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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 2, 2016 21:37:48 GMT
Getting attacked from behind was the last thing Ronan had anticipated. He went down hard, trying to figure out what had happened as the warden got the cuffs secured to his wrists. Feeling them clamp into place, Ronan immediately began to fight, kicking out unsuccessfully at the warden pinning him down. Rather than demand to be let go in the human tongue, however, he didn’t restrain the growl this time, letting it rumble loud and deep.
But his struggles were useless. He saw the glow of the metal out of the corner of his eye, feeling the metal grip stiffening against his hands. How could he have been so quickly captured?! Despite the warden hauling him to his feet, the half-breed made no attempt for the move to be an easy one, straining for distance from the warden even as the mage was welcomed back to the group.
Ronan growled again as he was pushed forward, ignoring the command as he turned to stare at the warden with a steady gaze. “Go ahead and kill me,” he snarled, no fear or hesitation in his voice despite believing every word he said. “That’s all you murderers are good for.”
(short, but it gets some things moving Also poor Cael haha)
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Post by Kelathi on Dec 21, 2016 2:48:44 GMT
"It's not for us to decide." Cael merely replied, calming enough now to stop himself from growling the words back. No, it wasn't for them to decide... but Blackwall. He would see the man, decide if the infection was due to darkspawn, and, invariably, make the decision at to what should be done with him. Cael had a sinking feeling that he already knew what the verdict would be... nonetheless, they would take the creature to the Warden-Commander. He would not be harmed... not intentionally, anyway. Should he run, however... Cael feared that he would not be able to protect the creature, or 'man', whatever he was... then.
But why should he even feel the need? The man was likely tainted, in which case there was no hope for him. Plus, he had tried to run, which meant he had an utter disregard for others, willing to spread the taint just to survive another day of his short life. This did not make sense to Cael, it was so at odds from everything he believed in. As a Grey Warden, he had given up his life for the sake of others, given up the opportunity to live a long life free of fighting, all so that others may live, so that others may not have to fight at all. He had seen desperation in the eyes of many a man, woman, child and beast, and witnessed many a time that fierce desire to keep living, no matter the cost.
But to be a witness did not mean he could fully relate. Although he had felt many a time that strong desire to live despite adversity, he could not understand an all-consuming desire to live at the expense of others, to knowingly put others at risk when there are alternative ways. To be a Grey Warden was the highest form of self sacrifice for the betterment of others. It was these thoughts that made him harden towards their prisoner. And yet... he could not shake the feeling that there was something more to this story.
Blackwall would straighten it out. It was his decision to make.
((Timeskip- journey?))
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Dec 21, 2016 5:11:09 GMT
The warden’s words weren’t enough to quiet the halfbreed. “Not your decision? Do you even care?” he asked, the curl in his lip a snarl as much as a nasty smirk, taunting the warden. But there was still a darkness behind his slitted eyes, faith only in that the wardens that stood before him was as evil as what they were supposed to hunt. Not that their tainting would kill them… no, once Stormrune realized Ronan wasn’t coming back on his own, her wrath would decimate the lot of them.
The question that remained was what would actually happen to him. “Not their decision…” then whose decision would it be? What this suggested is that they would go to whoever it would be deciding Ronan’s fate… and he had no doubt what a warden would declare. It was a warden’s job to rid the world of evil, or so they claimed. That included, in their eyes, every dragon they found. He had seen it himself; an unprovoked attack, unquestioned violence. It was all he could expect.
Well… except for the one warden’s attempt at diffusing the situation before. That was one of two reasons that he went with them as guided, not as put off by his words as he might have intended. The main reason was, of course, his bonds; with the mage’s magic enchanting them, there was no way for Ronan to break them. Attempting now to escape would only prove fruitless and damaging to his pride. But for a warden to speak of innocence, about one like him… it was enough to make him pause.
It had been an innkeeper who was friendly towards wardens that had offered their holding cell; in such a small town, there was no proper system for containing a prisoner, so a pit in the ground that happened to also serve as a wine cellar was used. A few flickering candles illuminated almost to the back, creating mixed layers of shadows around wine barrels and herbs drying on racks. There was only the one door to the space, with earth building a buffer that at least offered protection against the rank of humans drinking above.
His taunt to the warden had been the last words he had said at all, the fire behind his eyes dulled. Ronan knew he was going to be dead soon, one way or another. He maintained his composure, his silent pride. He wouldn’t give the wardens the satisfaction of his struggles, not when they would be in vain. He picked the darkest corner he could find, sitting with his back towards the door. The air was dense and moist, not unlike some of the caves he and his grandmother had found, but after a few hours, he was beginning to grow a headache. Rather than water, the wine was the source of the moisture, a substance he had had precious little experience with. Of course, experience would require longer exposure to humans…
(keeping in the time skip… thinking Cael uses a healing potion before coming to watch Ronan, give them a chance to talk ^_^)
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 19, 2018 16:46:31 GMT
Thankfully, Marissa had been right, there was indeed one healing potion left. A few swigs was enough, and in just a few minutes the elixir had begun to work. Cael felt the blossoming of warmth throughout his body, and suddenly, the wheeze was gone and he could breathe easily, as had any small aches and pains he had pushed from his mind, only noted now with their absence. But, despite the merry atmosphere in the inn as the group excitedly, and after a few drinks, raucously recounted the events of the last few days, he found he could not relax so easily... For he was thinking of their prisoner.
The thing that had thrown him off from just dismissing the stranger as tainted had been mainly to the fact that Cael could sense no such taint within him, which is always noticeable, even in those who are very early on in the infection. But then... neither had he been able to sense that strange, crystal-infused creature that had attacked them on the cliff. By all rights, both the creature and this stranger were different from common darkspawn, but both had those strange crystal formations on their skin. So even if the stranger and the creature proved not to be darkspawn... What were they? Was it merely a coincidence that Cael should meet both in the same day, or was the stranger just an early stage of that crazed, none-darkspawn but certainly equally dangerous creature?
He drunk until his head spun with questions and uncertainties, until finally, he could stand it no longer and decided to face the stranger himself. The others, if they had noticed his absence from the general camaderie, did not mention it, and simply left Cael to his thoughts. This was simply his way, it was better to let him mull over whatever it was that was troubling him, and he would speak if he felt he needed to. So it was of no concern when the Warden stood up, and began to heard towards the stairs that lead down to the holding cell.
It had not been a plan of his to face the stranger like this, otherwise he would not have drunk so much first. It would have been much more preferable to have a clear head, but they were to leave the next morning and this might be his last chance to be alone with the stranger, to be able to ask questions without the scrutiny of others. He had had... Quite a lot, but as aforementioned, a lot to a normal person was not the same to a Warden, and so although the edges of his consciousness were a little fuzzy and he certainly smelt of alcohol, he still had a relatively clear head. He grabbed a torch on his way down, anticipating the gloom that would meet his eyes.
He did not, however, anticipate the cold. He was surprised to feel such a chill meeting him, even with the alcohol dulling much of brunt of it. He hadn't been the one to take the stranger down, so this was his first experience of the innkeeper's cell. The few lit candles, although easing the gloom, did little to counterract the cold, and so, his first action was to light the torches on the walls which looked like they had not seen so much as a flame in months. This thought seemed to prove true as they did not light readily, but despite his short struggle to light the torches, which simply did not seem like they wanted to take, he did not resort to the use of magic- in their group, only his Mage was familiar with such things. When the room was finally bathed in the comforting, warm orange glow, he turned to meet the gaze of the most powerful glare he had ever met, one that appeared to make him pause for a moment due to the sheer hate possessed in them, currently aimed at full force at Cael.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 19, 2018 18:09:25 GMT
That initial collision with the warden had proven rougher than even Ronan had thought, with a dull ache in his shoulder that was only made worse by being bound. And cold. With a headache. But Ronan resolutely kept himself still, a rumble in check, not willing to break so easily for these demons. It was only his internal fire that kept him from shivering, making fists to keep his hands warm and active. The thought that his discomfort might not be fully intended never crossed his mind, only solidified what he had been taught by his grandmother his whole life.
A sudden increase in light and smoke drew Ronan from his silent contemplations, looking towards the door as one of the wardens came in, baring a torch. For a moment, his lip curled; was the plan to torture him further by being burnt in the flames? He’d survived a town in flames the last time Stormrune wasn’t able to find him - one little torch was meaningless.
His expression shifted to one of confusion when instead the warden lit the room, but Ronan’s train of thought remained true. The warden was human, after all, and probably couldn’t see well enough without the extra light. The difference from the gloom to the brightly glowing sconces, although slow, was enough for Ronan’s own sensitive eyes to tighten, the slits only visible enough to give an evil edge to his already steely glare, which only became focused when he noticed which warden had arrived.
He was disappointed to hear the wheezing had stopped. But he wasn’t quite able to hold his silence now, his lip curling a little again. “Looks like you changed your mind about deciding what to do with me,” he taunted, the rumble finally starting to break free, just a little. Everything, his posture, his voice, his narrowed eyes, all showed a preference to attack, but for some reason hesitating, like a predator waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike at its prey.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 19, 2018 18:26:58 GMT
For some reason, what the stranger said made him pause even further. Maybe it was the alcohol, dulling his senses, for he could not immediately interpret what the man had said, nor what he meant by the words. Or perhaps it was his amber-coloured eyes, so striking in their fury, even more so when lit up by the dancing flames, that momentarily stilled Cael's tongue. But then he happened to notice the paleness of the stranger's skin, and a look of concern crossed the Warden's face. Without a thought, he shrugged off the fur from his shoulders (a gift from the all too generous and maybe slightly fearful innkeeper) and pushed it through the bars. He didn't wait for the man to take it, but merely hung it up on the intersection, where the vertical bars met the horizontal. Without commenting on his action and not expecting a thanks, he turned to sit on one of the many barrels, regarding the prisoner with gentle, yet seemingly distracted gaze, as if trying to work out some puzzle in his mind. Finally, he broke the silence. "What's your name?" It seemed an odd, even misplaced thing to say considering the circumstances.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 19, 2018 18:52:03 GMT
That… was not expected.
Ronan eyed the fur that was offered, even shifting back a little from it, as if he expected it to be some sort of trap. The glare remained as it returned to the warden, but its edge was softened by glimmers of confusion in his eyes.
These glimmers faded as the warden waited to speak, Ronan’s distrust only growing - if possible - as he was forced to wait. But the unusual question caught him by surprise, which was revealed by a wide eyed blink. It quickly turned back into a glare.
“Why should you care?” he started, but then went on, not as in control of himself as he might have thought, unfamiliar with the lack of balance he was experiencing. “Wardens are all the same… don’t understand what they see, so they kill it. Don’t like what they see, so they kill it.” Now his lip was curled back into a sneer, but that wasn’t what was starting to slur his words a little. “Convenient, isn’t it, how it’s their own races that are good ’n worth lettin’ live.”
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 19, 2018 19:49:27 GMT
Either Cael was too drunk to hide his expression, or he could see no reason to be evasive as to his true feelings. And right now, he looked... Shocked. It soon, however, melted into a look of curiosity. Instead of questioning why the stranger felt such things, which was going to be his first question, he instead decided to question the latter part of what he'd said. "Our own species?" He echoed thoughtfully. "And you don't consider yourself to be a part of that species?" Humans were humans. Wardens we're humans. Even darkspawn were humans... For a time. Or at least, they could still be considered so whilst they could still form sentences. He noticed then, after further, brazen study, that the stranger looked a little.. Worse for wear. As he tried to figure out what had changed, he finally noticed the flagon. Now he concentrated on it, he could smell it from here. It wasn't even very strong, and it would have been given to quench the prisoner's thirst... but it seemed the stranger did not have a high tolerance for alcohol. Cael would have found it amusing were it not for the seriousness of the entire situation.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 19, 2018 20:29:36 GMT
The warden had no idea how spot on his question would be, as Ronan visibly flinched at the question. But of course, he already had a hatred for his human half, for there were humans among the wardens who had killed his mother, and very nearly killed him. So the curled lip shifted into a baring of fangs, his anger snapping.
“Part of that species? PART OF?! It is the half of me that I despise!” he snarled, not holding back on his growl this time as he rose to his feet slowly, on the verge of attacking the bars. “I only have loyalty to my family, one that your kind have tried time and time again to obliterate! And for what? For not being human enough?!”
Something interesting happened, however, when he spat the last few words. Rather than spit, flickers of flame lanced through the bars at the warden, but faded well out of range. They did, however, set the fur alight, the heat alone splitting it in half to fall either side of the bars. It hadn’t been intended, clearly, as the fire’s appearance had surprised Ronan into quieting a little, his eyes losing some of their intensity. It had been a fruitless use of his fire, a burst of anger, but perhaps it would finally shut the warden up.
“I’d rather be dead than ‘your species,’ warden,” he finished with a hiss, unsteady from his anger as much as the alcohol as he sat down again, looking away.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 19, 2018 21:38:36 GMT
Cael was certainly surprised to see the fire appear from nowhere, in fact, he had leapt to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword. But what had made him slowly sit down again, was the look on the stranger's face. He seemed almost as surprised as Cael, and he realised then, maybe it had been an accident, rather than a threat. Even so, his hand remained on the hilt of his weapon as he sat, and a tension that hadn't been there before was now present in his frame. There was something else going on here, and he was sure of it now. But what? Again, he studied the other, not wanting to infuriate him further, but also too drunk to realise that his careful study might just do that. Pointed ears... Crystals on the skin... If he was an elf, he was not like any Cael had ever met before, but elves were the only creatures other than darkspawn that had pointed ears. And the crystals... Wait, were they crystals? It was hard to tell from here, with the flames glinting on the surface of them. Maybe if he could get the stranger to come closer, he could study them properly. But he supposed, with the resentment clearly shown towards him, getting the stranger to do anything of the sort would not be easy, if it became possible at all.
And what was all this talk about humans, or Wardens, trying to obliterate his kind? He knew the next question was probably not going to be received well, but he had to ask it. Maybe it would be as simple as asking. After all, they were only holding him because they thought he had been tainted.
"What are you?"
It was asked softly, warily, as if aware it might cause another angry spurt of fire.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 19, 2018 22:19:01 GMT
His prolonged study - and presence - did prove to be irritating, even though Ronan stubbornly kept his gaze elsewhere. He had already prowled the area, finding this to be the only place to sit at all comfortably. And he wasn’t going to be cowed into a corner by a warden on the other side of bars.
Another growl escaped him when the warden spoke again, but it was clear it was more that he had yet to chase the human off rather than the question that irritated him. Ronan finally looked back over, temptation to correct the record from dubbing him human proving too strong to resist.
“Highland Ravager,” he replied sharply, briefly, with a note of pride in the name. After all, he’d just used his fire… there was no harm at this point to explain why.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2018 0:00:07 GMT
Cael did not respond straight away. In fact, he appeared to be waiting for the stranger to carry on. Of course, he knew what a Highland Ravager was, a fearsome creature able to fell a city given the chance. He had never been a dragon hunter himself, but he knew Wardens who specialised in it, from the type that kill for sport, to the type that only intervened when dragons threaten human life. As for himself, he had never needed to be involved, and whilst he had seen a fair few dragons in his time, it had never really been up-close. He was about to prompt further, perhaps to ask what dragons had to do with any of this, when finally, the penny seemed to drop. The yellow eyes, the fire, the crystals on his face... Were they instead, perhaps... Scales?
"Maker's breath." He gasped aloud, eyes widening, before he could stop himself. "It can't be... You're not... That's not possible." He seemed to fight against the idea, and he stood up suddenly. But instead of heading towards the prisoner, he walked a few paces to the other side of the small room... Paused... Then turned to walk back. Evidently, he didn't quite know what to do with this information, nor whether he should believe it. It seemed too fantastical to be true. He stopped before the cell again, and this time, he faced the stranger. "I..." He paused, and tried again. "Let's say I believe you, we can't just let you go. Blackwall will want to see you, to make sure. Your... Your face... are they?" He didn't seem to be able to form the words, it seemed too ridiculous to voice. And yet he was sure the stranger was telling the truth, something within his gut told him so. He motioned to his own face in a desperate way to explain what he was asking, suddenly finding himself mute.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 20, 2018 0:28:22 GMT
Ronan’s expression as the warden began to pace and ramble was easy to describe in one word: bewildered. The stare had remained, but now was made with wide eyes and an arched brow, as if trying to decide if the warden had lost his mind or not. And for once, he didn’t seem sure of which way to decide on that verdict.
It took a few moments after the warden had asked about “them” for the half-breed to respond, about as concerned and incredulous as he was annoyed. “They?” he questioned, then after the gesture, confirmed with a growled and hotly defensive, “Scales. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a dragon’s scales before.”
While he voiced only his issue about the warden’s inability to identify his scales, he hadn’t missed the note about not letting him go. Did that mean… they weren’t holding him, at least originally, for being a dragon? That made no sense.
Then again, the others had spoken of darkspawn…
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2018 0:53:40 GMT
He tried to pull himself together, slowly becoming aware that the stranger was looking at him as if he had lost his mind. He had come across other species before, of course, with elves being common in any village or city, and dwarves, although to a lesser extent. But he had always grown up with knowledge of their existence, and meeting them had not been as bewildering as this... He had never considered the prospect of such a creature, he... He needed to get a hold of himself.
"Forgive me." He spoke at last. "I did not mean to offend you. I just... I've never heard of..." He paused again, lamely, at a loss once more. He made his way back to the barrel he had seated himself on previously, hand pointedly no longer on his weapon. Something seemed to occur to him then, and he looked up, halting his study of the flagstones as he tried to reorder his thoughts. "We arrested you because we thought you were tainted. That is, poisoned by darkspawn. I've... Myself, nor my companions I'm sure, have never seen anything like you. Except..." He seemed to ponder on his statement, deciding in the end to tell the truth. What could it hurt- to tell of why they had been so sure of his guilt? "Except for this morn. We fought a beast who was different from the other darkspawn, he was a giant of a creature, and covered in red crystals..." He trailed off to let the prisoner digest this, and what it meant for him.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2018 0:54:19 GMT
He tried to pull himself together, slowly becoming aware that the stranger was looking at him as if he had lost his mind. He had come across other species before, of course, with elves being common in any village or city, and dwarves, although to a lesser extent. But he had always grown up with knowledge of their existence, and meeting them had not been as bewildering as this... He had never considered the prospect of such a creature, he... He needed to get a hold of himself.
"Forgive me." He spoke at last. "I did not mean to offend you. I just... I've never heard of..." He paused again, lamely, at a loss once more. He made his way back to the barrel he had seated himself on previously, hand pointedly no longer on his weapon. Something seemed to occur to him then, and he looked up, halting his study of the flagstones as he tried to reorder his thoughts. "We arrested you because we thought you were tainted. That is, poisoned by darkspawn. I've... Myself, nor my companions I'm sure, have never seen anything like you. Except..." He seemed to ponder on his statement, deciding in the end to tell the truth. What could it hurt- to tell of why they had been so sure of his guilt? "Except for this morn. We fought a beast who was different from the other darkspawn, he was a giant of a creature, and covered in red crystals..." He trailed off to let the prisoner digest this, and what it meant for him.
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