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The Age of the Dragon


Naktis

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"That," answered Jadaco. "Was my attempt at being a good person. They were slugging the guy three-on-one, and while I acknowledge that he isn't helpless, he needed some help nevertheless. Besides, the Crimson Oars have a reputation for cornering women, if you understand what I mean. Even if what that elf said was a bald-faced lie, those louts were thugs, through and through, and not just because they were with the Oars. I think we'd better get this excursion on the road." He added the next part quietly. "Before any guards or templars show up." He sheathed his blades. "Orum, heel." The dog hopped off the merc.
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It wasn't long before he had scaled the side of the Tower Of Kirkwall and made his way into the Ambassadors level. Here were the embassy's of all the recognized factions and here was the Elven Ambassador, ironically it was a human named Gelt Harlowe. He had gotten this position for the perks and it gave him the power he needed to perform certain black back alley duties for much more powerful people. Everyone knew he was as bent as a corkscrew but noone could pin it on him. He dug his climbing hook into the notch and glanced through the window, noone inside but he knew that since he watched the Ambassador leave earlier. He pulled the dagger free from its sheath at his lower back and used it while holding on with his other to pop the lock on the window and he rocked back and forth and he levered himself inside and landed quietly on the stone floor.

 

He immediately glanced around the room, a large heating crystal sat in the center of the room aswell as pottery and other valuable items littered the room in special spots like shelves and on top of stands. A valuable collection of dwarven artifacts and Qunari Crystals. Sitting on the wall was a oddly placed framed painting of the Ambassador wielding a large blade and fighting off a horde of darkspawn during the battle of Lothering.

 

"Seriously, who would be that foolish to hide a safe behind a painting of themselves?"

 

In reality he was never there, during the Darkspawn attack on Lothering he was in Denerim. Wind knew this because the Amaranthinian Apple, one of ten that are known to exist sat on a pedestal nearby and that was auctioned off for fifty thousand sovereigns in Denerim during the attack at Lothering.

 

After close inspection he found the latch and the frame which turned out to be a door to reveal the safe. Quickly and almost effortlessly he cracked the safe and opened it to find a series of letters from a man named L and it bore the seal of the Crimson Oars mercenary band. The letters spoke of contracts that had been completed and other various activities but these all looked to be in order as Ambassador Harlowe was known for using mercenary companies to complete his goals and those of much wealthier people. He dug deeper into the safe but all the papers he saw were legit but as he rummaged he thumped the back of the safe and it made a thick hollow sound like the side of a empty wooden box. He pushed on it and it spun up to show it was on a hinge and there was a strange crystal like device surrounded by what looked to be dwarven metal, also inside were more letters from L but these talked of the requested shipments being seized at the port. Wind knew that if he was to reveal this he needed the partners to the letters, luckily he found a transcript showing the location of the warehouse. As he shut the panel and made sure everything was in place a tall man wearing a white robe entered and drew his sword.

 

"Thief! Thief! Guards!" Yelled the man and then he charged, Wind drew one of his daggers and parried the strike, as the stranger stumbled forward Wind let out a sharp kick that struck the man in the face and put him out cold. he heard the familiar clanking of plate boots and he could tell it was the two door guards at the end of the hall. Wind locked in a pair of bolts that were coated in the venom of the Sand-Drake, a powerful paralytic poison. The guards burst into the room and he fired his arm-mounted crossbow, both bolts hit home into the chest of the guards and they both toppled over stiff like wooden planks. By the time the he got to the window the white-robed man had awoken and with a face of pure hate he flung a spell at the intruder. The wall of kinetic energy knocked out the window and the wall sending it careening down the side of the tower towards the earth. Wind took a flat run for the opening and fashioned his arm-bow with the grapple bolt and tied the rope around his waist.

 

Just as a Frost Whip spell lashed out at his feet he dove through the hole. As he dove out he turned around and raised up his fist and extended his middle finger at the mage as he fell. Smiling at his little act of defiance Wind turned over and he flung out his cloak and his rapid descent abruptly changed to a slow gliding fall. Just as he got to the end of the enchantments period of life and fired the bolt and it pierced the side of the tower just as the enchantment let up and he started falling but this time he wouldn't fall to his death but the end ride was scary enough as he swung wild towards the side of the tower. He stopped himself with his feet and looked down, he was maybe eight feet off the ground so he unlatched himself and flew down. He looked up to see three templar guards running after him, Wind took off at a run and launched off a merchants table and vaulted over the small dividing wall and vanishing over the side.

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"Well if we're all ready to go then we should go to the merchant quarters in Hightown. That's where our supplies are at." Illadriel said and walked up to the counter.

 

"If anyone will look for me tell them to go to the merchant quarters." The bartender nodded and continued cleaning the glasses. "Take everything you need from your rooms. I'll wait outside." With that the Warden walked outside, Thomas followed her as he already had everything he needs.

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Jadaco, having had his every belonging in his backpack, also followed Illadriel outside and waited, and leaned against the wall. Orum sat beside him.
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Isabela would have enjoyed the fight, yes, she would have even gladly joined in, but she knew these people. She knew the name, the gang, the meaning and what they did. She knew it all too well and hid her face behind another glass of ale until the noises of the fighting were over and she felt relatively save again. The whole time her facial expression didn't reveal any of her concerns, however.

Jadaco was a nice guy. He had jumped in to help the elf. But that also made him one of these people that would always get himself into trouble. He reminded her a little of Hawke, the thought painted a smile on her face.

"Nice trick, there," she said, lifting her glass his direction before Illadriel suggested getting ready to go. Isabela finished her drink, left a couple of coin pieces on the table and followed the Warden and the scarred man with his dog outside.

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Alaila had no reason to stay at the inn so she followed the Warden, Thomas, Jadaco and Isabela out, leaning on the wall as soon as they were outside. A wooden staff in her hand and a backpack on her back, she not had nor needed anything more. The letter she had found earlier was tucked in the bag she was carrying, safe from prying eyes and Templars.

 

The mage hoped they'll leave the town as soon as possible, but they still needed to get to the merchant's quarters. Idea didn't really appeal to the mage, but the Warden was leading and she had no intention of arguing with her. Gods forbid. The ending of that would be catastrophical. For the mage, of course.

 

Having been in the town for so long, Alaila could barely wait to catch some time alone in the forest and fly around for a while. Nothing relaxed her more than that.

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While Illadriel, Thomas, Jadaco, Isabela and the red-haired elf are going outside, Cyhran stays for a moment in the tavern.

He takes the bag, which he has received from his former guild-teammate, from his belt.

He looks worried in the contents of the bag.

"What have you planned with this artefact...", he thinks.

Reattached the closed bag on his belt, he gets up and walks outside to the others.

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"Just a couple others and then we can go. Finally." Jadaco said, he was eager for this, and the trip through the wilderness on the way there would be particularily enjoyable. He wondered if the elf came from the city or not, whether if he wandered off for a while into a forest or something he'd bump into her by accident, that would definitely be awkward. Edited by Flipout6
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Alaila looked at Jadaco for a second, remembering how he wanted to 'save' her even if she was in no real danger....at least that's what she thought. In a way, the elf felt like she owed him and she liked to keep her bills clean. And that pirate, no matter how disturbing Alaila found the fact that the woman wore no pants. What the hell did she do in winter? Also, would it kill her to at least try to be nice to the others? She's going to be stuck with them for quite a while now.

 

"Your companion..." she looked at Jadaco, her voice quiet, "He's a mabari, isn't he?"

 

Well....all the future conversations will just reek of awkward. Brilliant.

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"I knew a Mabari once," Isabela nodded to herself. "Hawke had one. Smelly little bugger ... but smarter than most men I've met." She chuckled at her own joke and moved along. She admired Illadriel's walk, very confident. And she liked the armor. Although it could use a little more leather ... or less. She grinned.

"So ... may I ask where you got that scar from, sir?" Isabela then asked, looking at Jadaco.

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