Dragon Age: Chapter One - Discoveries and Secrets

A smile crept across Kethrii’s face. "Dull is a polite word for it!" She flopped her hands at her sides. "I think I might run through the hall screaming if I stay in here any longer..."

Kell chuckled at that, inviting himself in and closing the door behind him. Kethrii didn't mind. She was glad for the distraction of company. “I might have to join you. Being stuck here is taking its toll on me," he stated, leaning against the wall casually. "So how long do you think we’ll be stuck here?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Kethrii shook her head, leaning back to sit on the window seat across from him. "Syrinia, as... I'm sure you're aware, is an.... interesting woman. She seems to think I'm honor-bound as a member of the guild to stay and enjoy the Teryn's hospitality. I argued that I could sleep outside with the horses for all the Teryn cares." Kethrii smiled wryly. "She didn't take the joke well."

Honestly, Kethrii was curious about the scrolls she'd handed to Shanen, but hadn't heard a word about them in days. The young noble had thanked her kindly enough... but then that was all. He was clearly interested in what the scrolls contained, but seemed more keen on a way to save his previous captor than actually find the riches the scrolls hinted at. Keth was hoping for at least a finder's fee... but now it seemed she would never know the scroll's secrets. Right now, that didn't matter much at all if it meant another evening stuck in the Gods-forsaken keep.

"It's aalllll about the politics with these people." She stuck out a hand to his giant hound, wondering if it was pat-able or if it might take offense and bite her hand off, before glanced up to Kell once more. "I think the real question is... how long are we going to last before we just make a break for it?"

((A bit of Scene))

No matter where each of the characters were - night fell in earnest. The good people of the keep started to wind down their nights, while the night watch, and the after hours denizens began to wake. Across the walls of the community that lived around the keep, signs announcing the death of the Bandit Queen begun to be taken down. There were whispers of surprise, and inquiry - wondering why she had been spared. Almost immediately, rumors of her escape began to pop up in the community, with guesses to where she was hiding.

Messages were drafted by Teryn's scribe, one for each of the adventurers that Shanen had requested be called to arms. The messages were addressed to each in turn, signed by Teryn himself, and sealed with a deep violet wax, intended only for the recipient. A runner was then sent to track down each of the addressees, and deliver each of the messages.

The messages would be simple, and similar. Requesting the presence of the recipient to lunch the following day. Teryn would, with his deepest regrets, not be in attendance, but his son, Shanen, would be overseeing the meeting that followed lunch - to discuss a proposition. Attendance of the meeting did not automatically sign one up for involvement, and those invited were permitted to back out at any time, if they felt the proposition was not for them. Payment and provisions would be provided at the cost of the Keep, of course. A post script would request the attendees to arrive in style.

The messenger found each member of the group before they went to sleep that evening, and delivered news to Teryn afterward that the scrolls had all been delivered.

((OOC Notes: Each of the messages would have a small amount of personal flair - what that flair is depends on what your character has shown to Shanen (and by proxy, Teryn) to that point. For instance, Kell might be asked to attend because he, and his hound, showed great skill on the battlefield.

The messages can be delivered at your leisure, and aren't meant to interrupt your RP. Feel free to simply slide them in when a scene is coming to a close, or if you run out of things to talk about. At the moment, I know MZ has something planned, and if memory serves it's for "this evening" - so I want to give he and Goddess a chance to do that before kicking them along in the story. I also know Keth and Kell are having a conversation, and Shanen asked Fabian a question - so there's still plenty going on right now.

The only caveat to the above is with Fabian and Lyra - as the Lyra/Fabian/Shanen conversation would be before Shanen could get the list of adventurers to Teryn to get the messages out.

I didn't get a chance to ask HD this morning what would be of Lyra, so for the moment - let's assume he ordered her down from the tower, and she's been given a room... however, the room is under strict guard from any exit (including the window) and if she elects to leave the room for any reason, three armed guards follow her closely.

Just for additional ideas - inside the outer walls of the keep would be a thriving community meant to keep guards, smiths, and keep employees happy and watered. There's a couple of pubs and night spots, stores, fruit stands, and other sundry sorts of medieval life things that happen. Feel free to improvise.))

"Honestly, I have no idea." Kethrii shook her head, leaning back to sit on the window seat across from him. "Syrinia, as... I'm sure you're aware, is an.... interesting woman. She seems to think I'm honor-bound as a member of the guild to stay and enjoy the Teryn's hospitality. I argued that I could sleep outside with the horses for all the Teryn cares." Kethrii smiled wryly. "She didn't take the joke well."

Kell smiled as well. “Yeah, she doesn’t seem like the joking sort.”

"It's aalllll about the politics with these people." She stuck out a hand to Allard, but seemed to hesitate and glanced up to Kell. "I think the real question is... how long are we going to last before we just make a break for it?"

“Seems you enjoy politics as much as I do. And unless we find a way to distract ourselves, making a break for it will happen fairly soon.” Kell watched as Allard sniffed Kethrii’s hand curiously, and then lowered his head so she could pet him. “No need to worry about Allard by the way. He might be a terror on the battlefield, but off it, he’s a big loveable pup. Besides, I think he likes you.”

"I'm putting a group together". He said to Fabien. "It's been recommended that I should see if you and your female companion would join us so we may make use of the unique skills elves seem to possess. There's no financial reward, although my Father will pay for necessary supplies and provisions. Let me know."

"I'm in. the more of these lands i see the better."
Fabian grabbed the young nobles arm as he turned to leave.
"But i will not stand for the miss treatment of elvish, whether slaves or simple folk in the alienage. if i see them done wrong by anyone in your group, i shall hold you PERSONALLY responsible. Those are my terms. And don't give me that, we give them everything they need to live comfortably junk. i have seen and heard more about the lives of alianage folk in the last few days than i care to admit, all of it disturbing."

Shanen shook his arm and broke the light grip of the Elf. "I am not your nursemaid. I expect anyone coming on this journey to be able to handle their own problems. If you see something you don't like, be a man about it and don't come crying to me like a snotty child to his mother."

He kept his tone calm, polite almost, but the anger was starting to run through him. This elf was strange, no doubt about it. First his greeting at the Queen's camp, then the incident with the guard and now mild threats while seemingly blaming Shanen for the plight of Alienage Elves everywhere.

"Best not to threaten me my newest chum. I may have been born with the Silver Spoon but do not think I shy away from any man, elf or dwarf. If you want to come along fine. If you want to whine in my ear the whole time I'd rather be accompanied by the Reverend Mother from the local Chantry."

He turns to face the Queen once more. "I'll have the guards sort you with more...accomodating surroundings but don't get too comfortable, we will be ready to depart soon. I'll send for you when the time comes. Both of you." With that the young nobles turns and leaves, departing to his own chambers.

“Seems you enjoy politics as much as I do," Kell replied knowingly. "And unless we find a way to distract ourselves, making a break for it will happen fairly soon.”

"Distract ourselves, hmm?" Kethrii questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. "And just what do warriors, such as yourself, do for a good time? The way I hear it, you are your happiest while bashing in skulls and bleeding on the carpets." She smirked. "I admit our first meeting has not dissuaded me from believing in this stereotype."

Kethrii watched as the hound sniffed her hand curiously before lowering his head so she could pet him. She couldn't help but smile a little at the giant beast nuzzling into her palm.

“No need to worry about Allard by the way," Kell spoke up. "He might be a terror on the battlefield, but off it, he’s a big loveable pup. Besides, I think he likes you.”

"I am ... honored," she said, scratching around the giant dog's ears. "And ... relieved," Keth added as Allard yawned, revealing rows of rather large teeth.

"I am ... honored," Kethrii said, scratching around the giant dog's ears. "And ... relieved," She added as Allard yawned, revealing rows of rather large teeth.

Kell smiled at Allard’s enjoyment of the attention he was getting. He then looked at Kethrii again, and said, “Our first meeting? Oh right, that little brawl at the guild hall.” His smiled became a bit sheepish. “I won’t deny that I enjoy a good fight or giving that cheating bastard what he deserved, but I need to learn to manage my anger better. Being an Ash Warrior doesn’t make that easy. Besides, warriors enjoy things other than skull bashing and bleeding.” He chuckled at her apt choice of words. “Drinking would be foremost…usually accompanied by friends and other people they enjoy having in their company. Then there’s cards and basically anything else you can do while waiting for the next battle.”

“Our first meeting?" Kell questioned. "Oh right, that little brawl at the guild hall.”

Kethrii smiled, idly running her hands through Allard's coarse fur. "Yup, that'd be the one."

Kell's smile became a bit sheepish. “I won’t deny that I enjoy a good fight or giving that cheating bastard what he deserved, but I need to learn to manage my anger better. Being an Ash Warrior doesn’t make that easy. Besides, warriors enjoy things other than skull bashing and bleeding.” He chuckled. “Drinking would be foremost…usually accompanied by friends and other people they enjoy having in their company. Then there’s cards and basically anything else you can do while waiting for the next battle.”

"Ahh, so not that different from rogues then..." Kethrii grinned. "Good drink, good food, rousing games, good sleep... I'm fond of sleep," she smirked. "And of course, good friends... in... accompaniment with any of those activities really."

She was about to comment further when there was a weak knock on the door. At first she thought she had possibly imagined it, except for the fact that Allard's ears had perked up and he was staring stiffly at the door.

Kethrii's hand automatically took stock of the hidden weaponry tucked into her bracer as she called for whoever it was to enter. A moment later there was a small sniveling man hurrying into the room to deliver some sort of sealed note. With barely a word, he'd handed one to Kethrii before questioning Kell and slipping one to him as well.

The little man bowed deeply, making Kethrii uncomfortable with the servants' general attitude toward her yet again, before scurrying back out, shutting the door behind him. Keth glanced up at Kell to judge his reaction, before eyeing the deep violet wax that was holding the parchment closed.

She hesitated before slipping a finger under the seal to break the wax. "Any ideas what this might be...?"

(Very late reply)

Amuria thought she heard footsteps outside her door way, shortly after Alaric had left. She leaned out to see a shadow cross the corner. On the ground was a little carved wolf-head amulet on a string. She leaned down to pick it up, a smile crossing her lips. Fabian ...", She uttered, walking back in her room and laying down on her bed, admiring the amulet he had made for her as she waited for him to return.

Fabian simply glared at shanen as he shook his arm free, spilling to him some hollowed words of honor about threats. after the exchange, he headed back inside, leaving the cells behind him. I should head back to Amuria now, she'll be waiting i suspect. He ran his hands down his coat, smoothing the creases where the guards had hold and checking his weapons, before he headed for the hall near Amuria's room. He stopped outside, hesitant to enter.

Amuria had fallen asleep, grasping the carved amulet against her chest. She opened an eye to see Fabian standing in the door way. She smiled and motioned for him to come lay with her.

Kell listened as Kethrii listed the activities rouges enjoyed, returning her smile, when a faint knock came from the door. Kethrii called for the knocker to enter, and a short man came into the room and, barely saying a word, handed Kethrii a letter. He turned and noticed Kell standing next to the doorway and offered him a letter as well. Giving the man a look of annoyance, Kell accepted the letter. The man bowed deeply and exited the room, gone as quickly as he had appeared. He looked at the letter for a moment, wondering what this sudden delivery was all about.

"Any ideas what this might be...?", he heard Kethrii say.

He looked up to see her about to open her own letter. He smiled lopsidedly and said, “Maybe it’s our eviction notice.”

He broke the wax seal on the letter and began to read it.

Kell of the Ash Warriors,
. Your presence is requested tomorrow at a luncheon being held by my son, Shanen. The meal will be followed by a meeting. Shanen was impressed by the ferocity and skill both you and your hound displayed during the effort to rescue him from the Bandit Queen. Attendance at the meeting does not communicate your acceptance of the proposition, and you are, of course, able to decline at any point you wish. Payment and provisions for what the proposition would require will be provided at the cost of the Keep.
Teryn Hamelton
P.S. Formal attire is suggested for the meeting.

Kell glanced up from the letter to look at Kethrii and waited to hear if she had received a similar letter.

Later that evening

A dark figure moved silently within the darkened forest, passed the dense trees and shrubberies. Nighttime was the time for predators and all the other natural evils the world had to offer. It was a time of hunting and murder. His time. The moon had yet peeked out over the horizon, its absence coated all in darkness. The dark figure did not notice as he was a creature of darkness, of hunting, and of murder. He was accustomed to the night. Alaric Magus.

He emerged from the wall of trees into one of the most sacred places in the region: The Grove of the Unicorn. The name confused Alaric, as the area was devoid of all trees. The name described the border of this tract of land. He frowned, looking around. The grass here grew lush and thick. It was an area frequented by unicorns and other magical creatures. It was a place naturally briming with life. He set down a satchel he was carrying with the supplies needed for the ritual. Incense, candles, firewood, flint and steel.

He quietly got to work, preparing the fire and santifying the ground. He hoped Amuria and Fabian received his letter telling them where the ritual would take place and when.

Alaric continued to prepare the Grove of the Unicorn for the coming ritual. The only light available came from the flickering tiki-style torches he set up around the perimeter. The flat stone that Fabian will be sitting on for the music was positioned at the outskirts of the Grove, by the lush greenery of the forest. Alaric sat down on it to make sure Fabian would have a complete view of the ceremony. It was at the highest point of the Grove. Alaric turned his head from far left to right, taking in the scenery before him. Nothing appeared obscured to him, so he rose to his feet satisfied.

The fire pit was next. Alaric walked up to the pit at the center of the grove. Very little light reached here. He bent his knees to lower himself to the ground, getting a closer look at the firewood and tinder. He nudged some of the blocks to push it deeper into the tinder, to ensure the blocks would be properly heated once the fire was lit. His head lifted to the stars. It wasn't time yet. Soon.

Soon.

Alaric fell backwards into the soft grass, his hazel eyes locked onto the night sky. Countless stars stared back at him. He let his mind wander.

Alaric could remember a time when he had a name. Not what he was called. An actual name. He couldn't remember what it was. Nobody could. That was the point of sealing it. But he could remember being called it, whatever it was. He could also remember being...being.....happy?

Images flashed before his eyes. He used to live at the Mage Tower. Taken away from his family at such a young age. Never given a choice in the matter. A young child, screaming for his mommy to save him. Shouting that he was sorry for being born wrong. Please, don't let them take me away. I don't want to go. Leave me alone. Alaric could still hear those words, over a century later, fresh in his mind.

Alaric knew he wasn't always like this. He wasn't so empty. So many thoughts flooded his mind. Making friends at the Mage Tower. Learning about the precepts of magic. Being taught control. Class after endless class, always be taught the horrors of what could occur if a Mage lost control. The tower taught that mages were only to be feared. Loathed. Ignored. The world was kept safe from Mages as long as they remained in the tower, their true home. Never to leave their prison.

Alaric's eyes shifted rapidly from left to right, reading the stars. Why did he leave the Mage tower? What drove him away? It was so long ago that he had difficulty recalling. A memory lost in the mists of time. One of many. He could remember running from the Tower with one of their bags of holding, filled with lost tomes and magical trinkets. But was was before that? He could remember being in the archives, looking around desperately. So many aisles and piles of junk haphazardly placed. He ran past so much, looking for something in particular. There were tears in my eyes. I lost something of value. Was it my name? Was it then? I know that was after the spell.

No. It was something else. What was it?

Alaric frowned, concentrating on one star in particular, trying to sharpen his ancient mind. He could see a woman. Chestnut hair, straight. Her eyes like sapphires. Her voice always singing. A bird caged, like Alaric. No...she didn't know Alaric. She knew him before, when he was named. He could remember them sneaking out of the tower. They couldn't secure permission, so they left through a hidden passage they found. It was the greatest day of...of my life. We did so much that day and night. We went into the local town and watched a puppet performance. We ate meals like a normal couple. We sat by a stream and talked for hours. It was an average day for someone not born wrong. But for us, it was everything.

It ended when the Templars found us at the stream. They drew their weapons and demanded we surrender. We didn't put up any resistance, but they didn't care. They had our phylacteries. They could track us anywhere. We learned there was a blood mage attack somewhere close by, and we were the only ones in the area. They told us that we were held responsible. Dragged back to the tower in chains, we stood before the First Enchanter. Evidence was read against us. Witnesses called, placing us at the scenes of attack. She stepped forward, taking the blame for me. I shouted. Pleaded. It wasn't her. It was me. But they didn't believe me. The witnesses and Templars agreed with her. She was a blood mage.

They made her into a Tranquil. Lobotomizing her. Severing her humanity.

Taking away my last link to the world.

I performed the ritual that very night. I knew of several women with child. The soul of a pre-born could regrow. I just didn't have to take all of it. While within the womb, it was safe still. I wasn't a monster. I needed freedom. I couldn't get my phylactery. But if I could seal my name, I didn't have to. The phylactery would no longer point to any Mage at all. It would be as empty as I am today.

The spell worked. I can't remember my name. Nobody can.

What was her name?

I didn't lose it in the spell. Her name was her own. I couldn't have forgotten, could I? No.

Alaric suddenly sat up, eyes widening.

"Esmerelda," he whispered prayerfully. That was her name. He remembered. I remember. How could I forget her?

Alaric noticed something wet sliding down his cheek. He looked up curiously. It wasn't raining. He reached his hand and wiped his cheek, seeing a drop of water there. He followed the path of it, leading to his eye.

(a short reply, but i know we shall be leaving the room soon)
Fabian let out a slight smile, glad to see his sweet Amuria had found a smile of her own. He lay next to her, an arm around her waist as he kissed her cheek softly.
"And how may you be this fin eve?" he asked quietly, knowing full well the events of her eve.

"And how may you be this fin eve?" Amuria leaned up and kissed him softly, before siting up and ruffling her hair. "I am worried, Fabian." She slid her legs over the edge of her bed, slowly standing up as she looked at the window. "We haven't long." She strode over to her suitcase of sorts, a well made leather bag, and began digging to the bottom. Soon after, her hands found some soft fabric, that jingled with the song of a hundred bells as she pulled it from it's confinement. It was a very short and flowing dress, with decorative coins hanging off every feather of fabric. The colors started out as a vibrant orange, as bright as the sun, fading to shades of yellow, bright pink, and red. At the waist, the colors began fading to navy, and eventually black with sewn in diamonds to represent the stars.

She laid it down on the table and began shrugging out of her sheer blue dress, that only covered what it needed to. Once again she picked up the dress, which began chiming a gentle song with her every touch, and slid it on, pulling it over her waist and breasts. She walked over to Fabian, who had no doubt been watching the whole thing, not that she cared. "What do you think?", She twirled in front of him.

(Fabians reply)

"Well, it still needs the final touch.", Amuria held out the amulet he had made for her, spinning around and holding up her Amaranth locks.

Fabian watched as amuria changed. he admired her for the brief moment that both dresses where off and smiled lightly to himself. she then gave a small twirl, smiling.
"What do you think?"
" Personally. i think your over thinking how you look. you always did." He gave her a soft kiss on her forehead "but you look great anyway.""Well, it still needs the final touch.", Amuria held out the amulet he had made for her, spinning around and holding up her Amaranth locks.
"Ah, you DID find it. i'm glad"Fabian tied a small double knot in the leather strap. He then ran his hands softly across her shoulders and down her arms and held her hands as he looked at her reflection in the mirror.
"I Hope you like it, now come. i believe you have a freaky ritual to attend."

Amuria frowned a little at his lack of emotion, something had to give. But for now, she let it go as he fastened the amulet around her neck. "Yes, I did ... I love it. And I believe you have to be at that freaky ritual as well.", She took his hand, heading out the door in the general direction of the ritual.

Alaric stared at the strange thing on his finger, rather confused. If he were a lesser man, he would have thought that was his tear he was holding. Last time a tear escaped his eye was when Flemeth gravely injured him roughly twenty-seven years ago. He sneered at the unknown liquid on his finger, wiping it off on his robe with one forceful swipe. Alaric would not tolerate even the perception of weakness. Perception of power was always far more important than power, at least to those who did not practice the craft. The practitioners of the craft would never be impressed with the illusions of power, though.

The ambient sound of the surrounding changed just a bit. Alaric heard the melody of bells and the sounds of laughter. It was Amuria and her betrothed, Fabian. The sounded close. He frowned, looking at his white dragon-bone staff that he placed out of the way while he moved the stone for Amuria's betrothed. He quickly moved to grab it before they arrived. Holding the dragon-bone staff, he mutters "Niangaung." A small ball of fire shoots from the end of the staff at the fire pit, igniting it. The flames of the pit adds to the ambiance, combined with the tiki-torches, lighting up the entire area.

Alaric moves to where they emerge from the forest. He bows deeply to them. His demeanor may appear odd to Fabian, as when he studied Alaric, he had an aura of death about him. Now, though he was still somewhat formal, he appeared almost normal.

"Amuria," he whispers, rising up from the bow. "Welcome to the Grove of the Unicorn. One of the most sacred places in the Teryn's domain." He gestures towards the open area while turning his attention to Fabian.

"And you sir," he bowed once more then rising up. "I must ask your forgiveness as I do not know the formal titles of the Dalish, so I do not know how to properly greet one of your superior stature. I am called Alaric. How would you prefer to be addressed?"

"And you sir," he bowed once more then rising up. "I must ask your forgiveness as I do not know the formal titles of the Dalish, so I do not know how to properly greet one of your superior stature. I am called Alaric. How would you prefer to be addressed?"
Fabian kept a stern look to his face, curious to see the mages intent, yet hesitant to fully trust the man.
"I have no title as i am no more superior or lesser than any other dale. You may call me Fabian" he gave a slight nod as he extended his hand slowly.
"May i ask why this place is sacred? it simply seems like the rest of its surroundings. the clan may have even made camp here if we were forced to head this far north."