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Old 01-18-2013, 03:02 PM   #7
Vaprakgruumsh
Drizzt Do'Urden
 

Join Date: November 24, 2001
Location: Neverending Nights
Age: 47
Posts: 634
Default Re: Dragon Age: Life Begins With Death.

Sky blue eyes gazed the small town of Lothering. Something was not right. As William passed a small family of Elves who sat by the river, he signaled Quinn to hold for a moment. Approaching the Elves who watched in dread fear as William grew closer, he knelt before the little girl. “Hello, may I purchase your blanket from you?”

“Purchase?” the male elf, clearly the father, seemed shocked. “I just assumed... you would take it... if you wanted it.”

William shook his head. “It would seem that you have all been through enough. I just need the blanket to use as a cloak.”

“Yes, well of course,” the father gestured to the daughter to get off the blanket she had been sitting on. “What would be a fair price to you, sir?”

William smiled. “You name the price. It is your blanket.”

“Would three silver be good?” the elf asked, clearly pricing well below the blanket's worth, for fear of upsetting William.

“Fifteen silver it is,” William smiled as he reached into his pouch and placed it in the hand of the stammering Elf who tried to correct William about the desired price. William closed his hand over the Elf's hand. “Take it. Take care of them,” William's eyes drifted to the wife and child. “And when you can, get out of Lothering. Head north. Away from here. The Darkspawn are marching this way. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” the Elf stammered. “Of course. My thanks. May the Maker watch over you.”

“And you as well,” William said with a nod of his head as he threw the blanket over his shoulder and made an impromptu cloak.

Quinn shot William a questioning glance as he approached. “What's with the cloak?” Quinn looked beyond William to the Elves and shook his head. “And let me guess. You paid a handsome fee for it, by the looks of those elves.”

“Something's wrong here,” William said as he tied the cloak into a knot. His young, blue eyes looked around. “Everyone's tense.”

“Why wouldn't they be?” Quinn scoffed. “The Blight's headed this way. The place is crawling with refugees.”

William nodded. “Something else has them on edge. I don't know what it is. And,” William looked behind him at the Elves, “as for them – let's just say that I pray the Maker sees them through this. I've done what I can to help them, as they have helped me.”

“You are without a doubt,” Quinn began, “the strangest Grey Warden I know.”

William turned and looked at Quinn as they crossed over a small, stone, cobble bridge. “I am not sure if that's a good or bad thing, yet.” He stopped at the height of the bridge and pointed. “There, Dane's Refuge. Perhaps we could find someone there from Ostagar.”

“Or we could find trouble,” Quinn said, not as a warning, almost hopeful.

Upon reaching the door, William turned to the Mabari, “You will have to sit outside. Keep guard.”

The Mabari seemed content to listen, and laid just outside the door. William pulled the cowl over his head and entered the tavern.

His soft colored eyes adjusted to the candle lit tavern, and instantly he saw the first sign of trouble.

“Teyrn Loghain's men,” Quinn whispered, a smile on his lips. He could feel it inside of him; the desire to unleash his Blood Magic. “We can take them. There's only six of them.”

“No,” William whispered, lowering Quinn's hands. “No fighting, unless it comes to it. With any luck they won't recognize us.” William looked down and ensured that the cloak covered the Grey Warden crest on his armor. He signaled to Quinn, pointing out a table in the corner. They moved across the small tavern with little trouble. Teyrn Loghain's men were loud; demanding more drinks, and that they were the only force keeping the Darkspawn away from Lothering. “They prattle lies,” William growled. “They have done nothing to protect Lothering. Why, there's Highway Men right at Lothering's entrance.”

“They're here for one reason, and one reason alone, William,” Quinn said, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, and what is that?” William asked, feeling the anger rise within him as Teyrn Loghain's men continued to talk of how they fearlessly fought Darkspawn until Teyrn Loghain called for a retreat.

“They're looking for Grey Warden,” Quinn answered. “Grey Warden who might have survived Ostagar, and could protest Teyrn Loghain's actions. Remember, Teyrn Loghain has deemed all Grey Warden betrayers to the King, and claim that the Grey Warden are the murderers, indirectly or perhaps even directly, of the King Calian.”

William observed as Danal, the owner of Dane's Refuge, moved across the room. Now William could see why the men were being so loud. There was a woman there, in the face of the leader of this band of Teyrn Loghain's men.

Danal pushed the red headed woman back, slightly. “Leliana, you know I don't mind you carrying on about these visions you have had,” the owner sighed, “but the bother Teyrn Loghain's men – and call them liars – that is not... healthy.”

“But they are liars,” Leliana said. “I have seen it. Sooner or later, the true heroes will arrive. And,” she glanced back at Teyrn Loghain's men who were smiling at her smuggly, “they will put an end to Teyrn Loghain, the Darkspawn, everything. They will be the ones to set the world right again.”

“That's fine, Leliana,” Danal replied, exasperated. “I just need you to sit down. Teyrn Loghain's men are already drunk – loud – they don't need to be further provoked.”

“Yes,” Leliana said and sat down. “Of course.” Her angry eyes fell on Teyrn Loghain's men.

“There's no Grey Warden in here,” Quinn said, “Well other than you.”

“And you,” William replied.

Quinn shook his head. “I hardly think of myself as a Grey Warden.” Quinn looked around. “So what next? What if you're the only one who survived?”

“You survived,” William retorted. “That means others like us could have survived. But where would they go? Surly they would not march to Denerim without a force behind them?”

“Would they Grey Warden even truly worry about Teyrn Loghain and his claims during a Blight?” Quinn asked.

“I don't know,” William shook his head. “I was hoping a small force of Grey Warden would be here. So I would just...”

“Join them and not have to think for yourself,” Quinn finished.

William looked up from his drink. “Perhaps. Yes.”

“It's the blood,” Quinn answered. “It's urging you to fight the Darkspawn, because the song is getting louder and louder. Making it increasingly difficult to think for yourself.”

“If that's it,” William stood, and placed the glass on the table. “Then let's find some Darkspawn.”

“Now that is a plan I can agree with,” Quinn said, as he stood and followed William out the door. William called the Mabari over. He looked at the Mabari, “There's a woman over there with medical supplies. Perhaps she has something for the Mabari.”

Making their way from Dane's Refuge, they approached an elderly woman. “My lady, would you happen to have any supplies for the wounded?”

The woman looked William and Quinn over. “Neither of you appears wounded.”

“It is for the Mabari,” William answered.

“You would ask that I surrender my supplies to mend a Mabari,” the woman was shocked. “I know the Mabari are highly regarded, but above human life? Do you not see the people of Lothering? The refugees?”

“I am not asking you to surrender your supplies to me,” William corrected. “I will pay for them. Handsomely.”

“We could just take it,” Quinn hissed. “Show her the crest you wear on your breastplate. As a Grey Warden it's your given right to take supplies for the wounded.”

William looked at Quinn and scolded him without saying a word. He turned back to the woman. “I have sixty silver,” William lifted his pouch and handed to her, “for what supplies you could provide me.”

The woman was shocked. With that much she could easily hire someone to gather her plenty of supplies. “Fine then,” the woman nodded, handing William her small supplies. “I will merely pay for another to fetch me supplies in the field beyond.”

“Your kindness is greatly appreciated, fair lady,” William nodded. He knelt down before the Mabari and began tending to its wounds. “We shall name you Forodin.”

The Mabari seemed to smile back at William.

Quinn all the while simply shook his head.
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