Roleplay

[size=2]@Zombieprinz @CatCr0w @Mindraga @Draconequis @WeSpeakInTeeth (Sorry for the ping if it caused extra notifications, I just wanted to make sure I got everyone! [s]I PROMISE EVERY POST WON'T BE THIS LONG[/s] actually it's not that long but sorry if it's bad aaaaa)[/size] [b][i]Valus[/i][/b] [i]You can't fight fire with fire.[/i] The words rang in Valus' head like a dismal chant as he dodged a chunk of rock. Most of the buildings around him were either ablaze or obscured by thick smoke and glittering embers. Funny how dragonfire [i]melted stone[/i] and then somehow kept burning. It had been around half a day since a huge dragon settled its scaly haunches right on top of the Kirkwall chantry. Well, what was left of it, anyways. Guards in uncomfortable-looking plate armor rushed to and fro carrying various sizes of buckets, all frantically trying to stop the flames before they spread to any more aristocrats' homes. Valus was wary of using any type of magic in this much commotion, even though he was capable of helping extinguish some of the fire. The Chantry had made it very clear what happened to apostates--even one of the Dalish, well beyond the relative safety of his clan. The dragon roared (or rather, shrieked deafeningly) and he dropped to a crouch as its thick tail sent another stone flying. He had to get out of the square, maybe get to Lowtown and see what he could do to help some of the elves out of the city for now. On the way to the slums, he scanned a worn brick wall where multiple layers of job postings had been plastered over each other. Keeping an eye on the board was a habit he'd picked up since he moved here at his Keeper's behest--some of the jobs paid well and could be done in private. They weren't pleasant, of course (who liked killing giant sewer rats under someone's house?), but he had to support himself somehow. A large poster stuck out, slapped right on front. In large, hastily-printed font it read: [center][font=Gabriola][size=6]HELP NEEDED[/SIZE] [size=5]Apostates required to defeat dragon. Will be granted clemency for use of magic directly related to issue at hand. Monetary compensation provided upon completion of task, minimum 3 sovereigns. See Viscount for details.[/size][/font][/center] Definitely a trap. There's no way the Viscount of Kirwall bargained with the entire Templar Order to overlook blatant magic use. Then again...maybe he could pose as an outraged citizen to get all the details? Three sovereigns was a lot. That could pay his rent at the inn for the rest of the time he was here. [i]Valus, you're an idiot,[/i] he thought as he turned around and headed right back towards Hightown. [center][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/aa5c0d11068f10de92c1e34daaefd766/tumblr_o1zrsv44JN1ufdm5xo1_400.png[/img][/center] [b][i]Nyheil[/i][/b] Nyheil flanked a family of five elves as they ran for the docks, her twin daggers in hand in case thugs tried to take advantage of the chaos. Everyone in Kirkwall knew about the dragon by now. She found it hilarious that it had chosen to land where it did, but her smugness was overshadowed by the threat of [i]an actual dragon[/i]. Lowtown's usual stench now mingled with acrid smoke that floated down from the upper city. Most people in the slums had the good sense to put wet rags over their noses and mouths, but every minute the air got harder to breathe. Nyheil's eyes stung and watered, sending her eye makeup streaming down her face. She barked commands to any dawdlers, waving them in the right direction with one of her daggers. They didn't even question her. She tossed a strand of white hair from her face, turning just in time to see a guard running to her. [i]Great, what are they accusing me of this time?[/i] Her grip tightened on her weapons out of habit. It was a young man, who looked even sweatier than she was given he was wearing an oven. Metal armor and heat just don't mix well. "The Viscount has summoned you," he panted with his hands on his knees. The Viscount? In the middle of all this? She'd had dealings with him before, usually when he wanted to tell her off for starting trouble--as if she was the one who started it. "I don't have time for that man." She sniffed and took a step away. "It's for a good cause. And coin. Please." Well, if she had a silver piece for every time she'd heard a shem say please to her...she'd have one silver piece. "If he threatens me with the dungeons again, I'm coming for you." Taking a moment to make sure everyone was either out of the area or on their way out, she turned on her heel and stalked up the steps.

Aines was not unfamiliar with death. It seemed to pervade Thedas like a particularly potent drug, spreading through the air and water and snagging anyone who dared step outside. Still, this was new, even for him. A dragon?! On the remains of the Chantry?! It was nothing short of astonishing. The small warrior had considered, for a moment, what he could do. Nothing, probably. Kirkwall was doomed.

Still, a little nagging voice said in the back of his head, what if he could help? Sure, there was no one who could protect him, but maybe he could extend protection to others, at least for a while. Not for long, because everyone in Thedas died a horrible death eventually. Oh well! If they were all going to die, he reasoned, then it only made sense for him to try and face his death in a manner that allowed others to avoid death for a little while longer.

After all, all you could do was try your best!

It was his own initiative that brought him to the Viscount, axe slung over his back as he climbed the steps. A guard stopped him; one of the only guards left at the Viscount’s estate, actually, considering most were trying to deal with the uproarious disaster that was happening.

“I’m here about the dragon!” Aines said, cheerful as always.

“Aren’t they all? Look, we’re doing all we can- the Viscount is sick to death of having people bother him about what he should do-”

“No, I mean, I’m here about killing the dragon.” Aines cut the guard off quickly.

“...For real?” He stood up as straight as he could as the guard looked over him in disbelief, taking in the heavy armor and weapon that was about as big as Aines himself. “Go on in, I guess. We need all the help we can get.” The even from an elf was implied, but the man didn’t let it bother him as he took a few steps into the Viscount’s estate.


oahdsads i hope this is alright ;w;!

(i'm subbed)

Those in her own hold knew to give Laverna wide berth. They knew well enough to keep their distance, and knew what she would do to them if they irritated her. Even now that she wasn't officially linked with the guild anymore, they kept their distance. Which was good, she liked having people who were taller than her respect and fear her.

It was too bad that right now she wasn't in her own hold. She was getting a few strange looks rather than fearful ones from people who didn't know her that well. If she cared enough she would have spat fire and brimstone at them to make them more respectful. But Laverna was on a mission.

She had one of the many posters scattered around this hold clenched in her hand. She'd read it about a thousand times. 'Apostates required to defeat dragon. Will be granted clemency for use of magic directly related to issue at hand. Monetary compensation provided upon completion of task, minimum three sovereigns. See Viscount for details.'

A dragon. A honest to god dragon. When she'd first seen the poster, a wild grin had spread across Laverna's face and she'd snagged the poster first thing. Where there was a dragon there was treasure. Something she could take for herself. Even when it was dead, she could take bits of its body and pawn it off.. she'd make so much money. But Dragons were dangerous and she wasn't stupid enough to charge blindly in towards it without some kind of backup plan.

That backup plan being a certain former healer turned blacksmith. Because Laverna sure as hell wasn't about to charge face first into a dragon without someone who could heal her if it decided to try and bite off her arms or char her face. She might have been a warrior, but she wasn't suicidal.

She ignored the bustling streets and panicked people dealing with.. well, whatever they were dealing with and moved through the streets, vanishing among the dark shadows as she headed toward the forge.

No hesitation, Laverna strode right up to Aksel with a determined glint in her eyes, sidling up beside him and staring up at him. She loved the scent of this place, the rich coals and scent of fire, the way that metal smelled warm, she let out a breath and held out the poster, slamming it rather violently onto his anvil.

"So. You are coming with me. I plan on capitalizing on this dragon, and you are going to help. I need a healer considering my fighting style, and you are the only healer I would ever trust. So you are coming with me. You aren't allowed to protest or refuse. Mainly because if you do, I'll make it really hard for you to sell anything." She wasn't going to actually use her connections to hurt the guy. She actually respected Aksel too much to screw with him that much. Still, he didn't need to know that. So she only smirked at him, her eyes glinting dangerously as she gazed up at him. "Don't make me climb up there." she teased.

"You can certainly try, but I'll remind you of the red hot sword in the making I'm holding." Aksel looked down at Laverna through tinted glasses, before he carefully put the half-finished metal back into the coals to keep the material supple. Best not to give Laverna any ideas. As it was, there seemed to already be enough bad ideas floating around in that thick head of hers. Capitalizing on a dragon... Although, rumours of a dragon in Kirkwall had spread even into Darktown. Sure, it had been here for a few days, if his sources could be believed. But his sources were also the local drunks, and Aksel had kept them company for the last two days. Now that he had resurfaced from his drinking binge and tried to get some work done, Laverna had to come along and tell him that it wasn't a drunken tale spun by some ruffian.

Aksel pushed his goggles up into his blond hair, revealing greyish-blue eyes with dark, bruised-looking circles underneath. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep in the last few days, and it immediately showed on his fair skin.

"I always knew you were foolhard, Lady Shincleaver, but I don't think you and me will be able to take on a whole dragon, even if we manage to get anywhere near it's legs."

He wasn't planning on either joining in this expedition, or even in letting Laverna go and take a humongous reptile on on her own, but... he knew her, and he knew he had to get the idea out of her head immediately, or there would be hell to pay later. If there even was a later. The dragon was reportedly spitting fire, which was an understandable hazard to a healer turned blacksmith.

"How about we go and grab a pint instead? This is Kirkwall, no dragon will get the taverns to close, after all. Qunari haven't, the Chantry exploding hasn't, and as far as I'm concerned, the templars can deal with that lizard. Perhaps they can do something else than push around some innocent mages now."

([s]I'm gonna edit this later to post something lol,[/s] if anyone's not interested anymore let me know! Sorry I've been lax this week, my family visiting has been [i]insane[/i] ;o; Sorry again for the length. I figured they'd probably meet beforehand and approach the dragon as a team instead of going all willy-nilly???) [b][i]Valus[/i][/b] Valus' thumping heart had nothing to do with the stairs he'd just climbed. Here he was, an apostate, marching himself straight into the lion's den. Well, he supposed the lion's den would have been the chantry, but...this was more like a viper pit. He'd never been to the Viscount's home, only bumbled around Hightown to kill time and pretend he was a rich shem with no worries except the latest gossip or fancy party. The quickly averted eyes and pointed whispers usually ruined the daydream. He approached one of the guards at the excessively large doors, intensely relieved he'd left his staff tucked away at home. The guard peered at him expectantly through a little slit in his helmet. "Uh, I wanted to ask about that advertisement from the Viscount...about the dragon? It seems a little weird to just let mages run around like th--" "Just go straight into his office," the guard said flatly. "Oh. Thanks." No commotion, no shouting for the nearest Templar. Maybe it wasn't a trap? Still, he'd keep his ruse up for now. There were quite a few people populating the ornate red carpet--he even saw a few Qunari and elves. [i]Unusual. But then again, so is a dragon.[/i] He climbed the steps, still on the lookout for signs of ill will. The door was wide open, the Viscount at his desk with scroll unfurled, held down with etched glass paperweights. "Enter," he said, the sharp voice echoing off marble. Valus stepped forward, just a few paces from the door. If he had to, he could probably run before he got locked in. "State your business." A wave of anxious heat prickled down the elf's spine. "I saw the posters for the apostates helping with the dragons, and I--" The Viscount cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I can assure full disclosure. The Chantry is just as desperate to be rid of this beast as I am. You will not be persecuted now or hereafter for the use of magic during extirpation of the dragon." He couldn't trust these people, but if he didn't make some money soon he'd be thrown from the inn--and probably would never make enough to buy carriage fare back to his clan. Stupidly, he nodded in understanding. "Are there others?" "You are the first," the Viscount said. "If you are interested in helping, make your way to the furthest room in the barracks. The subject of this meeting will be kept confidential regardless of your choice." It was clear the conversation was over. "Thank you, Ser," he said as confidently as he could, and headed for the south wing. [center][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/aa5c0d11068f10de92c1e34daaefd766/tumblr_o1zrsv44JN1ufdm5xo1_400.png[/img][/center] [b][i]Nyheil[/i][/b] These steps had become all too familiar to Nyheil since she moved to the city five months ago. People liked to blame a stranger for random mishaps, and she was a perfect scapegoat. No one bothered to find out her side of the story, which usually made the most sense. She was used to attending hearings in the Guard Captain's office, and sometimes in the Viscount's office if the accusation was serious enough. It only bothered her when they got in her face about it. The guard that had found her in Lowtown was hot on her heels, probably looking for a pat on the back for successfully retrieving the troublemaker. She knew very well where the office was, though, and didn't look back at him as she strode right into the room. "You summoned me?" It probably wouldn't help her chances, but she couldn't help putting her hand on her hip like a mother scolding her unruly child. This man had been a pain since she first started taking random merc postings. "I did. Miraculously not for admonition, though I'm sure that will come soon enough. Your skill with daggers does not go unnoticed--I need you to work with others of my choosing to kill this dragon." Short, sweet, and to the point. "The coin?" "Three sovereigns at minimum, depending on collateral damage and efficiency." "And my record?" He sighed heavily and fixed her with a stare from eyes almost as light as hers. "I am willing to overlook your charges if you agree." Nyheil acted like she was mulling it over, taking a moment to observe the tapestries. "Maybe I should pay my friends at the barracks a visit, then?" "The furthest room down the main hallway." "Pleasure doing business with you," she said brightly, almost skipping out of the room. The meeting place was little more than a storage room, with rusty, dented armor roughly organized in bins against the wall. She plopped down on an overturned crate and played with the buckles of her gauntlets. With any luck, people would stream in soon and she could get all this over with. Three sovereigns, possibly more, and a clean record, just for playing with her knives? What was the worst that could happen--get a little toasty? Yes, this was a good deal.