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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 20, 2018 1:06:22 GMT
Even though he remained hostile in his posture, Ronan was beginning to show his own sense of being at a loss. He was mistaken for a darkspawn? Really? All this did was confirm to him that his grandmother was right, that wardens really were just really stupid.
Then there was an interesting shift in his entire demeanor. The description of a creature, covered in crystals, and yet not unlike darkspawn… his head had cleared with a sudden jolt of adrenaline.
“Fought it? So you didn’t kill it?”
Strange question to ask with such a sense of concern, particularly considering that he had just snarled at the warden about killing everything he encountered. But he seemed concerned about someone else, someone who wasn’t aware of such a creature’s existence. And would undoubtedly follow him into the heart of the warden’s keep if necessary…
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2018 1:31:51 GMT
"We tried, but no, I don't think so. Thankfully, none of my party was harmed." Except for him, but they all survived, anyhow. "It managed to kill a cliff, though." By the ghost of a smile on his lips, it was evident that it was intended as a joke, but he didn't wait for an answer, adding in a more serious tone- "It went from a cliff dive to a swim, and that was the last we saw of it. It's most likely still alive." He had been watching the man's face as he spoke, and had noticed the concern. "Have you come across anything like it before?" He asked, brazenly, curious to know what was on his mind. He found his eyes drawn once again to the scales on the stranger's face... It seemed so obvious now that that was what they were. The crystals on the creature were clearly a different texture, they were also bright red, and they glowed. He tried instead to concentrate on the stranger's eyes, but even with the sobering conversation, he still felt a little fuzzy on the edges.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 20, 2018 1:57:12 GMT
Killed a cliff? Ronan’s mind jumped back immediately to the broken cliffside he had scaled himself earlier that day… and the one scent he couldn’t identify. The warden’s question was met with considerably less hostility than before, the half-breed distracted by his concerns.
“No… but… if that was this morning, I was in the area,” he quietly admitted, but he wasn’t really looking at the warden. For once, he missed the careful study the warden was making of him. “I saw rubble, and scented darkspawn, but I saw no trace of a... a creature of crystal.”
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 20, 2018 22:05:49 GMT
He can scent darkspawn? Cael's interest was piqued. Even if the stranger might deny it down to the ground, it seemed they were more alike than he might think, although Cael was hardly about to point that out now. He let the stranger mull this information over whilst, meanwhile, he was thinking on matters himself. The stranger could be lying, but if so, it was a pretty far-fetched thing to try and lie about- it was like claiming horses had wings. If only he could see the scales up close, he felt like if he could just see them, touch them even, he would be able to decide whether the prisoner was telling the truth. Then he could more convincingly tell the others what he had found out, rather than blunder in the dark with what he thought might be true based on... What? A gut feeling?
Either way, they would still need to go to Blackwall. Even with the full support of his comrades (which he could not fully count on, with Barrette being so fired up yesterday, and willing to swear on the prisoner's guilt for at least something) he was not of high enough authority to make such a decision as letting the prisoner go, without consulting his betters first. What if they let him walk, and he turned out to be tainted after all? They had to think about the safety of the people.
"I know it probably doesn't mean anything to you coming from me, but I'm going to say it anyway. I have no intention of harming someone who is not a harm to others. I want to believe you, I want to believe that this is all just a mistake. But you'd be hard pressed to find anyone that does. Even with the fire, that's no different than what a Mage can do." He sounded almost apologetic. He wasn't even sure how clear or intelligible his words were coming out, and was pretty impressed at himself for forming such a sentence considering the amount of alcohol presently in his body.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 21, 2018 0:27:51 GMT
His conflicted feelings about the warden came clear as Ronan’s gaze moved back when the other spoke. Open eyes narrowed as the other struggled to, what, apologize? Declare that the half-breed wasn’t what he said? His was a rare breed, he himself possibly among the last. Why would he lie?
Once more, Ronan pointedly ignored the logical rationalization that someone who actually was tainted would.
The clarity brought on by the bolt of adrenaline had faded quickly, Ronan growing brazen again and far too open simply to prove how not human he was. At first it seemed like he was gearing up for an attack, as he stood quickly and approached the bars with narrowed eyes, but he stopped short of ramming them. Instead, he kept a defiant stance, staring down the warden with a challenge.
“Do you see taint in me? Sense it?” he snarled, but surprisingly seemed perfectly open to the scrutiny now. “Or crystals? Is that how you saw me?”
From this more direct angle, it was easier to see the scales that lined his face, including a few that pushed over his hairline like the beginning of horns. And not unlike the Highland Ravager he claimed heritage from, there were the faintest lines, only visible from a short distance, between the scales along his neck of a faintly glowing yellow, hinting at the warmth that laid there.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 22, 2018 15:29:58 GMT
Somehow, his words had managed yet again to do the exact opposite of what he'd intended, with the prisoner reacting with explosive anger rather than understanding. As the man stood abruptly, Cael mirrored him. Despite the bars between them, and the fact that his armour was protected to a certain degree from small bursts of magic, he was not too keen on receiving a face-full of fire, - in this better position he might be able to deflect it before it hit. But instead of striking out, the stranger practically snarled at him, voice teetering on a shout, and now closer, Cael could see the inviting tint of the 'scales' on the side of his face. Taking no heed of the stranger's words, suddenly finding himself fixated on the strange scales, hee reacted before he'd really thought about what he was doing, stepping forwards despite the barrage of accusations. The prisoner didn't even flinch, and Cael seemed to take this as an invitation of sorts, because then he was reaching through the bars towards him. Was it purely stupidity, or just a hyper awareness and confidence of his own abilities that caused him to do it? Perhaps it was both, the alcohol still clogging his good sense. Either way, suddenly his gloved fingers had made their way to the square of his jaw, almost cupping the stranger's cheek, his touch feather-light and at odds to his weather-beaten and hardened appearance. The stranger fell silent, but Cael was too transfixed to notice, studying the scales so intently that the entire world seemed to fall away about him. He tilted the stranger's face, ever so slightly, to better see, and his thumb moved to smooth over a single scale. He could feel even through the leather glove; the texture of it, the slightly serrated surface, like tiny rivers running through an island. He studied the edges, saw how they seemed to glow a little, and he felt the the stranger's warmth emanating through the leather to his hand. His eyes followed the curve of the man's jaw, and for some reason, he found his eyes running over his neck too, that vulnerable flesh laid bare beneath his gaze... at which point, the stranger swallowed. That seemed to do it. Suddenly aware of their intimate position, Cael seemed to freeze, his entire body tensing. His eyes leapt up to meet the prisoner's, and he felt at once the burn of the flush that leapt to his face at the realisation of what he was doing. He pulled his hand away quickly, stepping back... He appeared to be about to say something, but finding himself at a loss for words, he suddenly turned on his heel, and seemed to choose to flee instead. The man whom had fearlessly fought darkspawn and monsters, was now taking two steps at a time to get out of the cells as quickly as possible.
***
At the top of the stairs, he closed the door, and then stood with his back pressed to it, trying to recollect his thoughts.
He felt unbelievably foolish.
Even thought he knew it was the alcohol to blame for the boldness of his actions, that didn't make him feel any better about the whole situation. His study had been well meaning and utterly innocent, with no ulterior motive other than wanting to see the scales up close, intoxication making him brash in the way he went about it. Then he'd suddenly become all too aware of their proximity, and how unintentionally intimate his touch was... And had panicked. He could have smoothed it over. He could have, just as confidently, removed his hand and announced what he thought- that he believed the stranger, that he believed that those were indeed scales, not crystals. But instead he had run like a scared child, making it all too clear what he had actually been thinking in that last moment.
"Maker's breath." He breathed, running his hand over his face and then through his his hair. He needed to get a hold of himself. He knew it had been a while since he'd done anything even remotely intimate, but this was ridiculous... He was aware suddenly, thankfully, that his companions were gone, evidently they had decided to turn in for the night. However, he realised too late that that did not mean he was alone. He straightened up suddenly, perhaps too quickly, on noticing the presence of the inn-keep, whom in turn seemed to straighten in response, clearly embarrassed at having been caught witnessing Cael's mysterious inner-turmoil. "Sten," he began, after racking his mind for a moment as to the innkeeper's name, "It's a little, er, chilly down there. Can you make sure to take down some blankets before you turn in?" Sten nodded hurriedly, eyes wide. Cael nodded his thanks, seemed to steel himself, and then headed towards the room that would be his lodgings for the night. He was thankful to be getting some sleep, and was looking forwards to welcoming back his sober self...
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 22, 2018 18:09:08 GMT
Ronan’s determination lasted up until the warden’s hand made contact, a little confused but as defiant against the hand reaching out as he had been about the other’s approach. But with the gentle touch, quite the opposite of what was expected, Ronan found himself freezing for a completely different reason.
By the time the warden had looked up to meet his eyes, his expression had gone blank; he’d even let his head be tilted without so much as a murmur, too startled by the whole experience to react. This included the warden’s sudden retreat, jerking back, attempting to speak before simply bolting, vanishing from view a moment before Ronan’s skin seemed to recognize that the gloved hand wasn’t against it anymore.
Given the space to think over what had happened, Ronan pulled back from the bars, feeling a flush similar to the warden’s but not as intense as he tried to figure out what had just occurred, including the man’s sudden departure. The alcohol wasn’t helping that. Compared to the other, he had just about never had such a reaction to another being. Of course, no one had ever gotten so close, which was good, because he didn’t like the proximity.
… he didn’t like it.
Ronan paced the bars a few times, letting out a steady growl that sounded angry to untrained ears, in truth revealing his lingering confusion. His eyes eventually landed on the smoldering remains of the fur that had been offered earlier, offering some inspiration. To hold in too much heat was not good, even for fire breathers, and he was filled with what he could only describe as a strange growing warmth. So he let spat out more fire, far more intense now it was on purpose, before walking away from what was now a pile of ashes to resume his bench. As he sat, curling up and away from the door, the wary inn keeper finally dared to enter, leaving the blankets in a similar place on the bars while eyeing the smoldering ashes curiously, blissfully unaware that it had been the fur originally offered to the warden. That burst was intended to help cool Ronan’s inner fire, and keep it in harmony with his system.
It didn’t help.
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Post by Kelathi on Nov 23, 2018 0:12:52 GMT
When Cael awoke, he realised with a groan that he had fallen asleep at the desk in the room, fully clothed and armoured up, head resting on his crossed arms. Golden light trickled gently through the window, falling on his disgruntled form. He remembered sitting at the desk the night before, dozing in and out, at a crossroads in his mind. On the one hand, he wanted to go and wake the others to tell him what he had found out, but he was also aware that what he had to say could wait till morning, and he wanted his comrades to have a good night's sleep before their journey resumed the next day. Amongst all this, his alcohol-addled brain had not allowed him peace, and he had found himself replaying the evening's events, especially the part where he had brushed his fingers across the stranger's jaw...
He sat up, trying to push away the memory, feeling the ache in his back from the awkward position he had slept in. He stretched, feeling the tension in his shoulders unwind for a moment, before, with a sigh, he finally stood up. The innkeeper thoughtfully set up the room with a well-made bed, of course unfortunately unused by it's current occupant, and a bowl of water with a cloth sitting on the window. Thankful at least for the latter, he approached it and proceeded to splash his face. Apart from feeling a little groggy, his recovery from the evening's intoxication seemed remarkable, but it was normal for a Warden to recover from such things quicker. With a much higher metabolism than none-wardens, they could consume much larger amounts of drink and food without ill effects, hence why normal alcohol did nothing to a Warden. Seeing no reason to stall further, he dried his face and hands on the towel provided, and went to seek out his companions.
***
As expected, Barrett was not convinced. Thinking he had caught a robber of Warden's graves was not something he could just forget so easily, and so it seemed perfectly plausible to him that the stranger was lying just to save his own hide. The few people who had been staying in the inn seemed to have cut their visit short upon seeing the rowdy Wardens, a result that was all too common, usually their mere presence was enough. In this case, it was good for the Wardens, as they had the entire bar for themselves, to talk through what they needed, without interruption. To account for his sudden lack of patrons, the Wardens had given the innkeeper a sizeable pouch of money, and with a glint in his eye, he too had left to give them privacy.
Meanwhile, Cael, not for the first time, found himself running a hand over his face in exasperation. He had told them everything, except, of course, the awkward moment that still plagued him... "Look." He rumbled, it felt as if they had been going in circles. "I'm not saying we cut him free and hope for the best. Our priority is still to take him to Blackwall, as planned, I'm just saying I think there's more to this than meets the eye." It was Marissa who spoke next, whilst she had her own reservations as to what Cael was saying, she was more tactful when putting her doubts forwards than Barrett. "But... A hybrid? Is there even any evidence anywhere that this is possible? I've certainly never heard of one." At that, Abel, who had been uncharacteristically silent this whole time, finally spoke up. "There... May be." He spoke evasively. "I think I read something somewhere, but it was a long time ago, and I wouldn't be willing to bet on 'I think'." He added quickly, revealing as to why he hadn't spoken earlier. Despite his less than confident reveal, it seemed to pull a brief silence over the Wardens. Cael broke it first. "Well, either way, Blackwall is the port of call. Are we agreed on that, at least?" A murmur of 'aye's from the Wardens, and finally, they all rose.
***
It was Barrett and Marissa who let the stranger out, seemingly unwavered by the intensity of the prisoner's gaze, evidently used to such looks. Marissa motioned for him to walk ahead up the stairs, and meanwhile, Cael and Abel went to retrieve the horses, and to bargain for an extra one for their prisoner.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 23, 2018 3:18:39 GMT
The night had given Ronan quite a lot to think about - fortunately, as it was easier to distract himself from the headache he was getting from being in with all the wine. And the strange incident with the warden. Not that he dreamt about it…
Even as his glare resumed at seeing the other wardens open his cell, his mind remained focused on one being that had yet to make an appearance. That told him not that he hadn’t been found, but rather that the opportune moment to strike hadn’t arrived. He knew his grandmother very well.
Once outside, Ronan was more than happy to curl a lip at any curious bystanders, his appearance enough to keep them at a distance. Upon seeing the human warden, however, his glare intensified for a few moments, as if deciding how to handle their little… incident the night before. For now, at least, he kept quiet, even if he did throw some uncertain and dark glances his way.
From quite a distance, perhaps farther than would be assumed for even the eyes of a great hunter, the party was being watched very closely. Stormrune had not jested about what she would do to any who tried to keep her grandchild from her, but fate smiled upon the town. She could recognize the armor of the wardens, having had far more exposure to them as her high dragon status often led to confrontations. Her lip curled as she hissed deep in her throat, the scales flushing brightly as fire bubbled just beneath the surface.
Instead of setting the forest on fire, however, she shifted to quickly work her way through the forest, unwilling to change until necessary. Rather than fly and risk being seen, however, she raced across the ground, keeping herself as low to the ground as she could while scenting the party that mingled with the smell of Ronan. Her human form was not as feeble as the real creatures were, but she was far slower on just two legs. And she had to be ahead of the party if she was to meet them on the road, an innocent bystander…
At least, until she transformed and ripped them all to shreds.
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Post by Kelathi on May 3, 2019 22:12:37 GMT
Whilst Ronan would have his own horse for the journey ahead, his wrists were still bound, and his horse was to be led behind Marissa’s, a rope tied to their saddles linking them together. If he did, somehow, get loose, he would have four Warden’s on his tail. Cael had managed to avoid the gaze of their prisoner so far, busying himself with readying the horses, memory of the awkward encounter the night before still fresh in his mind. However, it soon became clear that he would not be able to avoid the man forever, especially as he noticed a fatal flaw in Ronan mounting the horse... how was he going to be able to do so with his wrists bound behind his back? The answer was, he certainly wouldn't be able to do so alone. Realising what must be done, Cael groaned inwardly, but approached Ronan nevertheless, with purpose. He could hardly avoid the man's gaze now, but as he knew that Ronan would likely argue against what the warden intended to do (understandably, no-one likes to be manhandled), he instead tried the tact of doing what needed to be done quickly and casually. Stepping behind him, "Watch your legs." was the phrase of warning he used, merely a second before he grabbed the man, firmly but not in a way that would cause harm, and lifting him enough to be able to get his legs into position to shuffle into the saddle. It was clumsy but affective, and also mildly embarrassing for the Warden, who was pleasantly surprised to find that the motion had not resulted in himself bursting immediately into flames, courtesy of the stranger's gift with fire.
With the inn-keep paid well, overcompensated for the Wardens pretty much scaring away all his customers, the small party were now ready to set off. “We’re taking you to our commander, Warden Blackwall.” Marissa explained to Ronan helpfully, if unprompted. Meanwhile, Cael mounted his own horse at the head of the party.
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on May 12, 2019 23:28:41 GMT
It was more because of the other wardens that Cael wasn’t nearly fried after Ronan was settled on the horse, not wanting to give them more reason to bind him down.
He had watched the warden’s approach carefully, still uncertain of what had happened the night before, but he quickly pieced together what was going to happen. “Don’t-!” was as far as he got before he was being hoisted up, the horse just as unsettled by the sudden move and shifting its weight, ears flicked back at Ronan’s guttural growl. Cael’s retreat was watched with a curled lip, eyes still narrowed even as Marissa ‘helpfully’ explained where they were going. Ronan said nothing to her at her words, but did manage to keep his glare reserved primarily for Cael as they set out.
For an hour, their journey was unremarkable. Ronan remained quiet, watched cautiously by the party in case he tried to run, but to his irritation, he found them sending curious glances at him, as if he was some oddity to be fascinated by as well as a monster to be terrified of. These he glowered at, lip curling again. This was usually enough to either dissuade the looker, or earn another glare of wary distrust.
As the group finally came upon a bend in the road, however, they soon discovered they were no longer alone. There was a woman walking along the path, heading down the road the same way as the wardens. She turned at hearing the horses behind her, showing a tall, lithe figure with a pretty face, large brown eyes and long curls of dark hair that was revealed as red only where the sunlight glinted off of it. She appeared to be in her late forties at most, bearing a dignity and grace that supported her calm transition from curiosity at what was behind her to a friendly greeting, silently shown at first in a warm smile.
“Strange to see so many on this old road,” she called out as they came within range, her gaze easily flitting from one warden to another, taking a few moments to consider the prisoner with a look of curiosity tinged with concern. “Is there a danger around here?” she went on, her eyes meeting with the dwarf’s, almost doe-like in their innocence and faith in the wardens.
Ronan had tensed initially at seeing the figure, his jaw clenched tightly in a grimace, shooting an evil glare at the woman as her curious gaze was drawn to him. His heart was racing, his excitement building. He was ready as soon as the word was given…
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Post by Kelathi on Jun 2, 2019 10:02:18 GMT
Cael smiled politely at the woman at her comment, loathe to stall their journey. As the woman followed up with a question, however, Cael motioned the others to carry on as he stopped his horse to address her. Barrett had been struck dumb upon seeing the woman, it had taken him a moment to regain his composure. He continued with the others, but not before sending a wistful gaze in her direction. Cael, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the woman’s beauty, his facade being the one used when he spoke to any civilian. Whilst he didn’t want to cause undue concern, he felt it important not to lie about a possible threat. “My lady,” he began, politely, tipping his head in acknowledgement before lifting his chin to speak. “There appears to be no immediate danger, but it would pay to be vigilant, especially when travelling alone.”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jun 2, 2019 21:07:26 GMT
The woman looked alarmed as Cael tried to explain the potential risk, a delicate hand rising to her lips in shock. “Oh! Perhaps you could... permit me to travel with you?” she asked, pleading, turning her doe eyes upon Barrett. Ronan remained stiff and on the verge of growling, especially as the woman stepped closer to the riders, keeping his gaze stubbornly ahead.
She, meanwhile, seemed to eye the captive warily, almost afraid to get too close, instead aiming for Barrett’s horse, arms held close to her chest out of fear. “As... as it seems we’re traveling in the same direction... could I intrude upon your kindness?” she asked, again pleading, looking far too delicate and vulnerable to withstand any attack.
As much as she hated humans, hated wardens, Stormrune loved fooling them.
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Post by Kelathi on Jan 29, 2021 1:19:45 GMT
Duty-bound as he was, Cael was quick to speak up. “That is not advisable.” He stated firmly. Although he was beginning to be swayed that Ronan was not darkspawn, there was still a chance he was, and if so Cael did not want civilians anywhere near him if possible. “I’m certain you can find your way, just keep to the path and keep your journey short.” As the woman implored Barrett with her doe-eyes, he looked back at her apologetically. “I’m afraid my companion is right. You’d be in more danger should you travel with us.”
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Post by Red Irish Dragon on Jan 30, 2021 19:27:05 GMT
While Cael might have been firm in his decision, the woman kept up her doe-like gaze on Barrett, pleading him silently to argue in her favor. As he turned her down, she looked utterly crestfallen, scared, as if certain she would meet her doom… and was that the start of a tear in her eyes?
A growl cut off the charade, and even the woman’s pleading expression fell as she turned towards the sound. She had been so focused on the wardens that she had been blind to the environment around her, a fatal mistake as hulking figures suddenly appeared from the trees beyond…
Ronan stiffened on his horse, the animal already unhappy with the tension in the air. The party didn’t move as the darkspawn lumbered into view, as if startled into stillness for a heartbeat…
Then another roar, the creatures pushing forward even as echos indicated far more were hiding in the trees. This was when chaos seemed to erupt. The wardens jumped from their horses to engage the darkspawn, while Ronan also jumped off, ready to run, but hesitating, putting the wardens and horses between him and the darkspawn. With his hands bound, there was nothing he could do to fight except spit small spurts of fire. Barrett had thrown himself between the darkspawn and the woman, but she seemed to ignore him now, her gaze suddenly golden as she looked directly at Ronan.
“Run.”
Moments after the darkspawn began their attack, another seemed to suddenly begin in their midst. For what else would it be, when a full grown Highland Ravager suddenly appeared in the middle of the group, wings expanding to full size and causing a miniature windstorm as it bellowed, spitting fire into the darkspawn even as it stood its ground. From this angle, it was impossible to tell that it hadn’t simply missed the wardens with what was effectively ‘friendly fire.’
But Ronan had obeyed the order, and took off in the opposite direction even as the fight began, knowing he’d have to get away and survive before his bound hands became the larger concern.
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