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

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duckflesh

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"Think nothing of it. Have a seat, please."

He studied her thoughtfully.

"It was a terrible thing that happened to Thaedrin Davinius. Do you agree?"
 

Slycne

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The two week journey had been far too boring for Jarrik's taste, but Weisshaupt Fortress proved an impressive sight to cap off their travels. Even without being staffed by an elite order like the Grey Wardens, the structure was a wonder in itself. The towering keep and walls had been said to be constructed in record time, and it was strategically located to allow the wardens to sally to the defense of much of Tevinter. A mighty rock on which to lay the foundation for new tales of glory, the Rivaini thought to himself.

After being ushered inside, Jarrik watched the warden recruits run through drills with a passing interest. He continued to sit in the wagon where it had been parked in the yard. The Joining had been increasingly on his mind and he used the downtime to reflect - now that the awe of the fortress had passed, but seeing some of the scrawny scraps that were currently training his spirit lifted a little. It would not due for the name of Jarrik de Avalos to end because of some darkspawn foul brew.

He took to milling around the inner ward, spear slung across his shoulders and arms resting from it. The barbarian had mentioned that the commander wanted to see them all, though he was unsure if that meant him as well. So he meant to stay in a visible enough area. The armored warrior whistled and hummed to a tune softly to pass the time.
 

ShadowFolk

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The elf did as she was instructed and took a seat. Her focus was on keeping her head up and not crumbling under the man's scrutiny. She had a number of answers ready as to why the murder took place. There was plenty of time on the trip back to consider them and so she was taken aback by the yes or no question. A halla in torchlight once again.

No, not entirely.

Sulahn'nehn assumed she knew the answer the Constable wanted was a 'yes'. Though that felt like a lie at least partially. She felt saying that she did not find his death terrible might end in her own, and so she finally decided to reply with, "Yes, ser." And just a few seconds passed before she added to it, nervously. "The entire situation spun out of control and ended in tragedy. I did not...share the same views as Constable Davinius, but he did not deserve what- what took place. I- I do believe that I was under the influence of a demon when-" She cleared her throat and shifted. It was not so easy to speak to the man who could take that second or rather third chance away.

"Although, it was likely able to feed on me due to my own weakness. I made-...a mistake. My heart was in a good place, but not the right place and- at the time I truly thought he was a danger to us and the mission. I was not aware of my thoughts being altered until it was much too late. We have lost so much and the fault lays with me. W-We have since been rid of the demons. I will not let foolish ideals cloud my mind, I am in no rush to make the same mistake twice, and I am more than willing to stay devoted to my duties...should you still think I can."
 

Cinnonym

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While the Commander of the Grey conducted his debriefings, Fidelity wandered the halls of the mountain fortress in an effort to memorize the layout. The structure pleased the spirit; it had been well-designed to endure, and would be easily defensible during an assault. Surely, it would not be all too much longer before that would be tested. The griffon roosts fascinated it the most, as the Fade stood devoid of creatures of lower intelligence. It spent hours counting feathers and examining beaks and talons, amazed by wingspans. They seemed as accepting of the spirit's presence as they would be with a tree or a rock; simply a piece of nature, like them.

From the vantage point provided by the roof terrace, it could see the Wardens going through their drills in the courtyard, could barely pick out its new comrades standing in idleness nearby, though some were missing. Seeing the mages at work reminded it how hopeless some mortals were in the art. Within, there was a stirring of some longing to set them right.

'There, now, Thaedrin. Your time has passed.'
 

FortyThree

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Sul was still being quite cool with him. He had hoped they could resume being friends even if their romantic relationship was finished, but she was taking the incident quite badly. Not that he could blame her. And now he would have authority over her. It was an uncomfortable responsibility, but he would be careful not to abuse it. It would also complicate flirting with new wardens. Such was life.

To dwell on these thoughts, and other weighty matters, Diocles sought solitude. His search brought him to the griffon roosts. The beasts could be temperamental at times, but they were pleasant enough company and wouldn't interrupt his thoughts. As he spotted a familiar form, however, he found himself disappointed by his company. A demon in a friend's body.

"Considering a winged form instead, Fidelity?"
 

Cinnonym

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"Ah. Diocles Komnenos."

Fidelity turned its head enough to regard him with its good eye, and then returned to grooming the griffon before it. One of the Wardens tending the roosts had thought the spirit ought be useful while looming around.

"I do not think it would be wise. Though freedom of flight is no doubt useful, I do not think I could bear having such singular utility. A human might love a woman without wishing to be one, is that not the truth?"
 

FortyThree

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"Hah! True enough, I know as well as any. Though they do have sharp claws as well."

He neglected to clarify which 'they' he referred to. He was only amusing himself, anyway, he doubted the spirit was capable of humor. He studied the creature carefully. It had fixed Thaedrin's body well. He had heard some remark on how disturbing they found the unnaturally pale skin, but he thought it was simply.. Exotic. The eye was a shame. Even moreso was the fact that the body was controlled by an inscrutable invader.
 

Cinnonym

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"Yes. They do."

True to form, the spirit accepted this lighthearted jab at face value. With the griffon's feather preened and talons filed, it went through the mechanical motions of removing the saddle and saddle blanket to brush out the beast's coat. This simple act alone was enough to soothe Fidelity, the texture of the brushed fur and the warmth underneath as satisfying as the weathered wood of the war room table. Amazing, how coming from nothingness to a world of external stimulus had not overwhelmed the spirit to the point of madness--but these eyes and ears and this flesh had lived twenty-two years and were more than accustomed.

"I hear that you are to become Senior Warden."
 

FortyThree

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Diocles narrowed his eyes at that. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Perhaps Alrik had simply told the spirit, but it was an odd thing for the barbarian to mention needlessly. He kept his eyes on Thaedrin's body, watching its every careful movement as if studying a monster.

"I am. How did you come by that piece of knowledge?"
 

Cinnonym

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"Preparations are being made for the ceremony, it would seem. It makes for talk between the slaves and among the Wardens."

Fidelity stood, finished with the work, and offered the brush to Diocles as it left the stable.

"Also, Thaedrin Davinius did wish it."
 

FortyThree

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That was surprising. Diocles laid the brush down as he considered it, confusion evident in his face. Thaedrin wouldn't reward him for unethical reasons. Nor did he seem to respect the archer. Perhaps it was intended as a clever punishment, forcing him to watch the way he acted.

"Handsome bastard."
 

Cinnonym

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"Handsome. I am certain he will be pleased with the compliment, however, I suppose I could claim it for myself as well. Enjoy your afternoon, Diocles Komnenos."

The spirit turned away from him then, making its way to the stairs to return below to its assigned quarters. The tour was done, and there was no need to join its peers for drills. The evening meal would be a new experience worth looking forward to, however.
 

FortyThree

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Claim it for himself. That raised Diocles' blood. The monster thought it would claim Thaedrin's body, thought they would let it. He would destroy that body if it ever exorcised Thaedrin-no, keep it alive, but bury it, deep into the earth, deny it of its newfound pleasures.

The archer calmed himself with a few careful breaths. He had to stop thinking of the demon as a free-thinking creature, like a dwarf or elf. It was an automaton, following logical steps. It could be out-thought. Surely Trajan intended to purge it from Thaedrin in due time. There was no use dwelling on it now. He went to rejoin Delphina, perhaps to share the ambiguous news.
 

duckflesh

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Trajan's scrutiny of the elf never lessened, his eyes boring into her as she spoke.

"I could see my way to allowing you to remain among us. The question is: is that really what you want? Perhaps the reason you have had trouble adjusting to life here is that freedom has not lived up to your expectations. I admit, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Freedom does not mean that you can be anything you want, do anything you want. No one is so free. Take an example-- what options exist, realistically, for a man like Diocles? He can be a farmer. He can join the army. He can be a beggar. Not so many others. He is free, yes, but freedom has its limits. And you are free, too. But if you find following a Warden's orders no better than the slave master's whip, so be it. You can always return to your master's home."

He stood up.

"Well? Are you a Grey Warden, Sulahn'nehn? Or are you only pretending to be?"
 

ShadowFolk

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She took a moment to consider what he had said, versus what Thaedrin told her. She was not truly free, but there were parts of her life that were better than her life before. Not many, but it still seemed preferable somehow. There was no home for her to return to. Had she returned to Tevinter, Sulahn'nehn would likely be snatched up and sold. Who would believe her had she said she was free? The elf had grown accustomed to her new life and did not think she would transition well back into slavery. This was coupled with the fact that she was granted another chance. It made her further believe this is what her Creators wanted her to do.

Yes, it was something she could do.

"I am no slave. I will follow orders. I am a Warden, ser."
 

duckflesh

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Trajan smiled.

"Good. Then, your adjustment period over, I am sure you will be an exemplary soldier from now on. I look forward to observing your progress. I hope you will help some of our new Wardens adjust to the life as well-- we'll be having an initiation tomorrow. You are dismissed, unless you have furher questions. And speaking of new Wardens, please send the Antivan up to see me."
 

ShadowFolk

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Thank the Creators.

One could almost hear her sigh of relief. Sulahn'nehn would have to keep herself in check...and probably learn how to salute properly. She offered up the best one she could for the time being. "Yes, ser. Thank you, Commander."

She dismissed herself and went in search of their newest recruit. He, at least was extremely easy to find in the inner ward, given his appearance. She placed her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Ser Jarrik? Commander Vorenus will see you now."

After delivering the message, the elf set off to fall in line with the mages in training. Better to start now than later.
 

Slycne

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Feb 19, 2006
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"Thanks, lass."

In truth, Jarrik didn't know where this Commander Vorenus was, but to find a military leader, much like any political or regal head of state, following the trail of fancy hats and increasingly decorative wardrobes was a sure path to the top. Asking for directions didn't hurt either. The fortress was cavernous, but its hallways seemed designed to best defend from attackers, not confuse inhabitants. Jarrik located it in short order.

He entered the room very much looking the part of the knight just returned from battle, with shield slung across his back and helmet tucked underneath an elbow.

"Ser, I was told you wanted to see me."
 

duckflesh

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Trajan nodded, offering his hand for a shake-- this man was not yet his subordinate.

"Jarrik, is that right? It's my pleasure to meet you. Alirk speaks very highly of you. I know you've just come back from a difficult mission, and I promise you that they're not always quite so complicated, but fighting the Darkspawn is no easy task. Do you still wish to join the Grey Wardens? We'd be glad to have you, and I'm happy to answer any questions you may have."
 

Slycne

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Jarrik accept the handshake, removing the gauntlet and leather glove from his right hand first.

"Aye, Ser. Jarrik de Avalos at your service." He said with a bit of flare, though keeping most of his boasting to a minimum. "As for joining your order, the 'spawn are no longer a threat that can be idly ignored, I am thinkin'. I saw firsthand how they tore into the defenses of Antivia City. They are making raids deeper and further East these days. So it is my wish to join up with the one lot doin' something about it." He gave a stiff nod as if to punctuate his resolve.

"As for questions, I've been travelin' with your wardens for nearly a month now. So nothing comes to mind other than when my Joining would occur? I'm eager to rip that bandage from the wound, so they say." Making light of the endeavor did little to settle his stomach of the matter though.