Dragon Hunters

[Crowe]

((If I don't post for more than 3 days soon, it means I may have had to go to the hospital and won't be back for about two weeks unfortunately.))


Eira

Eira didn't say or do anything at the moment. Her gaze distant, she simply let go of Claira's hand slowly as she closed her eyes. This was the right thing to do. At least her father would hopefully take better care of her than they could.

Claira immediately clung to Goraidh's leg, burying her face into it. She let out a whimper of discontent.

Hunching down to her level, Eira put a hand to her shoulder. "This is for the best. We can't take you all the way." She spoke those words for both her and the girl. The Frostbacks would best be traveled in a big company, which Taven seemed to have waiting for him, not a disfunctional party of 3. For better or worse, Claira had to go with the elf.

[FazzEagle]

Raidh looked down on the little girl having wrapped her arms around his leg, and there were both worry and annoyance in his face. He rubbed his hand on the little girl's head to at least try to comfort her.

"It's alright..." he said, "I'm... sure we'll cross paths someday again."

He gently scooted the little girl towards the elf, flashing a forced smile before finally letting go.

"... hopefully not as a blood mage," he said in a whispering voice to Eira. Looking back at Taven, he nods to him. "Make sure you get her to her father safely, elf. She's... been through quite a bit, you know?"

[Crowe]

Eira

Claira slowly nodded and walked towards Taven, solemnly holding her teddy.

"Yeah..." Eira responded to Raidh's comment as she got back up. She waved goodbye to the girl and then paused abruptly. She just heard footsteps nearby. As she looked around she saw several men not wearing the same clothes as Taven's hired men. These were bandits.

"We heard there would be an exchange taking place. Looks like we made it on time, boys!" Their leader said to the other thieves who were now coming out into the light all around them. They bore their swords and daggers, ready to mug everyone in sight.

"Take Claira, now!" Eira said to Taven and unsheathed her katana. She gave Cirnelle the gesture to begin an attack.

[MiaKage]

With a smirk, Cirnelle drew her daggers as she dropped down from the building. Aiming for one of the bandits in the back, she lands on his shoulders driving her daggers deep into his chest as she continued to fall, rolling, twisting the man around finishing him off as she tumbled into a low stance behind the rest of them. The fall was a bit harder to land than she expected, and was in a defensive posture as she fought to recover from the impact, holding the daggers in front of her, with a dark grin on her face as she sized up the group.

[Seventh]

The journey from the Anderfels had been rough and lengthy. He'd ridden a horse across the barren lands of his home, crossing into the Tevinter and cutting a sharp line south through Nevarra. He wasn't thrilled about the journey, particularly travelling through Nevarran land. It felt like another world from his own stony, bleak steppes; filled with colour and artistry where his home was grey and ancient. But the note penned for him by the First Warden detailed that it was necessary for him to catch a ship from Cumberland to Jader: The Revenant.

It was on this ship that he sat in the confines of his room. Outside his doors, one could hear the bustle of people as they boarded, chatter about the prices of the tickets, the wind, and even some loud complaints that there were no more private rooms available. But Vetur was ignoring it, his steel-grey eyes fixed on the token he twisted between his fingers. Supposedly, the other members assigned to this mission by the Penterghast would bear the same emblem, though finding them might be difficult. Still, they were headed to the same location - their paths would cross somewhere on the road.

He let the emblem drop from his fingers, and it clattered against the emblazoned griffon that decorated the plate of his chest piece. Much of his armour had been removed - it was a little too bulky for a ship, regardless of how large a vessel it may be. Vetur moved for his window and pulled the shutters aside, opening the cabin to the cool winds of the sea. It toyed with his pale blonde hair, and pulled at the heavy furs of his hood. He stood for some time pondering the task ahead, with the wind whipping at his face for so long his cheeks felt numb by the time he lay down.

*

A knock the following morning brought Vetur sharply to his senses. He lay still, his fingers groping for the wrapped handle of his axe. He moved slowly, silently, and got to his feet. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

"Templars. Open the door!" The gruff call came from behind the polished wood.

Vetur relaxed, lowering the axe as he moved for the door. He pulled it open, and stepped out into the air - looking down at the silver-armoured templars with their squared helms. He could see their eyes narrow through the visor slits as they looked up to him, his face an expression of cold displeasure.

"Sir... Following last night's incident, we need to ask you some questions." One of the faceless pair - one with blue eyes, spoke coldly despite his polite tone. His eyes were also fixed not on Vetur's face, but on the haft of his axe.

"I saw nothing. I have been resting." Vetur replied coolly. He'd heard some of the commotion early in the morning, but as it concerned mages and not darkspawn, he chose not to involve himself. He could not afford to get sidelined when his orders came from the First Warden himself.

"Resting?" The templar asked suspiciously.

"Yes. I have come a long way... from Weisshaupt." The word had an immediate effect. A glance over his shoulder revealed the griffon mark on plate armour, and the templar immediately stiffened, apologised for the interruption, and reported on the situation at Vetur's request. The Wardens of Weisshaput were powerful figures; the First Warden often considered the true ruler of the Northern country, over the King of the Anderfels himself.

After listening to the Templars, he took the opportunity to ask if they'd seen anyone bearing an emblem or token or medallion that looked like the one he'd been given. They hadn't, but it was worth asking. He was sure they'd run into one another sooner or later, but most probably in Ferelden. Vetur couldn't help wonder what they'd be like. Probably Nevarran warriors from the Pentaghast Clan itself - they were famed for their Dragonhunters of old. He nodded to the departing Templars and stepped back into his cabin. Jader was in view, and he needed to gather his belongings.

*

It wasn't long after that The Revenant docked. The port was alive with colours, music and the sound of revelry. It was a little jarring for the Warden. Dressed in the full Warden Commander coloured plate and his furs, with his sword and axe affixed to his shoulders, he descended into the city. He needed a few supplies, and would perhaps check in on a few leads the Templars had mentioned before continuing on...

[FazzEagle]

"What in the Maker's name...!?"

Suddenly finding themselves in an ambush, Goraidh found himself backing towards the wall behind him. Quickly grabbing the hilt of his sword and the handle of his shield, the swordsman prepared to brace himself for an attack. Through the corner of his eyes, he watched as the elf took the girl away, hoping that this wasn't part of some elaborated scheme, but the sneak attack from Cirnelle quickly grabbed his attention back into the fight.

With the bandits momentarily surprised by the outside attack, Goraidh charged forward, slamming his shield against his nearest foe.

"Raah...!"

[Crowe]

Eira

Eira realized she couldn't use her smoke bombs because the enemy was all over the place. If she put up a smoke screen, it would blind them as well. They had to come out on top with their skills alone. She began by cutting down two of the bandits to keep them from going after Taven and his men.

"Sir Goraidh!" Claira shouted as she was taken away. She was scared for him and the others.

Even hearing her voice, Eira didn't look back at Claira. She had said her goodbyes, for now anyway. As she felt a prescence behind her, she stabbed the thug behind her. She then cut down a few more, but in the dark, it was hard to tell how many there were. Eira put her left hand up to touch her choker. She couldn't let it all end here. Not this way. She then saw a mage cut his arm and looking at Goraidh. She rolled forward, grabbing a dagger from one of the fallen men and throwing it to the mage's neck. Great, did they have blood mages too?They had to finish off the rest quickly.

[MiaKage]

In a flurry of motion, Cirnelle twisted and ducked, her blades spinning as she dodges and deflects attacks from several of the bandits. Finally recovering from the fall, with a flurry of steel and grace, she cut down her attackers with strikes to their legs to disable them, the neck to finish them off. The way she fought was almost as if she was dancing, her attacks and the way she deflected oncoming blows almost poetic. Her deadly form moved in to assist her comrades, throwing dagger after dagger into the exposed flesh of their enemies. "How many of them are there?!"

[FazzEagle]

Goraidh was busy locking blades with two other bandits when the Blood Mage was preparing something for him. Thankfully for Ciara's intervention, Goraidh didn't get to see what would have happened and live for another day. With a push from his shield staggering his foe, he caught one of the charging two with a thrust of his blade into the chest. Pulling the blade quickly from the flesh, it wasn't long before the steel cut through the other, slashing the other bandit across the neck.

"We can't retreat at this point...!" Goraidh said, "Keep fighting...!"

Perhaps if they took down more of the bandits, an opening would finally open up to them.

Hopefully.

[Seventh]

Wishing to avoid the cloying scents and sights of the Orlesian port - far too bright and interesting for the Warden's simpler tastes, Vetur had been quick to gather the provisions he needed. Breads and salt-meats, but he found it surprisingly tricky to find plain bread and cured meats, as least ones that weren't also pastries or cooked with strange and unusual herbs or oils. Some had tempted him to taste a pinch, others caused his nose to wrinkle. In the end, not knowing how such things would fare over time, he stuck with what he knew: salted meats and discs of bread almost like ship's biscuits. They lasted a good long time, and were suitably filling. Still, with the provisions packed and secured, Vetur was free to leave the stalls and explore around the outer rims of Jader which were far quieter. He kept mostly to himself, occassionally nosing among the foreign goods of Orlais that caught his eye time to time.

When the afternoon sun was high, and Vetur felt the heat under his fur and plate, the Warden stopped by an inn and sampled several ales, which he found much lighter and sweeter than what they brewed or imported to Weisshaupt, some of which would - with some luck - find its way to his outpost. Whilst he drank, he drummed up some conversation about the incident on the Revenant, the dead drakes and mages - but it all led to dead ends. By nightfall, Vetur was deep into his cups, and paid for a room for the night. Stumbling upstairs, he tore open the window, dropped his belongings and fell face down onto the bed with a muffled clatter...

*

Shouts and the sound of tinkling steel woke the Warden. Grey eyes shot with red blinked several times to alertness. The open window was letting in the sounds from somewhere nearby, and it didn't sound friendly. He brought himself to his feet with only the slightest wobble as he reached for his longsword and axe. Years of standing watch meant investigation was in his nature. He descended the creaky stairs, stepped over the odd few drunkards that lay on the floor and slipped out the back door. Despite his armour's clinking, Vetur moved softly enough that he wasn't heard over the fight as he ventured nearer. But he heard everything. By the time the confrontation was in view, it didn't take more than a moment to decipher who Vetur ought to assist...

The heavy axe bit deep into the nearest bandit's skull, instantly silencing his mocking taunts at the small group that were defending themselves. The numbers were greatly against the trio, but they were holding their own - for the moment. Vetur didn't have time to examine them further, as a second bandit spun around at the sound of splintering bone, but had hardly raised his weapon before the silverite longsword was rammed through the feeble leather that covered his belly. Hilt deep, the Warden twisted the blade, dropping the bandit to his knees as he drew the bloodied blade.

With an echoing war cry, the Northman threw himself at the enemy's backs. Shocked at the sudden flanking attack, the bandits seemed not to know whether to press the frontal attack or defend their backs, inevitably leading to neither being done effectively. Vetur lashed out with both hands, hacking and slicing in all directions - the blood gleaming on his armour, soaking into his furs and flecking his face... 

[Crowe]

Eira

Eira didn't know who the giant man was, but she was greatful for his appearance. The thugs didn't know how to prepare for this new foe and were all scattered, which made them easy prey for them to pick them off easier. Eira jumped up a wall, and summersaulting off it to throw a small crystal orb to three of them on the roof. The orb shattered and the gas emitted blinded them and they subsequently fell to the ground.

Things got quieter after that. Eira looked around and only saw the ones her companions were finishing off. The big man certainly saved the day. She swung her Katana to the side, cleaning it of excess blood before sheathing it. "I don't know who you are, but thank you." She told Vetur.

[FazzEagle]

They were quickly getting pressured by the numbers against them. Goraidh hid partially behind his shield, sword raised in the other hand while his feet backed away. The bandits wanted to surround him, push him against the wall until he had no place to run.

That was when the enigma of a man came slicing his axe into one of them, sending the rest of the bandits in a worried frenzy. Soon the bandits found themselves surrounded, with the giant man blocking one way and the other three blocking the other. As the bandits struggled between their offense and defense, they all took advantage of it. Goraidh stabbed a back-stepping bandit from behind, pulling the blade out before unleashing a fury of sword thrusting and slashing on the bandits that the big man or the other two did not deal with. It wasn't long until Goraidh forced his blade through a man's stomach, pushing the steel deeper for good measure before letting both the bandit and his blood drop to the ground.

Goraidh felt sweat dripping down the sides of his head, his breathing heavy. He looked first at the elf Cirnelle in a rare moment of worry, before looking at Eira and the newcomer.

"You have my thanks as well, stranger..." Goraidh said before inhaling calmly. "Your timing couldn't have been more right. Did... you know about the bandits intending to ambush us here...?"

[MiaKage]

Cirnelle noticed the large man charting into the fray, unsure of who side he was on, kept on her defense even after she saw him attacking the bandits. She quickly finished off the last bandit confronting her with a flourish of quick strikes, aiming at the face to cause distraction then piercing through the ribs. Quickly, she rushed around pulling her daggers out of the fallen, wiping the blood off on her pants before re-sheathing them. Still unsure who the large man was, she kept her twin blades out, although trying to present herself in a non-threatening way, which was fairly easy for her as an elf. Joining her comrades, she kept an eye on Vetur, she kept quiet behind them as they spoke with him.

[Seventh]

With some of the pressure eased from the defenders they immediately rallied and pressed the advantage. As the slashed and stabbed, the bandits more and more began to back away but in the confines of their surroundings they were more like a flock being herded into the slaughterhouse some made whispers for mercy and forgiveness, other fought with the desperate lunacy of a man who knows he fights or he dies. On one side, the armoured man was battering them back with his shield whilst the woman with the exotic blade was throwing strange vials which spewed some gaseous poison that Vetur was sure he wouldn't want to breathe in. All the while, an elf was dancing through her opponents, dealing quick strikes with her twin daggers.

On the other side - Vetur's side - things were just as bleak for the bandits. Both of his weapons were slick with blood, right through to the grip. His furs were plastered into a slick red, and where his armour showed, it bore flecks and splashes too. The brutality of the Northman was evident as the axe bit deep into a bandits hip, cracking the bone underneath. The scream was loud, but brief, as Vetur finshed him - his longsword slashing across the man's throat, nearly severing his head from his shoulders in a spray of crimson.

It didn't take long for the last of them to be dropped. When the cries of dying men and the ringing of steel on steel died down, Vetur breathed a heavy sigh - something between relief and satisfaction. He kicked the man at his feet until his limp body rolled over, and he knelt to dislodge the waraxe between the corpse's ribs.

When he stood, the others were stood before him and he finally got a chance to examine them. Two were women; one was the elf rogue who watched from behind her companions, blades still drawn. She wore very light gear - lighter than that of even the nimblest Warden in Weisshaupt, but having seen the way she moved, it was clearly for her benefit. The other was human, wielding the deadly looking curved blade Vetur hadn't seen before but heard about: a kat-something. Lastly was the tall man with the sword and shield. He was heavily armoured like the Northman himself, but there were no signs of a station or order - most likely a mercenary of some kind. The woman with the katana stepped forward and made a sudden movement. Vetur's grip tightened on his weapons and he clenched his teeth but relaxed when she sheathed the blade and spoke her thanks.

Vetur nodded, and gave a simple: "You're welcome." He nodded to the man too when he was thanked again, but shook his head to the question: "No, I didn't know. I merely heard the commotion and thought I'd take a look..." With a shrug of his massive shoulders to signify there wasn't anything else to it, he reached up and unfastened the soaked fur from his shoulders and used what clean sections his could to wipe the red from his face and hands. But in doing so, he fully revealed the heavy plate beneath, the griffon mark of the Grey Wardens, and the emblem he wore like a medallion; the one he'd been given by the Pentaghast clan for this mission and, unknown to Vetur, the same ones his new acquaintances bore.

[Crowe]

Eira

Eira's expression immediately changed to surprise as she saw the Griffon symbol. "A Warden!" These guys were quite unpredictable. One never knew what they would do. But as she thought about it further, she realized that with rumors a Blight in Ferelden, it shouldn't be such a surprise after all. Still, it was usually better to stay out of their way.

"Well, we have to get our bearings." She told Vetur before looking at her companions. "We have to follow Taven and investigate the Drake situation further. Farewell." She nodded to Vetur but as she turned to leave, she noticed the other emblem the big man wore and immediately frowned. It was the crest of the Pentaghast clan the three of them had. Was it possible? Could they have hired a Warden to join the mission? Why? This mission had possibly just gotten a lot more complicated for her.

"Who are you?" She asked him directly.

[Seventh]

Hands now mostly clean of blood, the Warden dropped his grubby furs to the ground. He'd most likely need to throw them, as the effort of washing them was beyond him at the moment. But they were very useful, despite the Orlesian warmth, mostly to avoid the looks - the same ones that he could see in the woman's eyes now: surprise and suspicion. Having never really left the Anderfels, Vetur was still getting used to the idea of Wardens being rare. Over a thousand Wardens called Weisshaupt home, but here in Orlais there were far fewer, and in Ferelden there were hardly more than a few dozen or so.

As Vetur mounted his weapons to his giant shoulders, he nodded to the group's words of goodbye. He kneeled to gather up his furs, but raised his head at the mention of 'Drakes', remembering the incident on The Revenant along with what he'd been told by the Templars. He stared up suspiciously from under his eyebrows: had he just assisted the buyers? Were they meeting here to collect? 'Investigate the Drake situation' she said. There had to be a connection. Did he need to interfere? There were three of them, and one of him. The odds were unfavourable...

Vetur stood slowly, and saw something in their expressions change. The human woman, she seemed concerned about something. Vetur hadn't reached for his weapon yet, but perhaps she could sense the tension in his body. His muscles coiled and ready to spring into action should either of them suddenly rush him when he interrogated them. But before he did so - she asked who he was.

The Northman spread his feet slowly into a wider combat stance as he introduced himself. "Vetur Maekirbjorn, Warden Commander of the South-East Outpost." Aggression filled his voice as he spoke, the words becoming a growl. Like a serpent's strike, his hands reached over his shoulders and drew the two weapons. His left hand held the axe defensively, whilst his right pointed the longsword at the trio before him. His blade was steady, his voice without waver, but in truth the heart in his chest was thundering. His stamina had barely begun to recover; another fight so soon would be... difficult.

"Your turn, and speak quickly: Who are you? How are you involved with the Drakes from The Revenant?!"     

[Crowe]

Eira

"Warden Commander?!" That was even more surprising. Not just a Warden, but a Warden Commander. This could be bad. Eira had her mission to complete, but there were other things she wanted to get done during this trip. The Wardens were not easily fooled, and she worried that he might find out what she was hiding. If he is indeed the fourth teammate, it could get complicated.

When he quickly took out his weapons, she immediately reached back and gripped her sword's handle but didn't take it out. "Wait!" She said in a strong voice. "I am Eira." She said evenly, not giving a last name because she had cast away her past before becoming a Dragon Hunter. "We are the people you are supposed to meet." As she paused, she slowly and carefully took out the Pentaghast emblem and showed it to him.

She was still looking into his eyes, waiting for the slightest reason to take out her blade. Not that she wanted it, but she was not willing to lose any more time than necessary.

[Seventh]

At the revelation of his title, the woman with the katana seemed to recoil in surprise. Something in her eyes suggested she wasn't exactly pleased to hear of it. He watched her eyes carefully, looking deep for that steely, hard look that came to ones eyes when they decided to attack. But she was still, and for that he was glad. Vetur was asking questions, potentially awkward ones - ones that could lead to more violence. If they were criminals as he suspected, they may have no hesitation about attacking him without warning. The sword-and-shield user he could possibly handle - he'd had much experience cleaving through the wood and iron of Darkspawn weaponry. But rogues... they slinked into shadows when his attention was fixed elsewhere and drove their knives and daggers deep into backs and legs. A scar across his thigh was a reminder of how important it was to keep Genlock assassins - and indeed any rogues - in mind.

When his own weapons were drawn, he saw her hand move to grasp the gently curved sword. His stance spread his weight wider and lower, his longsword whirled through the air as he spun it into an offensive grip. His eyes flicked to each of them rapidly, not wanting to miss the first sign of assault. For a moment, he considered making the first attack, but the woman's shout held him back. She introduced herself as Eira, and the group as the people he was supposed to meet. For a moment, Vetur was confused. Meet? Who does she think I am? She moved slowly, and her hand drew out a small token. Vetur's steel grey eyes narrowed as he stared at the trinket, until he recognised it as the same Pentaghast emblem he wore around his neck.

Nodding to the woman - Eira, he slowly relaxed his stance. With a flourish, he returned both weapons to the clasps on his shoulders that held the weapon sheathes. "So... you're the dragon hunters? All of you?" He asked, the suspicion not completely eradicated from his tone. "I was expecting... men like you, if I'm honest." He nodded to the tall warrior that bore the shield. Appearances can be deceptive, I suppose... He stepped closer to the group, as he considered the possibilities in light of this revelation. They were to meet in Cumberland, on the boat, which meant they were on board? Suddenly he had a possible answer to his question: "So then... the drakes on The Revenant...? Was that your doing?"

[Crowe]

Eira

Eira nodded, relaxing the hand that gripped her sword. "Yes, it was." Then she put the emblem back inside her cloak before motioning towards the path Taven and his men took Claira. "His employer was smuggling both the Drakes and the girl to Ferelden. We want to follow to find out why." With that, she turned around towards the Inn.

"And we have little time to waste. If you're coming, lets get a move on." Eira then started to walk back to the Inn to retrieve her bag from the room so they could be on their way. Taven surely must want to go meet Claira's father quickly and tell him the news, and they had to get there when they meet or they could lose the trail for good.