipping out of her clothes even though no one was nearby; she glanced around several times to ensure that before undressing. Tempest couldn't help shuddering as she caught an inadvertent glimpse of the scars on her torso and wrists. It was disgusting. No... this was her. She was disgusting. Such shame needed to be hidden.

 

Tessa had said that a good man would love her in spite of what had happened to her. Perhaps that was true. In this moment, though, the whole thing seemed wildly improbable. She had a body no one would ever want to look at or touch. Possibly she could marry, if she found an exceptionally kind and understanding man, but surely the marriage could only be a celibate friendship while he took his pleasure elsewhere.

 

And yet even so, she had... needs. Needs which would never be met. Though she had never admitted it to anyone, Tempest had considered visiting a brothel, just because it would feel so desperately good to be touched, and she was sure the only way she could have that was to pay someone to pretend not to be repulsed. She hadn't done it, mostly out of fear that it might be a sin - but also with a nagging worry that even coin wouldn't be enough to spare her a rejection. She told herself sternly, whenever such thoughts arose, that she must learn to do without.

 

Tempest closed her eyes, and immersed herself in the water as quickly as possible. It was cold, and made her shiver, but that didn't matter. The important thing was that her body was hidden from all eyes, including her own.

 

She hated taking baths. All the lavender soap in the world couldn't make up for the shame and self-criticism the sight of her marked skin dredged up. Alas, cleanliness was a necessity.

 

When she'd scrubbed herself clean, Tempest clothed herself as hastily as she could, her cold-numbed fingers fumbling with buttons and laces. She joined the others at the fire and put on a pot to boil for tea, then started combing the knots out of her dark curls. The presence of pleasant company helped chase away the dark thoughts that had plagued her as she bathed, and as the fire warmed her, the smile also returned to her face.

[berelinde]

Beldin dug. It takes a surprisingly long time to dig two graves, and without Tessa's help (and occasionally, Mercuriel's), he would have been at it all night, but at least the ground was soft from the rains, with just enough clay to keep the walls from collapsing. The heavy soil did make digging easier and safer, but it did make for a backbreaking afternoon, and he was about ready to lie down in one of them himself by the time it was done. The sun was just setting. He hoped sunset was a good time to inter the dead, but he'd have to fill the holes back in before he could sleep, and he did not want to delay their travels another day.

 

He hauled himself out of the grave and lowered his arms into the other to give Tessa a hand. He was tall enough to climb out of a six foot deep hole without assistance, but it was just a bit too deep for her to do the same. She made her way toward the stream to wash up, but he remained, and together with Mercuriel, they lowered the bodies into the graves.

 

He drew back a little to give Laurelin room by the graveside to say the words. If the presence of a human was unwelcome at a Dalish burial, she could tell him, but if was permissible, he would stay, if only to lend Laurelin moral support.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest and Bartha have a pleasant chat and get to know each other a little better.

 

Spoiler

The hot water on the fire came to a boil, and Tempest began offering tea to her comrades. Nothing particularly medicinal, since everyone had more or less mended from the battle, but just a soothing mint to keep the evening chill away.

 

"Would you like some, Bartha?" Tempest asked, offering the dwarf woman a cup.

 

"Oh, yes please." With a grateful smile she took the cup from Tempest. "Thank you." Bartha held the cup with both hands, to make good use of the warmth it was emitting. After blowing for a bit, she carefully took a sip of the tea. "It's nice. Mint, isn't it?" 

Tempest nodded. "It's nothing exotic," she said with a smile. "But I find there's comfort in the familiar. We dried the leaves ourselves, from the mint plants in our garden."

 

Talking about her Circle gave Tempest the usual twinge of homesickness. She added, "Not that our garden is much to speak of at the moment. We've moved so often that nothing has a chance to grow properly."

 

"Oh, you have a garden? We don't have one, and I guess that is only for the best... we are away that often, that it would probably grow nothing but weeds." She pondered a bit about Tempest's last comment. "Are you traveling a lot as well, than?" 

 

"I'm very fond of gardening," Tempest replied. "It was something I always wanted to do in Kirkwall, but I had to content myself with flowers in a window box. Now I have more space and the freedom to be out of doors as I wish, but we aren't able to stay in one place for long. Because our little Circle is our own and not overseen by templars, in the eyes of the Chantry we have no legitimacy. We would be hunted as any apostates, although we do not consider ourselves such. It's best to stay a step ahead. Which, alas, does not lend itself to the sort of elaborate gardens I'd have in my dream life."

 

Bartha frowned: "You're a circle, with the intend to live as such, right? I'm pretty sure you are not an apostate, or not a real one, that is. But I'm sorry to hear that you have to keep on hiding and fleeing... Isn't there anywhere where you could find a real sanctuary? This sounds so unfair to me... it's not like you run around and put random shacks on fire!" She lowered her head and took in a deep breath, doing her best to keep her temper. After calming down a bit, she continued. "And regarding your garden: would it be an idea to have some sort of large window boxes? Than you can still move them around if you have to move."

 

"Yes, we intend to live as a Circle," Tempest replied. "We will remain together, stand strong together against temptation, and educate young mages to use their powers for good, so that we may serve others. We do not count ourselves as apostates. But we insist on the right to raise our families, for those who love to settle with their chosen partners, and to be treated as people rather than merely dangerous things to be locked away."

 

She smiled, and continued. "As for whether we could find sanctuary anywhere... I don't know. 'Anywhere' covers a lot of territory. It is possible that the Maker will provide such a thing, although in all honesty I do not see how it would come to be. I do not see how any place could be safe enough that we could stay and put down roots. Vintiver seems welcoming, and I think I might ask Tarl if there was a place we could settle nearby. Perhaps the templars would overlook us for a time. I'm sure one day we'd have to move again. I like your idea of the large window boxes, though - it would be nice to take our garden with us."

 

Bartha smiled: "That sounds to me like the most reasonable thing. I hope that Tarl will be able to assist you in this. If I would come across anything I'll let you know as well."

 

She took some more sips from her tea. "If only we would have some cookies to go with it, than it would have been really perfect." She chuckled softly. "O dear, I already miss my mothers ginger cookies. I knew I should have brought some with me... pity."

"I'll certainly ask Tarl for help with the matter," Tempest answered. "But we won't expect him to devote too much of his time to it, of course. He has more than enough problems of his own without taking on ours as well. Merely if he happens to have any ideas... or if you come up with something... we'd be grateful."

 

She smiled at Bartha's mention of her mother's cookies. "They sound delicious, Bartha. Do you enjoy baking too, or just your mother's baking? I find it quite relaxing, myself."

 

"I'm not patient enough for most types of baking, or well: I can't stand it that it takes me hours to make something, only to get wolfed down by the family in mere seconds. My mother has probably just got used to that." She chuckled softly as memories came up in her mind. "But I can do some small things do. Cookies and the like. Actually quite funny, cause I tend to screw up cooking in general. As long as I can throw everything in one pot, it tends to be somewhat edible. But otherwise I manage to get one bit burned, whilst the other is hardly cooked." She looked up at Tempest, with an impish grin. "So, if you like baking and cooking, I'm sure the group won't mind testing out some of your recipes."

 

Tempest smiled too. "Absolutely!" she replied. "I always like seeing people enjoy the food I've made. Maybe I could exchange recipes with your mother someday." After all, Bartha had already been so kind to invite her to visit the family in Redcliffe someday, and Tempest intended to take her up on it. "I understand why baking isn't your cup of tea, so to speak, but what do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Any hobbies?"

"Oh, I'm sure she would like that!" Bartha nodded. "I think it would be best to arrive hungry though, or actually to bring a whole orphanage with you, once she gets started with trying out recipes."

 

Bartha rubbed her hands against each other when Tempest asked about her hobbies. "On the road like now, I tend to do some small chores to make myself a bit useful, like the laundry earlier on." She sighed, and shrugged a bit. "Back in the days, I used to draw a bit to keep myself occupied on the road. But I didn't bring any supplies with me now. I've got enough to do anyway. Does taking a bath count as a hobby? And sleeping in?"

 

Tempest chuckled at that. "Yes," she replied. "I think those do sound like excellent hobbies indeed!"

[berelinde]

It was a small thing. Under other circumstances, he might never have seen it at all, but consciously or not, he'd been watching Tessa, learning how she moved, familiarizing himself with her gestures. It wasn't even her appearance that drew his attention. There was nothing wrong with it, certainly. Her athletic build and enigmatic eyes excited his interest, but he'd seen pretty girls before. It was just that she was so different from other women he'd known, as focused and as purpose driven as himself, and that drew his attention as much as her more physical attributes. And she winked at him.

 

Perhaps he was mistaken. They were sitting by the fire. Perhaps she had smoke in her eye... but she was sitting upwind. He considered a dozen explanations and discarded them all. No, it was a conscious, voluntary gesture, and a baffling one. Irrational imperatives asserted themselves. Kiss her? Impossible! Also, likely to get him slapped. If she wanted that kind of attention from him... but no. He'd learned his lesson. Giving in to the demands of his trousers had never given him anything but grief or worse. If he listened to them now, he'd be no better than his father.

 

Best to let it go.

[berelinde]

Nightmare

Beldin and Tessa begin to form a partnership.

 

Spoiler

Beldin awoke to the sharp jab of an elbow against his ribs. Sharing a bed was no strange sensation to him. He'd grown up sharing a bed with his brothers, and in the garrison, they put four men to a tent, no exceptions, but this was different, odd. Tessa's breathing was off, catching between breaths, and letting them out with a sob. He rose on one elbow and studied her face in the moonlight filtering through the canvas. She was weeping. He pulled back to give her room, but watched. She didn't flail so much as twitch against... constraints? He waited. His own nightmares usually receded on their own, but it would not hurt him to wait a moment to be sure that she was resting comfortably before returning to his own doze.

 

Her nightmare seemed to be getting worse, not better. He considered waking her, but that would not be the smart thing to do. Startling someone in the throes of night terrors was never a good idea, especially when the dreamer was strong enough to knock him flat.

 

Tessa raised up on her elbow with a gasp, not sure where she was. Her heart was pounding and tears covered her face. 

 

"Easy, Tess," he whispered. "It's me, Beldin. I'm right here."

 

Tess held very still. She hated these night terrors.  She always woke panicked, sobbing and bereft. She never remembered the dreams themselves, just the remnants of helplessness and desolation. She was used to being alone with them where she could spend the rest of the night slowly putting herself back together. She was always fine in the morning, if a bit more quiet than normal, and she knew that what she should do is tell him she was alright, maybe apologize for waking him, tell him to go back to sleep.

 

What she did was sit up and reach her hand out to find him. “Beldin?” she whispered, shakily.

 

"Right here, Tess," he said softly. Her hand almost touched his shoulder already, so he leaned forward until her fingers made contact with his shirt.

 

Tessa curled her fingers into his shirt, and took a deep, hitching breath. She wanted to tell him she was alright - Beldin was kind enough to let her pretend she was - but she was still shaking, tears were still streaming down her face. She covered her face with her free hand, keeping a vice-like grip on his shirt with the other and said, “I...I’m sorry, Beldin...I’m...I’ll be…” 

 

He reached up with the downward arm to touch her hand and placed his other hand lightly on her shoulder.

 

"It's alright, Tess," he said, his voice hardly more than a breath. "Whatever you need."

 

Without a word, she turned to him and buried her head into his shoulder, still shaking. She thought that he would see her differently now, but she could worry about that tomorrow. 

 

He curled his arms around her, cradling her against his chest. Something warm and protective stirred inside him, a softness he didn't expect to find. He laid his cheek against her hair.

 

"We see a lot, you and me," he breathed. Her ears might not hear him clearly with her ear pressed to his shoulder, but she would feel the vibrations, and the tone of acceptance mattered more than the words. "If we're going to fight, we need to believe, and if we're going to believe, we have to feel."

 

Tessa stilled again when he started talking. She was waiting for the inevitable attempts at vague comfort, but even though she couldn’t really hear everything he was saying, she got the impression that he might understand, and that, more than anything, led her to slowly start relaxing against him as she just listened and breathed. And after a time, she let sleep take her.

 

It was so peaceful like this, Beldin thought. The experience was utterly new to him. He'd shared a bed with both brothers and brothers-in-arms before as a way to conserve body heat, and he was not sexually inexperienced... but he'd never held a woman in his arms while he slept. It was the most natural thing in the world, he found, and he drifted off to sleep not far behind her.

 

Tessa woke like she normally did in the mornings - all at once. She opened her eyes and realized that she seemed to be neatly tucked into Beldin’s arms. Her heart gave a vicious leap, then she remembered. He had just accepted her response to her nightmare with no questions, no platitudes...he’d just been there.  She’d have to thank him for that.  She worried, though, that he would be upset, waking to find her snuggled into him like this, so she started trying to quietly extract herself.

 

Beldin stirred at her first twitch, rising groggily toward wakefulness. His arms were around her, as they had been when he fell asleep, but some inner instigator reminded him that he should probably wake up and get off the poor woman. He rolled over onto the other side and muttered something indistinct into his armpit before turning onto his back.

 

"'Morning," he grunted.

 

Tessa sat up when he rolled over, and when he turned onto his back, she took a minute to watch him.  She thought he was awake, sort of. He spoke to her, anyway.

 

“Morning, Beldin. Are you awake?” And the dumb question quota for the day has been reached, Tess.

 

"Partly," he said, grinding his fists against his eyes. "In about the same way a bear is in Guardian."

 

Bits and pieces of the night before started coming back to him, along with the memory of his contentment as she lay in his arms. It was a small thing, reaching out to comfort someone, but it was strange, intimate. Unlike any caresses he had shared with Daeni. For a few hours, the wall of loneliness pulled back, and the happiness lingered.

 

Tess watched Beldin trying to wake up and she wanted to smile. He had this odd way of making things feel more comfortable. She wondered for a moment if he did it on purpose.

 

“I...Thank you, Beldin.” She spoke quietly, afraid of his response, but ready to get it out of the way. She would like to tell him that last night was the first time she’d ever fallen asleep after a nightmare, but she wasn’t even sure how she felt about it, so she certainly wasn’t going to burden him with that knowledge.

 

"... You're welcome," he said, squinting at the canvas above him. "I didn't think you'd roll up the tent with me still inside, but I appreciate the sentiment." 

 

Tessa blinked, and then she smiled. Tentatively, she put her hand on his arm. “I meant about last night. Thank you.” 

 

"Oh," he said. "It happens. We aren't always going to see each other at our best, but that's alright."

 

“I suppose that’s true,” she replied, thoughtfully,”...still. I’m sorry I...just, I…,” She took a quick breath, leaving her hand on his arm, and went on, “I don’t usually sleep after. So thank you.” 

 

He sighed. "About that other thing..." he said hesitantly. "I should probably have gotten back on my own side later on... but it just felt…"

 

She looked down at him, smiling a little. “...Yes. It did.”

 

He smiled back. There was nothing more to say.

[berelinde]

Game Post: The Dalish Camp

 

Summary: The party arrives at the Dalish camp, finds it in shambles, and meets someone they might not have expected to find.

 

The Dalish camp is just where Eshara said it would be, but the devastation is worse than anyone might have expected. A dozen ransacked aravels encircle a central fire pit. Broken crockery and overturned benches speak of the struggle here. Broken chests spill their contents into the mud, and a ruined stew has boiled dry over a long-dead fire.

 

{GM note: searching the camp will require a perception test. If you want to search the camp, please say so and post your roll.}

 

It has been raining all day and water drips from sad, fading leaves. The ground is muddy, and churned by many feet, but a palm-sized, rose-colored stone glitters beside an overturned bench. It sparkles in the fading light as if lit from within.

 

But perhaps the most striking feature of the clearing is that it contains Etienne, flanked by two templars.

 

"Ah," said the one. "Your friends have arrived, so you won't need us anymore. Be safe, Etienne, and Maker go with you."

[Mahumia]

It had been a tough morning again for Bartha, a pattern that would probably stay until they would get access again to a warm bed and proper lodgings. She had made good work with the laundry the previous day: at least the enemies would not smell her coming by the odor of foul clothes. Nonetheless, she had found out that doing so in a cold river was far from comfortable, and to make it worse: the clothing would hardly dry up. Finding a bunch of frozen solid shirts in the morning was everything but a boost for her mood. At least she had managed to get the stains of blood out of them.

 

Quietly she had followed the rest of the group to their next destination. The sparkle of hope she had that they would find the Dalish in good conditions was quenched as soon as they got the camp in sight. 'Maker's balls, what has happened here?' Her heart dropped when she looked at the devastation, but a quick look around didn't reveal any casualties to her. Then she spotted the lone mage and his guards. "Etienne!" She exclaimed. Somehow she felt an urge to run over to him and give him a good hug. When she had already started running over to him, she quickly reminded herself that doing such would be mostly inappropriate... Bartha came to an abrupt halt in front of the mage, actually almost slipping in the wet mud. "Maker, finally a bit of good news. It's good to see you again. You will join us again, right? Say you will, please." 'Yup, I'm rambling again...'

[ChachiBobinks]

"Oh, but we were just getting to the good part!" His expression fell. Surely they had been enjoying his energetic retelling of the moment when he found a book written in ancient elvhen that described the very history of the aravels. It would have been far more compelling of a story had he gone into what he found not, well, how. 

 

He frowned at the two of them, blue eyes bouncing between Haghren and Folistis, as if either would suddenly offer to stay and let him continue. But they did not, and he pushed his new mask further up his nose. "Well. No appreciation for the pursuit of knowledge. I see."

 

He made for an interesting sight, indeed - the boldly Orlesian mage in fancy clothes, standing among rubble. In one hand, he held a broken cup. In the other, a ball of fabric. Both likely meant nothing at all, but he was fascinated by the whole of it. "Best you be off, then. I will be in good hands, returned to my friends," he finally added, nodding to the Templars as they made their way off, heads shaking. "I've work to do and- RIGHT, I've not even said hello! How silly of me!" He was, of course, overjoyed to see the lot of them again. Part of him had thought that his removal would be permanent. One never really knew, what with how volatile permissions could be. One day he was the Golden Child, trusted and blessed by the Chantry and Circle alike. The next? Well, the errand boy. Or the one locked away in the Tower again.

 

Bartha dashed up to him and his face broke with a smile. Well, the Templars weren't looking, were they? Plus she was falling. So it was helpful. He pulled her into his arms. "Bartha! By the Maker, you.... and by Andraste's grace, I... don't recognize half of you!"

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest's breath caught in a gasp when she saw the state of the Dalish camp. Certainly she had known there was peril, but she hadn't expected this level of devastation. On the positive side, at least she didn't see any obvious sign of corpses strewn around, which had been her greatest fear for what they would find. What they did find looked nearly as bad, though. She could only pray the people had fled. Even so, she had trouble imagining how they could have survived an attack that had caused so much damage to their campsite and possessions.

 

She started to feel lightheaded, and she was worried her knees would buckle. No, that won't help, she told herself, breathing carefully in and out. You can't help anyone if you faint.

 

"Maker protect them," Tempest murmured. "Maker forgive us if we are too late."

 

She decided the most productive thing she could do at present, aside from the brief prayer, was to search for any clues about exactly what had happened or the whereabouts of the clan, since she didn't see any dead.

 

First, though, there was a comrade to welcome back. Tempest's heart lifted with joy and relief at finding Etienne safe and well. When he was taken, she had feared he might never be freed again.

 

"Etienne..." she enthused inarticulately. When he'd released Bartha from his embrace - and after a cautious look to ensure the templars were paying her no mind - Tempest hugged the younger mage too. "We were so worried for you! It is wonderful to see you again, and looking so well!"

 

 

 

(Tempest rolls 11 for Perception.)

[Lorien19]

Laurelin wasn't prepared for the sight they encountered at the Dalish camp.Everything appeared to be ransacked,destroyed.
She was devastated to see her worst fears confirmed,however she didn't cease to hope that hopefully in some miraculous way,the clan had escaped.
She took a moment, to realise what in the dread wolf's name was going on,but everything pointed to the conclusion that the clan was forced to abandon the camp for one reason or the other,the fact that they didn't appear to be any bodies around was strangely comforting.
But I'm all this chaos,she didn't fail to notice the return flight one of her companions.Etienne the Orlesian mage was back,a friendly family among this darkness was a pleasant sight for sure even if he was accompanied by templars .
Laurelin smirked at him,avoiding speaking or making her presence known to his armed escorts.

[obsessedwjpn]

Mercuriel moved to stand behind Laurelin. He was aware of the Templars present and the ravaged site of the Dalish camp didn't help matters. He felt very uneasy. He placed a cautious hand on Laurelin's shoulder and breathed against her ear.

 

"Don't worry. We'll figure out what happened here and help as best we can." 

 

He removed his hand and kissed the back of her head gently before moving to look at the male mage present. Mercuriel remembered him from before but the two hadn't really spoken with one another much. Mercuriel did not address the man, seeing the current company of the two Templars, but rather began surveying the wrecked area. Dog followed on his heels.

[BFace]

The first thing Tessa saw was the utter destruction of the campsite, even in the dusk. The second thing was what she didn’t see-bodies. She remembered the Fuldor’s, and tried to feel hopeful that the elves had gotten away from whatever ransacked this place.

 

She wasn’t entirely successful, but her expression cleared some as she saw Etienne, looking incongruously out of place. At the group’s approach, Tess heard one of the templars with the mage begin to take their leave.

 

As Bartha and Tempest greeted their friend, Tess spoke to the templars. “He’s under our protection now. We’ll do our best to see him safely back into Vintiver when we’re finished. Maker go with you.”

 

Turning toward Etienne, she smiled, but stood back, letting everyone else greet their friend.  It had only been a couple of days, but it felt much longer.  Tess had a feeling that they all would need this small bit of joy in the reappearance of their friend before everything was said and done.

[Mahumia]

Bartha gave Etienne a hug nonetheless, as she ended up in his arms anyway. It was good to see him again, after he had been taken away all so sudden, without the chance for them to say their farewells. His mentioning of the group sobered her excitement a bit though: he would most likely notice the absence of Rael soon, and she didn't want to be the bearer of bad news... not yet. She did her best to smile and released him from her embrace. "Thank you for catching me. And welcome back."

 

She stepped back to give the rest also the opportunity to greet Etienne. Tessa was speaking with the templars, which gave her an idea. "Greetings sers. You must have had a better map of this forest than we have, for we almost got lost, even with a guide." She smiled invitingly to the templars. "Nice to meet you though, and thank you for bringing the mage all the way here. May I ask: are you stationed at Vintiver, or somewhere else?"

[berelinde]

{Just chiming in to say that we can't go on until Rhys, Fabian, and Beldin have their turn. Replying to questions is fine, but let's hold off on anything more than a quick back-and-forth until the others go.}

[BFace]

{This should actually have been posted earlier, but this video game came out, and I got all sucked into that...you know how it is. It takes place walking *to* the Dalish camp. }

 

They're Talking About Us

 

Spoiler

 

Tessa walked by herself for a bit, thinking about her recent conversation with Mercuriel.  The day was chilly and she was sure it was going to rain again, but that didn’t bother her too badly. She’d always liked rainy days. The smell of the rain and wet leaves was soothing. She’d been thinking about Mercuriel’s questions.  He was being playful, she knew, but she wondered if she should maybe warn Beldin.

 

She jogged a few yards to catch him up, then slowed to match his pace.  “Hallo, Beldin. Find any new potential pets on your walk so far today?”

 

"I saw a disgruntled fox earlier," he said cheerfully. "Will that do? I'm told they're playful when they aren't getting dripped on."

 

Playfully appearing to consider it, she replied, “Well, they’re small, but the fur might help with heat.”

 

He sighed in mock remorse. "In Logerwold, people sometimes keep foxes like dogs," he said. "They're clever and loyal, believe it or not, and as I said, quite playful. But sometimes, they hide things, and that gets annoying. But since you bring it up, I have to say it. If you should ever discover that sharing your tent with a hairy and quite possibly smelly barbarian is unwelcome, you've only to say the word. I have slept out of doors before."

 

“You’re hardly a barbarian. I’ve seen you use utensils.” She wrinkled her nose before going on. “And you’re always welcome to my tent, Beldin. Although, I did want to tell you about a...something of an interesting conversation I had with Mercuriel.” 

 

"Oh?" His question was almost a snort. "He was playing the big brother, aye? If so, I'll not fault him for it. I mean, we both know you can look after yourself, but a friend always looks after his own."

 

“More like, he wanted to gossip. He seemed less concerned with my virtue, than with any details I felt like providing.” She snorted, before quickly adding, “Not that I was able to discourage him!”

 

Beldin's face froze somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

 

"Details?" he chuckled. "As if you'd ever... er... Well, I trust you squelched that rumor soon enough. You're a kind woman, Tess. You don't deserve that kind of slander."

 

Tessa made a face, then chuckled. “I...well, I actually told him it was none of his business. I just...you shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of commentary either.”

 

He grew almost serious for a moment, but shook his head. "Never fear about that," he said. "It's human... elven?... nature to assume. They don't know us. I don't mind if he's protective of your virtue, but I'm less eager to hear that he's casting you as an instigator. I've half a mind to champion your honor. I'd do it, but we've enough things after our blood without shedding more over something I could settle with a 'Lay off, hear?'"

 

Tilting her head to look at him, she smiled slightly, touched at his outburst. “I appreciate the sentiment, Beldin, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Besides,” she added, as she studied a spot in front her, “you’re right. They don’t know us.”

 

She smirked then, without looking at him. “And who said he thought I was the instigator?”

 

His smile lasted only until her last sentence. 

 

"Congratulations on the overturning of your rape conviction!" Philomena's greeting resounded through his skull. He turned away.

 

"I suppose that's fair," he said, his voice neutral. "You did warn me that our companions might talk."

 

At his change in tone, Tessa turned to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her. “It’s only as fair as the thought that I would...Beldin, you already said it. They don’t know us. I…” She blinked and swallowed before going on. “I trust you, don’t doubt that. Aye?” She didn’t know if he had any idea what she’d just given him, but it didn’t matter, he needed to know.

 

He walked in silence for a few paces, processing what she had said. She knew nothing of him beyond what he'd said in the courtroom. What she'd learned when they spoke outside Vintiver's sad, pathetic brothel. What she discovered when she woke in his embrace. He smiled shyly, and glanced around, checking to be sure that all of their companions were gazing elsewhere, then reached out until his hand brushed hers. They were both wearing gauntlets, but she'd feel it. Slowly, gently, he moved his hand toward her until their fingers aligned, then deliberately laced his through hers.

 

"I don't," he said. "Don't you doubt me, either."

 

Almost without thinking about it, she curled her fingers through his, and gave him a slow but brilliant smile.  “I don’t.”

 

Warmth filled his heart like sunrise over blighted fields, but it wasn't quite the moment for romance, unless it was the quiet, everyday kind that turned drudgery into light and made burdens suddenly weightless.

 

"So," he ventured, "since maybe we'll be walking a bit, maybe we should talk, aye? Who gave you that sword?"

 

Feeling warm all the way through for the first time since she woke, she carried her smile along. She knew he wasn’t talking about the sword on her back but her first sword. She’d never mentioned that to anyone at all, but him, and she was vaguely surprised that she didn’t mind that.

 

“A templar in Lothering’s Chantry,” she began. “Ser Kelveth. I...I spent a lot of time around the Chantry, either reading everything I could lay hands on, or having a go with a stick at the one practice dummy they had out back.” 

 

"Your childhood sounds like mine," he said, still smiling. "It was a refuge. My family had lands, but as the youngest, I'd never have a chance at any of it. I was off to the Chantry with a prayer that I'd become an affirmed brother, but it wasn't the life for me. I wanted to become a templar, once upon a time. It was a ridiculous and romantic dream."

 

“I thought about becoming a sister, for about 10 minutes,” she said. “Then Ser Kelveth gave me a beat up longsword and I started asking questions about being a templar, believe it or not. I...I thought, for a long time, that the Order was the Maker’s will for me.”

 

"Is it?" Beldin asked gently. "That's a profound thing to feel, the Maker's will. Aye, things change, and us along with them, but to feel that... it has to be something special. In my case, I never felt quite like that. I wanted to become a templar because I didn't want to be a brother, not because the Maker told me I did. In my heart, the Maker whispered, but he said 'Serve me,' not 'Take up my shield.' I was choosing for my own will, not His. But maybe that sounds like rubbish."

 

“No, it doesn’t sound like rubbish, Beldin,” Tess was still smiling a bit. “And you’ll notice that I’ve neither shield nor flaming sword, so maybe I have chosen for my own will, as well.” She looked thoughtful. “Although, I do wonder about all the mages I seem to be surrounding myself with.” 

 

Shaking herself out of her bit of reverie, she looked sideways at him. “So, what changed your mind?”

 

At that, he did snort. "A priest with an axe," he said. "I fell. No, it was more than that. I was caught in a mudslide, and my horse and I fell together. My horse died, and her rib pierced my thigh, and my knee was twisted almost beyond mending, but my leg never broke. Some crofters, my brother's tenants, found me, and brought me back to Tor Adley. Gran wanted to wait, to see what would come of it once the swelling was down, but my brother sent for the priest. She said that the leg must come off, that the wound left by the mare's rib was my thigh bone poking out through the muscle, and that I'd never walk again. We all knew she was lying, even Martin, my brother, but she was the priest, and she spoke the Maker's will. Martin would have it done at once, but Gran made him wait, and smuggled me out during the night. It was the priest's lie that turned me against her, and against a vocation as a templar. I can't serve that. I thought I might, for a while, but the lie ran deep. I'll serve the Maker, but I'll do it in my own way."

 

Letting the image of a dark haired templar run through her mind before she smoothed the scowl from her countenance, she sighed. “I think, Bel, that for people like us, that’s maybe the best way to serve the Maker.” She looked over at him. “And maybe remember that they’re not all completely self-serving. Kelveth was, maybe the...one of the best men I’ve ever met.  But, no, not all of them are.”

 

She paused for a moment, thinking. “Is it wrong, maybe, to be a little glad that your Gran smuggled you away?”

 

His smile returned. "I give thanks for that every day," he said. "Gran's... you'd like her. She's tiny, doesn't even come up to my chest, but Maker, what a spirit she has! But aye, Gran followed her own lights, and always did, and I'm grateful. I've had a good life, despite it all, maybe because of it all. She could not have known what she was doing, sending me off on that cart, and I know it broke her heart, but it was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. My father was a despicable scoundrel, but once I was on my own, I found a new father, and he taught me what it should be, and that's probably more gushing than you need for one morning. But, to make a long story short, it all happens for a reason, and that's the way of it."

 

Chuckling, Tessa nodded. “I believe that, Beldin-that there’s a reason behind everything. For everything in my life that I’d rather not have dealt with, something...better suited came after. That’s not a bad way, really.” She smiled shyly at him before going on, “I have to say I’m content with my life.”

 

He squeezed her hand, and then released it.

 

"Something better always happens next," he said. "But sometimes, it takes a while. Also, how much intimidation should I apply to Mercuriel? It might be entertaining."

 

“Some, certainly,” she said, snorting with humor. “If only to see his face. I don’t truly care what they think we do or do not when we’re alone. They don’t know us.” 

 

He considered that for a moment.

 

"They might not," he said, "but maybe it's time 'they' learned," he said. "I don't hear anyone else suggesting anything untoward, so maybe it's time a certain someone learned that we aren't less respectful of our friends than he is. I have no idea how that will work out at the moment, but I'll trust in providence for guidance. At the very least, it might provide entertainment."

 

Tessa nodded slowly. “No, you’re right, really. And it may do him some good to learn a bit about boundaries, maybe. Although,” she smiled good-naturedly, “I get the distinct feeling that if either of us were to turn around, we would see Tempest smiling benevolently at us.” 

 

"Do you think so?" Beldin said, grinning stupidly and blushing to the roots of his hair. "That's... unexpected."

 

“Not really, if you think about it, Bel.” Tessa chuckled at his discomfiture. “She likes the people she cares about to be happy.”

 

At that, he had nothing constructive to add, so he just held her hand and tried not to screw it up. At least until they rounded the bend and they'd be within sight of the others again. It was too soon for declarations, after all. But that didn't stop him from thinking it, or from rehearsing what he'd say to Mercuriel, should the opportunity arise. By the Void, he'd acquit himself of disrespect, that was certain.

 

[berelinde]

Beldin waited for the others to finish greeting Etienne before gripping the younger man's forearm and thumping his back.

 

"Glad to see you, Etienne!" he said, grinning. "Thought you'd be holed up in the Chantry 'til spring. Pity about the rain."

 

The mage's return made him happier than he'd been since waking up with his arms around Tessa. He was not quite willing to trust magic in the hands of the reckless, but he found it easy to trust it in Etienne's. The young scholar might not know how to barter or how to repair a wagon wheel, but there was a steadiness amid his eagerness that reassured him.

[berelinde]

Bedtime for the Dorks

 

Spoiler

The rain was less now, but it still rolled off the fading leaves in large, gritty droplets. The Dalish aravels faced inward toward a long-dead central campfire, but all were damaged and most were overturned. Benches were strewn about, knocked down by some terrible, if small, battle. As Eshara said, the Dalish were taken at unawares as they ate dinner, and bowls and broken crockery are strewn everywhere.

 

Beldin looked around.

 

"Churned mud," he said. "Drowned fire, empty wagons. Smells like a battlefield, but there's no bodies, no weapons. Not even a stray arrow."

 

"Probably best not to disturb any more than we need to," Beldin said, unslinging his pack.

 

Tessa looked around slowly, frowning, as she dropped her pack at her feet. “That’s a good idea, I think.”

 

He crouched by the fire pit and poked in the muddy ashes.

 

Still looking around, Tess said, “While you’re over there, maybe you could start a fire.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked around the tops of the aravels and the sky. “I think these wagons will keep us from being too easy to spot, and we could use the light to check the ground before we set up our tents.”

 

"Good idea," he agreed. A quarter hour later, he still had not managed to get the wet wood to light, but a sheepish word to Laurelin soon solved that dilemma. A quarter hour after that, their tent was up.

 

Tessa shoved her wet hair off her forehead, again, as she stood eyeballing the tent. “I don’t know how you feel about it, Beldin, but if we’re all settling in, I would really like to be dry.” She hoped that she didn’t sound like she was pleading. Too much.

 

"I could not agree more," he said. His eyes began to crease in a grin, but he schooled his expression into one more appropriate for the site of an ambush. He folded the flap onto the top of the tent while she kicked a few loose branches out of the way. Once inside, he eyed the ground and said, "I don't wish to presume, but if we're going to stay dry, we might want to put something down to block the damp."

 

He pulled his blanket out of his pack. "The wool's spun in grease. No wet backsides."

 

What he said made sense to Tessa. And she really wanted to sleep dry. “I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t say this to anyone but you and maybe Tempest, but if I can sleep dry tonight, we can share a blanket, Beldin.” She smirked at him, to try to hide her nervousness.

"Just... maybe I'd better step outside while you get comfortable," he said. She'd been a mercenary. She would have seen enough shirt-and-small-clothes-clad men to render one more insignificant, but he could hardly claim the same familiarity with female companions.

 

Tess opened her mouth to ask what he meant, then she closed it as understanding hit her, and she was glad of the dark. “I’ll be quick.” She looked sharply toward him, hearing his mail rustle. “Are you going to want help with your mail, first though?”

 

"Right," he said. "Thanks."

 

He bent at the waist and wiggled his shoulders, but the metal links clung to the wet wool of his tunic. 

 

Tess reached over and grabbed the hem of his chainmail and yanked it down until it was over his shoulder blades, letting it fall from him in a hissing heap of links.

 

"You're a gem, Tess," he said. The joking wink he shot her was lost in the darkness, but it was just as well.

 

With a smile in her voice, she said, “I know, Ser Ox. Now, out, you. I’ll be quick.”

 

Once he’d exited the tent, and let the flap fall in his wake, Tess yanked her laces free, cursing wet leather the entire time.  As she undid buckles and dropped pieces into a neat pile out of the way, she tried not to think about sleeping so close to Beldin. She pulled her boots off, and stepped out of her leggings and smalls. She rummaged in her bag until she pulled out her spare shirt and dry smalls.  She pulled her sodden shirt off over her head.  After adding them to the neat pile of her clothing Tess donned her dry things, raised her hands to her hair, then stopped. He didn’t have to stand out in the rain for that part.

 

She opened the flap to let him know she was done, and moved to sit on the edge of the blanket to start slowly undoing the first of the multiple braids she always wore.

 

The rain had slowed almost to stopping, but it still trickled down the back of his tunic. He was grateful indeed when Tessa called him back inside. He stripped off his boots, hopping from one foot to the other, then undid the fastening that kept his tunic closed. That went the way of the chainmail. He paused to fold it before he set it on top of the metal.

 

Why did he bother? he wondered. He was just going to wash it in the morning. But old habits died hard. He undid the drawstring of his pants and slid them off over his feet, staggering only slightly when his heel caught in the wool. 

 

It would not do. Yes, the sodden, icy tunic was off, but his shirt was just as wet, and his smalls. They were sharing a blanket to stay warm and dry. He would be doing her no favors by bringing his own blighted raincloud, too. And it was not as if she had not seen a naked man before. He was neither vain nor delusional enough to think that his particular gifts were all that interesting. Maker's breath, she'd traveled with Rhys for a year, and he was far svelter and more graceful than him. He pulled off both shirt and under-breeches and fished clean ones out of his pack. At least he would not offend her with the smell of wet... well, wet Beldin.

 

The Maker himself could probably not get her to admit it, but she couldn’t help but watch as he shed his gear.  The light from the fire made him only a shadow to her, and she alternated between smiling to herself and chastising herself for staring, her braids forgotten for the moment.  As he pulled off his shirt, however, Tess realized what he was doing and suddenly shifted her gaze to her bare feet.

 

"Tess?" he said gently, sitting on the blanket beside her. He looked up and saw the firelight playing against the canvas. "Ah. Sorry about that. I didn't think you wanted soggy linens."

 

“I, um. Don’t apologize. I just thought you’d want what privacy I could give you while you changed.” She was, again, glad for the dark that hid her blush.

 

His glance lighted upon her hands, and the tiny threads she held in them, the same threads that secured her braids.

 

"It's been a long day," he said. "Can I give you a hand with that?"

 

Tessa had always bound her hair in random ways, more as a way to keep it out of her face than out of any concern for how it looked, but she had been a child the last time someone else helped her with it. She hesitated for only a moment, though, because if she were honest with herself, and she generally tried to be, she wondered how it would feel to have Beldin’s hands in her hair. “Yes. If you promise not to pull my hair too much. It would still be damp in the morning if I don’t take them out to dry.”

 

"Aye," he said quietly, shifting to sit a little behind her. "And you shouldn't sleep with a wet head. I promise I'll be gentle."

 

And he was. He unknotted the thread around each braid and held the base before smoothing the strands into sleekness. It was no mystery to him. He had braided his brothers' hair many times, as well as the manes of the horses bound for market, but her hair was silkier than either, and it slid between his fingers like the water that kissed it. The light was too dim to catch the shine, but he remembered the cart ride to Vintiver, and the way the moon turned her hair to liquid jet, and he smiled, glad of the dimness that hid his contentment.

 

As he turned his attention to her hair, she was working on the other side of her head. Very quickly, though, she found herself just enjoying the sensation. True to his word, he was gentle. She found herself wanting to lean into his hands, and smiled into the darkness before sighing with contentment.

 

When the last braid was untied, he could not hold back the sigh, but he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her shoulders. He won/lost, but only just. Their journey together was only just beginning. They would find the limits of their common ground as the Maker willed it. For now, the closeness they shared was enough.

 

After Beldin had finished with her hair, Tess vigorously ran her hands through it and breathed deep. Before she could curse her recklessness, she asked, “If I asked you for something that... You wouldn’t agree to something just to humor me, would you? I mean, if I asked you something you weren’t comfortable with, I could count on you to tell me, yes?” Tessa, you are an idiot. An idiot who bumbles, she thought to herself.

 

"I did promise to never say anything just because you wanted to hear it," he said, a corner of his mouth lifting in its usual wry grin. "And I promised you honesty. Ask."

 

“The other night. When I...dreamt badly...I...well, I was wondering…” Maker don’t let me burst into flames, she thought.

 

He never said a word. He simply folded her into his embrace and eased them both onto the bedroll, pulling her blanket across them both.

 

"Sleep well, Tess," he whispered into her hair.

[Kerridwynn]

Rhys blinked in surprise at the destruction in the Dalish camp.  Then blinked again at the appearance of a couple of templars and one of the fanciest mages he'd ever seen.  Was that a mask?  These lowlanders were exceedingly odd at times.  

 

He wandered away from the group while everyone was greeting the apparently prodigal mage.  He studied the ground and looked over the destroyed aravels with a critical eye.  He also glanced around the perimeter of the destroyed camp, concerned that whoever or whatever had wreaked such havoc on a Dalish might still be in the area.  The vision of his mercenary group massacred danced fleetingly behind his eyes and he shuddered.  

"Korth, strengthen our souls.  Enable us to fight this menace," he prayed silently.  

 

(Rhys rolls an 18 perception.)

[berelinde]

Tempest's perception test yielded a pinkish stone, its surface etched deeply with graceful runes. It was found amid the wreckage of an aravel. That aravel and others appear to have been broken into, but valuables - mirrors, tools, clothing - lie strewn in the mud.

 

Beldin's perception test revealed several patches of darker earth that smell of old blood. A few are large enough to account for an entire elf, but there are no bodies.

 

Rhys's perception test revealed tracks heading toward the souteast. It appears as if a large group of elves - more than twenty - were marched and/or dragged in this direction. Some tracks are clear and purposeful, as if the owner were in possession of full motor control. Other tracks are obvious drag marks, as if a large, heavy object were dragged through the mud. The tracks are blurry from days of rain, but they are clear enough to tell that the owner was elven, and that they were laid down *before* the rain became heavy. With a high roll like that, I'm going to assume doubles and give you one additional piece of information: all the tracks are elven.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest knelt to pick up the... well, she wasn't quite sure what she had found, but it looked important. Clearly the motive for the attack on the campsite wasn't robbery, given what was left behind. Tempest suspected, though, that this stone was more than a mere trinket. She had no idea what the runes meant, but they appeared to be significant, whether or not the object was related to the present situation. 

 

She gently rubbed the dirt from the stone's surface with her thumb. Although the stone was unfamiliar to Tempest, maybe the Dalish in the group would recognize what it was.

 

"Laurelin or Mercuriel, have you ever seen something like this?" Tempest asked, unsure how commonplace it was among their people but figuring it was worth a try.