The First Blight: Curse of Dumat [RP/Closed]

[duckflesh]

Alrik drummed his heavy fingers on the table, watching after Ulrin and Diocles as they left, a troubled expression on his face.

"Please," he said to Jarrik, "Do not be concern. Are all tired. After rest, will all... be calm. Behave with more dignity."

The hard look in his eyes suggested that this course of action was not optional. He picked up a bottle of mead and refilled Jarrik's cup.

"You have actual experience! Nice change. Hope you survive joining. Many die." He shrugged. "Still, very good for fight Darkspawn. Feel them before they feel you. Usually."

 

[ShadowFolk]

"I-"

Sulahn'nehn was lost and it quite visibly showed on her face. Those were rather big words that she may have heard at some point, but never all at once. It was overwhelming and it left her piecing together what the archer meant. It slowly dawned on her and her lips formed an 'oh'.

Her lips curled in a knowing smile as she followed Diocles out, murmuring promises.

 

[Rosen2012]

The rogue returned to his room and looked over the bed he was to sleep in. He ran his hand over the sheets and pressed down on the mattress. It was much nicer than the inns they stayed in or the barracks. And it was leagues above what he'd slept in during his days as a slave. Certainly the other elves here were sleeping in horrid conditions. Ulrin pulled most of the sheets off the bed before resting on top with a sigh.

 

[Slycne]

Jarrik accepted the mead, a quaint brew lacking in subtlety but this many drinks in it didn't particularly matter.

"What is the joining? Sounds like some kind of rite of combat."

 

[duckflesh]

He shook his head.

"No-- is just ceremony. Drink from cup of spawn blood, lyrium, maybe other things."

Often this information was hidden from new recruits, but Alrik got the feeling that this man could be convinced to go through with it either way.

"No combat rite needed-- not so picky. Not sure if elves ever fought day in lives before joining. Fight good enough, though. Maybe anyone who can survive joining naturally pretty good at fight? Hard to say."

 

[Cinnonym]

Ghil scowled, snapping at Alrik in Alamarri, "I seem to remember it quite differently."

 

[duckflesh]

Alrik laughed, shrugging. "If it had been just you, we probably would have been straight with you," he said in Alamarri. "But when dealing with a mob, it is often better to lie."

 

[Slycne]

"Heh, truth be told it doesn't sound like the worst I've drunk 'fore."

The nervous smirk did little to hide that all the pieces had finally come together despite all the drinks.

"Speaking of swill, this Tevinter wine is nearly as sour as an Atlus's disposition."

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles smiled as he closed the door of his room behind the pair. Not that he had any reason to suspect the room was his, but he had claimed it by the lack of pretty dresses or mage-dresses.

"I doubt that deception was successful or even necessary, but I do like making the appearance of trying to keep appearances. I'm certain the others are well aware of our mutual affection; Thaedrin suspected it pre-emptively and Ulrin seems ready to stab me. .. I mean, even more than before."

 

[Cinnonym]

The barbarian woman snorted, pushing her chair back to stand. "You should start running," she said to Jarrik in Tevene, clapping him firmly on the shoulder, "before you no longer can."

She took the entire decanter with her when she left, one of the full ones from the elves' end of the table. If she was going to take a bath, she may as well soak drunkenly for a time.

 

[duckflesh]

Alrik sighed, watching her go.

"No worry. Is just angry because we held her down and poured blood down throat against her will. We not do that with you-- Thaedrin not have upper-body strength for it."

 

[ShadowFolk]

Sulahn'nehn nodded, placing her stolen knife on the dresser. "I must admit, I do not think I have been entirely subtle about it. Perhaps with some more practice the others will actually believe I mean to simply pay you a visit."

The elf crossed back to Diocles, placing her hands on his chest and standing on the tips of her toes to kiss his chin. "I believe Ulrin wishes to bring harm to every human, so do not feel so- Just a moment. What do you mean preemptively? Do you often find yourself in the company of elves?"

 

[Slycne]

"I'm going to need 'nother drink."

It was the only thing he could think to say, hoping that perhaps he'd heard incorrectly. Even the best tales of glory and valor had their darker elements bubbling below the surface, but none so dark as this.

 

[FortyThree]

"Ah.."

Diocles frowned momemtarily. What was the best way to explain this? Several probable lies came to mind, but they would be temporary salves, and he was becoming increasingly fond of Sul. Perhaps honesty. He looked down into her eyes, sighing slightly. Yes. Honesty.

"I, somewhat frequently, find myself in company. For a night. And I happened to be speaking of you, positively, in his presence."

 

[ShadowFolk]

Of course. It seemed to be a pass time across all of Tevinter to bed as many people as one could in a short span of time. Not that the elf herself had much room to speak on that matter, except here it was not against her will. Sulahn'nehn watched Diocles' changing expression and was relieved to hear what sounded like him spitting out the truth.

It was her turn to think to herself before she spoke up, keeping eye contact with him. "I have no right to be upset. As you said, the past is beyond our reach. If you can look passed my own, it is only right that I do the same for you. If we are being honest, I must say I hope there are, hm, no others... Is that too bold?"

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles hesitated only briefly before responding.

"It's not too bold, it's completely reasonable. You'll have my fidelity."

He was smiling now, she had taken that quite well. And he never had to worry about hiding the truth. Honesty was a potent sort of manipulation. He'd have to keep using it.

"Reciprocation is implied, of course."

 

[ShadowFolk]

Sulahn'nehn could hardly believe what she was hearing. A human. The kindest and sweetest man she'd ever met. Just promised faithfulness. To her. The ecstatic elf hardly got out her agreement before she pulled Diocles into a tight embrace. "I am yours, I swear it."

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles grinned, returned the embrace and kissed the little mage before pulling back briefly. He couldn't resist sneaking in one last jest.

"Let us say we're courting, or you can say I am yours. I'm afraid, though, if I claim ownership of you Ulrin will -definitely- attempt to kill me."

 

[ShadowFolk]

Always with the jokes. She shook her head, leading him to the bed they would share. "Most certainly. But, I promise he'll never get the chance to lay a hand on you. You, however..." Sulahn'nehn took the archer's hands and guided them to the clasps of her dress.

 

[Cinnonym]

Constable Davinius, meanwhile, stood at the window of his quarters and looked out over the ruin of Antiva City with an empty, distant gaze. He had one foot in the Fade, and his attention was fixed on the dark crags and green sky of the spirit world. Under his feet, tiles formed; it was old habit to make the scene around him into something familiar, to anchor himself. One could walk an island all day without ever moving, but the landmarks he created for himself promised progression through the vastness.

It was Commander of the Grey Trajan Vorenus that he searched for, and at this late hour he hoped that the man would be asleep. The hallway of his father?s manor crumbled away when he entered the dreams he sought, and what was before him instead was the mass of Darkspawn huddled in the cave in worship of the great beast Dumat. Thaedrin?s jaw tightened at the sight of the dragon God. Archdemon, they called him. No more worthy of praise than his left boot.

The serenity with which Trajan regarded the song of Dumat filled him with unease.

?Commander, I must report.?