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

[duckflesh]

Alrik appeared on deck again, approaching the group. He scanned their faces for signs of sedition, but for once their conversation seemed mellow enough. Still, he gestured at the night sky.

"Ship crew will need help very early tomorrow, so all should get to bed now."

He leaned against the rail, waiting for them to move on; it wasn't a suggestion.

 

[Cinnonym]

Ghil frowned at the big man; she still held a bitterness towards him for striking her other elven friend. The poor thing had bones like twigs made of glass. She nodded gruffly towards Jarrik and Ulrin, turning for the stairs.

"For later, then."

She was the first of the three to go below deck, and found the same room of hammocks in which Sulahn'nehn was already resting. With a careful hand, she picked up a lock of the elf girl's hair to inspect the swollen skin beneath. The flesh was already turning a violent violet. Lips pursed, she found one of the suspended pockets nearby and tried to get into it without falling back out for a good half hour.

 

[Rosen2012]

Ulrin did his best to keep his contempt for the male barbarian out of his eyes. He turned from the railing and followed Ghil, only thinking as he entered bellow the deck that he'd be bunking with Diocles and Jarrik without a doubt. He didn't know much about the Rivaini, but hopefully he would not incessantly talk like Diocles. On that note he hoped Diocles didn't talk at all while they slept.

He found the room set a side for them and climbed into a hammock closest to the door. The elf did not believe he'd be sleeping much, and he did not want to be far from it if Sulahn'nehn needed him. If she even had the strength to carry out her plan tonight. Surly on the boat was not the best place for it, but she still may call on him to speak again. He rolled over with his back facing the room and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long night.

 

[FortyThree]

As the night grew dark and others began to enter the fade, Diocles stalked the waking world. Kukri sharpened and in hand, he made his way through the corridors quietly, seeking Alrik. He would show the barbarian just how unfair it was to teach lessons with violence. He would make sure Alrik never forgot.

By carving the message into his skin, if necessary.

 

[Cinnonym]

Thaedrin was awake as well and, for very possibly the first time in history, for more innocent reasons than Diocles. He slept little; in his dreams, as in his wakefulness, he ruled the material of the Fade and those resting within it. The stimulus was neverending, and so why waste his hours prone and half-aware? Even now, he had stood forward of the mast with his eyes fixed on green skies and black crags to search for magi among the islands. There were faint lights like distant candles on the shore, and he?d need to be nearer to influence them as strongly as he liked.

No matter. That would come soon enough.

On his path back to his cabin, he passed Diocles against a door in the dimness. He recognized noise, but lacked the interest to investigate. The peace of a black sleep would be welcome. ?If you?re trying to get at the cabin boys, Komnenos, you?ve got the wrong door.?

He paused, just a step beyond him. Something hadn?t seemed right. When he looked again, he saw the kukri and tensed, head tilting. ?...What are you doing...?

 

[FortyThree]

"I.."

Diocles' mind raced to find a suitable lie. Thaedrin was a bastard, but he was clever. Still, there was no legitimate reason to be caught up in the middle of the night, holding a military knife. He threw on an unconvincing grin, twirling the blade into its sheath in a second.

"You caught me. Was going to scratch up the wood a little, trying to convince Ulrin the ship is haunted. He's a bit superstitious, I couldn't resist the prank."

 

[Cinnonym]

"Try throwing him overboard, he'd appreciate it more."

The Constable eyed him, expression just as stern as ever. He knew whose door it was, he wasn't a fool. Whatever this was, it rubbed him the wrong way. He held out a hand expectantly, gesturing with a twitch of his fingers, "Give it to me. Get back to bed."

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles eyed the mage for a moment. He couldn't say no, it would be remarkably suspicious. And he couldn't go through with it now.. Or could he? He had plenty of knives, after all. Even another beautiful kukri. He nodded, stepping over to the Constable and handing him the weapon, even presenting it handle-first, blade in his hand.

"Of course, Constable."

He turned to leave, fully intending to circle back around in a few minutes time.

 

[Cinnonym]

Thaedrin wasn't going anywhere, that was obvious; he placed his other hand against the door, regarding it quietly for a moment before he turned his attention back to the retreating archer.

"And the rest of them."

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles grit his teeth for a moment before turning back to his superior, speaking softly.

"Sir, surely there's no sense leaving me unarmed yet again. Besides, I doubt you could even safely carry all the blades I keep on my person. Perhaps we should both simply retire?"

 

[Cinnonym]

"I'm well aware of your disrespect for authority figures, Komnenos, but you've always behaved professionally in the field--a quality that no doubt prevents the Commander from taking your head from your shoulders. You have no fear for my capacity for punishment. Very well, I respect that, though I may soon prove you wrong. But you ought fear Alrik. The last brigand you faced destroyed nearly every organ that you own. This one has twice the ability. So, I'll take your knives, and you'll thank me kindly."

The kukri felt foreign in his hand, but he was glad to be holding it. His empty fingers flexed expectantly.

"I think you had best consider whether skulking about like a merchant lord's assassin on this ship is like to get you murdered by some suspicious crewmen."

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles paused again. He was losing, there was no way out. Every instinct screamed for him to accept Thaedrin's mercy and acquiesce. Every instinct but anger. His eyes narrowed. He made no move to draw a weapon, or to remove his sheaths. Instead his arms crossed. Not a compliant gesture, but neither was it a violent one.

"Blight you, Thaedrin. Just leave. Just say you never saw me. No culpability, no repercussions. That would serve you best. I will take care of myself, and the others, this night. Better a small mutiny now than a great one later."

 

[Cinnonym]

Thaedrin stood his ground.

"I'm interested: Is your little retribution due because you wish to defend the elf girl's honor, or is your pride wounded because Alrik broke your toy?"

 

[FortyThree]

His nostrils flared and fists clenched, but he kept his posture. He would no attack Thaedrin. No matter how much the scum sucking bastard asked for it.

"This is not about me, nor do I believe honor is achieved by skulking in the night-Nor do I believe in honor at all! This brute attacked a girl, a civilian, essentially, never through even basic training. His strength-He could have jellied her brain with one blow. Violence upon the helpless and retribution for crimes when the rulebook was never offered. It is not acceptable."

His rage grew with every word, and the last few syllables came through clenched teeth.

"The wardens were supposed to be about killing darkspawn. Fighting darkspawn. I did not intend to join a tribe of barbarians and madmen."

 

[Cinnonym]

"She is no civilian!" Thaedrin's voice was sharper now, kept low only by necessity, "Sulahn'nehn is a Grey Warden and your peer, not some shrinking violet for you to shield and protect, and she runs her mouth too damned much! How have you stood in the back, feathering Darkspawn with arrows, and not seen what her magic can do? I did that--I trained her by my own hand, the same ways I was trained, and I found her true power. She crushed me. She crushed me to pulp, Andoral damn you. And you... You think you're 'raising morale' when you take her to bed? Your lust has done more to separate us than my command or Alrik's; the elf Ulrin despises you, and the women follow your insolent lead. You miss shots, you got killed, strutting around for her, and she could blow you, or Alrik, away with a blink."

He paused, letting silence rule the corridor. His gaze was a step down from drilling a hole through the man's head, like he might have been trying to see the depth of his delusion.

"Are you pretending not to know this?"

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles snorted. It was so unusual for him he momentarily lost track of his anger.

It was a very short moment, however.

"But that is exactly it, you imbecile! She has potential. And she is constantly abused by you and he, with no frame of reference given to understand why. And Ghil and Ulrin are known murderers of Tevinters. What do you expect to happen as the resentment builds? They will finally thank you for toughening them? Or will they kill you and he and leave the wardens, leaving us short five members, including two mages?! This type of.. 'leadership' cannot continue. If you and he cannot be taught some damn humility or candor or atleast fear, then we will lose Wardens. And Sulahn'ehn is worth more than Alrik. I will not stand by as mutiny builds simply because the idiot Trajan Vorenus cannot tell the difference between a good soldier and a good leader."

His whispers came quickly and harsh as his hands fell to his sides, fists clenched. He was having great difficulty keeping his volume down.

 

[Cinnonym]

Thaedrin laughed, then, a short and humorless bark.

"You're the one to teach him that lesson, hm? That was what you planned to do, with just your knives and your wits? I wonder what that brute would do to the elves, once he'd finished smashing your skull in with a fist. Listen to me. You owe me your obedience. I will not let you ruin this for me, I will not go back to Weisshaupt having to explain why half of my subordinates are dead!"

 

[Slycne]

Jarrik was going to explain how he was conflicted about the wardens, and he had questions that only those who were less endeared to the joining could answer. But Alrik cut short their discussion, like a nagging maid shoeing the children off to bed. Though he'd proven to have more than just a wooden spoon for doling out punishment.

He climbed into a hammock in the room he was sharing with Ulrin and Diocles and drifted off to sleep humming a sea shanty. The hammock swayed softly with the ship.

 

[FortyThree]

Diocles all but snarled, gesturing angrily with one hand as his other stayed at his waist.

"You'd be surprised what you could do if you had my knives and my wits, Thaedrin! I, atleast, did not come to the Wardens green. My life is soaked in blood. .. What will you do, then, to keep your subordinates alive?"

 

[Cinnonym]

His hand lashed out and slapped the man, slapped him so hard his palm went numb. The disrespect was too much, the arrogance he displayed, the insolence. It was the same as it had been at Weisshaupt, the archer did as he pleased and no one ever gave a sideways glance. Not tonight.

"Your life is half soaked in semen, you miserable wretch! You want to know what I'll do!? I'll end this now!"

He turned on his heel and raised his fist; he'd pound on Alrik's door and rouse the man to settle the matter himself, the Alamarri way.