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Dragon Age: Prelude to Chaos


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Lianna was too interested in the conversation that the two nobles that she hadn't even noticed another woman sitting down beside her. She shot a quick glance at the woman sitting near her. Only one look was enough for Lianna to find the woman interesting and more worthy of her time than the two lesser nobles.

 

"Yes. You could say that." She smiled and looked at the woman more closely. "And you don't seem like you're new around these parts." She added.

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Isadora recoiled as she stepped through the doors of the hanged man, leaning against the wall she caught her breath as she winced from the pain she was experiencing- One of that filthy fetchers men had gashed her leg with his sword right before she slit his throat open... And being a blood mage her wounds would heal far slower than those of the average human. Still, she had applied an elixir that was swiftly regrowing the tissue, so all should be fine. Catching the glances of a few patrons she scowled at them dangerously, ensuring they returned to whatever it was they were doing before-hand.

 

Spotting an empty table in the corner she sat herself down and balanced her staff against the rim, checking over her wound once again and hiding the bloody splatters on her arms with the fur of her coat. She noticed that the Red Haired elf she had passed in the alley was seated at the bar, but paid no real heed- The conversation of the nobles behind her was far more interesting... lost treasure of an arcane nature? Now that sounded a good prospect.

 

----

 

"And so I said to him, if you are the king of Ferelden, where is your crown? He pointed to the wooden box he had on his head and told me that he had downgraded for the sake of the people... Now I may be from Orlais, but I know a fool when I see one, I grabbed the nearest man, flung him towards the so called king, and told him that his queen awaited!" The men around her burst out in drunken laughter, slamming their drinks on the table after hearing the lengthy story of the first of many peasants who had tried to woo Agathe with their false tales, believing that as she was from Orlais she would be stupid enough to believe them.

 

Dropping from the table she had been sat on Agathe walked over to the bar, her hips swaying from side to side before she took a seat next to the pair of read headed women. "Good day ladies." She said with a smile, ordering herself a glass of wine after her friendly greeting.

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With a sigh, the elf pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning on and emptied her basket, spending some time tending to the newly gathered herbs. It took her a few minutes to leave those that had to be dried in the sun next to the little window, while those that were to be used fresh were put in a jar according to their category.

 

She still had to deliver a package of herbs to a certain bartender to help him deal with hangovers. The woman picked herbs both from her collection of jars and those that were left to dry in the sun a few days ago, putting them all together in a larger jar she then put back in her - now empty - basket. She's been earning a few silvers by selling herbs and acting as an herbalist in the city, simply so she'd be able to buy what she couldn't catch in the wilds.

 

Again with the basket under her arm the elf departed, throwing another glance to the old and empty house she was residing in, closing the door behind her. Few minutes later she walked into The Hanged Man, quickly scanning the interior of the inn before she walked over to the bar.

 

"Ah, you again." The bartender said seeing the elf. "You'll have to wait a few minutes, Bart isn't here yet." The ginger nodded, quietly taking a seat at the bar. She spoted the hostile woman she had enountered while returning from the outskirts of the town as well as the other red-headed elf that was so unlucky to pass by the mentioned woman sitting next to two other women. Beside a pair of nobles and the regulars, nobody else was around, or at least nobody Alaila found interesting. The elf looked back at the bar as she waited, tracing the wood with her finger as she waited.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the Free Marches

 

Fool. Running away isn't going to make his death any less painful. A man with a green hood was casually walking in the woods with an arrow notched in his bow, looking as if he was only hunting. What his prey was, though, is what made him odd. His prey was obviously lost in the forest, running around in circles, which amused the hunter. The noble he was hunting was so painfully obvious it almost made him laugh. His steps weren't as light and soft as the hunter's, leaving a trail even a child could follow.

On top of that, the running tired him out, so the smell of his sweat was another giveaway. And then there were the broken branches the noble had stepped on during his run, making the whole scene look as if a boar passed this way. And the fear. He could simply smell the fear, for this man seemed to radiate it in a 200 m circle. But soon enough he won't be able to run anymore, while his hunter was only getting warmed up.

 

"No! PLEASE!" the noble shrieked knowing his hunter was slowly closing in, "I have a little daughter! She's only 5, please don't let her grow up without a father! I beg you!"

 

The noble now fell on the ground, a log firmly quenched in his right hand. He's never carried a weapon in his whole life, but situations like this push a man to his limits. There was no answer as the noble backed against a tree, rapidly looking from left to right in desperate hope he'll spot his pursuitor.

 

"I have money! I'll double whatever they're paying you! N-no, I'll TRIPLE it! Whatever you want! Please...my little Angie..." the man's voice broke, turning into quiet sobbing.

 

"Don't worry yourself," the hunter now stepped into the light, putting the arrow back in his quiver and the bow on his back, "She won't grow up without a father."

 

The noble looked up, smiling as tears rolled down his cheeks. "S-she won't? So y-you'll l-let me g-go?"

 

The Anders man knelt down beside the noble, hands resting on his knees as he looked the man in the eyes with a quiet chuckle. "I'll just go visit your lovely wife and the little Angie after I'm done with you. Better not to grow up at all, thnn to grow up without a father, no?"

 

"N-NO! NO! I BEG YOU, DON'T KILL-" the noble's panic shrieking was cut off when one of the assassin's daggers found its target in the noble's throat, silencing any further begging. Maker, it was fun when they tried convincing him not to kill them. Begging was always so amusing.

 

When the man got up, leaving the warm corpse bleeding on the groud, a hawk silently landed on the man's shouler, awaiting his further commands. The ranger smirked, wiping the blood off of his dagger as he started walking down the path that led out of the forest.

 

"Come on, Ouray. We do have to inform the family, no? And take care of Angie dearest before her mother. Makes it so much interesting when a parent is watching..."

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Wind walked into the Hanged Man, he drew back his hood and smiled. Corff smiled, "Wind! Good to see you again lad!" Yelled the elderly bartender, He looped around the bar and embraced the rogue. Wind was surprised to see Corff again, he had always talked of retiring and every time he came back to the Hanged Man.

 

'It is good to see you again mi amigo... I had figured this place would have been sold ages ago.' Said Wind as he walked up to the bar, the regulars all knew him, he slid a few gold pieces down. 'A round for the house...' He said much to the excitement of the usual Rogues and Pirates.

 

As Corff went to work pouring the drinks four large men wearing red sashes walked into the tavern, they were members of his crew. They seemed to be in high spirits, talking amongst each other about the fine women at the Blooming Rose and sharing stories of their many adventures abroad.

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Just as she had predicted the room filled within minutes and was starting to be crammed. All the noise, laughter, conversations, burping, glass clanking and else made Ruth's headache worse and she was wondering where her damned breakfast was. To her relieve the woman she had asked about whether she was new or not answered, which drew her attention away from her headache and grumbling stomache.

Ruth smiled.

"No, I am not. I wish I was though. It had this ... little bit of charm when I first got here. By now it's just another piss hole," she shrugged. "But beggars can't be choosy. Anyways. You look like a woman who can handle herself," Ruth pointed carefully at the elf's dagger she saw and gave her a wink.

"I am currently looking for crew members," she paused, wondering whether she sounded pathetic or not, but decided that she had already started a conversation now, so might as well go for it. "And well, I was wondering if you're interested in ... adventures and that kind? I've really been hanging around here for far too long, and I could stand to get out of here and see the world again."

Meanwhile, another woman sat down next to Ruth.

"Good day ladies," she chirped and ordered herself a glass of wine.

Ruth smiled and nodded her head towards her. "Hi there. You really trying the wine, ah?"

To Ruth's utter joy, along with the ladies glass of wine, came her breakfast and tea. Without waiting for either the elf's or the lady's answer, she dug in but made sure they were both aware that she was listening.

The food was alright, the tea was nasty but better than nothing and Ruth emptied it in two, three sips, then ordered herself a bottle of ale instead to wash the eggs and bacon down with. The food immediately helped her hangover and she leaned back in the flimsy chair and waited for further conversations as somebody announced a round on the house. - Well, life just got a little sweeter - Ruth thought and lifted her bottle of ale towards the generous man, who was quite handsome, too and seemed to have had his share of time on the sea.

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Lianna listened to what the woman said while watching everyone who came inside. She was surprised how many people were willing to spend their coins in this poor looking establishment. She feared to think what other taverns in Kirkwall looked like.

 

"Inviting me to your ship, already?" She asked cheekily. "We haven't even introduced ourselves." The elf chuckled. She liked the idea of leaving Kirkwall, it would be for the best to leave the city before the guards associated the recent murder with a certain red-haired elf from Antiva.

 

"Gracias!" She shouted to the elf who generously bought drinks for everyone in the tavern. She then returned her attention back to the human sitting beside her. "The name's, Lianna." She introduced herself.

========================================

Thomas made his rounds in Lowtown. It was fairly a calm afternoon. No one was pickpocketed or cheated by the merchants, not yet at least. As he turned round the corner he saw a poorly dressed man lying on the ground. At first he dismissed the guy as a drunk, who was too drunk to find his way back home but something seemed off. He approached the beggar and took a closer look at him. "You okay there, buddy?" He asked but got no response. "I'm talking to you." The guard said until he realized that the man was unconscious and badly beaten as well.

 

"Andraste's burning farts!" He exclaimed and tried to lift him up to get him to the healer.

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It was turning out to be a mildly hot day, though the cramped, musky spaces of Lowtown meant that it felt sweltering, without even a breeze to penetrate the stench of the slums. Terys found this especially irritating, since he was wearing armor and hadn't had anything to drink for a couple of hours now.

 

He walked through the crowded streets, roughly shouldering his way through the crowds of people, intent simply on getting a meal to eat for lunch. He opened the door to the Hanged Man, walking inside and noting with disdain that it was getting crowded already. The fact that sailors had holed up here just made it worse, because sailors grew rowdy when they drank too much. It was a gathering group of various assorted people at the far end of the Tavern, however, that caught his attention.

 

He intentionally sat down a few tables from them and ordered himself some soup and some bread. A few of these adventurers looked like the troublemaking types and one of them looked somewhat mage-like. When his eyes wandered the bar, Terys saw a nasty-looking redhead in the corner...with a staff. It looked like a family heirloom, but it nevertheless drew his suspicion. She looked as if something was paining her, though he couldn't be sure. He scowled as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, making sure he could get up quick if need be.

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Wind smiled as his crewmen began to sing the Ballad of The Drunk Sailor in his honor, their raid on the Antivan Spice ship had paid off well. Each and every man got a good amount of gold, unbeknownst to the crew Wind refused his share, normally the Captain took forty shares but he took half a single share, the rest he put back into the pot for the crew, only him and his paymaster knew of this. When the Ilana came to port sailors clamored over each other to get a spot aboard, that kind of fame made recruiting easy but it also made the Port-Wardens unhappy. A standing order aboard his ship was to never steal while in port and never harass the locals, to break those two rules met with severe punishment, numerous times he has had to enforce it but on his crew if a man makes an accusation he has to deliver the punishment personally, that alone kept false accusations at bay, if one accuses another falsely the punishment is delivered upon the accuser twice as hard.

 

If a man accuses another man of stealing, instead of loosing a hand he lost both. If another man accuses another man for murder instead of being marooned he is beheaded. These simple rules made life aboard ship easy and crime-less. The only crime ever sanctioned aboard his ship is the crime of Piracy. Wind leaned against the counter with a mug of Rivaini rum, his private stock that he liberated from a corrupt merchant's estate some years before and gave to Corff to pay his rent when he lived here.

 

He scanned the room and saw a Templar sitting at a table which was rare, Templars never came down to Low Town unless they were mage hunting, he continued onto the table with a red haired woman and another woman that seemed to be eyeing the sailors around the tavern, she didn't appear as a doxy so she must be a prospective Captain looking for a crew. After a long moment he drained his cup and had it refilled and approached with a second cup in his hand, he set them down in front of the two women and smiled a sly smile.

 

'Hola Senoritas... Welcome to the Hanged Man, I am... well I am me and you are you.' He said with a wide smile as he deflected away from admitting his name, not with the Templar in the room. His Antivan accent was sweet as honey and his long gold hair was tied back into a shallow ponytail. Most would see him as a womanizer but in reality it was the prospective Captain he had interest in, not in a sexual manner but he liked to keep an eye on his competition.

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Isadora looked up as the first group of people entered the Hanged Man, a blonde elf with handsome features and too much ego for his own good, and what appeared to be his band of burly sailors, judging from the way they were waddling around and slurring harmless profanities, and rather loudly discussing their experiences in the Blooming Rose... Well how lovely, her usually quiet spot was taken over by imbeciles.

 

It was the next figure that walked in that had Isadora on edge however, his walk, his armour, his sword, even the very air around him... Templar. And by the looks of him a nasty one too. She could see him scanning the crowd and started staring at those that looked like mages... Well this was just a splendid occurrence wasn't it? Not only had her silence been disrupted, but now her safety too.

 

----

 

Agathe decided that she wouldn't become involved in the conversation of these two women, it was none of ehr business, although it did make her chuckle as the first asked the red haired elf if she was interested in joining a crew, having only just met the woman and judging her only by the fact she looked able to handle herself.

 

It was the next figure that appeared however, that made Agathe smile, as the familiar face if Wind appeared before her. With a grin she nodded in greeting, knowing that since their last meeting she had both aged and changed considerable. "Now there is a face I didn't think I would see again... Wind, what a pleasure to see you!"

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Wind smiled, he glanced over his shoulder to see the Templar hadn't noticed. Agathe, a woman he hadn't seen in a good long while. "Been sometime... still running from your husband?" He asked idly, the Templar he truly cared not for but if one of these other sailors were with the port authority he would have some trouble, as sure as his luck always was the shuffling sound of three men came to his back and the not so soft tapping on his shoulder, Wind took a deep drink of a unattended cup and turned to face what is most likely going to be a punch across the face.

 

Wind felt his head snap back and his nose begin to bleed as a hamhock sized fist took him in the face, three burly sailors wielding large curved swords were there. "You stole our spice shipment Pirate!" Yelled the leader in a strong Antivan accent, Wind wiped his nose free and lashed out with a sharp kick to the mans groin that dropped him like a sack of stones, one of the sailors moved for his sword but Wind's hands were quicker and he threw a throwing knife into the back of the mans hand, the Antivan man began to scream like a stuck pig as he gripped his now useless hand. The third had time to draw his blade and Wind backflipped onto the table and kicked a mug into the man's face that caught him in the nose.

 

The first man stood with one hand on his manhood and the other on his sword, Wind moved for his blade but chose not to. Corff didn't like bloodshed in his tavern. Wind noticed the last man was getting up and with a fantastical flip and soared over the wild slash by the wounded man and kicked him in the back of the head as he twirled in the air and slammed into the hard wood table hard and went limp.

 

He landed gracefully on his feet and drew one of his Crow-Blades, the blade itself was intricately carved with roses and vines along the blade with the name Isabela etched along the blade. He moved towards the burly Antivan with a broken nose like a wraith and placed the edge of the blade to his neck. "I recommend you collect your shipmates and leave this place amigo." He said quietly, his breathing was shallow from the fight and it only made him feel older.

 

After a long moment the man nodded and Wind let him go, he collected his allies and stumbled out of the Tavern.

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