PakkuVen
Kupo!
Plot Summary
(I'll fill this in later)
Cast
(In case there be many Npcs I and I start losing track)
-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Fandom Dragon Age: Outworlders and Outlanders Saga
- Thread starter PakkuVen
- Start date
(I'll fill this in later)
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Name: Garrot (Gar) Hanu -------An alias meaning Dream Thief in Dovah'Zuul
Age: 42 (actual) 22 (Apparent)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Hero Forge Reference
Height comparison simulator
Commissioned Art
6"9'
Red dragon eyes
Thick long black hair reaching his lower back, straight with a feathery texture
Broad shouldered, muscle appropriate of a laborer, dark tanned skin, almond shaped eyes, and rounded nose with a softly curving bridge hinting to his Filipino heritage
A Thedosian might assume he's an Avaar/Tevinter bastard and a Reaver due to his skin color, height, red eyes, and racism. Bolder gossips whisper that he is actually half Qunari.
He has jagged scars resembling a beast's teeth marks along the right side of his neck and lower jaw. A myriad of scars from his escaping a horde of demons. Surgical scars on his left wrist, and middle of his chest. A few burn scars on his hands and forearm, especially his right arm. Despite these intimidating qualities Gar is one to smile often and it shows on his resting face.
(See Misc. for more details)
Personality: Optimistic, non-confrontational, introvert, intelligent, organizational, helpful, scatter-brained, prone to bouts of melancholy, terrible at finding the right words to say
Skills: Not all skills from his old life translate directly to Thedas. He is good at task-oriented problem solving. Has random knowledge about things. Likes technology, cooking, dancing. Small amount of healing knowledge, among other things, is notable for Thedosians. Is illiterate in common.
Magic: Specializes into storm and force magic. He can cast some fire spells, and very good at barriers. Ice magic doesn't come naturally either but he stubbornly persisted as water is practical for many things. It would probably take a couple years before Gar can cast healing spells safely and efficiently. Uses his magic in creative ways many trained Thedosians mages wouldn't consider. Has an affinity for shapeshifting but will likely not learn it as it is reviled by many Thedosians cultures, namely the Chantry. Adjacent to magic he has the potential to learn Reaver abilities.
Biography: Native to Earth then one night he found himself pulled into the supposedly fictional world of Thedas following the explosion at Conclave 9:41 Dragon. He survived hordes of demons in the fade thanks to his gift as a dreamer (Somniari). When Gar managed to leave the fade he subconsciously manifested a physical form for himself, as he was not physically in the fade. This is not too dissimilar from how the spirit of compassion known as Cole formed his own body. Gar finds out he is a mage. Although his control significantly better than other newly manifested mages it doesn't change the fact he is untrained, and under significant stress of his situation. He is captured, questioned, and released by the newly founded inquisition...from the chantry dungeon that is. He is still a mage with little choice but to help. Besides Thedas's past (and future) is not entirely unfamiliar to someone who played the Dragon Age video games...
Miscellaneous:
-------------------------------------------------------
Name: Ellana Lavellan
Age: 20
Race: Elf
Appearance: Curly brown hair tucked behind her ears and cut at chin level, green eyes, Mythal's vallaslin on a rose beige skin.
Personality: Protective, Strong sense of justice
Skills: Daggers, Bow, Dalish Wilderness skills
Biography: One of her clan's hunters; as such her job was also as the clan's scouts and protectors. She volunteered to go to the conclave so that the clan's First, Mahanon, could stay safely away from all the templars.
Miscellaneous:
Age: 42 (actual) 22 (Apparent)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Hero Forge Reference
Height comparison simulator
Commissioned Art
6"9'
Red dragon eyes
Thick long black hair reaching his lower back, straight with a feathery texture
Broad shouldered, muscle appropriate of a laborer, dark tanned skin, almond shaped eyes, and rounded nose with a softly curving bridge hinting to his Filipino heritage
A Thedosian might assume he's an Avaar/Tevinter bastard and a Reaver due to his skin color, height, red eyes, and racism. Bolder gossips whisper that he is actually half Qunari.
He has jagged scars resembling a beast's teeth marks along the right side of his neck and lower jaw. A myriad of scars from his escaping a horde of demons. Surgical scars on his left wrist, and middle of his chest. A few burn scars on his hands and forearm, especially his right arm. Despite these intimidating qualities Gar is one to smile often and it shows on his resting face.
(See Misc. for more details)
Personality: Optimistic, non-confrontational, introvert, intelligent, organizational, helpful, scatter-brained, prone to bouts of melancholy, terrible at finding the right words to say
Skills: Not all skills from his old life translate directly to Thedas. He is good at task-oriented problem solving. Has random knowledge about things. Likes technology, cooking, dancing. Small amount of healing knowledge, among other things, is notable for Thedosians. Is illiterate in common.
Magic: Specializes into storm and force magic. He can cast some fire spells, and very good at barriers. Ice magic doesn't come naturally either but he stubbornly persisted as water is practical for many things. It would probably take a couple years before Gar can cast healing spells safely and efficiently. Uses his magic in creative ways many trained Thedosians mages wouldn't consider. Has an affinity for shapeshifting but will likely not learn it as it is reviled by many Thedosians cultures, namely the Chantry. Adjacent to magic he has the potential to learn Reaver abilities.
Biography: Native to Earth then one night he found himself pulled into the supposedly fictional world of Thedas following the explosion at Conclave 9:41 Dragon. He survived hordes of demons in the fade thanks to his gift as a dreamer (Somniari). When Gar managed to leave the fade he subconsciously manifested a physical form for himself, as he was not physically in the fade. This is not too dissimilar from how the spirit of compassion known as Cole formed his own body. Gar finds out he is a mage. Although his control significantly better than other newly manifested mages it doesn't change the fact he is untrained, and under significant stress of his situation. He is captured, questioned, and released by the newly founded inquisition...from the chantry dungeon that is. He is still a mage with little choice but to help. Besides Thedas's past (and future) is not entirely unfamiliar to someone who played the Dragon Age video games...
Miscellaneous:
- He is afraid of insects, including spiders of course. Falling from heights, deep water.
- Can barely swim
- The demon which Gar fought with in his dreams gained a foothold through Gar's grieving the death of his husband Alex. When he escaped The Nightmare's patch of the fade it took relevant memories.
- Seven Stages of grief: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing, acceptance
- Gar was formerly only 5"7' before he subconsciously manifested himself a body in Thedas. Being on the extreme end of the height spectrum is a hassle.
- His new physical form is a result of him only thinking "human" like he would when shapeshifting in his dreams. Human and dragon form draw heavily from a specific recurring dream. The scars on his body reflect a mix of scars on his original body, and the injuries he got fighting to escape the fade.
- Can hold a tune. Enjoys dancing
- Is not afraid of physical labor. Still kept in shape despite age and being a middle manager in retail.
- Addicted to Chocolate, not fond of most cheeses.
- Hates cold weather (And he ended up in Frostback mountains lol)
- Used to be hard of hearing but has average human hearing now. Still has audio processing issues.
- Is dragon-blooded . Enhanced sight (low light, motion tracking), smell, strength and durability. Doesn't use reaver abilities but could learn. His temper is shorter than he is used to. Will struggle with smell not only being stronger but different (ex blood isn't repulsively sweet now)
- Accent is an unholy conglomeration of different accents. It's primarily an American accent you hear from gamers in the early 2000s. However he grew up in the south so there's southerisms and occasional drawls in his sentences. Th sounds have a soft d sound. And vowels are often pitched higher and sharper. (Courtesy of Thai, Tagalog, and Spanish) In Thedosian terms he sounds vaguely Free Marcher and several something elses they can't pin to one place. To make matters worse the chameleon effect results in more confusion depending on the accent of the person he's talking to. (Yes this is seriously how I talk. It was very confusing talking to two people at the same time where one had a thick Spanish accent and the other spoke Hindi)
- Has years of experience in retail, food service, and call-center. His last held job was a middle manager in retail.
- Gar manifested his body similarly to Cole. It stands to reason he could fade away like Cole could as well. In his case it would be losing the will to exist.
- Considering him also having scars from the dream which his body is from. In the dream he was a captive and test subject for years.
- Owing to his heritage I'm amused with the idea of him being a tropical semi-aquatic dragon (he is also afraid of deep water).
- Dragon Design notes. Fish: Flying fish, Flying Gurnard, lion fish, beta fish for wing/tail types inspiration. Size reference: Schools Buses: 10.5ft high, 25ft long. Elephants: 10-16ft long, 8-13ft tall, 6-13k lbs.
- Arms of an Angel, Sarah McLachlan
- Keeping me Alive - Jonathan Roy
- Strawberry Wine - Deana Carter
- American Honey - Lady Antebellum
- Somewhere over the rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
- Melodies of Life - FF9 Emiko Shiratori
- Breath (2AM)- Anna Nalick
- When you Believe - Whitney Houston & Mariah Carey
- Chasing the Sun - Sara Bareilles
- A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
- Safe & Sound - Cover by Victor and Lana
- Alice is Dead - Hania Zdunek
- It's Time - Imagine Dragons
- Fall to Pieces - Velvet Relolver
Name: Ellana Lavellan
Age: 20
Race: Elf
Appearance: Curly brown hair tucked behind her ears and cut at chin level, green eyes, Mythal's vallaslin on a rose beige skin.
Personality: Protective, Strong sense of justice
Skills: Daggers, Bow, Dalish Wilderness skills
Biography: One of her clan's hunters; as such her job was also as the clan's scouts and protectors. She volunteered to go to the conclave so that the clan's First, Mahanon, could stay safely away from all the templars.
Miscellaneous:
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Name: Tamrace
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Race: Human
Appearance: Wavy but somewhat messy ginger hair that just about reaches his shoulders. Hazel eyes. Clean shaven face, rather pale, with freckles spread across his cheeks, nose, and even a few around his eyes. Has a small, curved scar at the bridge of his nose, due to a broken nose which cut never properly healed. Has a "resting sad face" that is frequently covered up by a small, yet friendly smile. Medium, fit, and agile build. Fairly short; stands at only 5’6.
Due to genetics Tamrace is very susceptible to sunburn - and since he was raised in the desert he learned quickly to cover up his skin when outside in the day. Thus, one may not see much of his actual face in the day, due to his force of habit.
Hero Forge Ref
Fallout Ref
(A very brief and simple) History: The circumstances of Tamrace’s birth are a mystery. He’s never known his parents, where he came from, or why he was abandoned within the vast and harsh desert land of Tromeros when he was just an infant. He only knew that he was fortunate to be discovered, taken in and raised by a native tribe of hunter-gatherers.
Being a very isolated people, the Tromerians had never quite seen someone that looked like him before, but many warmed to him and treated him equally. He was taught as any Tromerian would, learning the necessary skills and techniques to survive. As of present, he plays the role of a hunter and scout with pride and enthusiasm, though he’s known to help in any job should it require a helping hand.
Recently, however, a series of misfortunes have befallen the tribes. In an attempt to avoid extinction, Tamrace's tribe leader declared a journey be undertaken, into lands considered to be sacred, taboo to be tread upon by the living... through the gateway into the afterlife (or so they believe?...)
In reality - it's a lie! They didn't find their dead people - only living peoples far more technologically advanced than them, living in a world far larger than they thought possible. What they called Tromeros was actually a place deep in the deserts of Western Orlais (sp?) (This section will be updated as more is revealed)
Personality: Tolerant, reliable, typically friendly and good-humored, dedicated worker, altruistic, observant, loyal to a fault; prone to cracking under pressure, anxious, can be too selfless which can possibly lead into self-neglect, bad at making difficult decisions, possibly a bit naive, can be hasty and impatient
Other:
Nicknames: Tammy (Notably by Stasia), Tam (Notably by Gar), Sparrow (By Varric)
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Birthday: Unknown. Is close in age to Stasia, but is technically the younger of the two.
Race: Human
Appearance: Wavy but somewhat messy ginger hair that just about reaches his shoulders. Hazel eyes. Clean shaven face, rather pale, with freckles spread across his cheeks, nose, and even a few around his eyes. Has a small, curved scar at the bridge of his nose, due to a broken nose which cut never properly healed. Has a "resting sad face" that is frequently covered up by a small, yet friendly smile. Medium, fit, and agile build. Fairly short; stands at only 5’6.
Due to genetics Tamrace is very susceptible to sunburn - and since he was raised in the desert he learned quickly to cover up his skin when outside in the day. Thus, one may not see much of his actual face in the day, due to his force of habit.
Attire: See Hero Forge ref for a general idea of his typical attire. Garb of primarily cloth, crafted with a specialized technique, that can be loosened or tightened with hide straps as needed depending on time of day. Thick, durable scarf that functions similar to a shemagh. Sandals. Various satchels/pouches to store resources, and a waterskin.
Accessories/Extras: Wears a long strip of red cloth in his hair behind his left ear that is entwined with various animal parts such as tiny feathers, claws, fangs, etc. Called a pleko, or braid; essentially a hunter's personal trophy collection that they wear. Earrings decorated with bone and actual scarab beetles! Most sentimental item is a bracelet made of sinew and interwoven with human finger bones.
Equipment: Primitive arsenal made from stone, bone, and rarely wood, including spears both long and short; a long bow and arrows; a pack of throwing shards; bolas; hunting knife
Dragon Age RefHero Forge Ref
Fallout Ref
(A very brief and simple) History: The circumstances of Tamrace’s birth are a mystery. He’s never known his parents, where he came from, or why he was abandoned within the vast and harsh desert land of Tromeros when he was just an infant. He only knew that he was fortunate to be discovered, taken in and raised by a native tribe of hunter-gatherers.
Being a very isolated people, the Tromerians had never quite seen someone that looked like him before, but many warmed to him and treated him equally. He was taught as any Tromerian would, learning the necessary skills and techniques to survive. As of present, he plays the role of a hunter and scout with pride and enthusiasm, though he’s known to help in any job should it require a helping hand.
Recently, however, a series of misfortunes have befallen the tribes. In an attempt to avoid extinction, Tamrace's tribe leader declared a journey be undertaken, into lands considered to be sacred, taboo to be tread upon by the living... through the gateway into the afterlife (or so they believe?...)
In reality - it's a lie! They didn't find their dead people - only living peoples far more technologically advanced than them, living in a world far larger than they thought possible. What they called Tromeros was actually a place deep in the deserts of Western Orlais (sp?) (This section will be updated as more is revealed)
Personality: Tolerant, reliable, typically friendly and good-humored, dedicated worker, altruistic, observant, loyal to a fault; prone to cracking under pressure, anxious, can be too selfless which can possibly lead into self-neglect, bad at making difficult decisions, possibly a bit naive, can be hasty and impatient
"Scars of old are not easy to forget nor painless to remove. That is why you enslave yourself to others' needs. To punish yourself for the scars. To feel less helpless like you did then. And you do not want to stop, because you have made it your identity. What would you even do? Where would your place even be, if it does not lie in working for everyone else but yourself?" ~ Stasiastik
- Bears a sense of what could be best described as "reckless altruism," often jumping to people's aid or defense with little regard for himself or little consideration for the context of the situation, as long as it appears to clearly be the right choice at the time.
- Could be a guilt-based response, defending others so willingly as to atone for his previous inability to protect and save.
- Frequently uses humor as a coping mechanism.
- Poor self-esteem. Tends to casually deflect discussions that focus in on him. Not a fan of looking at his own reflection.
- Appears to have hyper vigilance; rarely stops surveying the area and being wary of danger, especially during, before, or after the heat of action. This could stem from the lifestyle he was raised in, and/or possibly due to anxiety and/or PTSD.
- Is very openly affectionate. Absolutely willing to hug, give a massage, or even cuddle if it does not cross the recipient's boundaries. Is likely touch-starved; which may be attributed to lack of parental affection.
- But he has his own boundaries, and is averse/repulsed to anything that he feels treads too far into romantic/sexual territory. And for the latter, he is disgusted with even talking about such things.
- Parental issues. He will readily state he's perfectly happy regarding his tribe as family, and while that may be genuine, a part of him privately yearns to know more of his origins and blood family. Bottles it up in fear of appearing disloyal or unappreciative.
- It's a factor that subtly contributes to his curiosity for the larger world and desire for adventure. While confused and doubtful with the workings of more technologically advanced societies, he can't help but also feel excitement.
Skills: Hunting; mainly uses bow and spear, as well as other various tools and traps. Could be considered somewhat of a rogue class. Survival skills.Other:
- Speaks with a thick and undetermined accent; closest reference would be a crude mix of Arabic and Hindi dialects.
- Illiterate.
- Big animal lover; birds and horses are his favorite.
- Likes dancing and is secretly a good singer, though he would not agree. Is only comfortable singing around a few trusted people - or when he's piss drunk.
- Disgustingly lightweight when drinking, yet also has different 'stages' or 'personas' of drunkenness.
- Left-handed; however he was trained without that regard, with right-hand dominance in mind, and can use his right hand quite well. Thus can be considered ambidextrous(?)
- (Aromantic) Asexual. Will excuse this with answers that he's too preoccupied with his work or simply not interested to think of relationships at the time. Secretly struggles with it, as it's seemingly another thing that makes him not fit in, even among people of his own heritage.
Last edited:
PakkuVen
Kupo!
The taste of his mother's som tam never tasted so flavorful as it did now. Christian's husband, Alex, sat almost comfortably to his left, poking at the food on his plate he didn't recognize cause his husband rarely cooked this many foods from home. Christian had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom and process how this was even happening. A frown crossed his features when he realized he was somehow standing in his bedroom. He looked behind and was standing in his mother's dining room again. "Crisco, you okay?" His mother stood up looking genuinely concerned.
"No." He said as heavy weight sank into his stomach. A slimy flutter of unease caressed his back. Relax. You always wanted this A voice seemed to say in his mind.
"You aren't her. She doesn't care." Those words were clipped with horror. That feeling across his back seemed to tightened; Christian whirled around, coming face to face with his bedroom door. He went in and slammed close.
"Boundry! This is my safe space and you cannot enter!" He declared it definitively, as he often practiced, but could not silence the yearning of his heart. His mother opened the door and tentatively walked in. "Crisco you are making scene!" she whisper shouted, "I just wanted to see you again. This is what you wanted."
The room felt comfortably warm, soothing even, as his knees gave out. It felt like waking up in bed. Sleepy and at peace with himself. With an lazy stretch Chris sat up in an empty bed...and in the wrong bedroom. He was standing when it glided in, formless and frustrated. "Why do you resist when I give you what you want?" It sounded like his mother. His dead mother.
"GET. OUT." Even with all his will the thing pushed back with an inhuman cry. The two beings pushed back and fourth. Each time the room became more disorganize until nothing obeyed the laws of physics anymore.
"This is my dream and you are unwelc-" He stumbled forward as it stopped pushing and glided past him, quick and elusive as a paper airplane. Looking behind him he saw a ghost of Alex lying in bed next to him. He saw the demon's trajectory. Chris screamed and pulled on the anchor tethering him to his body. He pulled desperately trying to get there first. To protect.
I have you The demon whispered in malicious delight right in his ear. To his horror he felt it slipping through the cracks of his skin. He fell for the oldest trick in the book. A moment of distraction was all it needed. It wanted him all along. While Chris fought to expel the foreign entity from his body with every trick he could conjure in his mind's eye he vaguely noted that no demon ever fought this hard before. It seemed nearly desperate...then something else happened. Like a burst of heat from being too close to frying oil. Danger. Chris didn't dare turn his attention back outside his mind again. It didn't matter suddenly as he was falling. Something shifted in him- though he didn't have the time to process the missing piece. The demon was screaming. "No.NO! NO!"
Chris opened his eyes this time to find the demon falling outside of him. The sick feeling he got when falling struck him harder than the demon's sudden angry grip. He pushed back only this time the demon actually recoiled. This momentary victory was cut short when he collided with solid ground. He quickly got to his feet though his breath was not catching up quite so fast. As he got up he registered something wet on his face. It hurt. There were fragmented visions. Chris heard people screaming. He heard words in a language that sounded so familiar but he couldn't place it yet...
"WELL WHAT IS THIS?" A booming voice brought him to the present. "I CAN'T PLAY WITH YOU...YET. CATCH HIM."
He felt his pulse quicken. All around him stood disturbingly solid apparitions of people he knew. Except they were all in different stages of decay. There were bugs falling out of orifices, they made noises that sounded like words and nails on chalk board at the same time. By the time he realized he had froze in place one of the nightmarish things had a hand on him. It was trying to pull him down. Quickly he looked to the only empty space he could see to his left and imagined himself there. It worked! There was no time to feel the taste of a victory no matter how small however....
--------------------------------------
"What the. FUCK was that?!" Ran through his mind along with a litany of curses in every language he knew. He barely had the capacity to feel fear anymore. His world was pain and that green portal before him. He flapped his wings desperately trying to gain speed. There was something on him, several somethings. Like insects with a hell of a bite crawling on his skin. He stayed focused on his only hope.
He wished it was like that moment of release before you hit the water. Where that hush of peace, fear, and excitement, co-existed all for a single moment. This was more like a trip through a blender and Chris was that stubborn carrot that wouldn't break. The air felt thin; it felt like it was eating away at his entire body like water running over ice. He instinctively did what he often did when there was too much pain without and withdrew into himself. It helped for a moment. Then something hit him in the face. He blinked stupidly at the ground that filled his vision and remembered he was a dragon! "This is my dream" he told himself again as he willed his wings to catch the wind.
It wasn't enough to avoid hitting the ground again with a crash. The pained roar leaving his throat feeling almost natural. The pain of open wounds resurfaced to his attention. Chris still felt like a piece of ice in the kitchen sink. He called back to that comforting dream where he changed into a dragon. Where he knew power and escaped his prison. Only he was doing this in reverse. He needed to cage his power. He wanted the stability and a familiarity of being human again.
--------------------------------------
When he woke up again he could feel two things: cold, and something metal around his wrists. He groaned, neither feeling was welcome. The man sat up disoriented with the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and confused from the pieces of memories he could reach. Before he could start the processing anything however fresh pain blossomed across his face. Instinctively his turned his head with the momentum, but his timing was too slow to really take the bite out of whatever hit him. In the next moment he felt hands jerking him up. He'd barely got his feet under him when a hand grabbed his hair and pulled him lower. "You have 5 second mage to answer my questions." The woman spat. "Who are you?"
It took him a moment a focus his eyes, they took on a confused realization before he spoke "Cassandra?"
That got him another punch to the face. She grabbed him by the hair again "WHO. are. you?" she demanded without letting go. '"This feels too real. This is just a dream." Chris tried to tug on the anchor to his body. He tried to feel the familiar ache in his chest he often got from sleeping in one position too long.
"What?" She sounded confused momentarily. 'Did I say that out loud?'
"Did you help blow up the conclave?" She said to him. It was then Chris also realized he'd had a strange sensation emanating from the manacle around his wrists. His left hand opened. A glace confirmed there was no sparking green hell hole there. But the manacles did have a rune on them glowing a familiar blue. She called him a mage...
"Fetch the Nightgale." She directed to someone else. Chris tentatively dared to look up at Cassandra again. "You-you're....real? You can't be real." The interrogation didn't get any better from there.
----------------------------------
It was even scarier, sitting across from The Leliana in person. She had the air of someone who could kill him as easily as she took her next breath and signed apologetically. "You'll have to forgive Seeker Cassandra for her brute force tactics. However you will find I am no less suspicious of you." She narrowed her eyes at me. "I am known as the left hand of the divine, the Nighgale...but for the purpose of your questioning you may refer to me as Leliana." Then she tilted her head in an unsaid question.
"Gar....Garrot Hanu ma'am" He'd had time to think of a name to give them during the second round of the seeker's questioning. Apparently she couldn't place his accent. Gar was unsure if this was a boon or bane yet. Leliana was not exactly...gentler than than Cassandra during the "questioning". He was shaking and struggling to keep his thoughts together. The physical pain and fear kept his adrenaline spiked high. After an amount of time passed, he couldn't grasp time anymore at this point, he sat up straight with a jerk. He almost listed out of his chair during the interrogation if not for the disturbing cry of pain somewhere down the hall. Then Leliana simply left the room with the ominous words "Keep him alive." was punctuated by the slamming of the door she walked through. Gar would've sworn he saw a flash of green light before the door closed.
Dramatic exit thus concluded the man in templar armor stood by the door. The templar made brief eye contact then looked away quickly with an expression Gar could only guess was disturbed.
Chris, now Gar, had the chance to assess himself. His hair was long, down to his lower back, longer than he had ever let it grow out but still jet black. He apparently had the beginnings of a beard...a good deal of it thicker than the scraggly half beard he could only grow before. It was there he could also feel a peculiar scar along his lower jaw that went down his neck. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt over a red one, and a leather jacket that stopped the uncomfortable draft but did little for his exposed hands that were manacled and thus he couldn't put them in his pockets. Guessing by the feel of it he had nothing in the pockets of his distressed jeans that were tucked into black boots. Clothing he hadn't wore for decades....which brought up the fact his skin looked like almost as they did when he was his young self again if not for the fact they were heavily scarred...and obviously bigger. Everything was at least twice the size he was used to everywhere. Gar took a moment to be grateful his skin color was a familiar reddish brown, and that his very different voice was still his own, after a fashion. It took awhile during his interrogation to recognize that his voice was the one he'd only heard when he thought 'outloud' inside his head, except deeper than he expected. It was nice. To not have to hear the old man voice he was used to, that always bothered him when he needed to talk a lot at once in the past. But that's what puberty gave him. And his thoughts continued to wander around similarly safe ideas until he fell asleep at the table.
------------------------------------
It had been days now. Gar wasn't sure how many but he missed the small interrogation room. It was much warmer than this wide open space full of iron cages. There were always several templars stationed in the room at once. But he couldn't get a good look. It wasn't enough that they had him chained, caged, and apparently magic suppressed with the threat of being smitted. They repeatedly forced some kind of liquid drug down his throat until now he gave up resisting. The taste wasn't so bad once you got used to it. The disconnected feeling from reality was one he often sought by drowning himself in alcohol. Gar could do with a space heater, and something other than this sorry excuse for a blanket though. The food here was terrible and portions too small as well.
The prisoner, soon to be the herald, lay sprawled in a cage too far away for him to hear conversations when others came in and tended to her slight elven form. That was when he saw Solas for the first time, he only spare Gar a curious glance before focusing upon his task. Seeing Solas reminded him he couldn't remember dreaming any time he woke up. It reminded him he'd been a prisoner for days now without bathing. 'Maybe I'm not dreaming.' Haunted him constantly. Like the freezing cold that was an unwanted, but familiar, companion by now. Very much unlike the other man in a cage next to his. If Gar had to guess the ginger-haired man's height he'd say it was about his previous one. He'd been trying to guess using objects, doorways, and the height of the humans who came in as a frame of reference, what his current height was. Even Cullen only came up to his chin and the man was somewhere above the 6 foot mark, he seemed to recall. Gar could only guess he was at least 6 feet 7 inches tall himself. An entire 12 inches taller than he was previously! He always wanted to be taller after all. '
Please let this be one long vivid dream' He prayed into the aether as he put his faith in no god any longer.
Seeking a distraction he looked over to his jailbird companion again. They'd barely been able to exchange any words beyond their names. The man was called Tamrace. It seemed a miracle to Gar they even spoke the same language. Who knew Dragon Age really was in English? He didn't want to question the convenience of it. But he wished they could talk more to pass the time. Gar was bursting with questions. Including "Why do I get the impression we've met before?"
"No." He said as heavy weight sank into his stomach. A slimy flutter of unease caressed his back. Relax. You always wanted this A voice seemed to say in his mind.
"You aren't her. She doesn't care." Those words were clipped with horror. That feeling across his back seemed to tightened; Christian whirled around, coming face to face with his bedroom door. He went in and slammed close.
"Boundry! This is my safe space and you cannot enter!" He declared it definitively, as he often practiced, but could not silence the yearning of his heart. His mother opened the door and tentatively walked in. "Crisco you are making scene!" she whisper shouted, "I just wanted to see you again. This is what you wanted."
The room felt comfortably warm, soothing even, as his knees gave out. It felt like waking up in bed. Sleepy and at peace with himself. With an lazy stretch Chris sat up in an empty bed...and in the wrong bedroom. He was standing when it glided in, formless and frustrated. "Why do you resist when I give you what you want?" It sounded like his mother. His dead mother.
"GET. OUT." Even with all his will the thing pushed back with an inhuman cry. The two beings pushed back and fourth. Each time the room became more disorganize until nothing obeyed the laws of physics anymore.
"This is my dream and you are unwelc-" He stumbled forward as it stopped pushing and glided past him, quick and elusive as a paper airplane. Looking behind him he saw a ghost of Alex lying in bed next to him. He saw the demon's trajectory. Chris screamed and pulled on the anchor tethering him to his body. He pulled desperately trying to get there first. To protect.
I have you The demon whispered in malicious delight right in his ear. To his horror he felt it slipping through the cracks of his skin. He fell for the oldest trick in the book. A moment of distraction was all it needed. It wanted him all along. While Chris fought to expel the foreign entity from his body with every trick he could conjure in his mind's eye he vaguely noted that no demon ever fought this hard before. It seemed nearly desperate...then something else happened. Like a burst of heat from being too close to frying oil. Danger. Chris didn't dare turn his attention back outside his mind again. It didn't matter suddenly as he was falling. Something shifted in him- though he didn't have the time to process the missing piece. The demon was screaming. "No.NO! NO!"
Chris opened his eyes this time to find the demon falling outside of him. The sick feeling he got when falling struck him harder than the demon's sudden angry grip. He pushed back only this time the demon actually recoiled. This momentary victory was cut short when he collided with solid ground. He quickly got to his feet though his breath was not catching up quite so fast. As he got up he registered something wet on his face. It hurt. There were fragmented visions. Chris heard people screaming. He heard words in a language that sounded so familiar but he couldn't place it yet...
"WELL WHAT IS THIS?" A booming voice brought him to the present. "I CAN'T PLAY WITH YOU...YET. CATCH HIM."
He felt his pulse quicken. All around him stood disturbingly solid apparitions of people he knew. Except they were all in different stages of decay. There were bugs falling out of orifices, they made noises that sounded like words and nails on chalk board at the same time. By the time he realized he had froze in place one of the nightmarish things had a hand on him. It was trying to pull him down. Quickly he looked to the only empty space he could see to his left and imagined himself there. It worked! There was no time to feel the taste of a victory no matter how small however....
--------------------------------------
"What the. FUCK was that?!" Ran through his mind along with a litany of curses in every language he knew. He barely had the capacity to feel fear anymore. His world was pain and that green portal before him. He flapped his wings desperately trying to gain speed. There was something on him, several somethings. Like insects with a hell of a bite crawling on his skin. He stayed focused on his only hope.
He wished it was like that moment of release before you hit the water. Where that hush of peace, fear, and excitement, co-existed all for a single moment. This was more like a trip through a blender and Chris was that stubborn carrot that wouldn't break. The air felt thin; it felt like it was eating away at his entire body like water running over ice. He instinctively did what he often did when there was too much pain without and withdrew into himself. It helped for a moment. Then something hit him in the face. He blinked stupidly at the ground that filled his vision and remembered he was a dragon! "This is my dream" he told himself again as he willed his wings to catch the wind.
It wasn't enough to avoid hitting the ground again with a crash. The pained roar leaving his throat feeling almost natural. The pain of open wounds resurfaced to his attention. Chris still felt like a piece of ice in the kitchen sink. He called back to that comforting dream where he changed into a dragon. Where he knew power and escaped his prison. Only he was doing this in reverse. He needed to cage his power. He wanted the stability and a familiarity of being human again.
--------------------------------------
When he woke up again he could feel two things: cold, and something metal around his wrists. He groaned, neither feeling was welcome. The man sat up disoriented with the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and confused from the pieces of memories he could reach. Before he could start the processing anything however fresh pain blossomed across his face. Instinctively his turned his head with the momentum, but his timing was too slow to really take the bite out of whatever hit him. In the next moment he felt hands jerking him up. He'd barely got his feet under him when a hand grabbed his hair and pulled him lower. "You have 5 second mage to answer my questions." The woman spat. "Who are you?"
It took him a moment a focus his eyes, they took on a confused realization before he spoke "Cassandra?"
That got him another punch to the face. She grabbed him by the hair again "WHO. are. you?" she demanded without letting go. '"This feels too real. This is just a dream." Chris tried to tug on the anchor to his body. He tried to feel the familiar ache in his chest he often got from sleeping in one position too long.
"What?" She sounded confused momentarily. 'Did I say that out loud?'
"Did you help blow up the conclave?" She said to him. It was then Chris also realized he'd had a strange sensation emanating from the manacle around his wrists. His left hand opened. A glace confirmed there was no sparking green hell hole there. But the manacles did have a rune on them glowing a familiar blue. She called him a mage...
"Fetch the Nightgale." She directed to someone else. Chris tentatively dared to look up at Cassandra again. "You-you're....real? You can't be real." The interrogation didn't get any better from there.
----------------------------------
It was even scarier, sitting across from The Leliana in person. She had the air of someone who could kill him as easily as she took her next breath and signed apologetically. "You'll have to forgive Seeker Cassandra for her brute force tactics. However you will find I am no less suspicious of you." She narrowed her eyes at me. "I am known as the left hand of the divine, the Nighgale...but for the purpose of your questioning you may refer to me as Leliana." Then she tilted her head in an unsaid question.
"Gar....Garrot Hanu ma'am" He'd had time to think of a name to give them during the second round of the seeker's questioning. Apparently she couldn't place his accent. Gar was unsure if this was a boon or bane yet. Leliana was not exactly...gentler than than Cassandra during the "questioning". He was shaking and struggling to keep his thoughts together. The physical pain and fear kept his adrenaline spiked high. After an amount of time passed, he couldn't grasp time anymore at this point, he sat up straight with a jerk. He almost listed out of his chair during the interrogation if not for the disturbing cry of pain somewhere down the hall. Then Leliana simply left the room with the ominous words "Keep him alive." was punctuated by the slamming of the door she walked through. Gar would've sworn he saw a flash of green light before the door closed.
Dramatic exit thus concluded the man in templar armor stood by the door. The templar made brief eye contact then looked away quickly with an expression Gar could only guess was disturbed.
Chris, now Gar, had the chance to assess himself. His hair was long, down to his lower back, longer than he had ever let it grow out but still jet black. He apparently had the beginnings of a beard...a good deal of it thicker than the scraggly half beard he could only grow before. It was there he could also feel a peculiar scar along his lower jaw that went down his neck. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt over a red one, and a leather jacket that stopped the uncomfortable draft but did little for his exposed hands that were manacled and thus he couldn't put them in his pockets. Guessing by the feel of it he had nothing in the pockets of his distressed jeans that were tucked into black boots. Clothing he hadn't wore for decades....which brought up the fact his skin looked like almost as they did when he was his young self again if not for the fact they were heavily scarred...and obviously bigger. Everything was at least twice the size he was used to everywhere. Gar took a moment to be grateful his skin color was a familiar reddish brown, and that his very different voice was still his own, after a fashion. It took awhile during his interrogation to recognize that his voice was the one he'd only heard when he thought 'outloud' inside his head, except deeper than he expected. It was nice. To not have to hear the old man voice he was used to, that always bothered him when he needed to talk a lot at once in the past. But that's what puberty gave him. And his thoughts continued to wander around similarly safe ideas until he fell asleep at the table.
------------------------------------
It had been days now. Gar wasn't sure how many but he missed the small interrogation room. It was much warmer than this wide open space full of iron cages. There were always several templars stationed in the room at once. But he couldn't get a good look. It wasn't enough that they had him chained, caged, and apparently magic suppressed with the threat of being smitted. They repeatedly forced some kind of liquid drug down his throat until now he gave up resisting. The taste wasn't so bad once you got used to it. The disconnected feeling from reality was one he often sought by drowning himself in alcohol. Gar could do with a space heater, and something other than this sorry excuse for a blanket though. The food here was terrible and portions too small as well.
The prisoner, soon to be the herald, lay sprawled in a cage too far away for him to hear conversations when others came in and tended to her slight elven form. That was when he saw Solas for the first time, he only spare Gar a curious glance before focusing upon his task. Seeing Solas reminded him he couldn't remember dreaming any time he woke up. It reminded him he'd been a prisoner for days now without bathing. 'Maybe I'm not dreaming.' Haunted him constantly. Like the freezing cold that was an unwanted, but familiar, companion by now. Very much unlike the other man in a cage next to his. If Gar had to guess the ginger-haired man's height he'd say it was about his previous one. He'd been trying to guess using objects, doorways, and the height of the humans who came in as a frame of reference, what his current height was. Even Cullen only came up to his chin and the man was somewhere above the 6 foot mark, he seemed to recall. Gar could only guess he was at least 6 feet 7 inches tall himself. An entire 12 inches taller than he was previously! He always wanted to be taller after all. '
Please let this be one long vivid dream' He prayed into the aether as he put his faith in no god any longer.
Seeking a distraction he looked over to his jailbird companion again. They'd barely been able to exchange any words beyond their names. The man was called Tamrace. It seemed a miracle to Gar they even spoke the same language. Who knew Dragon Age really was in English? He didn't want to question the convenience of it. But he wished they could talk more to pass the time. Gar was bursting with questions. Including "Why do I get the impression we've met before?"
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
"... I give you an order, Scout."
It was as if Tamrace had been slapped. A bitter taste rose in his mouth, and he was stunned silent as he stared wide-eyed across the hut at whom he considered his best of friends. Stasia looked perfectly calm despite her caustic tone. There was no indication she regretted what she just said. Not like he might've wished. With that realized, he swallowed the bitterness with a grimace.
"And you order me to run towards that.... that green lightning that has just split the very sky? That just shook the very earth? Did you not see there were rocks and beasts falling out of it?... Actually, I do not care what you see. Whatever this is is - it is dangerous! That much is clear!"
The exact words exchanged next were becoming foggy by now - though he did know they'd grown louder as an argument broke - but he vividly recalled being pulled down forcefully by his scarf to meet nose-to-nose with Stasia. Her face held anger now, and Tamrace felt an odd crackling sensation from the hand she was using to hrab him. "Have we traveled all this way just to run now? I say not. But if you want to go against the Oracle's word - so be it. Be a coward. Back down. Give in to your nerves. Just as you always have."
Maybe Stasia was purposely trying to push him, from the choice words or the subtle threat of magical harm or both. He didn't know. But it certainly seemed to work. He pulled away almost immediately; while it didn't take him long to resign himself his scowl remained, and a condescending remark followed, "... Yes. Fine. As you say, Oracle Stasiastik."
His exit from the temporary camp of his people was swift and furious. To think they'd only finished setting it up today, and yet it was likely it'd last little more than today now given this new and mysterious danger looming in the sky. Despite that - he was perhaps just a little relieved to be getting away from it now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maybe he shouldn't have been, but Tamrace was quite surprised for a person to be the first thing he stumbled upon. Besides fallen rubble that is. He'd expected there had to be some animals or people caught in the crossfire, but what might've caught him off guard was the oddity of the sight.
It was a lone person, lying amongst snow and rubble. Not only that, but lying in the center of a large patch of displaced snow, far too large for a person to create - and yet there seemed to be no signs of anything else. He felt that detail confusing and of particular note, though he wasn't sure why. But he also couldn't make out much of the person from the distance he was at; Tamrace saw reddish-brown skin and black hair and clothing he could only call strange. He knew that the man did not look very lucid, if at all, and any injuries he must have, the redhead could not see - but it seemed to be dire, if the blood stained on the ground was anything to judge from.
It was enough for his nagging sense of altruism to kick in.
After a quick glance around the immediate area, Tamrace stepped out from the rocky outcropping he'd been hiding behind. As quickly as he could he climbed down the uneven and icy ledge, dropping with a soft crunch to the level of ground the stranger was lying at. As he approached Tamrace noticed the man may have been just barely awake.
Before he could say anything however - he heard a shout, and the marching of feet coming ever closer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamrace put up only a little resistance as he found himself accosted. A little resistance meaning he might have kicked and bit whoever the person was that had been practically manhandling him and forcing metal binds around his wrists.
Maybe not the best first impression. Not the most civilized way to introduce yourself to the civilized peoples. But in Tamrace's opinion in that moment, if they'd wanted a better response, they could have got him to come along without all the show of aggression.
Once they had successfully subdued him and hauled him into interrogation, they weren't any kinder. He recalled his scarf being roughly torn off from around the rest of his head, revealing his full face now. Free Marcher? Ferelden? They tossed around words he didn't know, and they might seemed equally unsure of it themselves, as they hadn't quite seen any Free Marcher or Ferelden native looking as he did, with clothing that looked better suited for a desert, and weapons (which they'd immediately confiscated) being made from mainly bone or stone. It became only more perplexing when, like with Gar, they couldn't quite place his accent when they started getting him to speak.
"Who are you?" Also much like Gar had, Tamrace had received a decent amount of questions and punches. "What do you know about this? Did you have a part in the explosion? Who do you answer to?"
Who was he? Tamrace. What did he know about this? Absolutely nothing. Did he have a part in the explosion? Unless the sheer misfortune of his existence had made the world go 'fuck it, I want to destroy myself now.'
And who did he answer to? Stasi. His tribe, his adoptive kin. That's what he answered in his own mind, but he was not about to spill a single word about them to these people. They could try all they wanted for all he cared; he was too loyal. He wasn't going to put them in more danger than they already might be....
....... Who knew how long it'd be before he knew that answer for himself, now.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamrace was very much beginning to feel like a fox caught in a snare. He couldn't tell just how much time he's spent surrounded by this cold and hard cage, with little else accompanying it besides a raggedy blanket and a periodic meal. It wasn't so much the food - he's been raised to either eat or starve and he was used to eating small anyway. The blanket was at least of some comfort - even if it was more so from the purpose of occupying his hands by picking it apart one loose fiber of cloth at a time. At least with that, there was something to distract him. Because this cage might as well have been the worst kind of punishment for someone so dependent on doing something, anything, such as him. It was something of a miracle he's been able to restrain any open panic thus far. But the longer he stayed trapped, the more he had to pray his Ancestors give him strength... agh! Ancestors, give him strength!
"Why do I get the impression we've met before?"
The question was enough to give Tamrace a start. He'd been looking away from Gar. Sitting with his back pressed against the bars of his own cell, his hazel eyes were aimed towards the ceiling, with his thoughts on places far beyond the prison walls. His fingers were currently tap-tapping on his knees. The mindless rhythm they drummed was broken with the man's slight jump, his head turning to face his cage neighbor.
"... I, yes. We have, somewhat," Tamrace cleared his throat. He found his lilted voice somewhat faint, even dry. Huh. He's barely talked all this time, hasn't he? They haven't said much at all to each other.
"I saw you lying in the snow... I do not know why or how. But I went to check you for injuries, see if I could help - but soon enough they came." He gestured towards the Templars currently in the room. Tamrace then tilted his head, a look of concern crossing his face as he glanced back at Gar. "I could tell you weren't very... all there. And... there was a lot of blood. I assumed you did not know up from down at the moment, let alone noticed me. Hah!... but, err, how are you feeling now? Well, aside from... the obvious, trapping, we are in..."
It was as if Tamrace had been slapped. A bitter taste rose in his mouth, and he was stunned silent as he stared wide-eyed across the hut at whom he considered his best of friends. Stasia looked perfectly calm despite her caustic tone. There was no indication she regretted what she just said. Not like he might've wished. With that realized, he swallowed the bitterness with a grimace.
"And you order me to run towards that.... that green lightning that has just split the very sky? That just shook the very earth? Did you not see there were rocks and beasts falling out of it?... Actually, I do not care what you see. Whatever this is is - it is dangerous! That much is clear!"
The exact words exchanged next were becoming foggy by now - though he did know they'd grown louder as an argument broke - but he vividly recalled being pulled down forcefully by his scarf to meet nose-to-nose with Stasia. Her face held anger now, and Tamrace felt an odd crackling sensation from the hand she was using to hrab him. "Have we traveled all this way just to run now? I say not. But if you want to go against the Oracle's word - so be it. Be a coward. Back down. Give in to your nerves. Just as you always have."
Maybe Stasia was purposely trying to push him, from the choice words or the subtle threat of magical harm or both. He didn't know. But it certainly seemed to work. He pulled away almost immediately; while it didn't take him long to resign himself his scowl remained, and a condescending remark followed, "... Yes. Fine. As you say, Oracle Stasiastik."
His exit from the temporary camp of his people was swift and furious. To think they'd only finished setting it up today, and yet it was likely it'd last little more than today now given this new and mysterious danger looming in the sky. Despite that - he was perhaps just a little relieved to be getting away from it now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maybe he shouldn't have been, but Tamrace was quite surprised for a person to be the first thing he stumbled upon. Besides fallen rubble that is. He'd expected there had to be some animals or people caught in the crossfire, but what might've caught him off guard was the oddity of the sight.
It was a lone person, lying amongst snow and rubble. Not only that, but lying in the center of a large patch of displaced snow, far too large for a person to create - and yet there seemed to be no signs of anything else. He felt that detail confusing and of particular note, though he wasn't sure why. But he also couldn't make out much of the person from the distance he was at; Tamrace saw reddish-brown skin and black hair and clothing he could only call strange. He knew that the man did not look very lucid, if at all, and any injuries he must have, the redhead could not see - but it seemed to be dire, if the blood stained on the ground was anything to judge from.
It was enough for his nagging sense of altruism to kick in.
After a quick glance around the immediate area, Tamrace stepped out from the rocky outcropping he'd been hiding behind. As quickly as he could he climbed down the uneven and icy ledge, dropping with a soft crunch to the level of ground the stranger was lying at. As he approached Tamrace noticed the man may have been just barely awake.
Before he could say anything however - he heard a shout, and the marching of feet coming ever closer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamrace put up only a little resistance as he found himself accosted. A little resistance meaning he might have kicked and bit whoever the person was that had been practically manhandling him and forcing metal binds around his wrists.
Maybe not the best first impression. Not the most civilized way to introduce yourself to the civilized peoples. But in Tamrace's opinion in that moment, if they'd wanted a better response, they could have got him to come along without all the show of aggression.
Once they had successfully subdued him and hauled him into interrogation, they weren't any kinder. He recalled his scarf being roughly torn off from around the rest of his head, revealing his full face now. Free Marcher? Ferelden? They tossed around words he didn't know, and they might seemed equally unsure of it themselves, as they hadn't quite seen any Free Marcher or Ferelden native looking as he did, with clothing that looked better suited for a desert, and weapons (which they'd immediately confiscated) being made from mainly bone or stone. It became only more perplexing when, like with Gar, they couldn't quite place his accent when they started getting him to speak.
"Who are you?" Also much like Gar had, Tamrace had received a decent amount of questions and punches. "What do you know about this? Did you have a part in the explosion? Who do you answer to?"
Who was he? Tamrace. What did he know about this? Absolutely nothing. Did he have a part in the explosion? Unless the sheer misfortune of his existence had made the world go 'fuck it, I want to destroy myself now.'
And who did he answer to? Stasi. His tribe, his adoptive kin. That's what he answered in his own mind, but he was not about to spill a single word about them to these people. They could try all they wanted for all he cared; he was too loyal. He wasn't going to put them in more danger than they already might be....
....... Who knew how long it'd be before he knew that answer for himself, now.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tamrace was very much beginning to feel like a fox caught in a snare. He couldn't tell just how much time he's spent surrounded by this cold and hard cage, with little else accompanying it besides a raggedy blanket and a periodic meal. It wasn't so much the food - he's been raised to either eat or starve and he was used to eating small anyway. The blanket was at least of some comfort - even if it was more so from the purpose of occupying his hands by picking it apart one loose fiber of cloth at a time. At least with that, there was something to distract him. Because this cage might as well have been the worst kind of punishment for someone so dependent on doing something, anything, such as him. It was something of a miracle he's been able to restrain any open panic thus far. But the longer he stayed trapped, the more he had to pray his Ancestors give him strength... agh! Ancestors, give him strength!
"Why do I get the impression we've met before?"
The question was enough to give Tamrace a start. He'd been looking away from Gar. Sitting with his back pressed against the bars of his own cell, his hazel eyes were aimed towards the ceiling, with his thoughts on places far beyond the prison walls. His fingers were currently tap-tapping on his knees. The mindless rhythm they drummed was broken with the man's slight jump, his head turning to face his cage neighbor.
"... I, yes. We have, somewhat," Tamrace cleared his throat. He found his lilted voice somewhat faint, even dry. Huh. He's barely talked all this time, hasn't he? They haven't said much at all to each other.
"I saw you lying in the snow... I do not know why or how. But I went to check you for injuries, see if I could help - but soon enough they came." He gestured towards the Templars currently in the room. Tamrace then tilted his head, a look of concern crossing his face as he glanced back at Gar. "I could tell you weren't very... all there. And... there was a lot of blood. I assumed you did not know up from down at the moment, let alone noticed me. Hah!... but, err, how are you feeling now? Well, aside from... the obvious, trapping, we are in..."
Last edited:
PakkuVen
Kupo!
A frown crossed his face until he realized some unspecified amount of time had passed. It had been years since he'd been under any kind of influence this strong but Gar knew how to recognize something was going on even if he struggled to put everything in order. Thankfully it was starting to become easier. He'd feared to come off as rude to whomever was showing him this kindness. Tamrace was his name, yes.
"Oh. Ah-Yes. Thank you?" That was very diplomatic. He could just tell by the awkwardness in the air. "Wait blood?" Gar felt the scar on his face without thinking. He knew there were other scars on his body but they were too much for him to figure out under the circumstances. His mind, in its own way, skimmed upon what he knew of this story. He didn't recognize this Tamrace, or even his accent.
"I'm sorry for forgetting. I-if I didn't tell you already my name is Gar. Garrot Hanu, really, but that's too formal yah?"
Why dredge along this discomfort? He managed to talk this much without being interrupted by those templars for once. Which Gar dumbly realized were not present at this moment. No wait they were just not focused on them. He glanced over. Subconsciously wondering if she was waking soon. Solas said so, he vaguely recalled, along with the memory of how to make egg benedict. He regretted it immensely.
"Oh. Ah-Yes. Thank you?" That was very diplomatic. He could just tell by the awkwardness in the air. "Wait blood?" Gar felt the scar on his face without thinking. He knew there were other scars on his body but they were too much for him to figure out under the circumstances. His mind, in its own way, skimmed upon what he knew of this story. He didn't recognize this Tamrace, or even his accent.
"I'm sorry for forgetting. I-if I didn't tell you already my name is Gar. Garrot Hanu, really, but that's too formal yah?"
Why dredge along this discomfort? He managed to talk this much without being interrupted by those templars for once. Which Gar dumbly realized were not present at this moment. No wait they were just not focused on them. He glanced over. Subconsciously wondering if she was waking soon. Solas said so, he vaguely recalled, along with the memory of how to make egg benedict. He regretted it immensely.
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Tamrace almost didn't need a verbal answer. The awkward silence that settled in before Gar's first reply told the shorter man he was probably mentally lapsing. But something about the way he was speaking, too, was somehow off. Tamrace wasn't sure if part of that could be attributed to the accent though. While just about everyone here spoke oddly in Tamrace's perspective, even among them, Gar seemed to stand out. Either way, Tamrace noted he seemed at least a little disconnected and was slowly coming out of it. It vaguely reminded him of how he sometimes saw others, or how others had described his behavior, on occasion after coming down from a stint of smoking cactus.
... Hadn't these people been administering some sort of concoction to Gar every now and then?... hm. Perhaps that was why. But he'd only seen them giving it to Gar? What was it about him that told them to subdue him in that way? Tamrace wanted to say there was something there was something underneath the surface going on, but if he were honest he could say that about everything right now.
Thankfully for Gar, Tamrace didn't look to be taking offense. Actually the redhead smiled, chuckling slightly, "Yes. Blood. Quite a lot. I wasn't able to see the extent of your injuries. I'm sure there has to be scars. Though what matters is that you are not bleeding anymore, yes?"
And he didn't even point out this was the second time they would exchange names. "Well, er, it is a nice meeting of you, Gar," The name was emphasized with a decisive roll of the r's, just like he did in his own name next, "Likewise, I am Tamrace."
Since he assumed it likely Gar might have forgot. Still, he was starting to feel a little better now that he was talking to someone.
... Hadn't these people been administering some sort of concoction to Gar every now and then?... hm. Perhaps that was why. But he'd only seen them giving it to Gar? What was it about him that told them to subdue him in that way? Tamrace wanted to say there was something there was something underneath the surface going on, but if he were honest he could say that about everything right now.
Thankfully for Gar, Tamrace didn't look to be taking offense. Actually the redhead smiled, chuckling slightly, "Yes. Blood. Quite a lot. I wasn't able to see the extent of your injuries. I'm sure there has to be scars. Though what matters is that you are not bleeding anymore, yes?"
And he didn't even point out this was the second time they would exchange names. "Well, er, it is a nice meeting of you, Gar," The name was emphasized with a decisive roll of the r's, just like he did in his own name next, "Likewise, I am Tamrace."
Since he assumed it likely Gar might have forgot. Still, he was starting to feel a little better now that he was talking to someone.
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Gar sucked in a breath. Pieces of what happened before. The fearlings. Then he released it smoothly as he could. Repeat. Then noticed he had closed his eyes at some point. "Sorry. I remembered..."
"Tamrace" he said instead trying his best to roll the R but got stuck slurring the sound instead. "I could never get the hang of rolling Rs." He gave the smaller man a sheepish shrug. "May I call you Tam?" Their comfortable interaction could only be short-lived however. The Elven woman groaned and sat up. Gar winced and looked over to the door before it opened, and his interrogators stepped in. They really have dramatic timing nailed down. How did they even do that? Gar slowly shifted nearer to Tam as they intimidated the poor woman. "She can heal the sky." he whisper to the man.
"I remember...things chasing me." she said with a shudder "A dragon stopped them. And...a woman. She reached out to me and then.." The entire time Gar listened in with baited breath. It had been awhile since he played the game but he would've remembered something about a dragon; at least he'd like to think so. Cassandra and Leliana both glanced his way. Before the elf could do more than look their way Cassandra was pulling her up and pushing her towards the door. "I will take her to the rift. You should go to the forward camp."
The hooded woman gave a crisp nod, "I must see to a few things." And then they were gone. Gar didn't like the look he was getting from the spymaster. He could barely recall bits of the interrogation. Though he had been fighting to gain some lucidity he found himself wishing for another dose of that drug to calm his nerves.
"You told me I was not asking the right questions. ...Serrah Garrot Hanu." She calmly kneeled in front of his bars, staring directly into his eyes, templars at attention behind her "What were you refusing to tell me?"
The large man gulped. She could be referencing so many things he couldn't tell her. The Nightgale's hand slid deftly behind her so Gar spoke quickly. "The white rose growing from a dead bush. Pride guards the first rift. It's a jumble but I can't share pieces that might be wrong. Being in the fade..." Gar choked on the memory. "I thought it was just a nightmare."
A chilly silence hung between them. "Fade-touched...Can you change into a dragon again?" Gar had never used magic outside of his dreams before and he repeated this. When her hand came back in view he saw a vial; she tried to assure him it would counteract the other drug in his system.
Leliana stood up straight and looked at both men before her a moment before reaching a decision. "Templars, release them. Lysette I am assigning you to keep him in Haven. He claims to know non-magical healing." Then she turned her attention to the smaller man.
"We need people who can fight at the forward camp. It is our plan to retake the temple of sacred ashes. If we fail I fear the world will be swallowed by demons. Tamrace will you aid us?"
He didn't like the idea of sitting here and hoping everything would turn out fine. But she was right he hadn't tried to cast any magic since it was being repressed. Could he wield it safely? Gar didn't know so he turned to possibly his only friend here and tried to look encouraging.
"Tamrace" he said instead trying his best to roll the R but got stuck slurring the sound instead. "I could never get the hang of rolling Rs." He gave the smaller man a sheepish shrug. "May I call you Tam?" Their comfortable interaction could only be short-lived however. The Elven woman groaned and sat up. Gar winced and looked over to the door before it opened, and his interrogators stepped in. They really have dramatic timing nailed down. How did they even do that? Gar slowly shifted nearer to Tam as they intimidated the poor woman. "She can heal the sky." he whisper to the man.
"I remember...things chasing me." she said with a shudder "A dragon stopped them. And...a woman. She reached out to me and then.." The entire time Gar listened in with baited breath. It had been awhile since he played the game but he would've remembered something about a dragon; at least he'd like to think so. Cassandra and Leliana both glanced his way. Before the elf could do more than look their way Cassandra was pulling her up and pushing her towards the door. "I will take her to the rift. You should go to the forward camp."
The hooded woman gave a crisp nod, "I must see to a few things." And then they were gone. Gar didn't like the look he was getting from the spymaster. He could barely recall bits of the interrogation. Though he had been fighting to gain some lucidity he found himself wishing for another dose of that drug to calm his nerves.
"You told me I was not asking the right questions. ...Serrah Garrot Hanu." She calmly kneeled in front of his bars, staring directly into his eyes, templars at attention behind her "What were you refusing to tell me?"
The large man gulped. She could be referencing so many things he couldn't tell her. The Nightgale's hand slid deftly behind her so Gar spoke quickly. "The white rose growing from a dead bush. Pride guards the first rift. It's a jumble but I can't share pieces that might be wrong. Being in the fade..." Gar choked on the memory. "I thought it was just a nightmare."
A chilly silence hung between them. "Fade-touched...Can you change into a dragon again?" Gar had never used magic outside of his dreams before and he repeated this. When her hand came back in view he saw a vial; she tried to assure him it would counteract the other drug in his system.
Leliana stood up straight and looked at both men before her a moment before reaching a decision. "Templars, release them. Lysette I am assigning you to keep him in Haven. He claims to know non-magical healing." Then she turned her attention to the smaller man.
"We need people who can fight at the forward camp. It is our plan to retake the temple of sacred ashes. If we fail I fear the world will be swallowed by demons. Tamrace will you aid us?"
He didn't like the idea of sitting here and hoping everything would turn out fine. But she was right he hadn't tried to cast any magic since it was being repressed. Could he wield it safely? Gar didn't know so he turned to possibly his only friend here and tried to look encouraging.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Tamrace had opened his mouth to answer Gar's question - which would've been a rather pleased yes, because wow, that was far less emasculating than his usual nicknames! - but their interruption came before he could utter a word. It was almost too convenient really. He too watched on with Gar as the odd, pointy-eared woman woke up at last. Tamrace had been curious of her, not only because he hadn't quite seen someone like her but because he'd noticed the faint green glow accompanying her. It hadn't been long before he connected that it was similar to the green lightning in the sky....
'She can heal the sky?' While Gar's statement surprised and confused him, Tamrace made little response besides a sideways glance and a raised brow at the taller man. Didn't want to draw attention after all. Plus, he was straining to hear as much as he could of what the woman was saying.
And before long the conversation was concluded, and the attention was turned to the two men. More specifically his jailbird companion. Even if Lelianna's stare was not directed at Tamrace he still felt subdued by it. It reminded him of Stasi, somewhat, and from that he knew this was certainly a person with power. Not to be heeded lightly.
The following exchange surprised him even further. Of course he only listened, and tried not to look as interested as he was. Whatever Gar was saying about white roses and pride at the rift and the fade... he couldn't understand what that all meant, but knew it must be of some import. Then the spymaster asked if Gar could change into a dragon. Again the word dragon being used. What was it, even? He felt like he should know; that it was something he's seen before but called something different.
Whatever it could mean, Tamrace had the acute feeling that his new acquaintance was something... alien, even among these people.
Tamrace looked up when Lelianna addressed him. The redhead would have said 'do I even have a choice?' but quickly deemed that foolish. He was being asked to help them fight. They were placing that much trust in him, and if he played this right he might have a hope of that trust extending into freedom. So he instead offered the spymaster an eager nod and a warm smile as he hopped up to his feet. Ow! That hurt. Muscles were cramped. It was hard to move that much in here. His limbs will be thankful for this chance.
"Of course! Return my weapons and I will make sure they shall strike true in your prey."
There was one thing however... he looked from Lelianna to Gar, who seemed to be trying to give him silent encouragement. Then back to Lelianna. "You say he might know non-magic healings? Do you not think this forward camp could make use of that too?"
'She can heal the sky?' While Gar's statement surprised and confused him, Tamrace made little response besides a sideways glance and a raised brow at the taller man. Didn't want to draw attention after all. Plus, he was straining to hear as much as he could of what the woman was saying.
And before long the conversation was concluded, and the attention was turned to the two men. More specifically his jailbird companion. Even if Lelianna's stare was not directed at Tamrace he still felt subdued by it. It reminded him of Stasi, somewhat, and from that he knew this was certainly a person with power. Not to be heeded lightly.
The following exchange surprised him even further. Of course he only listened, and tried not to look as interested as he was. Whatever Gar was saying about white roses and pride at the rift and the fade... he couldn't understand what that all meant, but knew it must be of some import. Then the spymaster asked if Gar could change into a dragon. Again the word dragon being used. What was it, even? He felt like he should know; that it was something he's seen before but called something different.
Whatever it could mean, Tamrace had the acute feeling that his new acquaintance was something... alien, even among these people.
Tamrace looked up when Lelianna addressed him. The redhead would have said 'do I even have a choice?' but quickly deemed that foolish. He was being asked to help them fight. They were placing that much trust in him, and if he played this right he might have a hope of that trust extending into freedom. So he instead offered the spymaster an eager nod and a warm smile as he hopped up to his feet. Ow! That hurt. Muscles were cramped. It was hard to move that much in here. His limbs will be thankful for this chance.
"Of course! Return my weapons and I will make sure they shall strike true in your prey."
There was one thing however... he looked from Lelianna to Gar, who seemed to be trying to give him silent encouragement. Then back to Lelianna. "You say he might know non-magic healings? Do you not think this forward camp could make use of that too?"
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Gar was smacking his lips in disgust at the bitter taste of the antidote. He would notice in a few minutes it was working. What caused him to suddenly look up was Tam's attempt to bring him along. He tried not to look eager to but judging by the looks they were giving him he failed. The man slowly stood up. The aches from barely moving for days in the cold made the slowness necessary....and there were the pins and needs from formerly numb body parts he failed to notice.
Hesitantly he spoke up. "If I'm allowed to go with y'all I'll need something to defend myself with...and maybe we should grab healing tools and light supplies?"
Leliana gave them a considering look, though Gar felt that might've been for effect and she had already made her decision.
"Lysette can you have him ready at the gates in 5 minutes?" A quick exchange of information passed between the women followed by a quick slip of paper for Lysette that Leliana somehow managed to write on in a matter of seconds. No doubt slipped into a hidden pocket somewhere. How was she keeping it so neatly tucked away in form fitting leather armor?
--------------------------
Lysette was gentle enough removing his manacles and leading him to the requisitions officer. She was not however very friendly; repeatedly drilling him of the ground rules for magic or else she would smite him. Gar recognized her now as one of his favorite templars from the game. He wasn't getting the same vibes as he did from the game, then again everyone was stressed. As far as they knew it really was the end of the world. Even knowing it as he did nothing virtual could really prepare him for standing there and looking up at the sky. He could only compare the sheer disparity of the experience to the first time he had gone up a mountain verses when he saw the default picture of a mountain-scape in Windows XP. Albeit this awe wasn't slightly tinted with fear of falling into the sky, it was a bleeding terror.
"You don't seem surprised." she noted as she shoved a pack at him, that he dutifully placed on his back. "This is my first time seeing it, but how could I not already know of it?" Next thing she shoved at him was a large wooden shield with an iron frame. Well it would've been large on a normal sized man. Gar was just turning it over to figure out the straps when she started walking in the direction of the gates. Her ground rules were clear, but awfully unkind of her to move before he had the shield secure. All he could do was try and keep up and ignore the looks people were giving him. Now that his mind was clear again he could notice every sound he heard, every scent he smelled seemed....more than before in some way.
With a sigh, as they finally reached the gates, she turned to him. "Do you even know how to put it on?"
"Truthfully? Only theoretically ma'am." he flushed as he put the right side against his left forearm and struggled to keep it balanced while he got one of the straps in a notch that fit his arm. After she helped him put it on she made a comment it was probably a good thing they didn't hand him a weapon he'd probably hurt himself. It was hard not to feel offended but he knew as someone with no real life combat experience he couldn't say anything about that. She must've taken pity on him.
"Hey. I'm giving you a hard time but don't doubt for a moment I won't do my best to protect you." Gar could only hope she was sincere.
This....was more real than any dream he had before. He tried not to think it. But it also didn't feel real either. He discreetly tried to find that tether to his physical body that he could sense when he was dreaming and came up empty. He could only sense where he seemed to be in this present moment, and that was disturbing. He felt sick.
Leliana was there now with Tam, both wearing more armor and weapons, giving him a questioning raise of her brow. "I keep hoping I am dreaming but..." with a heavy sigh he pushed back on the mounting hysteria "My healing knowledge isn't just theoretical. But I only know emergency triage techniques. How to keep a patient alive long enough for someone with years of training to see to them." That seemed answer enough for the spymaster. Next they were striding forward and Gar kept scanning the skies for falling debris. Surprisingly the bridge was still intact.
"Did the h-that other prisoner leave Haven before us?"
"Not that you are in any position to demand answers." She said with a delicate pause that Gar looked puzzled for she found amusing. "She needed more time to prepare. She was unconscious for three days after all."
"Ah that makes sense...I was not trying to sound demanding. I apologize for my mistake."
Hesitantly he spoke up. "If I'm allowed to go with y'all I'll need something to defend myself with...and maybe we should grab healing tools and light supplies?"
Leliana gave them a considering look, though Gar felt that might've been for effect and she had already made her decision.
"Lysette can you have him ready at the gates in 5 minutes?" A quick exchange of information passed between the women followed by a quick slip of paper for Lysette that Leliana somehow managed to write on in a matter of seconds. No doubt slipped into a hidden pocket somewhere. How was she keeping it so neatly tucked away in form fitting leather armor?
--------------------------
Lysette was gentle enough removing his manacles and leading him to the requisitions officer. She was not however very friendly; repeatedly drilling him of the ground rules for magic or else she would smite him. Gar recognized her now as one of his favorite templars from the game. He wasn't getting the same vibes as he did from the game, then again everyone was stressed. As far as they knew it really was the end of the world. Even knowing it as he did nothing virtual could really prepare him for standing there and looking up at the sky. He could only compare the sheer disparity of the experience to the first time he had gone up a mountain verses when he saw the default picture of a mountain-scape in Windows XP. Albeit this awe wasn't slightly tinted with fear of falling into the sky, it was a bleeding terror.
"You don't seem surprised." she noted as she shoved a pack at him, that he dutifully placed on his back. "This is my first time seeing it, but how could I not already know of it?" Next thing she shoved at him was a large wooden shield with an iron frame. Well it would've been large on a normal sized man. Gar was just turning it over to figure out the straps when she started walking in the direction of the gates. Her ground rules were clear, but awfully unkind of her to move before he had the shield secure. All he could do was try and keep up and ignore the looks people were giving him. Now that his mind was clear again he could notice every sound he heard, every scent he smelled seemed....more than before in some way.
With a sigh, as they finally reached the gates, she turned to him. "Do you even know how to put it on?"
"Truthfully? Only theoretically ma'am." he flushed as he put the right side against his left forearm and struggled to keep it balanced while he got one of the straps in a notch that fit his arm. After she helped him put it on she made a comment it was probably a good thing they didn't hand him a weapon he'd probably hurt himself. It was hard not to feel offended but he knew as someone with no real life combat experience he couldn't say anything about that. She must've taken pity on him.
"Hey. I'm giving you a hard time but don't doubt for a moment I won't do my best to protect you." Gar could only hope she was sincere.
This....was more real than any dream he had before. He tried not to think it. But it also didn't feel real either. He discreetly tried to find that tether to his physical body that he could sense when he was dreaming and came up empty. He could only sense where he seemed to be in this present moment, and that was disturbing. He felt sick.
Leliana was there now with Tam, both wearing more armor and weapons, giving him a questioning raise of her brow. "I keep hoping I am dreaming but..." with a heavy sigh he pushed back on the mounting hysteria "My healing knowledge isn't just theoretical. But I only know emergency triage techniques. How to keep a patient alive long enough for someone with years of training to see to them." That seemed answer enough for the spymaster. Next they were striding forward and Gar kept scanning the skies for falling debris. Surprisingly the bridge was still intact.
"Did the h-that other prisoner leave Haven before us?"
"Not that you are in any position to demand answers." She said with a delicate pause that Gar looked puzzled for she found amusing. "She needed more time to prepare. She was unconscious for three days after all."
"Ah that makes sense...I was not trying to sound demanding. I apologize for my mistake."
Last edited:
PakkuVen
Kupo!
"He claims to be called Garrot Hanu." Leliana tilted her head in question at her companion, formerly the right hand of the divine if not for- no she would not dwell on it now. She had a job to do and it was to obtain information Seeker Cassandra could not with brute force. She it found did wonders for her interrogation with words, both poisoned and honeyed, so she allowed her friend to vent their collective rage on the suspicious captive.
"And?" Truthfully she had been watching for most of the interrogation from the shadows. Cassandra surprised her by calling her out on that now. "Your insight is invaluable nonetheless." she teased.
Predictably Cassandra made a sound of disgust. "He is a mage, and clearly dragon-blooded. He has not attempted to use Reaver abilities, but recognized me on sight. Be careful Leliana. I will be near if he tries something." Leliana nodded seriously while also lightly pushing her towards the door. "I can handle him you needn't worry. Rest. Your sword arm will be needed soon."
These days Leliana often carried a weight around her, the relative lightness around her friend was only evident now that she fully donned her responsibilities as spymaster. Someone was responsible for what happened at conclave. Someone most holy did not expect...the inconceivable had happened. In the wake of a sky bleeding demons upon the land were 3 prisoners defying explanation. One a woman, a Dalish elf with a green mark on her hand resembling the one in the sky; One human man possibly a Ferelden if not for his clothing, accent, and heavily tanned skin was found aiding the third prisoner; a human man found in a crater left behind by a Dragon that was witnessed leaving the Breach with demons falling of its back. The nearby snow was covered in blood. This information reminded her of that battle against Flemeth. Unfortunately it could be a week before she received a reply from Morrigan, assuming the bird reached the witch and she chose to answer her letter.
Objectively he appeared to be a Human man, a mage, standing 6 foot 9 inches, weighing about 22 stone, muscular. Red eyes, vertical slit akin to dragons, consistently black haired, no scales or other inhuman traits; Hair-length down to his lower back, healthy and well cared for. He smells faintly of tea tree and coconut. Tanned skin of brown-red hue, nails, teeth all imply access to the best food and products money could buy. His hands and feet are calloused by in a manner more common of a laborer than warrior. It was impossible to miss his scars. The obvious teeth marks across in lower jaw and neck, and the claw marks across his body, were fresh. Likely in recent battle with demons. There are small burn marks reaching to just above the elbow of indeterminate origin. And 3 surgical scars. One on the left foot, left wrist, and a large vertical scar in the center of his chest. That last scar that was concerning, as if someone had opened his chest cavity and spent the considerable effort of keeping him alive during and after the endeavor. She had an hard time imagining it was done for benign reasons. Though when asked he said it was an operation on his heart that kept him alive, no details. She learned through this he had fairly comprehensive knowledge of the human body. According to him he could only do minor non-magical healing.
The prisoner wore foreign clothing made with impeccable detail down to the last stich. Some kind of black leather jacket lined with pockets filled with various items; many overlapping bracelets, one which had a working clock; a black and silver wedding band with intricate circular patter; two shirts, red and black. Below that was a tightly woven, and thick, pair of deep blue pants of unknown make held up by a clamp closure belt. The pants however also appeared to be intentionally faded and torn in places. Followed by finely made calf-length black leather boots that appeared to use a combination of cow and...drake skin? Notably studded with bits of steel along straps connected at the ankle by a steel ring. There were another set of straps at the top of the boot, between those were laces. The shape of the boot was sleek with a raised heel. Clearly his attire was chosen for fashionable purpose. Steel is relatively cheap but the craftsmanship was masterful. This boot did not match up with any trends she was aware of. Another curious thing of note: one of the inquisition mages, few as they were, reported his clothing radiated magic but held no enchantment. If not for the Dalish prisoner she would think this a side-effect of being in the fade...
Origin remained unknown; although his accent is dominantly Free Marcher it is influenced by unknown languages and dialects. Facial structure almost resembles some Rivaini, but not quite that either. He has responded to Orlesian, Tevinter, Qunlat, Elvhen, Dwarvish, and Antivan with vocabulary too limited to even conduct trade. He willingly explained the meaning of his name with dark humor. Allegedly meaning "Dream Thief" as he was his mother's first born, and an unplanned pregnancy. When questioned if it was his true name he responded philosophically about true names being bound to one's soul. Whomever his people are they are connected to many cultures, some she never heard of, and peculiar ideas about magic and spirituality that were not consistent with cultures she knew of. Although Rivain was looking like the most likely place to find answers, had she the time. In a round about way he explained his people knew only a little about Thedas through the fade, affirming the theory he is from somewhere beyond our maps. It was then she also brought out one of the items on his person: a wallet. It was patterned in gray/black with a yellow stripe intersecting with an emblem featuring a goblet and some sort of animal- she would guess a badger. Within it was some form of paper notes, and various cards in a language she could identify. One card however did have a photo with what was likely identifying information. But it was not a picture of the prisoner. When asked he stated it was his uncle, and he had it as he was his authorized representative for medical reasons. She was certain he was lying about that, and probably lying about forgetting to put his own ID in his wallet.
So while she was inclined to believe his memory was fragmented as a result of what he had been through. He was not a good enough liar to hide the fact he was omitting details. One of those people who tried to obfuscate the truth without telling lies. According to his testimony he was fighting a desire demon before he found himself outside his own dream and in the fade. Though he adamantly refuses to acknowledge the inconsistency of being here physically if he was dreaming at home at the start of his tale. Her professionalism knew his sanity was hanging by a thread and did not press further. He continued the tale saying "since it was my dream" he willed himself to be a dragon in order to escape and overpower a horde of demons. The story got stranger as he described the creature that had bit him around the neck was another dragon, one from a memory of a nightmare he had before. She would have asked for more details regarding that but something else stood out to her. During the blight she had seen Morrigan take nearly fatal damage as a bear but did not appear physically injured upon returning to her human form.
"Did you only encounter demons and nightmares?" His eyes flicked to his left as he tried to recall, or stall for time. "No I did not encounter anyone." The response was too crisp for her liking.
"Did you see anyone else?" she amended. He froze for a moment, immediately realizing this was mistake he admitted to seeing two other "humanoid" figures being chased by fearlings but was too preoccupied with his own problems.
Once he found his place in his unbelievable tale it matched what she had seen herself. A dragon falling out of the Breach itself, covered in demons and blood. "I knew a shapeshifter once." She started, not missing his focus had returned. Something about that look said he knew what she was thinking. It was a look she spent hours perfecting with different tones. And who did not make assumptions about "The Witch of the Wilds" who aided the Hero of Ferelden?
"Physical injuries you received as a dragon should not affect your human form. Yet your scars look like the injuries you spoke of in the fade." After enough time of him shifting uncomfortably at the non-question she offered him succor.
"Have you ever attempted shapeshifting before?" She did not show her surprise when he stated he had never used magic outside of his dreams before. It was all coming together. The reason he thought he was still dreaming,. It seemed he was a Dreamer on top of this. It was strange he would state it so obliviously given how much general knowledge he possessed on magic and the fade.
The spymaster was not ruling out the possibility he was responsible for the destruction of Conclave. He also recognized her on sight. But it was seeming more likely he was connected in some other way the longer the interrogation went on, when exhaustion had set in and her captive made more mistakes. Even tired as he was she noted his breathing and every nervous movement, excepting the most subtle, were tightly controlled in a pattern. The prisoner was slippery and neatly side step answering direct questions with a finesse of someone whom had training but little experience. The first two concoctions barely affected him even with the dose doubled for his size and dragon-blood. The third was promising, however it only made communicating with him more tedious.
Despite his savage appearance he was an educated man with a heart of a scholar. It was easy to ply answers out of him about esoteric topics spanning multiple disciplines. Outwardly she encouraged this with subtle nudges towards topics he considered unsafe, making a show of exasperation when he derailed the topic. Inwardly the spymaster's smiled. She only made minor notes in her pad regarding the technical information she could not understand, unless writing something down got results from him. It took until the near the end of the interrogation for her to finally ply information of his origins. But it did not make sense, likely the concoction not only slowed his thoughts but affected recall. He called his home Earth, nearly shared more but caught himself on "North Kch". This was useful at least to get him talking about the weather of his homeland, which lead to the topic of cooking. He was even more passionate on this subject as esoteric sciences. The questioning was nearing its end as he was barely putting coherent sentences together any longer.
At least one drug was effective on the large man, and suitable for keeping him pliant. She thanked the maker for small blessings. While they could not leave their unique prisoners unguarded for fear of their escape, or death at the hands of a mob, they could hardly spare the manpower away from the line holding back demons. The prisoner had responded extremely well to positive reinforcement. She considered asking Josie to take over questioning next time but could not entertain the thought for the time being. She would request Lysette from the Commander as her demeanor struck her as someone who sympathized with mages as she did. It was a rare trait in a Templar that would balance out Templar Darrell. It would not do to have the guards kill a prisoner.
An elven apostate had been found claiming expertise on the fade. At the moment she was unable to deny such a boon, suspicious though it was, and left to see if that sliver of trust was misplaced as the Dalish prisoner screamed in pain outside the room.
"And?" Truthfully she had been watching for most of the interrogation from the shadows. Cassandra surprised her by calling her out on that now. "Your insight is invaluable nonetheless." she teased.
Predictably Cassandra made a sound of disgust. "He is a mage, and clearly dragon-blooded. He has not attempted to use Reaver abilities, but recognized me on sight. Be careful Leliana. I will be near if he tries something." Leliana nodded seriously while also lightly pushing her towards the door. "I can handle him you needn't worry. Rest. Your sword arm will be needed soon."
These days Leliana often carried a weight around her, the relative lightness around her friend was only evident now that she fully donned her responsibilities as spymaster. Someone was responsible for what happened at conclave. Someone most holy did not expect...the inconceivable had happened. In the wake of a sky bleeding demons upon the land were 3 prisoners defying explanation. One a woman, a Dalish elf with a green mark on her hand resembling the one in the sky; One human man possibly a Ferelden if not for his clothing, accent, and heavily tanned skin was found aiding the third prisoner; a human man found in a crater left behind by a Dragon that was witnessed leaving the Breach with demons falling of its back. The nearby snow was covered in blood. This information reminded her of that battle against Flemeth. Unfortunately it could be a week before she received a reply from Morrigan, assuming the bird reached the witch and she chose to answer her letter.
Objectively he appeared to be a Human man, a mage, standing 6 foot 9 inches, weighing about 22 stone, muscular. Red eyes, vertical slit akin to dragons, consistently black haired, no scales or other inhuman traits; Hair-length down to his lower back, healthy and well cared for. He smells faintly of tea tree and coconut. Tanned skin of brown-red hue, nails, teeth all imply access to the best food and products money could buy. His hands and feet are calloused by in a manner more common of a laborer than warrior. It was impossible to miss his scars. The obvious teeth marks across in lower jaw and neck, and the claw marks across his body, were fresh. Likely in recent battle with demons. There are small burn marks reaching to just above the elbow of indeterminate origin. And 3 surgical scars. One on the left foot, left wrist, and a large vertical scar in the center of his chest. That last scar that was concerning, as if someone had opened his chest cavity and spent the considerable effort of keeping him alive during and after the endeavor. She had an hard time imagining it was done for benign reasons. Though when asked he said it was an operation on his heart that kept him alive, no details. She learned through this he had fairly comprehensive knowledge of the human body. According to him he could only do minor non-magical healing.
The prisoner wore foreign clothing made with impeccable detail down to the last stich. Some kind of black leather jacket lined with pockets filled with various items; many overlapping bracelets, one which had a working clock; a black and silver wedding band with intricate circular patter; two shirts, red and black. Below that was a tightly woven, and thick, pair of deep blue pants of unknown make held up by a clamp closure belt. The pants however also appeared to be intentionally faded and torn in places. Followed by finely made calf-length black leather boots that appeared to use a combination of cow and...drake skin? Notably studded with bits of steel along straps connected at the ankle by a steel ring. There were another set of straps at the top of the boot, between those were laces. The shape of the boot was sleek with a raised heel. Clearly his attire was chosen for fashionable purpose. Steel is relatively cheap but the craftsmanship was masterful. This boot did not match up with any trends she was aware of. Another curious thing of note: one of the inquisition mages, few as they were, reported his clothing radiated magic but held no enchantment. If not for the Dalish prisoner she would think this a side-effect of being in the fade...
Origin remained unknown; although his accent is dominantly Free Marcher it is influenced by unknown languages and dialects. Facial structure almost resembles some Rivaini, but not quite that either. He has responded to Orlesian, Tevinter, Qunlat, Elvhen, Dwarvish, and Antivan with vocabulary too limited to even conduct trade. He willingly explained the meaning of his name with dark humor. Allegedly meaning "Dream Thief" as he was his mother's first born, and an unplanned pregnancy. When questioned if it was his true name he responded philosophically about true names being bound to one's soul. Whomever his people are they are connected to many cultures, some she never heard of, and peculiar ideas about magic and spirituality that were not consistent with cultures she knew of. Although Rivain was looking like the most likely place to find answers, had she the time. In a round about way he explained his people knew only a little about Thedas through the fade, affirming the theory he is from somewhere beyond our maps. It was then she also brought out one of the items on his person: a wallet. It was patterned in gray/black with a yellow stripe intersecting with an emblem featuring a goblet and some sort of animal- she would guess a badger. Within it was some form of paper notes, and various cards in a language she could identify. One card however did have a photo with what was likely identifying information. But it was not a picture of the prisoner. When asked he stated it was his uncle, and he had it as he was his authorized representative for medical reasons. She was certain he was lying about that, and probably lying about forgetting to put his own ID in his wallet.
So while she was inclined to believe his memory was fragmented as a result of what he had been through. He was not a good enough liar to hide the fact he was omitting details. One of those people who tried to obfuscate the truth without telling lies. According to his testimony he was fighting a desire demon before he found himself outside his own dream and in the fade. Though he adamantly refuses to acknowledge the inconsistency of being here physically if he was dreaming at home at the start of his tale. Her professionalism knew his sanity was hanging by a thread and did not press further. He continued the tale saying "since it was my dream" he willed himself to be a dragon in order to escape and overpower a horde of demons. The story got stranger as he described the creature that had bit him around the neck was another dragon, one from a memory of a nightmare he had before. She would have asked for more details regarding that but something else stood out to her. During the blight she had seen Morrigan take nearly fatal damage as a bear but did not appear physically injured upon returning to her human form.
"Did you only encounter demons and nightmares?" His eyes flicked to his left as he tried to recall, or stall for time. "No I did not encounter anyone." The response was too crisp for her liking.
"Did you see anyone else?" she amended. He froze for a moment, immediately realizing this was mistake he admitted to seeing two other "humanoid" figures being chased by fearlings but was too preoccupied with his own problems.
Once he found his place in his unbelievable tale it matched what she had seen herself. A dragon falling out of the Breach itself, covered in demons and blood. "I knew a shapeshifter once." She started, not missing his focus had returned. Something about that look said he knew what she was thinking. It was a look she spent hours perfecting with different tones. And who did not make assumptions about "The Witch of the Wilds" who aided the Hero of Ferelden?
"Physical injuries you received as a dragon should not affect your human form. Yet your scars look like the injuries you spoke of in the fade." After enough time of him shifting uncomfortably at the non-question she offered him succor.
"Have you ever attempted shapeshifting before?" She did not show her surprise when he stated he had never used magic outside of his dreams before. It was all coming together. The reason he thought he was still dreaming,. It seemed he was a Dreamer on top of this. It was strange he would state it so obliviously given how much general knowledge he possessed on magic and the fade.
The spymaster was not ruling out the possibility he was responsible for the destruction of Conclave. He also recognized her on sight. But it was seeming more likely he was connected in some other way the longer the interrogation went on, when exhaustion had set in and her captive made more mistakes. Even tired as he was she noted his breathing and every nervous movement, excepting the most subtle, were tightly controlled in a pattern. The prisoner was slippery and neatly side step answering direct questions with a finesse of someone whom had training but little experience. The first two concoctions barely affected him even with the dose doubled for his size and dragon-blood. The third was promising, however it only made communicating with him more tedious.
Despite his savage appearance he was an educated man with a heart of a scholar. It was easy to ply answers out of him about esoteric topics spanning multiple disciplines. Outwardly she encouraged this with subtle nudges towards topics he considered unsafe, making a show of exasperation when he derailed the topic. Inwardly the spymaster's smiled. She only made minor notes in her pad regarding the technical information she could not understand, unless writing something down got results from him. It took until the near the end of the interrogation for her to finally ply information of his origins. But it did not make sense, likely the concoction not only slowed his thoughts but affected recall. He called his home Earth, nearly shared more but caught himself on "North Kch". This was useful at least to get him talking about the weather of his homeland, which lead to the topic of cooking. He was even more passionate on this subject as esoteric sciences. The questioning was nearing its end as he was barely putting coherent sentences together any longer.
At least one drug was effective on the large man, and suitable for keeping him pliant. She thanked the maker for small blessings. While they could not leave their unique prisoners unguarded for fear of their escape, or death at the hands of a mob, they could hardly spare the manpower away from the line holding back demons. The prisoner had responded extremely well to positive reinforcement. She considered asking Josie to take over questioning next time but could not entertain the thought for the time being. She would request Lysette from the Commander as her demeanor struck her as someone who sympathized with mages as she did. It was a rare trait in a Templar that would balance out Templar Darrell. It would not do to have the guards kill a prisoner.
An elven apostate had been found claiming expertise on the fade. At the moment she was unable to deny such a boon, suspicious though it was, and left to see if that sliver of trust was misplaced as the Dalish prisoner screamed in pain outside the room.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
It was strange that, for as much as he had hoped through these days to be free of his binds, there was only a fresh apprehension that crept over him as they were removed, and he moved to follow Lelianna as Lysette tended to Gar. A thick tension hung in the air. The reality of this circumstance was sinking in with every step. It then came to Tamrace's mind - he'd agreed to fight for them without even knowing what he was fighting against.
Not that he was unused to it by now. His people's recent journey had them face plenty new quarry. Still, as a hunter who sought to know how the animal behaves beforehand, he couldn't help but be afraid of how effective a fighter he could promise to be.
Speaking of effectiveness. He'd expected to simply be tossed his normal weapons and tools when they were getting themselves battle ready, yet Lelianna had decided to give him the option of selecting something new instead. Something that may have appeared favoring of quantity over quality to any other Thedosian eye, but to Tamrace the low-caliber steel weapons were something of a wonder. Their spear and arrow tips appeared more durable and precisely piercing than the flint and whittled bone he was used to. They looked promising - but he wasn't used to such material. How else was it different? Any difference that could make him fail in a fight?....
He'd glanced over to Lelianna. One look reminded him he had no time to really elaborate on his ponderings and worryings.
He ended up taking some of the steel along with his original gear; extra arrows to go in his quiver with the bone, and a steel spear in case his stone broke. He also decided to take the leather armor the Spymaster was offering as well, something he might be thankful for down the road as he fit it over his cloth attire that was a better defender against weather than any physical combat. But now that he had his bow, his long and short spears.... his bolas.... his stone knife.... pack of bone throwing shards..... (gods are we sure he didn't have a secret weapon crammed up his ass too?....) having those returned gave him at least some sense of comfort.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So they met with Lysette and Gar at the gates, and soon they were off. Tamrace found it difficult not to look up at that crackling green fissure ravaging the sky, considering they were treading closer to the damn thing. He was watching the occasional flares of magic and debris raining down from the eye of the storm, nearly expecting it to simply burst and engulf the sky like a wildfire.
The thought didn't fill him with confidence.
But, well... this was what Stasi wanted, wasn't it?
"Tch! I wonder if she knew already she may lead me to death!" He thought bitterly. His scowl was hidden behind his scarf; all anyone else might see was his shadowed, narrowed eyes darting every which way, scanning the path ahead for any imminent threats.
It appeared their forces had held down the first bridge successfully, the path clear and relatively undamaged. Beyond that - not so much. The winding rocky pass separating the first and second bridges was currently echoing with the shouts of men and cries of demons; the clashing of steel and snapping of fires. The party would not have to rush very far up the trail to find a group of soldiers being barraged by a fresh wave of demons. Though they had a relentlessness to match these creatures of the Fade, blood and nicks on their armor and weapons hinted at previous fights, and slippage and miscalculations in their attacks and counters betrayed the fact they were steadily getting fatigued. A fact that could turn deadly, quick.
"Fall back!" The lead soldier among them was shouting, and while they fought they were backing and retreating behind the hurried fortifications of spike walls and overturned wagons, hoping for a pause. Others were already behind the stockades, with archers firing potshots at two rage demons and their accompanying wraiths.
Tamrace was not prepared for this. All this clamor and movement, these unnerving, unnatural creatures... so much to account for so suddenly. He was struggling to focus on one thing at a time let alone decide his course of action. Shit - Shit! Right! Ancestors. Yes. Weapon... with shaken hands he reached for his bow. Then into his quiver. After closing his eyes and taking a restrained breath, Tamrace rushed over and slid behind one of the barricades, knocking a bone arrow and peeking around to search for the clearest target.
Meanwhile, a warrior was scrambling away from the heart of the battle, moving closer to the party. It was immediately apparent why; she held only her sword, her other arm busy supporting the weight of another, who was sporting burns and an alarming gash on his right calf. Not to mention he looked ready to pass out. Both of them were, really.
"Somebody! - get a medic! - he needs healing, quick!" Out of breath, the woman lowered her injured comrade behind the safety of a spike wall, away from immediate danger. Before she could do much else however she was hit by a bolt of fade magic square in the back, throwing her off balance and sending her rolling into the snow and dirt with a cry of pain.
Not that he was unused to it by now. His people's recent journey had them face plenty new quarry. Still, as a hunter who sought to know how the animal behaves beforehand, he couldn't help but be afraid of how effective a fighter he could promise to be.
Speaking of effectiveness. He'd expected to simply be tossed his normal weapons and tools when they were getting themselves battle ready, yet Lelianna had decided to give him the option of selecting something new instead. Something that may have appeared favoring of quantity over quality to any other Thedosian eye, but to Tamrace the low-caliber steel weapons were something of a wonder. Their spear and arrow tips appeared more durable and precisely piercing than the flint and whittled bone he was used to. They looked promising - but he wasn't used to such material. How else was it different? Any difference that could make him fail in a fight?....
He'd glanced over to Lelianna. One look reminded him he had no time to really elaborate on his ponderings and worryings.
He ended up taking some of the steel along with his original gear; extra arrows to go in his quiver with the bone, and a steel spear in case his stone broke. He also decided to take the leather armor the Spymaster was offering as well, something he might be thankful for down the road as he fit it over his cloth attire that was a better defender against weather than any physical combat. But now that he had his bow, his long and short spears.... his bolas.... his stone knife.... pack of bone throwing shards..... (gods are we sure he didn't have a secret weapon crammed up his ass too?....) having those returned gave him at least some sense of comfort.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So they met with Lysette and Gar at the gates, and soon they were off. Tamrace found it difficult not to look up at that crackling green fissure ravaging the sky, considering they were treading closer to the damn thing. He was watching the occasional flares of magic and debris raining down from the eye of the storm, nearly expecting it to simply burst and engulf the sky like a wildfire.
The thought didn't fill him with confidence.
But, well... this was what Stasi wanted, wasn't it?
"Tch! I wonder if she knew already she may lead me to death!" He thought bitterly. His scowl was hidden behind his scarf; all anyone else might see was his shadowed, narrowed eyes darting every which way, scanning the path ahead for any imminent threats.
It appeared their forces had held down the first bridge successfully, the path clear and relatively undamaged. Beyond that - not so much. The winding rocky pass separating the first and second bridges was currently echoing with the shouts of men and cries of demons; the clashing of steel and snapping of fires. The party would not have to rush very far up the trail to find a group of soldiers being barraged by a fresh wave of demons. Though they had a relentlessness to match these creatures of the Fade, blood and nicks on their armor and weapons hinted at previous fights, and slippage and miscalculations in their attacks and counters betrayed the fact they were steadily getting fatigued. A fact that could turn deadly, quick.
"Fall back!" The lead soldier among them was shouting, and while they fought they were backing and retreating behind the hurried fortifications of spike walls and overturned wagons, hoping for a pause. Others were already behind the stockades, with archers firing potshots at two rage demons and their accompanying wraiths.
Tamrace was not prepared for this. All this clamor and movement, these unnerving, unnatural creatures... so much to account for so suddenly. He was struggling to focus on one thing at a time let alone decide his course of action. Shit - Shit! Right! Ancestors. Yes. Weapon... with shaken hands he reached for his bow. Then into his quiver. After closing his eyes and taking a restrained breath, Tamrace rushed over and slid behind one of the barricades, knocking a bone arrow and peeking around to search for the clearest target.
Meanwhile, a warrior was scrambling away from the heart of the battle, moving closer to the party. It was immediately apparent why; she held only her sword, her other arm busy supporting the weight of another, who was sporting burns and an alarming gash on his right calf. Not to mention he looked ready to pass out. Both of them were, really.
"Somebody! - get a medic! - he needs healing, quick!" Out of breath, the woman lowered her injured comrade behind the safety of a spike wall, away from immediate danger. Before she could do much else however she was hit by a bolt of fade magic square in the back, throwing her off balance and sending her rolling into the snow and dirt with a cry of pain.
PakkuVen
Kupo!
After they'd crossed the second bridge Gar realized to his horror he hadn't even considered warning those soldiers from cross the bridge when the seeker arrived later. The sickening feeling in his stomach kept building in his stomach as they climbed closer to the thick of battle. Logically he knew battle smelled something awful, but had forgotten until he could faintly smell it downwind. The noise built and their pace quickened slightly as they neared the fracas. Gar could feel a faint prickling on his skin he assumed was the pure fade energy from the rift ahead. If he had the processing power to think he would've noted what was going on before him but the now dragon-blooded man found himself overwhelmed not only by the suddenly realistic fear of death, but the cloying smells of the dying, their blood and shit, and sounds of battle that were sharper now with no stone resting between him and threats to his life.
He couldn't process what happened next entirely as Lysette grabbed him and pulled with all her might to get him moving behind cover. There was a woman. A man with an injury on his leg bleeding out suddenly on the ground where Gar crouched. He registered the word "Medic" and as he started to shift the woman fell into the snow, fade energy evaporating from her back. Gar almost felt himself freeze but before anyone else had time to drag the woman closer Gar turned to Tam, gesturing as he spoke. "Pressure above his cut; leg up; stop the bloodflow down!"
The wounded man was possibly urgent but the unseen wound to the woman's back could be an emergency. Gar pulled her firmly, but carefully, from Lysette and started checking her. Breath, pulse, visual inspection of the wound all in the same instant he was positioning her for further treatment. In the span of seconds he found her pulse, almost ridiculously easy, slow enough for concern considering her earlier distress. Shock often raised heart rate, why was her's slow?
"I need her armor off. Are we safe enough here?"
Gar was hardly idle as we waited for a response. He tore the shield from his arm as he hurriedly went through the pack looking for appropriate supplies, and wished the entire time they allowed him time to assess what he was carrying. Various medicinal looking containers didn't mean shit if he knew fuck all about them! Bandages, sutures....Gar would ask which vial was an antiseptic if he thought there was time for that under these circumstances. He was simply categorizing and preparing to demand they grab things from the pack that did certain things he needed things to do. Would they know words like antiseptic? Leli answered him. Lysette, not knowing he knew no healing magics, granted him permission to use them.
As she worked to remove the armor for Gar, who prepped the physical tools he needed, he looked to Leliana with a glance to his pack. "I can't read these. Her heart is failing. Do we have anything for that?" Short and to the point as he could think while trying to keep his voice level and devoid of the panic trying to claw out of his chest.
While she did her own search Gar had started counting the heart beats then timed CPR to work with her shallow breath. The woman was unconscious so it was difficult to do this correctly when he had zero experience doing this outside of a controlled environment. Leliana was there with two bottles in her hands. A medic she might not be but she knew her poisons, and was battle hardened besides. Medicine was, more often than not, poisons expertly applied to trick the body back into wellness. "This will thin her blood with 2 drops. This will quicken her heart with one. And healing potion." A small part of his brain compared the drop of the third bottle to someone slamming a bottle on the counter. 'God I want a drink' he thought.
In the end he didn't need any of that. She jerked awake swinging her arm as if there were a sword in it. "Easy there soldier." he intoned while delicately checking her pulse again. "Your heart nearly stopped. Focus on calming breaths. Leli help her." She was a bard she knew how to calm people.
Gar was already turning, ignorant of everyone's microexpressions to commanding The Nightgale in such a casual manner. By this point a curious Solas had made his way over after spotting the strange mage's healing technique. The elf also heard the templar Lysette comment she did not sense magic in what ever the human man did.
"I will cast a barrier should we need it." These templars were trained to suppress magic. He could not risk being struck with a smite.
The human, Garrot Hanu he recalled learning from the fade though something else echoed in how he said it. Language as people knew it was not remembered by the fade, but if one knew how....Solas's attention was turned to streak of energy soaring towards there position. The barrier spell was almost finished weaving, fast enough the bolt of energy would've collapsed harmlessly on the barrier. Except he sensed magic burst away from the human. Like lightning it intercepted the attack and exploded into...shards of crystalline energy was all he could think to describe it as. The energy of the offending spell refracted around the shards, harmlessly dissipating into the air. This was all in a moment. In the next moment Sola's barrier sprung into being.
"Fuck! Sorry!" The human winced and turned his attention back to his patient. That was the only outburst of magic from him as everyone deterred any further attacks. To his trained eye the human's attempt to sew the soldier's skin shut was fumbling. Solas also noticed the flare of his nostrils, his dilatated pupils and the way his Adam's apple dipped low as he worked his jaw... This told him a few things about the man he could not learn from the limits of the fade, from what little time he could spare to watch the interrogation. How could his plans have gone so wrong? The human was directed to a few other patients as the wounded were cycled back towards the forward camp.
When there was a moment of respite, at least for himself to recover as others fought, Solas approached the group that clustered around him. It was the same people as before, with exception of the nightgale. The dwarf, Varric, of course managed to saunter there first. "Well this was exciting! Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller here to help. Although being here wasn't exactly my idea to start."
"I have never seen healing skill such as yours." He said with a tilt of his head. "My name is-S" Before he could finish however the rift burst open violently and a myriad of demons materialized at once.
"Those ones are new" Varric commented on the terror demons.
"Shit. Watch it, they like to teleport under you!" Lysette, the ever prepared, was helping the human put a shield on his arm. She look and spoke to him sternly. "Don't be a hero! Use your magic only if you have to." So he was not allowed to participate in battle then? Curious considering he had not used a single healing spell as he tended to the fallen soldiers.
He couldn't process what happened next entirely as Lysette grabbed him and pulled with all her might to get him moving behind cover. There was a woman. A man with an injury on his leg bleeding out suddenly on the ground where Gar crouched. He registered the word "Medic" and as he started to shift the woman fell into the snow, fade energy evaporating from her back. Gar almost felt himself freeze but before anyone else had time to drag the woman closer Gar turned to Tam, gesturing as he spoke. "Pressure above his cut; leg up; stop the bloodflow down!"
The wounded man was possibly urgent but the unseen wound to the woman's back could be an emergency. Gar pulled her firmly, but carefully, from Lysette and started checking her. Breath, pulse, visual inspection of the wound all in the same instant he was positioning her for further treatment. In the span of seconds he found her pulse, almost ridiculously easy, slow enough for concern considering her earlier distress. Shock often raised heart rate, why was her's slow?
"I need her armor off. Are we safe enough here?"
Gar was hardly idle as we waited for a response. He tore the shield from his arm as he hurriedly went through the pack looking for appropriate supplies, and wished the entire time they allowed him time to assess what he was carrying. Various medicinal looking containers didn't mean shit if he knew fuck all about them! Bandages, sutures....Gar would ask which vial was an antiseptic if he thought there was time for that under these circumstances. He was simply categorizing and preparing to demand they grab things from the pack that did certain things he needed things to do. Would they know words like antiseptic? Leli answered him. Lysette, not knowing he knew no healing magics, granted him permission to use them.
As she worked to remove the armor for Gar, who prepped the physical tools he needed, he looked to Leliana with a glance to his pack. "I can't read these. Her heart is failing. Do we have anything for that?" Short and to the point as he could think while trying to keep his voice level and devoid of the panic trying to claw out of his chest.
While she did her own search Gar had started counting the heart beats then timed CPR to work with her shallow breath. The woman was unconscious so it was difficult to do this correctly when he had zero experience doing this outside of a controlled environment. Leliana was there with two bottles in her hands. A medic she might not be but she knew her poisons, and was battle hardened besides. Medicine was, more often than not, poisons expertly applied to trick the body back into wellness. "This will thin her blood with 2 drops. This will quicken her heart with one. And healing potion." A small part of his brain compared the drop of the third bottle to someone slamming a bottle on the counter. 'God I want a drink' he thought.
In the end he didn't need any of that. She jerked awake swinging her arm as if there were a sword in it. "Easy there soldier." he intoned while delicately checking her pulse again. "Your heart nearly stopped. Focus on calming breaths. Leli help her." She was a bard she knew how to calm people.
Gar was already turning, ignorant of everyone's microexpressions to commanding The Nightgale in such a casual manner. By this point a curious Solas had made his way over after spotting the strange mage's healing technique. The elf also heard the templar Lysette comment she did not sense magic in what ever the human man did.
"I will cast a barrier should we need it." These templars were trained to suppress magic. He could not risk being struck with a smite.
The human, Garrot Hanu he recalled learning from the fade though something else echoed in how he said it. Language as people knew it was not remembered by the fade, but if one knew how....Solas's attention was turned to streak of energy soaring towards there position. The barrier spell was almost finished weaving, fast enough the bolt of energy would've collapsed harmlessly on the barrier. Except he sensed magic burst away from the human. Like lightning it intercepted the attack and exploded into...shards of crystalline energy was all he could think to describe it as. The energy of the offending spell refracted around the shards, harmlessly dissipating into the air. This was all in a moment. In the next moment Sola's barrier sprung into being.
"Fuck! Sorry!" The human winced and turned his attention back to his patient. That was the only outburst of magic from him as everyone deterred any further attacks. To his trained eye the human's attempt to sew the soldier's skin shut was fumbling. Solas also noticed the flare of his nostrils, his dilatated pupils and the way his Adam's apple dipped low as he worked his jaw... This told him a few things about the man he could not learn from the limits of the fade, from what little time he could spare to watch the interrogation. How could his plans have gone so wrong? The human was directed to a few other patients as the wounded were cycled back towards the forward camp.
When there was a moment of respite, at least for himself to recover as others fought, Solas approached the group that clustered around him. It was the same people as before, with exception of the nightgale. The dwarf, Varric, of course managed to saunter there first. "Well this was exciting! Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller here to help. Although being here wasn't exactly my idea to start."
"I have never seen healing skill such as yours." He said with a tilt of his head. "My name is-S" Before he could finish however the rift burst open violently and a myriad of demons materialized at once.
"Those ones are new" Varric commented on the terror demons.
"Shit. Watch it, they like to teleport under you!" Lysette, the ever prepared, was helping the human put a shield on his arm. She look and spoke to him sternly. "Don't be a hero! Use your magic only if you have to." So he was not allowed to participate in battle then? Curious considering he had not used a single healing spell as he tended to the fallen soldiers.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Tamrace had become momentarily distracted from his aiming when the two soldiers came into the scene. The sequence of events seemed to happen in a blink in his eyes. First, they rushed nearer - then, the injured man was dropped behind cover - and within an instant both of them were down as the woman was taken to the ground with a blast of energy. In the corner of his view he noticed Gar getting ready to move and try to work his healing capabilities - but this was fleeting as Tamrace's next thought was to fight against the urge to clamber over and help and to instead focus on the trajectory path the magical bolt might have traveled. Following the tracks he imagined in his head before he dialed in on the assailant - a wraith hovering above a shelf of rock, with a clear line of sight but also quite exposed.
Tamrace stepped from cover. Sucked in another breath, pulled his bowstring back.
Before the wraith could fire another shot at the vulnerable woman - the Scout shot first. A satisfying twang of the bow was followed by a ghastly sound as the ethereal presence burst into green mist and evaporated. There might have still been more wraiths about but at least the immediate threat to the woman was eliminated, and Gar was granted a momentary peace in which to administer aid.
Tamrace was about to prepare another arrow when he caught someone speaking to him - he turned his head - oh, it was Gar. Ordering him to do something with the man with the injured leg... pressure above, leg up? - Gar might've noticed Tamrace almost dumbly blink at him for a second. Listening and registering his words and gesticulating. Oh, did the redhead hate sudden, urgent commands - because he tended to be slow in following as his mind liked to bounce everything around, as if his head was a long, empty, winding tunnel and someone was screaming really loud into it. And all the other stimuli around them wasn't helping matters. But he thought he understood enough. Gar at least wouldn't have to repeat himself as Tamrace fumbled to slip his bow back onto his person and scrambled closer to the injured soldier.
Pressure above his cut.... Tamrace reached down, laying his cloth-wrapped palm to the correct spot and pushing weight onto it. Leg up - he slipped his free arm underneath and lifted the leg up while keeping the pressure maintained above the wound. It was a good thing he wasn't squeamish with blood and gore, at least...
Being an impromptu healing assistant was not the role he expected to be playing, but he was happy to do so nonetheless. From what he could see Gar's technique was already producing results as the bloodflow was lessening. He kept at it until he'd be told that was enough, and all the while he was both glancing towards the heart of the battle, and towards Gar and the rest of their little group. Hm. Between what he'd been told to do and what Gar had performed on the woman, Tamrace was equally surprised and impressed. He'd have to make a particular note of these things to Stasi when he returned... well, if he returned. Being a healer herself, he's sure she'd want to know these methods.
Tamrace wasn't even about to comment on the weird burst of crystaline magic that flickered and faded seemingly in a wink. With Stasi being a mage he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with spells, yet that display was something unlike what he's observed her to do. A little thought in his head also remarked that, in the short moment he noticed it - it was quite pretty. Overall though, he was just grateful it had deflected what could have been another near-fatal attack to someone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alright. Tamrace was getting the feeling he should really start getting used to weird magic outbursts now. Even though the tide looked to be turning and the battle was dying down, the period of respite did not last very long. He only got to briefly watch and wonder as Varric and Solas approached; he recognized Solas from the cells, and while he couldn't say the same for Varric he did stare at the dwarf curiously. Pleasantries however were cut short at the aforementioned weird magic outburst from what looked to be a tinier version of the storm in the sky.
Tamrace was much more assured as he grabbed his bow this time around. Even at the sight of this new type of foe, tall and lanky and honestly the most grotesque-looking thus far, he at least knew now that his arrows could strike true in these things. While soldiers charged and rages and wraiths lunged the Scout aimed above them all, at one of the terror demons. He could not see the portal that was opening underneath it, did not recognize as it began to bend down. Without hesitation he let loose an arrow -
And it soared through the air, catching a tree, the terror lunging into its portal.
- Wait! Lysette just said it could teleport?...
.... under you.....
Tamrace glanced down.
Oh, shit.
On one hand, he reacted in time to escape the terror's grasp - but that wasn't enough to avoid it completely. Within a second he'd find himself being thrown back as the terror lunged upwards. The thick snow cushioned the impact upon his back and head as he landed - yet now he was lying in the shadow of this looming, taunting terror, bow just out of reach.
He knew he was going to die today.... oh Ancestors, wherever you are..... he didn't even know where they were.....
.... No. He couldn't die today!
"Not today, motherfucker!" He hardly realized he said that out loud. Shouted it out loud more so. Flight or flight kicked into overdrive so hard that he didn't even have to think as he reached into his pouch and threw a bone shard at the terror. Then another. Then another... all the while scrambling backwards, trying to put distance between it and him. Demon ichor was spritzing down onto his face, thankfully protected by his scarf, but he didn't even process it. Just as he didn't process if anyone around him was going to come to his rescue.
Gar and Lysette, at least, might not have the chance to... because as they might come to notice, another portal was forming at their feet, created by a second terror about to pounce.
Tamrace stepped from cover. Sucked in another breath, pulled his bowstring back.
Before the wraith could fire another shot at the vulnerable woman - the Scout shot first. A satisfying twang of the bow was followed by a ghastly sound as the ethereal presence burst into green mist and evaporated. There might have still been more wraiths about but at least the immediate threat to the woman was eliminated, and Gar was granted a momentary peace in which to administer aid.
Tamrace was about to prepare another arrow when he caught someone speaking to him - he turned his head - oh, it was Gar. Ordering him to do something with the man with the injured leg... pressure above, leg up? - Gar might've noticed Tamrace almost dumbly blink at him for a second. Listening and registering his words and gesticulating. Oh, did the redhead hate sudden, urgent commands - because he tended to be slow in following as his mind liked to bounce everything around, as if his head was a long, empty, winding tunnel and someone was screaming really loud into it. And all the other stimuli around them wasn't helping matters. But he thought he understood enough. Gar at least wouldn't have to repeat himself as Tamrace fumbled to slip his bow back onto his person and scrambled closer to the injured soldier.
Pressure above his cut.... Tamrace reached down, laying his cloth-wrapped palm to the correct spot and pushing weight onto it. Leg up - he slipped his free arm underneath and lifted the leg up while keeping the pressure maintained above the wound. It was a good thing he wasn't squeamish with blood and gore, at least...
Being an impromptu healing assistant was not the role he expected to be playing, but he was happy to do so nonetheless. From what he could see Gar's technique was already producing results as the bloodflow was lessening. He kept at it until he'd be told that was enough, and all the while he was both glancing towards the heart of the battle, and towards Gar and the rest of their little group. Hm. Between what he'd been told to do and what Gar had performed on the woman, Tamrace was equally surprised and impressed. He'd have to make a particular note of these things to Stasi when he returned... well, if he returned. Being a healer herself, he's sure she'd want to know these methods.
Tamrace wasn't even about to comment on the weird burst of crystaline magic that flickered and faded seemingly in a wink. With Stasi being a mage he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with spells, yet that display was something unlike what he's observed her to do. A little thought in his head also remarked that, in the short moment he noticed it - it was quite pretty. Overall though, he was just grateful it had deflected what could have been another near-fatal attack to someone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alright. Tamrace was getting the feeling he should really start getting used to weird magic outbursts now. Even though the tide looked to be turning and the battle was dying down, the period of respite did not last very long. He only got to briefly watch and wonder as Varric and Solas approached; he recognized Solas from the cells, and while he couldn't say the same for Varric he did stare at the dwarf curiously. Pleasantries however were cut short at the aforementioned weird magic outburst from what looked to be a tinier version of the storm in the sky.
Tamrace was much more assured as he grabbed his bow this time around. Even at the sight of this new type of foe, tall and lanky and honestly the most grotesque-looking thus far, he at least knew now that his arrows could strike true in these things. While soldiers charged and rages and wraiths lunged the Scout aimed above them all, at one of the terror demons. He could not see the portal that was opening underneath it, did not recognize as it began to bend down. Without hesitation he let loose an arrow -
And it soared through the air, catching a tree, the terror lunging into its portal.
- Wait! Lysette just said it could teleport?...
.... under you.....
Tamrace glanced down.
Oh, shit.
On one hand, he reacted in time to escape the terror's grasp - but that wasn't enough to avoid it completely. Within a second he'd find himself being thrown back as the terror lunged upwards. The thick snow cushioned the impact upon his back and head as he landed - yet now he was lying in the shadow of this looming, taunting terror, bow just out of reach.
He knew he was going to die today.... oh Ancestors, wherever you are..... he didn't even know where they were.....
.... No. He couldn't die today!
"Not today, motherfucker!" He hardly realized he said that out loud. Shouted it out loud more so. Flight or flight kicked into overdrive so hard that he didn't even have to think as he reached into his pouch and threw a bone shard at the terror. Then another. Then another... all the while scrambling backwards, trying to put distance between it and him. Demon ichor was spritzing down onto his face, thankfully protected by his scarf, but he didn't even process it. Just as he didn't process if anyone around him was going to come to his rescue.
Gar and Lysette, at least, might not have the chance to... because as they might come to notice, another portal was forming at their feet, created by a second terror about to pounce.
PakkuVen
Kupo!
By the time Gar was nearly finished sewing up the man's leg, and that instinctive burst of magic that miraculously worked out just fine, he realized he had been rather rude to Tam. Though the smaller man didn't seem to mind so much that he just (metaphorically) threw a patient at him like that. Gar could rest easier now that he apologized. And then the bloody battle that is healing the hurting began again, with Tam willingly helping him. He was encouraging to have in all of this. Oddly enough focusing on helping others helped Gar to stay emotionally grounded.
-----------------------------------
He was very conscious of the cold's effects on his body as he stretched his limbs and got his shield arm ready. But all this wasn't real yet anyway since his dreams never fully stimulated the bite of freezing air anyway. Despite such thoughts sitting in the back of his mind he couldn't help the fear forcing his heart to hammer within his chest.
The inexperienced mage was relying on the experience of those around him. He noticed they had drifted apart in a mostly melee-mage-ranged formation. Granted the number of mages was pretty slim, and Gar wasn't allowed to cast. Though the distance between them all wasn't large it sure felt like it at the same time. And while her swordsmanship was impressive those damn arcane bolt things had pushed his wooden shield to its limit. It was distressing. Gar's magic was itching to be released, he did not like being a burden on others. The sudden disappearance of one of the terror demons set alarms off in Gar's mind. He managed to catch sight of the portal below Tam at the same time he did. His new friend was on the ground desperately fighting for his life while Gar warred with Lysette's warnings. When did he default to stupid obedience again? Just as his mind was made up a he sensed magic beneath them.
You wouldn't think years of video games could come in handy for much. Knowing Dragon Age lore was too niche to be useful anywhere, and he never had to yell simple commands like he did in shooter games. That automatic callouts were useful for once. "ONE BELOW. DODGE!" was shouted as he pushed his feet off the ground and started drawing energy for a barrier.
Gar was not used to his new dimensions and miscalculated with a clumsy fall upon his shield arm. At least his barrier formed just fine! It was hard to describe the sensation of a nearly fatal attack rebounding on your barrier. Just as it was hard to describe the way its crystalline shape shattered, then reformed like a liquid almost. Gar didn't have time to ponder such thoughts as he drew upon his memory of a popular spell back home from a game with dozens of installments. "Fus!"
It wasn't the full spell, enough to stagger the horrific creature back as Gar scrambled to his feet. His barrier expanded at the front, "Spaan" Shield, and as it closed around the demon like a jaw snapping shut he put bite behind the words "Nos Vey." Strike Cut The were no words to describe the kind of sounds it made under the assault. It was like spiders crawled under his skin and in his ears. Blessedly he did not have to endure it for long when it finally died. Were it not for circumstances he would've thought its essence returning to the fade had a sort of beauty to it
Some of the demon's body still remained, not evaporating and leaving behind glowy sand like they did in the game. Huh. Maybe because their body was more physical that the others?
Gar pivoted on the balls of his feet towards Tam. The magic of his barrier around the demon reshaping into an invisible force as he geared up to throw this motherfucker at the other one. Except Solas's ice encasing the demon denoted enough time had passed for Tam receive aid from another. Oops...Gar already threw his demon. In a panic he formed a partial barrier, as he had earlier to stop an arcane bolt, only this time it was there to protect Tam from debris.
Everyone probably wished for respite as the last terror demon fell, leaving only a few wraiths keeping their distance. Gar was feeling the drain of casting in quick succession as a green soldier would have felt from overextending their sword arm. Fortunately he wasn't alone. Archers and arbalest, like Varric, were exchanging shots with the wraiths. Solas seemed assured enough that matters were in hand over here and turned his attention back to keeping barriers on the front. Though that line was looking more jagged than it did earlier...
Lysette was in front of him again, with her superior shield still completely intact. Meanwhile the remaining half of his shield on his arm was hardly any protection at all. "Can you keep your barrier up?" Gar checked the almost invisible part of himself nodded that he could at least maintain a barrier around himself. He looked over to Tam in question. Was he okay? Where was he going to go?
-----------------------------------
He was very conscious of the cold's effects on his body as he stretched his limbs and got his shield arm ready. But all this wasn't real yet anyway since his dreams never fully stimulated the bite of freezing air anyway. Despite such thoughts sitting in the back of his mind he couldn't help the fear forcing his heart to hammer within his chest.
The inexperienced mage was relying on the experience of those around him. He noticed they had drifted apart in a mostly melee-mage-ranged formation. Granted the number of mages was pretty slim, and Gar wasn't allowed to cast. Though the distance between them all wasn't large it sure felt like it at the same time. And while her swordsmanship was impressive those damn arcane bolt things had pushed his wooden shield to its limit. It was distressing. Gar's magic was itching to be released, he did not like being a burden on others. The sudden disappearance of one of the terror demons set alarms off in Gar's mind. He managed to catch sight of the portal below Tam at the same time he did. His new friend was on the ground desperately fighting for his life while Gar warred with Lysette's warnings. When did he default to stupid obedience again? Just as his mind was made up a he sensed magic beneath them.
You wouldn't think years of video games could come in handy for much. Knowing Dragon Age lore was too niche to be useful anywhere, and he never had to yell simple commands like he did in shooter games. That automatic callouts were useful for once. "ONE BELOW. DODGE!" was shouted as he pushed his feet off the ground and started drawing energy for a barrier.
Gar was not used to his new dimensions and miscalculated with a clumsy fall upon his shield arm. At least his barrier formed just fine! It was hard to describe the sensation of a nearly fatal attack rebounding on your barrier. Just as it was hard to describe the way its crystalline shape shattered, then reformed like a liquid almost. Gar didn't have time to ponder such thoughts as he drew upon his memory of a popular spell back home from a game with dozens of installments. "Fus!"
It wasn't the full spell, enough to stagger the horrific creature back as Gar scrambled to his feet. His barrier expanded at the front, "Spaan" Shield, and as it closed around the demon like a jaw snapping shut he put bite behind the words "Nos Vey." Strike Cut The were no words to describe the kind of sounds it made under the assault. It was like spiders crawled under his skin and in his ears. Blessedly he did not have to endure it for long when it finally died. Were it not for circumstances he would've thought its essence returning to the fade had a sort of beauty to it
Some of the demon's body still remained, not evaporating and leaving behind glowy sand like they did in the game. Huh. Maybe because their body was more physical that the others?
Gar pivoted on the balls of his feet towards Tam. The magic of his barrier around the demon reshaping into an invisible force as he geared up to throw this motherfucker at the other one. Except Solas's ice encasing the demon denoted enough time had passed for Tam receive aid from another. Oops...Gar already threw his demon. In a panic he formed a partial barrier, as he had earlier to stop an arcane bolt, only this time it was there to protect Tam from debris.
Everyone probably wished for respite as the last terror demon fell, leaving only a few wraiths keeping their distance. Gar was feeling the drain of casting in quick succession as a green soldier would have felt from overextending their sword arm. Fortunately he wasn't alone. Archers and arbalest, like Varric, were exchanging shots with the wraiths. Solas seemed assured enough that matters were in hand over here and turned his attention back to keeping barriers on the front. Though that line was looking more jagged than it did earlier...
Lysette was in front of him again, with her superior shield still completely intact. Meanwhile the remaining half of his shield on his arm was hardly any protection at all. "Can you keep your barrier up?" Gar checked the almost invisible part of himself nodded that he could at least maintain a barrier around himself. He looked over to Tam in question. Was he okay? Where was he going to go?
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Tamrace's time to act was rapidly closing. His bone shards worked to stagger the terror with swift and repeated jabs of pain, but in his current position they were not thrown with as much power as they could, certainly not as effective as an arrow would, and were not causing much significant damage. The man's eyes never tore away; he noted his previous obliviousness and now obsessively watched the demon's body language for anything indicative of it's next move.
Fortunate he did. The terror paused in it's long stride - with legs bending it began to hunch down, though no portal opened under it. It was getting ready to spring directly at Tamrace.
Movements quickening in equal parts panic and adrenaline Tamrace clambered at last into a position where he could reach for another weapon. His mind already worked out what he needed to do; practically the only thing he could do. Grab a spear, hold it between him and his enemy as it pounces - and pray to the ancestors it might impale itself on it before it could lay a claw on him.
And yet... he wouldn't have time to find out if it worked.
As soon as the terror jumped - before it's last foot left the ground - Tamrace saw and even felt a cold blast sweep over and hit the demon. In an instant it was trapped in an icy shell. Mid-attack. And suddenly it looked... almost graceful. Now that it was not about to kill him. Once Tamrace was done gawking at the demon-turned-statue, his head whipped around every which way, seeking whoever it was that had caused that to happen. It was then he noticed Solas not far off.
And yet... he wouldn't have time to thank the elven apostate!
The other terror Gar had dispatched zoomed into his peripheral like a hurled spear. At once it collided with it's frozen comrade. Ice fractured, shattered, and blasted outwards - the debris created bounced harmlessly from Gar's barrier wall, allowing Tamrace to watch unworried and astonished at the brief storm of essence, ash, ice and ichor.
An accidentally artful way to kill a demon, huh?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Gar looked over to Tamrace, he find the smaller man just now rising to his feet. Longspear in hand, though he stepped over to retrieve his bow, slinging it over his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief as he noticed the battle winding down to a few wraiths, soon to taken care of. His limbs were shaky, perhaps from the mix of adrenaline as well as panic - and cold. The whole backside of his clothing was dusted and clumped with snow. A detail Tamrace neglected to take care of at the moment, because as soon as he was certain the coast was clear he went to approach Solas and Gar.
"Gar! And Sol, err, something?" They might not be able to see the grin on his face, but they could see the smile in his hazel eyes. "You both save me from a terrible and unknown fate. If we are all still alive by the end of this - I owe you both hugs!"
It was amazing how giddy he sounded all of a sudden. Perhaps he was just that grateful.
In reality that was only a part of it. The other part was him quashing down and distracting himself from the horror of what could have happened if they hadn't intervened just in time; a moment that could have brought with it an uncomfortably familiar, inescapable, and downright horrifying feeling....
Fortunate he did. The terror paused in it's long stride - with legs bending it began to hunch down, though no portal opened under it. It was getting ready to spring directly at Tamrace.
Movements quickening in equal parts panic and adrenaline Tamrace clambered at last into a position where he could reach for another weapon. His mind already worked out what he needed to do; practically the only thing he could do. Grab a spear, hold it between him and his enemy as it pounces - and pray to the ancestors it might impale itself on it before it could lay a claw on him.
And yet... he wouldn't have time to find out if it worked.
As soon as the terror jumped - before it's last foot left the ground - Tamrace saw and even felt a cold blast sweep over and hit the demon. In an instant it was trapped in an icy shell. Mid-attack. And suddenly it looked... almost graceful. Now that it was not about to kill him. Once Tamrace was done gawking at the demon-turned-statue, his head whipped around every which way, seeking whoever it was that had caused that to happen. It was then he noticed Solas not far off.
And yet... he wouldn't have time to thank the elven apostate!
The other terror Gar had dispatched zoomed into his peripheral like a hurled spear. At once it collided with it's frozen comrade. Ice fractured, shattered, and blasted outwards - the debris created bounced harmlessly from Gar's barrier wall, allowing Tamrace to watch unworried and astonished at the brief storm of essence, ash, ice and ichor.
An accidentally artful way to kill a demon, huh?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Gar looked over to Tamrace, he find the smaller man just now rising to his feet. Longspear in hand, though he stepped over to retrieve his bow, slinging it over his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief as he noticed the battle winding down to a few wraiths, soon to taken care of. His limbs were shaky, perhaps from the mix of adrenaline as well as panic - and cold. The whole backside of his clothing was dusted and clumped with snow. A detail Tamrace neglected to take care of at the moment, because as soon as he was certain the coast was clear he went to approach Solas and Gar.
"Gar! And Sol, err, something?" They might not be able to see the grin on his face, but they could see the smile in his hazel eyes. "You both save me from a terrible and unknown fate. If we are all still alive by the end of this - I owe you both hugs!"
It was amazing how giddy he sounded all of a sudden. Perhaps he was just that grateful.
In reality that was only a part of it. The other part was him quashing down and distracting himself from the horror of what could have happened if they hadn't intervened just in time; a moment that could have brought with it an uncomfortably familiar, inescapable, and downright horrifying feeling....
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Tam strode over to them, Gar still couldn't get used to looking so far down at someone and not think "smol". And the ginger's giddy "I owe you both hugs!" would have been adorable either way. It shocked laugh out of Gar that teetered into a giggle. A manly giggle.
"It's Solas" he corrected reflexively, only realizing his mistake when Solas's bemused expression shifted to a considering frown.
Gar chose to barrel on forward with humor. "As long as they aren't surprise hugs I shall accept your generous repayment good sir." He sketched a half bow. Lysette nudged him to pay attention to his surroundings. In response he expanded his barrier to include everyone around him. It softly flash a light blue then all but disappeared from view. If one peered closely it looked as if the were standing behind glass. Though the last wraith had fallen, so everyone hopefully had more time to rest.
A combination of the momentary calm and Tam's tension breaker eased Gar's anxiety enough he was instantly aware of an empty pang in his stomach. Everyone else also made aware of this.
"It's Solas" he corrected reflexively, only realizing his mistake when Solas's bemused expression shifted to a considering frown.
Gar chose to barrel on forward with humor. "As long as they aren't surprise hugs I shall accept your generous repayment good sir." He sketched a half bow. Lysette nudged him to pay attention to his surroundings. In response he expanded his barrier to include everyone around him. It softly flash a light blue then all but disappeared from view. If one peered closely it looked as if the were standing behind glass. Though the last wraith had fallen, so everyone hopefully had more time to rest.
A combination of the momentary calm and Tam's tension breaker eased Gar's anxiety enough he was instantly aware of an empty pang in his stomach. Everyone else also made aware of this.
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
If Tamrace caught how it was odd that Gar already knew Solas' name, and Solas' appropriately contemplative reaction, he did not comment on it. Instead he merely nodded at the elven mage, "Solas, yes. Thank you."
He then returned a chuckle as he looked back and watched Gar bow, "But I will be sure to give fair warning beforehand!" A brief thought flickered in his mind that - damn, this man was tall. He had to tilt his head to an uncomfortable degree just to meet the man's eyes - eyes which had a strange, serpentine appearance to them, he also noted within the same moment. Perhaps he'd noticed before, but now that they were at last standing free in a moment of calm, he only now got to really put it into perspective. With the fight petering out for the moment, maybe they'd have more time to talk.
And rest.
And maybe even eat?
.....
Oh! Well, uh, it seemed Gar's stomach agreed. If he was honest Tamrace was starved himself, though he did not try to show it. Would it be detrimental to be rewarded some food for helping with the battles? Not that the redhead would dare ask. Besides - the rift remained. Reduced to sparking and crackling instead of bursting to life with demons, it was enough to keep most everyone on their toes. Some of the still-healthy soldiers stood guard in anticipation for it to surge again. Any new wounded, or severely fatigued, stood back for a breather. It would be then when one of them approached the Gar and Tam.
"Ey! You both," The Templar was still not too lax in the presence of a mage - two, if you included Solas nearby - but there was no denying the gratitude in his breathless voice. "Noticed you two helping heal some others earlier. Some of my friends were among them, I know, and if it weren't for the effort they may've had a worse shot at living. So - thank you. Thank you truly." A faint smile followed, and the soldier gestured to the small group formed. "Know it ain't much, but we all have some rations on us. If you fancy sittin' down for what respite we can afford."
He then returned a chuckle as he looked back and watched Gar bow, "But I will be sure to give fair warning beforehand!" A brief thought flickered in his mind that - damn, this man was tall. He had to tilt his head to an uncomfortable degree just to meet the man's eyes - eyes which had a strange, serpentine appearance to them, he also noted within the same moment. Perhaps he'd noticed before, but now that they were at last standing free in a moment of calm, he only now got to really put it into perspective. With the fight petering out for the moment, maybe they'd have more time to talk.
And rest.
And maybe even eat?
.....
Oh! Well, uh, it seemed Gar's stomach agreed. If he was honest Tamrace was starved himself, though he did not try to show it. Would it be detrimental to be rewarded some food for helping with the battles? Not that the redhead would dare ask. Besides - the rift remained. Reduced to sparking and crackling instead of bursting to life with demons, it was enough to keep most everyone on their toes. Some of the still-healthy soldiers stood guard in anticipation for it to surge again. Any new wounded, or severely fatigued, stood back for a breather. It would be then when one of them approached the Gar and Tam.
"Ey! You both," The Templar was still not too lax in the presence of a mage - two, if you included Solas nearby - but there was no denying the gratitude in his breathless voice. "Noticed you two helping heal some others earlier. Some of my friends were among them, I know, and if it weren't for the effort they may've had a worse shot at living. So - thank you. Thank you truly." A faint smile followed, and the soldier gestured to the small group formed. "Know it ain't much, but we all have some rations on us. If you fancy sittin' down for what respite we can afford."
Last edited:
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Solas, the only other mage around, was probably alone in noticing how Gar's barrier shifted when the other templar approached. It left an impression of a cat crouching. Ready to pounce, or flee. Then the tension was gone, comically the giant man's pupils grew into large saucers at the mention of food. "Yes please! uh- and you're very welcome. I learned a bit of emergency healing for a reason." he said with a sheepish look and hands clasped in front of him. You could practically see him drooling at the prospect of food. Even if they were just rations.
The templar looked amused, taking some harshness out of his next words. "Right. But ya have to drop the barrier first mage."
Gar's lips pinched together before he smiled again and rolled his eyes. "I'm Gar." Absently he wondered about the man's accent. It sounded like home but...what did that mean around here?
"Just a moment." The barrier rapidly shrank inwards towards his chest; passing harmlessly through everyone. Some of the energy he absorbed, though most of it dispersed into the air once he exhaled. "What's there to ea- what?"
The templar eyed him warily, almost seeming to regret coming over. His control seemed too good for a newly manifested mage with no staff. Blessedly he was not of mind to take his offer back. One of the men with him was carrying a sack and started handing out food. Gar's pupils grew wide again for a moment before he took a bite of jerky like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten. Less than a minute later the rift crackled. Everyone's reaction time, including Gar, did not falter. Shields came up as they backed up behind cover. They were still weary from the last fight, besides there were others who could take care of it. The other group finished up with the demons in good time, but taking more injuries as a result of both mages currently recuperating behind the barricades. Everyone was mostly too occupied to talk. Except Varric of course who wrestled names out of everyone.
"I've seen a lot of magic in my time, even from Qunari mages. But none like yours Drago- hmm maybe not that. So...where'd you learn?" Gar shrugged while he tried to quickly chew so he could speak. "I had lots of nightmares growing up. Eventually I figured out I could use magic to fight back in my dreams."
A few of them tensed at the idea demons targeting him before magic became out of control. "So you are a hedge-mage."
Gar shook his head at the statement. "Except I can't use use magic in the waking world." That got him a few looks that made him uncomfortable. "I'm...still not sure this is real either."
Varric breezily gestured with his own piece of jerky. "You aren't alone in wishing this was all a bad dream. Isn't that right Chuckles?"
"Indeed. Your arrival with the nightingale was fortuitous. " he said acknowledging Lysette , and Tamrace who appeared content to observe. Solas wished to know more about them but could not ask when it might result in questions turned back on him. Even though everyone behaved kindly the undercurrent of suspicion was palpable.
The templar looked amused, taking some harshness out of his next words. "Right. But ya have to drop the barrier first mage."
Gar's lips pinched together before he smiled again and rolled his eyes. "I'm Gar." Absently he wondered about the man's accent. It sounded like home but...what did that mean around here?
"Just a moment." The barrier rapidly shrank inwards towards his chest; passing harmlessly through everyone. Some of the energy he absorbed, though most of it dispersed into the air once he exhaled. "What's there to ea- what?"
The templar eyed him warily, almost seeming to regret coming over. His control seemed too good for a newly manifested mage with no staff. Blessedly he was not of mind to take his offer back. One of the men with him was carrying a sack and started handing out food. Gar's pupils grew wide again for a moment before he took a bite of jerky like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten. Less than a minute later the rift crackled. Everyone's reaction time, including Gar, did not falter. Shields came up as they backed up behind cover. They were still weary from the last fight, besides there were others who could take care of it. The other group finished up with the demons in good time, but taking more injuries as a result of both mages currently recuperating behind the barricades. Everyone was mostly too occupied to talk. Except Varric of course who wrestled names out of everyone.
"I've seen a lot of magic in my time, even from Qunari mages. But none like yours Drago- hmm maybe not that. So...where'd you learn?" Gar shrugged while he tried to quickly chew so he could speak. "I had lots of nightmares growing up. Eventually I figured out I could use magic to fight back in my dreams."
A few of them tensed at the idea demons targeting him before magic became out of control. "So you are a hedge-mage."
Gar shook his head at the statement. "Except I can't use use magic in the waking world." That got him a few looks that made him uncomfortable. "I'm...still not sure this is real either."
Varric breezily gestured with his own piece of jerky. "You aren't alone in wishing this was all a bad dream. Isn't that right Chuckles?"
"Indeed. Your arrival with the nightingale was fortuitous. " he said acknowledging Lysette , and Tamrace who appeared content to observe. Solas wished to know more about them but could not ask when it might result in questions turned back on him. Even though everyone behaved kindly the undercurrent of suspicion was palpable.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
It wasn't easy to take this opportunity to unwind. Tamrace found himself stealing glances to the magical tear uncomfortably nearby far more than he realized he was. Though it wasn't solely due to this that he had stood aside while the group went to the men's supply of rations; he convinced his growling stomach that it wasn't as worse off as everyone else, and that he wanted to make sure everyone else got something, even if he knew well there was enough food for them all and more.
This was just a silly little habit.
And of course, the world didn't want him to eat either, judging by how the rift cracked just as he stuck his hand into the sack of food.
It took some convincing that the other soldiers could hold their own this time, before Tamrace finally resigned to sit down with Gar, Varric, Solas, and a few of the templars, a hard heel piece of bread in his hand, his scarf now unwound and pooling at his shoulders so he could actually eat it. He wondered exactly what this was, but eh - it was food. Something to idly nibble away at as he listened to the ensuing conversation about magic and bad dreams. The redhead was nearly inclined to comment - even he found Gar's brand of magic odd, and impressively stable, if he could judge from his own experience of witnessing Stasi grow into her own ability over the years.
But he did not. He was keen enough to have felt the tension, seen the looks, and hear the way it was spoken of throughout this time to deduce magic was not a subject to throw around with abandon in the eyes of these people. The degree of which he may not fully understand, but it was enough to give him more cause for concern about how safe his adoptive kin were in this land.
"How about you?" Now eyes turned upon Tamrace. Solas may have been too careful to broach questions, but Varric was not. He looked at the redhead with intent and a smirk, most likely already working to pick an appropriate nickname for him as well. "You look like you'd rather fall asleep and gamble for a better dream."
"Bah. I agree with Gar. And I wish to wake up. Any moment, now! I have had enough excitement already, return me to the desert, thank you...."
The dwarf furrowed a brow, "Desert, huh? As in Western Orlais? Now that's a new one..." Then came a chuckle - "Then I'm sure you're already skilled in trying not to die in cruel and unusual ways."
Western Orlais? Again with strange names. Tamrace shrugged, chewing and swallowing before responding. A humored smile creased his lips. "Yes, a great many ways to die in the sands! But at least I knew what could potentially kill me. Here, there's threats of rocks falling on our heads, twisted creatures mauling us, or that damned green storm above opening up and swallowing us all! Who knows what next is in store for us? Because I sure don't know!"
"Well they say variety is the spice of life, Sparrow. Can't say I'd rather take heatstroke over demons though. At least demons are something Bianca can make quick work of." Said Varric, his unoccupied hand casually motioning to his signature crossbow on his back, which Tamrace peeked at in great interest, now that he had time to.
This was just a silly little habit.
And of course, the world didn't want him to eat either, judging by how the rift cracked just as he stuck his hand into the sack of food.
It took some convincing that the other soldiers could hold their own this time, before Tamrace finally resigned to sit down with Gar, Varric, Solas, and a few of the templars, a hard heel piece of bread in his hand, his scarf now unwound and pooling at his shoulders so he could actually eat it. He wondered exactly what this was, but eh - it was food. Something to idly nibble away at as he listened to the ensuing conversation about magic and bad dreams. The redhead was nearly inclined to comment - even he found Gar's brand of magic odd, and impressively stable, if he could judge from his own experience of witnessing Stasi grow into her own ability over the years.
But he did not. He was keen enough to have felt the tension, seen the looks, and hear the way it was spoken of throughout this time to deduce magic was not a subject to throw around with abandon in the eyes of these people. The degree of which he may not fully understand, but it was enough to give him more cause for concern about how safe his adoptive kin were in this land.
"How about you?" Now eyes turned upon Tamrace. Solas may have been too careful to broach questions, but Varric was not. He looked at the redhead with intent and a smirk, most likely already working to pick an appropriate nickname for him as well. "You look like you'd rather fall asleep and gamble for a better dream."
"Bah. I agree with Gar. And I wish to wake up. Any moment, now! I have had enough excitement already, return me to the desert, thank you...."
The dwarf furrowed a brow, "Desert, huh? As in Western Orlais? Now that's a new one..." Then came a chuckle - "Then I'm sure you're already skilled in trying not to die in cruel and unusual ways."
Western Orlais? Again with strange names. Tamrace shrugged, chewing and swallowing before responding. A humored smile creased his lips. "Yes, a great many ways to die in the sands! But at least I knew what could potentially kill me. Here, there's threats of rocks falling on our heads, twisted creatures mauling us, or that damned green storm above opening up and swallowing us all! Who knows what next is in store for us? Because I sure don't know!"
"Well they say variety is the spice of life, Sparrow. Can't say I'd rather take heatstroke over demons though. At least demons are something Bianca can make quick work of." Said Varric, his unoccupied hand casually motioning to his signature crossbow on his back, which Tamrace peeked at in great interest, now that he had time to.
PakkuVen
Kupo!
So Tam was from the desert? He couldn't remember any mention of locals that way but he supposed there would be. He reexamined the man's clothing; it made sense. While the deserts could get cold and windy...he imagined it wasn't made for keeping water out.
Gar huffed at that. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. ...It's an old saying from home." he refused to acknowledge the pang in his chest in favor of more looks these people were giving him. "I for one would rather deal with typical city folk problems."
It was as if the demon on the other side heard this and decided "fuck that". There was a reverberating crack and the rift open up again. It was a big wave coming in, most of them rage. "Yay." he said with a sarcastic wiggling of his hands near his head.
Lysette immediately chided him to take this seriously. The fight began- Gar chaffed at staying mostly on the defensive. Unfortunately this pleased the rage demons if he were to guess by their heading his direction with frequency. His barriers were allowing Lysette to swing more aggressively, and he didn't have the skill cast another spell simultaneously. His templar eventually slipped, Gar swiftly morphed his shield into a weapon. "Spaan Nos Vey!"
The well of mana in his chest felt strained while the tension on his back eased after that- weird. Gar quickly helped her up and started tugging her away. "I'm tapped out."
She nodded in understand, keeping her shield up Lysette shoved a blue bottle into his hand. Fuck. That was a lyrium potion wasn't it? Gar eyed it with a distaste cut short by the portal opening beneath them. Lysette, the absolutely mad woman, spun around and swung her sword low while Gar almost executed a back step with finesse. But he wasn't paying proper attention to his surroundings so he nearly sent Seeker Cassandra into the snow. "Sorry!"
"Gar! Barrier!" Lysette was bleeding from her sword arm and her shield lay in the snow. At the same time he was renewing the barrier around her, the would-be-herald dove in with her daggers. It was truly impressive how she was graceful and deadly at the same time. The seeker shoved passed him to assist. She arrived in time for his barrier to break from a wraith's shot. Gar frantically downed half the bottle in gulp. 'It tasted like cold medicine....whoa.' The potion took effect fast- hitting him briefly with a sensation of being high on pain killer and caffeine.
With the hand holding the bottle to his chest, and his other stretched out towards to fight he conjured a barrier for Lysette, and a partial one to block the Terror demon's tail swipe in Cass's direction. Gar marched closer, lyrium potion now tucked into his coat. The demon didn't stand a chance. The arrival of support, even though it was just two people, rallied the others. Demons began falling swiftly.
"Quickly before more come through!"
Gar hated how Solas just manhandled her arm, remembering his first reaction to that scene. Only he was the unofficial healer and couldn't just stand around and watch. Lysette was only one of the injured. Upon reaching her she was drinking a healing potion. "I'm fine help the others."
Well then, soon he'd have blood on his hands again. 'I really gotta learn that spell Solas used earlier.' he thought quickly shoving a piece of jerky in his mouth. He passed Cassandra on his way who made a sound of disgust at him. Gar wasn't sure if he should be offended or not.
Gar smiled down at the shorter man. "Tamrace! how's it?" he asked looking around for injury.
He was grateful his pack of healing supplies appeared untouched as he noted who his first patients would be. The short man was looking behind him though. Gar thought the winds here would make them inaudible but he caught the herald's name: Ellana. He could hear most of the conversation actually. Another point to the weird column.
Gar huffed at that. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. ...It's an old saying from home." he refused to acknowledge the pang in his chest in favor of more looks these people were giving him. "I for one would rather deal with typical city folk problems."
It was as if the demon on the other side heard this and decided "fuck that". There was a reverberating crack and the rift open up again. It was a big wave coming in, most of them rage. "Yay." he said with a sarcastic wiggling of his hands near his head.
Lysette immediately chided him to take this seriously. The fight began- Gar chaffed at staying mostly on the defensive. Unfortunately this pleased the rage demons if he were to guess by their heading his direction with frequency. His barriers were allowing Lysette to swing more aggressively, and he didn't have the skill cast another spell simultaneously. His templar eventually slipped, Gar swiftly morphed his shield into a weapon. "Spaan Nos Vey!"
The well of mana in his chest felt strained while the tension on his back eased after that- weird. Gar quickly helped her up and started tugging her away. "I'm tapped out."
She nodded in understand, keeping her shield up Lysette shoved a blue bottle into his hand. Fuck. That was a lyrium potion wasn't it? Gar eyed it with a distaste cut short by the portal opening beneath them. Lysette, the absolutely mad woman, spun around and swung her sword low while Gar almost executed a back step with finesse. But he wasn't paying proper attention to his surroundings so he nearly sent Seeker Cassandra into the snow. "Sorry!"
"Gar! Barrier!" Lysette was bleeding from her sword arm and her shield lay in the snow. At the same time he was renewing the barrier around her, the would-be-herald dove in with her daggers. It was truly impressive how she was graceful and deadly at the same time. The seeker shoved passed him to assist. She arrived in time for his barrier to break from a wraith's shot. Gar frantically downed half the bottle in gulp. 'It tasted like cold medicine....whoa.' The potion took effect fast- hitting him briefly with a sensation of being high on pain killer and caffeine.
With the hand holding the bottle to his chest, and his other stretched out towards to fight he conjured a barrier for Lysette, and a partial one to block the Terror demon's tail swipe in Cass's direction. Gar marched closer, lyrium potion now tucked into his coat. The demon didn't stand a chance. The arrival of support, even though it was just two people, rallied the others. Demons began falling swiftly.
"Quickly before more come through!"
Gar hated how Solas just manhandled her arm, remembering his first reaction to that scene. Only he was the unofficial healer and couldn't just stand around and watch. Lysette was only one of the injured. Upon reaching her she was drinking a healing potion. "I'm fine help the others."
Well then, soon he'd have blood on his hands again. 'I really gotta learn that spell Solas used earlier.' he thought quickly shoving a piece of jerky in his mouth. He passed Cassandra on his way who made a sound of disgust at him. Gar wasn't sure if he should be offended or not.
Gar smiled down at the shorter man. "Tamrace! how's it?" he asked looking around for injury.
He was grateful his pack of healing supplies appeared untouched as he noted who his first patients would be. The short man was looking behind him though. Gar thought the winds here would make them inaudible but he caught the herald's name: Ellana. He could hear most of the conversation actually. Another point to the weird column.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
.... Bah, it was only a matter of time before another battle broke out, huh? While Tamrace felt his nerves spike and instinct drive him to jolt up and ready himself, he was rather surprised that he wasn't surprised this time around. And if Gar's sarcastic quip was any indicator - he probably agreed.
Then again, it was hard to be startled when he'd already been expecting something to cut loose any second.
Having anxiety was helpful! Sometimes! Part of the time. Rarely. Maybe....
.... Ohhh, that was a lot of demons though.....
The Scout found himself fighting beside Varric as the wave came in, among the other archers and a few mages. Learning from earlier he kept an eye underneath him while he shot with precision at rages that were hounding the warriors upfront. Aside from that ever-present danger of terrors, he was relatively safe this time around - which left him to fret about the safety of the others. Gar and Lysette's ordeal was one of the things he watched out for - yet was not something he'd have the opportunity to intervene on as he and Varric soon had to set their sights on another rage that had sowed itself a break in the line of warriors and was slinking it's way to them, trail of fire in it's wake.
Fearing arrows would not be enough by the time it reached them he quickly forgone his bow in favor of a long spear - this being the metal one he picked while with Lelianna. As he began to wind up for a throw Bianca was fed an explosive bolt... the ensuing joint attack couldn't have been better timed if they tried - the hurled spear lodged into the rage with enough inertia to stagger it backwards - pausing it so that when Varric's bolt hit bullseye, the blast it created did not reach any allies.
Safe to say that one turned into a pile of fade ash.
From there on the battle seemed to turn, no doubt helped by the arrival of the two women that Tamrace hadn't seen since they charged into this mess. Good to see they finally caught up! When the final demon fell, Tamrace had full intent to run ragged to lend a hand to any that needed it and looked around for Gar - though halted when he caught sight of Solas and the green-handed woman, watching as the elven mage seemed to knowingly hold up her arm to the rift.
Something seemed to click in Tam's mind as the rift trembled and closed with a loud snap.
So intent was he on observing the scene he barely registered when Gar walked up to him and started talking. It made him start slightly, as he looked up.
"- Oh! Gar! Hello! Yes, good, I am uninjured, glad to see you are fine as well!..." He responded. Yet couldn't help but lean sideways and look behind Gar's larger frame to watch the scene again; he may not have been able to hear the conversation as Gar was, but his mind was reeling. Not only from what he just witnessed but.....
He turned back to Gar. His voice was low enough to evade any prying ears. "In our cages earlier. You said she could heal the sky. You have been proven right. But how?...."
Then again, it was hard to be startled when he'd already been expecting something to cut loose any second.
Having anxiety was helpful! Sometimes! Part of the time. Rarely. Maybe....
.... Ohhh, that was a lot of demons though.....
The Scout found himself fighting beside Varric as the wave came in, among the other archers and a few mages. Learning from earlier he kept an eye underneath him while he shot with precision at rages that were hounding the warriors upfront. Aside from that ever-present danger of terrors, he was relatively safe this time around - which left him to fret about the safety of the others. Gar and Lysette's ordeal was one of the things he watched out for - yet was not something he'd have the opportunity to intervene on as he and Varric soon had to set their sights on another rage that had sowed itself a break in the line of warriors and was slinking it's way to them, trail of fire in it's wake.
Fearing arrows would not be enough by the time it reached them he quickly forgone his bow in favor of a long spear - this being the metal one he picked while with Lelianna. As he began to wind up for a throw Bianca was fed an explosive bolt... the ensuing joint attack couldn't have been better timed if they tried - the hurled spear lodged into the rage with enough inertia to stagger it backwards - pausing it so that when Varric's bolt hit bullseye, the blast it created did not reach any allies.
Safe to say that one turned into a pile of fade ash.
From there on the battle seemed to turn, no doubt helped by the arrival of the two women that Tamrace hadn't seen since they charged into this mess. Good to see they finally caught up! When the final demon fell, Tamrace had full intent to run ragged to lend a hand to any that needed it and looked around for Gar - though halted when he caught sight of Solas and the green-handed woman, watching as the elven mage seemed to knowingly hold up her arm to the rift.
Something seemed to click in Tam's mind as the rift trembled and closed with a loud snap.
So intent was he on observing the scene he barely registered when Gar walked up to him and started talking. It made him start slightly, as he looked up.
"- Oh! Gar! Hello! Yes, good, I am uninjured, glad to see you are fine as well!..." He responded. Yet couldn't help but lean sideways and look behind Gar's larger frame to watch the scene again; he may not have been able to hear the conversation as Gar was, but his mind was reeling. Not only from what he just witnessed but.....
He turned back to Gar. His voice was low enough to evade any prying ears. "In our cages earlier. You said she could heal the sky. You have been proven right. But how?...."
PakkuVen
Kupo!
'Oh. That. Why did I share that with him??' Gar appreciated Tam asking him quietly as he didn't have a good answer right now. He made a disgruntled sigh as the only truthful response he could come up with was basically ripping off Solas's modus operandi. Speaking just as lowly he swiftly answered his new friend.
"My people learned many things of Thedas through the fade."
"Like what?" Gar turned around to face Ellana, somehow already just a couple feet behind him. She looked mischievously curious, Solas had that neutral mask up, and Cass was...scowling suspiciously at him maybe? He wasn't sure what that face was but it seemed like maybe the two elves present might've heard what he just said. Shit.
"I've seen things that were. Others have seen things that have not yet come to pass." Thank you Galadriel!
Out of nervous habit Gar folded his hands behind his back and tried to fiddle with a ring that wasn't there. 'Alex...' ,he thought to himself as the implications if all this was real crashed upon his conscious thoughts. He tried to put on a stoic demeanor but ended up overwhelmed by his emotions. The chilling air of the mountain froze the tears that started drip from his eyes. Unknown to Gar his magic slipped for a moment. A spark of purple light flashed from his eyes and a momentary glimpse of wings like dark storm clouds behind him. Weapons were drawn as he wiped the traitorous tears away. Maybe someone's reaction time was slow, or maybe they were jumpy and reacted to the mage raising his hand. Whatever the reason a burst of white light manifested at his location. Gar was on the ground clutching his chest, wounded by the smite, his tears flowing freely now.
"Fucking Thedosians!" The seeker took a step towards Gar only to be intercepted by the waif of an elf with her daggers drawn.
"Wait Seeker what are you going to do to him?" She knew how shems viewed magic with fanatical fear. Truthfully she didn't know what caused her to attempt to defend this shem when her own position of safety was precarious.
"He is a liability Ellana. We cannot risk him becoming an abomination while we fight through these demons."
Gar shakily stood up again. His hair had fallen out of his jacket and were at the mercy of the strong mountain wind.
"I want my ring back. My husband is-" his voice cracked, unable to continue. 'Why was it so cold all of a sudden?'
"Seeker Pentaghast?" Lysette saluted. "We should head to the forward camp. He's not a threat now, especially with as many templars in our number."
Ellana jumped at the opportunity, "And if he was telling the truth? The Nightgale would like to know about this." It was a stretch but not much of one. At least seers were actually a thing before something as impossible as the Breach existed.
"My people learned many things of Thedas through the fade."
"Like what?" Gar turned around to face Ellana, somehow already just a couple feet behind him. She looked mischievously curious, Solas had that neutral mask up, and Cass was...scowling suspiciously at him maybe? He wasn't sure what that face was but it seemed like maybe the two elves present might've heard what he just said. Shit.
"I've seen things that were. Others have seen things that have not yet come to pass." Thank you Galadriel!
Out of nervous habit Gar folded his hands behind his back and tried to fiddle with a ring that wasn't there. 'Alex...' ,he thought to himself as the implications if all this was real crashed upon his conscious thoughts. He tried to put on a stoic demeanor but ended up overwhelmed by his emotions. The chilling air of the mountain froze the tears that started drip from his eyes. Unknown to Gar his magic slipped for a moment. A spark of purple light flashed from his eyes and a momentary glimpse of wings like dark storm clouds behind him. Weapons were drawn as he wiped the traitorous tears away. Maybe someone's reaction time was slow, or maybe they were jumpy and reacted to the mage raising his hand. Whatever the reason a burst of white light manifested at his location. Gar was on the ground clutching his chest, wounded by the smite, his tears flowing freely now.
"Fucking Thedosians!" The seeker took a step towards Gar only to be intercepted by the waif of an elf with her daggers drawn.
"Wait Seeker what are you going to do to him?" She knew how shems viewed magic with fanatical fear. Truthfully she didn't know what caused her to attempt to defend this shem when her own position of safety was precarious.
"He is a liability Ellana. We cannot risk him becoming an abomination while we fight through these demons."
Gar shakily stood up again. His hair had fallen out of his jacket and were at the mercy of the strong mountain wind.
"I want my ring back. My husband is-" his voice cracked, unable to continue. 'Why was it so cold all of a sudden?'
"Seeker Pentaghast?" Lysette saluted. "We should head to the forward camp. He's not a threat now, especially with as many templars in our number."
Ellana jumped at the opportunity, "And if he was telling the truth? The Nightgale would like to know about this." It was a stretch but not much of one. At least seers were actually a thing before something as impossible as the Breach existed.
Last edited:
Grunky
BLACKJACK!
Shit! Not knowing some ears among them were more enhanced, Tamrace was caught off guard by Ellana's intrusion, and began to wonder if they had spoken just a little too loud. Standing beside Gar, he felt some unease as he turned and glanced at the three; even Solas' ever-stoic expression had him thinking they'd just made a mistake.
And Gar might've been thinking the same, as he looked back to see the taller man beginning to break. Or was it the weight of their circumstances finally bearing down upon him? The change in demeanor was subtle - but Tamrace knew the same feeling like a long-time friend, enough so that the frozen tears did not evade his notice. A pang of empathy pierced through him and against his better judgement (even as the mental note of knowing to not touch the other man without warning crossed his mind) he opened his mouth to speak as he slowly reached over.... only for no words to come out, his hand jolting back to his side at the brief flash of magic that came from the mysterious mage.
He then heard the slick sound of weapons being unsheathed - and within a moment found himself momentarily blinded by the burst of light. It lasted not even a second yet he was stumbling back and blinking away the persistent orbs in his vision by the time he saw Gar was now on the ground, clutching at his chest.
Great! Good job, Tamrace! Never should've opened your mouth.....
He'd have to apologize to Gar in private later. For now, he'd jump to join Ellana in shielding the wounded man from an advancing Cassandra. He might not have added his piece to the following exchange - nor might he have seemed the most intimidating on the off-chance the Seeker wanted to forego the persuasion - but as he felt he personally contributed to the conflict he felt better doing this than standing to the sidelines.
"Shit just keeps getting weirder today...." Murmured Varric, deciding to throw his two coins in as he walked closer. He looked up at Cassandra and smirked. "But I think she has a point here, Seeker. If you've kept me around this long, you could give him a chance to tell the Nightingale his story."
And hopefully not turn into another Anders in the process.
And Gar might've been thinking the same, as he looked back to see the taller man beginning to break. Or was it the weight of their circumstances finally bearing down upon him? The change in demeanor was subtle - but Tamrace knew the same feeling like a long-time friend, enough so that the frozen tears did not evade his notice. A pang of empathy pierced through him and against his better judgement (even as the mental note of knowing to not touch the other man without warning crossed his mind) he opened his mouth to speak as he slowly reached over.... only for no words to come out, his hand jolting back to his side at the brief flash of magic that came from the mysterious mage.
He then heard the slick sound of weapons being unsheathed - and within a moment found himself momentarily blinded by the burst of light. It lasted not even a second yet he was stumbling back and blinking away the persistent orbs in his vision by the time he saw Gar was now on the ground, clutching at his chest.
Great! Good job, Tamrace! Never should've opened your mouth.....
He'd have to apologize to Gar in private later. For now, he'd jump to join Ellana in shielding the wounded man from an advancing Cassandra. He might not have added his piece to the following exchange - nor might he have seemed the most intimidating on the off-chance the Seeker wanted to forego the persuasion - but as he felt he personally contributed to the conflict he felt better doing this than standing to the sidelines.
"Shit just keeps getting weirder today...." Murmured Varric, deciding to throw his two coins in as he walked closer. He looked up at Cassandra and smirked. "But I think she has a point here, Seeker. If you've kept me around this long, you could give him a chance to tell the Nightingale his story."
And hopefully not turn into another Anders in the process.
PakkuVen
Kupo!
Cassandra could see she was, more or less, alone on putting an end to an unstable mage so she didn't try to argue. She sheathed her sword while taking in all their faces.
"If you are all sure he is a risk worth taking-" The Seeker turned and projected her voice to the other soldiers with them. "Let's move!"
One of Leliana's scouts scooped up the pack Gar had been carrying earlier with a muttered curse. And joined the back of the eclectic group near the seeker, now a total of 8 people if the scout was counted. He was new to his job and had much to prove. Ellana quietly noted he was terrible at making observations without being obvious about it. The strange shem who kept his head wrapped in a cloth was trickier to read but she would bet he was mentally kicking himself for what happened to his friend. When really it was more her fault for intruding on their quiet conversation. She wanted to say something, apologize, if she thought it would do any good. But all this was going to reach Leliana. In the short time they were walking down the hill Gar's shaking was getting worse.
"Are you alright there Sparky?" Varric moved past his longer legged companions to walk next to Gar, who only gave him a questioning look. "You're shaking."
Solas made a soft noise. "Ah. He was keeping himself warm with his magic. I can do it for you until you recover. Or obtain warmer clothing."
Gar quietly nodded his consent. His approval was nearly instant as he sighed in relief. Varric followed up by joking about Solas's bare toes. Gar made a face when someone implied he could "join the barefoot" club that got a slight smile from Cassandra, though she quickly smothered that. There was a little more fighting before they reached the forward camp. The demons didn't stand a chance against a large group.
As they got closer Gar's magic was getting a little better but he cast passively, and he often got a look in his eyes like he wasn't there. Cassandra remained alert around him but Ellana knew that look had nothing to do with demons. Before they reached the camp she motioned to Cassandra she wanted to talk where he couldn't hear.
"Look he's demoralized over a wedding ring. Does the inquisition have his ring?"
She wanted to smack the seeker on the back of her head. Not that she got much detail but apparently Gar had already thrown a fit over the ring during his interrogation, which happened while she was unconscious of course. What the fuck was wrong with Nightgale that she was still trying to leverage it against him like that?! Nearly everyone had just lost people at conclave- if the horror of that many people dying at once wasn't enough! She didn't want to mention it in case it set the man off again so she walked up next to his friend. Out of everyone he seemed the most affected by what was going on.
Ellana spoke quietly, accustomed to avoid a human's hearing. "The nightingale has his ring. Stay strong for your friend. We can pressure her to give it back."
---------------------------------------
The slight elf was caught up in the argument with Chancellor Rod-the-dick. Gar would've walked off if not for the fact he was addressing all three prisoners. His attention pulled away from his memories when someone said his name. He didn't hide his displeasure when it was Leliana asking him for more information and Roderick still squawking. Unlike her he wasn't hardened to the cost of lives lost, and those still holding on to life were quite visible from where he stood.
His voice felt rough as he forced words out. "Your scouts are trapped by a rift that opened in the mountains. Oh and there's red lyrium in the temple."
"What? Are you sure?" Varric spoke before anyone else.
Gar nodded seriously. Leliana chimed in "You said there was a pride demon guarding the breach?"
"Close enough. If it will save lives...I can use storm call to hurt many demons so long as no one else is near them."
That got a reaction out of everyone. They were already having a go at Ellana before his dubious knowledge was brought up. Cass and Roderick glanced at each other surprised they agreed on something: Gar should not be trusted. Even though that distrust was borne of different reasonings.
"Or I can stay here and heal." It didn't sound like anyone heard him so he just sighed and hoped this was over soon so he could take a piss.
Gar startled when Cassandra slammed her hands on the table to silence further talk. While their dragon-blooded prisoner has been cooperative, he was no less a threat whether he willed it or not.
"Leliana, Gar lost control of his magic on the way here-"
He felt his face heat up. Lost control?!
"Lost control?! Cass I went to bed far away from this war, then before I could wake up and realize I was chained in a dungeon You punched me. A lot! I've been drugged for 3 days after hours of interrogation. AND I don't know where my husband iS! eXcuSe mE for crying when the interrogation started all over again!"
The large man couldn't help the furious tears, at least this time it wasn't‒ something else. He hated that he was crying again it ruined the effect of his glare and looming. While everyone who was there knew what the Seeker was referring to Gar remained ignorant to it during his short rant. All they did was hurt him and demand things of him. But- but this was real wasn't it?
Leliana watched his anger explode, albeit she was surprised at how much more muted this was than a couple days ago, and all of it was spoke in common. His story remained slightly...off somehow. Not that it really mattered right now. What mattered was if he was still useful or a threat. There was still a way she could rein the man in. Perhaps they'd shown him enough of punishment; perhaps it was time to reward him for his cooperation and give him a taste of what else they could offer. She had his things brought over as well as appropriate battle armor in his size, surreptitiously obtained from a dead Valos-Kas mercenary for this very reason. Despite all he claimed to be a non-combatant he was taking to it like fish to water.
"If you are all sure he is a risk worth taking-" The Seeker turned and projected her voice to the other soldiers with them. "Let's move!"
One of Leliana's scouts scooped up the pack Gar had been carrying earlier with a muttered curse. And joined the back of the eclectic group near the seeker, now a total of 8 people if the scout was counted. He was new to his job and had much to prove. Ellana quietly noted he was terrible at making observations without being obvious about it. The strange shem who kept his head wrapped in a cloth was trickier to read but she would bet he was mentally kicking himself for what happened to his friend. When really it was more her fault for intruding on their quiet conversation. She wanted to say something, apologize, if she thought it would do any good. But all this was going to reach Leliana. In the short time they were walking down the hill Gar's shaking was getting worse.
"Are you alright there Sparky?" Varric moved past his longer legged companions to walk next to Gar, who only gave him a questioning look. "You're shaking."
Solas made a soft noise. "Ah. He was keeping himself warm with his magic. I can do it for you until you recover. Or obtain warmer clothing."
Gar quietly nodded his consent. His approval was nearly instant as he sighed in relief. Varric followed up by joking about Solas's bare toes. Gar made a face when someone implied he could "join the barefoot" club that got a slight smile from Cassandra, though she quickly smothered that. There was a little more fighting before they reached the forward camp. The demons didn't stand a chance against a large group.
As they got closer Gar's magic was getting a little better but he cast passively, and he often got a look in his eyes like he wasn't there. Cassandra remained alert around him but Ellana knew that look had nothing to do with demons. Before they reached the camp she motioned to Cassandra she wanted to talk where he couldn't hear.
"Look he's demoralized over a wedding ring. Does the inquisition have his ring?"
She wanted to smack the seeker on the back of her head. Not that she got much detail but apparently Gar had already thrown a fit over the ring during his interrogation, which happened while she was unconscious of course. What the fuck was wrong with Nightgale that she was still trying to leverage it against him like that?! Nearly everyone had just lost people at conclave- if the horror of that many people dying at once wasn't enough! She didn't want to mention it in case it set the man off again so she walked up next to his friend. Out of everyone he seemed the most affected by what was going on.
Ellana spoke quietly, accustomed to avoid a human's hearing. "The nightingale has his ring. Stay strong for your friend. We can pressure her to give it back."
---------------------------------------
The slight elf was caught up in the argument with Chancellor Rod-the-dick. Gar would've walked off if not for the fact he was addressing all three prisoners. His attention pulled away from his memories when someone said his name. He didn't hide his displeasure when it was Leliana asking him for more information and Roderick still squawking. Unlike her he wasn't hardened to the cost of lives lost, and those still holding on to life were quite visible from where he stood.
His voice felt rough as he forced words out. "Your scouts are trapped by a rift that opened in the mountains. Oh and there's red lyrium in the temple."
"What? Are you sure?" Varric spoke before anyone else.
Gar nodded seriously. Leliana chimed in "You said there was a pride demon guarding the breach?"
"Close enough. If it will save lives...I can use storm call to hurt many demons so long as no one else is near them."
That got a reaction out of everyone. They were already having a go at Ellana before his dubious knowledge was brought up. Cass and Roderick glanced at each other surprised they agreed on something: Gar should not be trusted. Even though that distrust was borne of different reasonings.
"Or I can stay here and heal." It didn't sound like anyone heard him so he just sighed and hoped this was over soon so he could take a piss.
Gar startled when Cassandra slammed her hands on the table to silence further talk. While their dragon-blooded prisoner has been cooperative, he was no less a threat whether he willed it or not.
"Leliana, Gar lost control of his magic on the way here-"
He felt his face heat up. Lost control?!
"Lost control?! Cass I went to bed far away from this war, then before I could wake up and realize I was chained in a dungeon You punched me. A lot! I've been drugged for 3 days after hours of interrogation. AND I don't know where my husband iS! eXcuSe mE for crying when the interrogation started all over again!"
The large man couldn't help the furious tears, at least this time it wasn't‒ something else. He hated that he was crying again it ruined the effect of his glare and looming. While everyone who was there knew what the Seeker was referring to Gar remained ignorant to it during his short rant. All they did was hurt him and demand things of him. But- but this was real wasn't it?
Leliana watched his anger explode, albeit she was surprised at how much more muted this was than a couple days ago, and all of it was spoke in common. His story remained slightly...off somehow. Not that it really mattered right now. What mattered was if he was still useful or a threat. There was still a way she could rein the man in. Perhaps they'd shown him enough of punishment; perhaps it was time to reward him for his cooperation and give him a taste of what else they could offer. She had his things brought over as well as appropriate battle armor in his size, surreptitiously obtained from a dead Valos-Kas mercenary for this very reason. Despite all he claimed to be a non-combatant he was taking to it like fish to water.
Last edited:
Users who are viewing this thread
Similar threads
