Macman253

Wind nodded, he sensed Celeste really cared about her Templar companion. The elf had some experience dealing with the Chantry but it was limited. He sorta felt sorry for the plight of mages, to have zealots with big swords watching you all the time and preparing themselves to kill you simply because you could be possessed by a demon. Wind sipped on his drink as he pondered it, remembering his time with the Crows and seeing a lot of similarities. He strove to be the best assassin not just because if he failed his life would have been forfeit but because he wanted to. It was a mark of honor, it was a goal. But it was not until he had achieved it that he realized his true situation and that because of it he could never find love or true companionship. He would one day fail and he would be dead, it was only a matter of time. Wind shook his head to throw off the brooding thoughts and forced himself to smile, "What of you Messere Templar?" Asked the elf rather formally. "What brings a Templar like you to the nasty business of Deep Roads delving?" He said to the aged warrior, gesturing to him with his mug of bitter.

Wind woke slowly, he stood up after rubbing the sleep from his eyes and rolled his shoulder until it make a loud popping noise. The elf silently put his clothes on, retrieved his gear and walked out of the room. When he came down the stairs he was idly whistling a tune to see Celeste devouring her breakfast. He chuckled mildly and approached, sitting next to her. He ran his hand through his hair to flatten his bedhead. "Hungry I take it?" He said with a smile, the waitress approached. Wind turned to regard her, "Toast, eggs and a pint of bitter." He said and nodded to her, she turned away from them. Wind faced Celeste. "So, how does a mage end up takin' a job in the Deep Roads?" He asked curiously, he had met many mages in his time, albeit more then a few of them usually ended with him killing them but he had met more then a few Apostate mages in The Hanged Man when he lived in Kirkwall.

Wind smiled as he heard the conversation between his companions. The elf laid a few coins out for his food and stood. He walked over quietly and dropped another handful on the same pile as Celeste and Abraham. "I'd be dead before lettin' a templar buy me a room at Tapsters." He said with a gentle smile and warm chuckle as he patted the Templar on the armor plated shoulder. Wind glanced at a dwarf sitting in the corner that was giving him a long stare. A prey-instinct cued in the back of his skull. "Something's up." He thought as he noticed the dwarf quickly tried to hide his gaze in the mug of liquor he had. He knew his only hope of getting away without shedding undue blood is by getting out of Orzammar by morning. Wind turned his eyes back to his companions, "I think it best we set for Redridge early in the morning." He said awkwardly. Trying to hide his concern, the last thing he wanted was for his companions to be caught in the crossfire of his past.

Wind listened with his keen ears, the various conversations were mundane in nature. One dwarf lamented his marital woes to a trusted confidant. Another were swapping tales of the Deep Roads. He heard the murmurings of his two companions. The elf drew one of his Crow-Blades and used it to cut a chunk of Nug meat from the shank that had been delivered and listened. As he did he failed to notice the voices from behind him. "Dag, that blade the knife-ear is using looks familiar." Said the one dwarf, he wore a light green tunic and hood. His beard was patchy and long compared to his companions short shaved beard and bald head. He also wore a green tunic. The bald dwarf looked over Wind's shoulder to notice the unique knife he possessed. The balding dwarf turned his head to his companion. "Yeah, what of it?" Asked the dwarf called Dag. The longbearded dwarf gestured to Wind. "Were you not 'ere a few years back when the bosses brother got chopped up by a blade like that?" He asked Dag. The burly dwarf looked back again and then returned his gaze to his friend. "Wasn't he killed by one of them Antivian Crow type fellas'?" Dag asked, a stupid look on his face as he did. The dwarf smacked Dag on the forehead. "Think about it mate! The boss put te' word out... c'mon. Let's go tell him we found one of them Crows." The dwarf stood, tossing some coins on the table next to a half ate plate of food. Dag swept a leg of Nug into his pocket and took a few rolls for good measure to be eaten on the way as they left Tapsters. Wind turned his head to regard the two departing dwarves with little interest other then checking his pockets after they had left. It would not have been the first time he had his pockets dipped while he sat at a tavern. Comfortable everything is where it was before he sat down he turned his attention back to the quiet conversation of his compatriots. Oblivious to the situation brewing...

Wind smiled at the dwarf serving girl as she brought him a leg of Nug, bread and cheese and some ale. The elf gladly picked up the Nug leg and bit into it. He had Nug before, it tasted bland and earthy, because of these reasons he had little to no love for it but after the near death adventure in the deep roads this particular Nug leg tasted as if he was made by gods. His hunger took over and he began to devour the Nug leg and bread in large bites, washing them both down with gulps of ale. He ordered a second plate and kept to himself as he ate.

Wind smiled and nodded. He agreed with getting a room at Tapsters. The assassin slung his bow over his torso and drew his hood over his face. "No time like the present." He said as he stepped through the door of the store-turned-chantry and into Orzammar proper. The Dalish Elf walked nonchalantly, seeming to be impervious to the near death experience he had a little less then half a day earlier. The elf walked into Tapsters, the dim hum of conversation died for a moment as the elf entered. Wind looked up to see more then a few dwarven faces staring at him with various expressions. After a moment the sound level returned to normal and he was ignored. "Guess elves are uncommon here." He thought and gave a slight shrug. The elf sat at the smallish chair in the corner of the room. He waved over the dwarf serving girl and calmly ordered a pint of ale and some food.

I am sorry, its some issues with the christmas season. I will be back in full swing on saturday. If it is okay with you can I return to posting then?

I was going to post today. Family troubles right now. If, it is okay with you I can keep up.

Wind smiled wider then usual when they had safely arrived at Orzammar. He had not been to the dwarven city in years, last time he came here is when he did some contract work for The Crows. The assassin followed close with his compatriots, in case any of the merchant's relatives may wish revenge on him. The elf didn't much like the Chantry, he hadn't any logical reason about his dislike of them, he just found them off-putting and boring. When they entered the small converted chapel he nodded. "Nice place." He sniffed the air and smiled. "Smells like faith and things of that nature." He said in his impenetrable Antivan accent. While Celeste was being tended Wind kept near, sitting on the floor nearby and tending to his arrowheads with a small sharpening file. When the young mage woke, he stood, he had taken off his hood to reveal his handsome features and a warm grin upon his face. He stood silently, watching the exchange, remembering the feeling of losing someone close to you. She made him think of his Clan. He felt a tug at his heart. It was a memory he had not visited in quite a long time and it still hurt him, even after nearly ten years. The Elf forced a smile when he realized his had faded. "Best to let her see a smiling face, then a mirror of her own loss on another." He thought as he stood with his feet apart and his hand resting on his hip and the other clutching the top horn of his Dalish shortbow, the other end of the bow pressed against the wooden floor of the shop-turned-chapel they now stood in. Strapped to each leg was a pair of Crow Blades, in special sheathes on his chestarmor were specially crafted throwing knives that bore the same jagged saw like blade structure as the twin blades on his legs. "Well, we are alive." He finally said. "Way I see it, we can take full advantage of our situation and go about our lives." He said with a slight shrug. "Or..." He continued, pausing for effect. "...We can learn more about who employed us, and then sent us into a Darkspawn infested Thaig." The elf kicked the bow with his foot and flipped it over in a very flourished motion then came to lean on it with both hands crossed over the horn of the bow. He leaned in and gestured to the Templar. "What say you Templar? Up for some thrilling heroics?" He asked with a wry smirk.

Wind could feel his lungs burn as he ran, his blood was on fire. He glanced over his should to see Abraham cut down a pack of Genlocks but he knew instantly he would get overrun. The elf skidded to a stop, turned, drew a second arrow and bit a raven fletching off then laid it on the stave of his bow with another arrow already in place and took aim with both arrows in a flat draw. After a moment he fired, the arrows sprang out. One sinking into the forehead of a Hurlock that had been catching up to Abraham. The other taking a Genlock in the chest, sending the small Darkspawn flying back a few feet from the impact. Wind smirked under his facemask and spung on his heel to resume running for his life. "I am surprised that worked." He thought as he ran, he glanced over his shoulder to see the horde of Darkspawn behind them and decided to be proud about it later, right now he had more immediate concerns.

Kellak grumbled a laugh as We'tak fell out of the tree. He had to admit the Thri-kreen was rather pleasant company. The dwarf gestured in his direction while speaking to Lucas. "'Tere' is an ol' dwarf sayin', It 'taint te' fall 'tat kills ye', it be te' sudden stop at te' end." Mused Kellak. He puffed on his pipe lightly, realizing his flame had gone out so he struck up another twig and went about lighting it again.

Wind heard the clanking thud of an arrow striking the Templar. The elf fired another arrow as he ran towards the Templar. Darkspawn arrows hitting the stone floor and walls around them, one striking the ground where Wind's foot just was. The Assassin growled, jumped and fired an arrow blindly over his shoulder as he landed on the stone earth. "I don't want to alarm you Templar but there might just be a bloodthirsty horde of Darkspawn coming!" He yelled as he turned the corner, running passed the armored Human.

When he accepted the contract to accompany an expedition into the Deep Roads he had not planned on fighting off an army. Wind, the lithe Dalish assassin turned knife-for-hire stood on a rock, he knocked an arrow and loosed it into the skull of a pursuing Hurlock. His companions were either dead or fleeing, he heard a loud voice behind him call for them to return to the surface. The assassin felt obliged to agree with his suggestion. Wind knocked another arrow, fired it into the chest of a Genlock and leaped off the rock with a backwards flip, landing deftly on the jagged roads and immediately bursting into a sprint up the tunnel to the surface. He turned briefly to fire another arrow into the horde following them. It stuck into a Genlocks head, the darkspawn had just enough time to clutch the shaft of the arrow before stumbling forward and landing flat on his face, the black bloodied arrowhead protruding from the back of the darkspawn's skull. "I know I said I would accept death when it came." He thought as he ran after his companions and knocked another arrow. He looked over his shoulder and fired almost blindly as he followed. "But I am not yet ready to die." He said as he ran, his legs pounding on the once finely crafted cobblestone roads, the sound of his footsteps drowned out by the horde of metal boots beating on the stone behind them, his voice nearly vanished among the growls, roars and the other bone chilling sounds that Darkspawn can make when their bloodthirst is up.

Kellak nodded, he noticed hesitation in her words but he accepted it. The dwarf turned away from her and sat down on a flat rock next to the fire. He removed his pipe from his pocket and dashed it's contents out in the palm of his hand. He filled it with fresh pipeweed and lit it with a burning stick from the fire. He puffed to stoke the flames in the pipe, a sweet smelling smoke drifted out from his pipe. The dwarf leaned towards the fire as he idly puffed on his pipe and looked into the flames. He felt a large head lay in his lap, he looked down to see large brown eyes staring up at him. Terra had her head in his lap and looked at him oddly. He sighed and scratched behind her short ears, her eyes closed and a small smile appeared on her face as she enjoyed the simple gesture of affection.

It wasn't trouble, just lack of interest. I couldn't get into the character. Wind is a character I love to RP as and TOF I have been keeping up with. I got this Auri :cool:

Name: Wind Gender: Male Age: 31 Race: Dalish Elf Class: Rogue Specialization: Assassin Appearance: Wind is of lean build, a natural athletic form. He bears a tattoo on his neck that means 'Cursed Wind' and Antivan Crow's tattoo on his right forearm. On his left is an array of tally mark tattoos that signify his completed assassinations for the Crows. He has striking blonde hair and his eyes are a mismatched color of light blue and dark green. He is tall for an elf, standing at around 5'5" and over the years he has collected numerous scars. Armor/Clothing: He wears a drake scale leather chestguard and boots. He wears a grey hood and face mask with a dark cloak to cover himself. Weapon(s): Luvana and Isabela, his twin Crow-Blades. A Dalish shortbow and throwing knives. Accessories: Smoke bombs and satchel. Personality: Wind is a larger then life type of person. Likes strangers and people. He is fond of drinking and carousing. He comes off as arrogant but the true depth of his personality is far more. Wind enjoys adventure and companionship. He is a hopeless romantic at heart, chasing after skirts and defending the weak, a trait that has caused him endless amounts of trouble in the past. Family/Relationships: Girlfriend, Ilana (Deceased) Wife, Luvana (Unknown whereabouts) Background: Wind was born to a Dalish clan living in Antiva. As a boy he was taken by the Crows and trained as an assassin. After many years working for them and achieving the rank of Master within the group of assassins he left the Crows. Tracking down his old clan and marrying the girl he loved as a boy, Luvana. After a year living with the nomadic Dalish he was hunting in the woods and fell under attack by a band of Crows, after dispatching them he rushed to the campsite his clan had been using only to find death and destruction. His wife was not amongst the bodies. He left, wandered to Kirkwall where he set himself up at The Hanged Man, in Kirkwall he became well known as a mercenary and knife-for-hire. After saving up he bought a ship and fitted her with a crew, then set off to sail as a pirate and smuggler. For several years he plied the shipping lanes, stealing and pillaging his way through numerous merchant vessels. He eventually grew tired of being constantly on the run once he set foot on Ferelden he turned the ship over to his First Mate and departed. Wandering about, offering his lethal handiwork for coin and searching for a cause greater then himself.

Yeah, i am also having a hard time investing.

Kellak watched as the Thri-kreen was engulfed in flames. He went silent, removing a rune carved whetstone from his pack and running it over the edge of Haelga's blade. He crawled into himself spiritually, the branding he received at the hands of the darkies still fresh in his mind, the wound burning from the memory. If it was not faerie fire then it had to be something else. He paused from his work to stroke his beard and shrugged. He admitted to himself that he was not fluent in the ways of magic, while he boasted considerable power with Earth magic he realized he knew relatively little about magic in general. Ragnorrakh was not the most attentive instructor, he taught Kellak how to mend his wounds with mud and how to meld into the Earth itself and use it's strength to enhance his own but he never instructed him further then Earth magic. The dwarf slipped out of his solemness and looked at Maydiira and stood, he approached the Drow and offered his hand. "I wish te' apologize fer' what I said." Admitted the dwarf, his meaty hand extended and open. "T'was dishonorable... I 'ave te' remind me'self that not all darkies are alike." He said in a tone that sounded like rocks rubbing together but it was meant honestly. Kellak explored his feelings and the events over the last few days, he felt embarrassed about his actions and he felt her display had humbled him.

Kellak scoffed. "Aye, an' faerie fire burns hotter than Moradin's forge." He said with a dismissing wave at the Thri-Kreen and Drow. "She might not mention 'tis, but te' lasses people like te' use it to hot tere' irons 'fer brandin'." The dwarf pulled his tunic's collar down to reveal a odd shaped brand on his chest below his collar bone. "Mark tere' property right an' good te' do." The angry dwarf glared at Maydiira, "Right good at it." He took another pull of his ale, swished it around in his mouth and swallowed it before correcting his garb. The little dwarf returned to his brooding, staring into the flames of the campfire as he prepared his pipe and lit it with a burning twig. He wanted no part of the Drow, and he wanted her to know it.

Alright, fine. I will edit it. If I knew this was so important I wouldn't have bothered honestly. It was taken out of context but it was just an offhanded remark. It really is not important to the story. But rest assured, I will re-edit the post.

Polishing to defeat rust was one thing, it was often a mix of sand, urine and water. It did not shine, it just scrapped off the rust and grime. It was easier to clean them then to continuously polish them which was a large effort, one suit of plate armor could have dozens of pieces that could take hours to clean. Which is why most knights in the field didn't wear shiny well adorned armor outside of competition or for ceremonial purposes. Most 'Battle' armor was plain and worn for two major reasons, Firstly, cheaper and faster to make. Secondly, Battle armor would often get ruined in battle so it would be costly to have fine high quality armor for every battle which would not likely see a second one. Andre is speaking out of logical need here. These knights may be putting on a show while still being battle ready, he is just observing that fact. I had no intention to ruffle feathers over it and frankly I am surprised it did. Post will not be reworded because it doesn't need to, it's a personal opinion of the characters that he did not express openly. It was simply an observation.

Andre followed close, he ran over what little he knew of Arthurian legends as they walked. He scratched his stubble idly as he thought, a bad habit he had developed, he recalled his ex-girlfriend having an intense dislike of his beard. He shook off the memories and focused on the two knights. They wore battle-dress well. He smiled slightly, taking in a fresh breath. It was moments like this that fortified his resolve in discovering the truths of history, despite being in an alternate universe. He felt that watching it closely would be beneficial when he returned, or rather, *if* he returned. The american-born historian turned to face Kat as she identified the two knights. "My knowledge of Arthurian legends is limited." He stood with his gloved hands behind his back, a posture his father often adopted. "But I would not be so trusting, we have no idea what our situation truly is nor do we know that Mademoiselle Merlin is telling the truth about the circumstances surrounding us." He said skeptically. While he knew that they were no longer in their own universe, he was not quite sure about this gender bend story. He was rather doubtful of magic before, now, with his situation he was less so zealous against it. He found himself rather curious and it was an unsettling feeling.

Kellak brought a rock to the fire and sat down on it, he set his keg down next to him and pulled himself another flagon of ale. Odyn perched atop the rock-tent under which Terra was sleeping peacefully. The dwarf stared into the flames and drank idly, when Leif sent a jet of flame into the already crackling fire he stood up. "Moradin's beard!" He exclaimed. The dwarf sighed and sat back down shaking his head. "Like wee children... the lot of 'em." He growled before looking down into his mug, he had not realized he had thrown the contents of the flagon onto the ground. "Bloody waste." He said with a slur as he poured himself another and shook the keg, it was getting low but there was enough left. Kellak turned to face the one called Rameses. "So tell me lad... ye' one o' them Fire Elemental's?" He asked, gesturing towards him with his mug.

Andre stood with his feet apart, a thoughtful look on his face. "This is amazing." He muttered, "Proof of the multiverse theory." He added, a little louder. He listened to the aged woman and the story of what plagued Britannia. So far, everything she mentioned checked out with the Arthurian legends, with some minor changes as to his current knowledge. The historian took the pendant and removed a pair of spectacles from his shirt pocket, he held them up to his eyes and looked over the pendant. It was a rather plain silver pendant, not unlike ones he has recovered from burial sites around england. He adorned himself with the pendant and tucked his glasses away again. "Shall we go visit these Knights?" He said to everyone with a wry smile.

Kellak laughed at Leif's story. "You 'tink they're big. Wait until ye' 'ave an' infestin' of Dire Mole Rats.... need a bloody spear to kill them 'tings." Said the dwarf as he followed them to the campsite. When they got to the campsite Kellak whirled Terra around, looking at the ground until he found a suitable deposit of sandstone not too deep under the surface. The dwarf slowly unsaddled himself, he reached under Terra's belly and unlatched her custom saddle, she shook gladly as it slid off her dark brown fur. Kellak patted her neck as she rubbed up against him in thanks, the little dwarf heaved the large saddle onto one shoulder and set it on the ground nearby. He turned to a patch of bare earth and reached out with his hands, he clenches his fists and closes his eyes. Summoning the earth magic he used to manipulate stone. He stomped his foot hard and pulled his hands down to his side, two large slats of sandstone erupted from the earth to create a tent like structure large enough for the Bearcat and Kellak. He stomped his foot once more to seal up the rear opening with another chunk of stone. The dwarf smiled at his work and dusted his hands off. Terra sniffed around the structure and crawled inside to lay down, after a long day of travel he couldn't blame her for behind tired. Kellak turned to face his companions. "Let's get a fire goin'."