Dragon Age: Origins [IC/Sign-up on OOC]

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

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Lothering

Lothering was crowded with people, the 'streets', corners and buildings packed with people. Lothering had always been a busy place, but not as much as it was now. Ostagar had fallen to the Darkspawn. The Fifth Blight had taken over the ruins of the city, and with it they were conquering the Hinterlands. Thousands had traveled northwards in panic. Many of the refugees had come to Lothering in the hope of finding refugee, but to no avail. The inn was packed. As were the storages, and the houses, and the Chantry House. The market tents, too. Even the streets. Outside of the town stood an iron cage with a man inside, avoided by all. He was to be left to the Darkspawn. He would die here. Many more would, though they hoped they wouldn't. Hope was the only thing keeping the men and women in Lothering alive.

For many, Lothering was a place of hope. Not for Dunstan Ausley. To him, Lothering was opportunity. Opportunity to find those wanting to fight the Darkspawn, to make a difference. An opportunity to redeem himself after Ostagar and his... retreat. He had decided to put a notice on the Chantry board, calling for any individual interested in fighting the Darkspawn to come together, and to meet him in the inn.
Thus, the Templar sat waiting in the over-crowded inn, studying the people around him, looking for anyone that might have answered his call. So far, he saw no one of interest, save for a redhead Orlesian in chantry robes. He had asked. Sge was waiting for someone, and that wasn't him. Thus, Dunstan waited.

[Garwall]

Karith slid into a seat at the right corner at the front bar at the Lothering Inn slowly, a slight wince on his face for only a moment. Days of riding had left his lower body a little more than sore. He let his right hand naturally drop to his side, and he quickly reached into his belt and withdrew a copper from its contents. He rapped the coin on the wooden surface of the bar several times, giving a quick wave of the fingers to the Innkeeper. Showing a little bit of coin was always the quickest way to gain the attention of a barkeep, but showing too much is the quickest way to having a shiv stuck between your ribs--so for now Karith kept to himself.

He flipped the copper to the man behind the bar. "Ale," he muttered, drawing his cloak tighter about his face, leaning his back against the wall gaining a fair view of the bar. He let his eyes wander for a moment, taking in the sights of Lothering's 'finest'. He lingered on a pretty Orlesian girl for a moment, but returned to surveying the bar shortly afterwards. His focus was quickly broken by the sound of a full tankard of ale hitting the bar surface. " 'Ere you are, sir," the barkeep said. Karith nodded his thanks, and drank deeply for several seconds before slamming the tankard back on the table. It had been some time since he had a decent brew, and he found this one quite satisfactory.

The barkeep eyed the man closely for a moment. "That's quite a weapon," he said with a smirk. His lips quickly fell into a more sullen formation, however. "You must be coming from Ostagar with that kind of equipment. Lucky you."
Karith frowned, and shook his head. "As a matter of fact, I happened to be on my way to Ostagar." His frown deepened, as he began to go over the events of the previous day in his head. Indeed, it seemed there were more people fleeing Lothering than there were entering the crowded town. And the tents, so many people crowding the outskirts--as if they were refugees. Karith looked back at the barkeep, who appeared bewildered. "By the Maker, you really haven't heard, have you?"

[The Serbian Empire]

Marise the Vixen came to Lothering looking for jobs or even a fellow Orlesian to speak about home with. The jobs weren't very lucrative, but she heard an Orlesian accent in the distance from the Chantry. This fellow Orlesian was a redhead in Chantry robes. At worst, she'll be a decent conversation and at best a friend for a network of Orlesian emigrants to Ferelden. Marise approached the Orlesian and asked a few things about the fellow emigrant. Things like "Why did you come to Ferelden?" and "What would make an Orlesian join a Chantry in Ferelden?" were asked. Still there is something more than meets the eyes with this redheaded Orlesian.

After a few seconds of thinking about it Marise looked more carefully at the redhead and noticed a bit of a glimmer attached to a duller hilt. I know she can't be a mage as the Chantry doesn't like mages out in the open like that and warriors aren't know for carrying daggers. Could the Orlesian be a rogue like me? Come to think of it she also looks familiar. I think it might be Leliana, but I'm not sure as I've seen lookalikes before. Nah, it can't be Leli. It just can't be her. Marise then walked out of the Chantry and went to the board and saw a new notice posted. One for killing darkspawn involving a man named Dunstan at the inn. Marise walked towards the inn and noticed a man in a cage. He was very large towering over almost every human in Lothering by at least a foot in height. But that quest awaits at the inn and Marise continued onwards.

[Asyir]

Ser Emmittyn sat quietly in the chantry, meditating and praying to the Maker. He was kneeling down from the pew, which also happens to double as his makeshift bed, as the inn was full to bursting with refugees from across the Hitherlands. The elm pew was covered with light cloth, courtesy of the revered mother, and his sword and other equipment were scattered all over it. Emmittyn only donned his armor while in the chantry, he believed that only Templars should carry weapons within its sacred walls, unlike most nobles, whom believed to be above everyone else. He was gladdened that he was fortunate enough to have found an honorable path in life, thanks to the late King Maric.

"Maric,", the knight thought as the memories of his late king flooded his mind,"He was a bold and cunning man, a man with honor and conviction. A man whose honor was unquestionable. I still remember the day he knighted me, he called me a cherished friend, and a man who always does the right thing. And how do I repay him? Leaving his son to die at the hands of Darkspawn. If he is at the Maker's side, he is scorning me, and cursing my name. I should've stayed and died at Ostagar, Maker forgive me. Maker forgive us. Except Loghain. He's mine to flay alive. That's the least I can for Maric, Calian, and Eldric. Poor Eldric. My son, I will flay Loghain thrice more for you."

Just then a smile appeared on his face, the first one for days.

He prayed until noon, only stopping when a hunger overcame him like a flood. He stood up, donned his sword on his hip, rested his shield upon his back along with his bow and quiver of arrows. He grabbed his coin purse, and stick it on his side, and reached for his helmet, and rested on his head. He wrapped all the cloth together into nice neat bundles, and returned them to the revered mother, and thanked her countless times. After showing his thanks he took his leave of the chantry, and made his way to the inn. He passed chanter Devons, and stopped deciding to look at the chanters board. In the middle of the board stood the notice of bandits raiding caravans containing food and cloth, essentials to the hopeless town of Lothering. A great anger overcame Emmittyn as he thought,"Bandits, the lowliest of the low. How can one prey upon their countrymen, their fellow kin, during a time like this? They must be killed, then quartered, and their remains feed to the wolves."

Emmittyn knew where he was going now, there was no doubt in his mind. "Lets go to the inn and round up some men, and show those bandits the nice tasting snack called steel, I hear it's nutritious."

Emmittyn opened the tavern door, and the scent of despair, hopelessness, and fear washed over him. The tavern was full, but as far as Emmittyn could see, no knights we more there, not even a damned soldier or warrior. He walked to the middle of the tavern to make his announcement. He almost held his tongue. Almost.

He roared out a thunderous shout, that turned all eyes on him, and cause silence throughout the tavern. " Which of you lot have the stones to see justice done? Or do you prefer to drown your sorrows in mead, while these bandits plunder your riches and rape your wives and daughters. I hope Ferelden still has fighting men, men who will die to protect her. Or did they all die at Ostagar. Should we cry back to the Orlesians? Should those brave and honorable Chevaliers march to save Ferelden? I say no! So I ask again, who has the stones to see justice done!"

[Sulania]

Ellisia MacLeode
Lothering

Ellisia walked up to the Chantry of Lothering, taking notice of the man raving near the entrance. Screaming about darkness and how the Darkspawn would swoop down upon them from the wilds. "Nothing but a doomsayer..." She said to herself as she walked up to the Templar outside the door to the Chantry. She met a couple of people just like the raving man, all more crazy than the last, but who could blame him with the Darkspawn threat growing in the South? She looked at the man, almost making a move to speak to him, but continued on her way to the Chantry entrance.

She stopped in front of the Templar at the entrance and presented the reason as to why she was there. "Ellisia MacLeode of the Templars, I have been sent here by Knight-Commander Greagoir to see how this settlement was doing. He was somewhat concerned for this town's well being and also wanted to know if any Mages sent to Ostagar had returned here. If any did, I am here to collect them." She said with haste in her voice, she didn't relish the thought of being in the town for too long. She knew, like many others, that the town was to soon be attacked by the Darkspawn, and she wasn't exactly ready to die at the hands of the Horde.

The Templar was almost startled from her abrupt statement, but calmed himself. "Everything is well under control, Ser Bryant has done his best. The only problems are the bandits and highwaymen that set themselves up on the roads, we drive them off usually though." He then looked to the Southern end of the Imperial Highway, towards several figures standing there. "As to your mage issue, nothing more to report there either. There was an older woman, I can't remember her name, but she was a Mage. She was escorted back to the Circle though by some Templars. If you want some more information, I'd check with the inn near here. You can find lots of information if you talk to someone there."

With that, she turned around and left the man as fast as she arrived. Making her way to the inn of the town. She thought about why she was sent to Lothering by Greagoir, it was likely that he indeed wanted to round up any lost Mages escaping from Ostagar, but you could never tell with him. She herself, didn't enjoy hunting Mages, as she sees them as other people trying to get by, but she also sees them for the danger that they hold. To other people and themselves.

Her thoughts were cut short as she entered the crowded inn, filled with various people of all backgrounds from farmers to merchants to... soldiers? She noticed them eyeing certain people, almost as if they were looking for someone. It wasn't her business, and they didn't stand in her way at the moment, so she dismissed them. She then noticed another Templar that was sitting in the inn. She somewhat recognized him from a long time ago at the Circle Tower, but he was reassigned to the Chapter in Denerim.

He roared out a thunderous shout, that turned all eyes on him, and cause silence throughout the tavern. " Which of you lot have the stones to see justice done? Or do you prefer to drown your sorrows in mead, while these bandits plunder your riches and rape your wives and daughters. I hope Ferelden still has fighting men, men who will die to protect her. Or did they all die at Ostagar. Should we cry back to the Orlesians? Should those brave and honorable Chevaliers march to save Ferelden? I say no! So I ask again, who has the stones to see justice done!"

Her observations were cut short by a loud man who shouted about bandits and brave men. It was an inspiring speech, but she was somewhat indifferent towards the whole Orlesian thing. That was a slight turn off for her, but she was still interested in the bandits. She walked up to the man, and stood straight. "Maybe no men, but there certainly is a woman." She said waiting to see how many men decide to join up, most likely not wanting to be outdone by a woman.

[The Serbian Empire]

He roared out a thunderous shout, that turned all eyes on him, and cause silence throughout the tavern. " Which of you lot have the stones to see justice done? Or do you prefer to drown your sorrows in mead, while these bandits plunder your riches and rape your wives and daughters. I hope Ferelden still has fighting men, men who will die to protect her. Or did they all die at Ostagar. Should we cry back to the Orlesians? Should those brave and honorable Chevaliers march to save Ferelden? I say no! So I ask again, who has the stones to see justice done!"

And Marise heard the shout inside the tavern knowing what Chevaliers tried to do to Liselle. One of them tried to rape her. They might be brave in battle, but they sure aren't honorable men. She opened the door and unsheathed her daggers to show at least someone is willing to slay the darkspawn. I'll kill thousands of them if it means to keep those Chevaliers out. I'll slash them faster than they can hit me back. Marise shouted about the actions of both Loghain and Chevaliers alike. Even a woman can fight! But first I must go after Ser Loghain. Loghain is a coward himself and I suspect he's an Orlesian sympathizer who wants to flood Ferelden with Chevaliers and torment women all across the land! Those Chevaliers will force themselves onto anyone they damn well please. I've seen female ones who will kill any single man who refuses to have sex with them not to mention the male ones. They will rape any woman they damn well please whether she's betrothed or not. Ferelden fought valiantly for freedom from Orlais and I'll kill bandits, darkspawn, and Chevaliers alike if it means we're not under Orlesian rule.

[Phalnia]

Agren Gonrelt
Dwarven Warrior
Lothering

The dwarf moved through the crowded streets of the village. His armor clanked against itself and his maul as he went. On his belt was his purse. He had recently finished a job which had netted him an entire sovereign, a good thing to after having spent all his money on repairs to his armor and weapon. The town was packed with people, most looked to be little more than refugee farmers, escaping the fighting in the South.

Agren had heard of the darkspawn wandering about the Kourk Wilds, or was it the Wild Court? Agren neither knew nor cared what the humans called their lands. His only concern at the moment was what he was to do next. He found that keeping himself busy prevented the reality of his situation from becoming firm. Thirteen years later and Agern still refused to believe that his life was what it was.

Eventually the dwarf made his way through the crowd and arrived at the Chantry. He was less interested in the building itself, preferring the Chanter's board. He looked through the requests placed there. Most were from before the darkspawn arrived and concerned manual labor and lost items. The new ones were much more serious. People were searching for lost loved ones, seeking information on abandoned farmholds, and searching for mercenaries to take them away from the Blight. Agren considered a few of the protection gigs before eying a post looking for adventurers willing to fight the darkspawn. Agren decided this was the contract for him.

Following the postings instructions, Agren arrived at the Inn. He was hit with the smell of ale and humans. There were too many people in this place already and Agren wasn't keen on spending to much time here. He surveyed the room, plenty of the people were armed and could be the one who placed the contract. There were a few Templars who stood out, Agren decided to keep an eye on them. There were also a few Orlesian women conversing, Agren had spent wenough time in Val Royeaux to recognize Orlesians when he saw them. Finally, Agren noticed a man. The boisterous and noisy type. He spoke of justice and bravery. Agren snorted, If this man is so brave and noble why does he need an army to fight a few bandits?, he thought. The dwarf leaned against the wall and continued to survey the room.

[Asyir]

Emmittyn looked at the woman, and gave a nod of approval. He noticed she was a Templar, and he thought, "This woman has more guts then that group of soldiers in that corner over there. It takes more than guts to win battles though. Let's see how well these Templars are trained. "

"A daughter of Ferelden approaches, and to think not one man has approached yet. Where are you 'O sons of Ferelden?

He looked at the Templar directly and said," It is good to see some possess the courage to take action against evils, whether Darkspawn or bandit. It gladdens an old mans heart to know that such vigor exists in our youth."

He bowed courtesly towards her," My name is Ser Emmittyn Ryes, knight of Ferelden, and Bann of Greenstone. To who do I owe the pleasure of speaking to?"

[Communist Androids]

Adethiel Idras
Lothering
After more hours of walking than Adeth cared to know, the elf had finally reached her destination. Lothering. The village was even worse than she had expected, but not by much. She'd heard tales on the way to the town, fresh from the mouths of refugees running in the opposite direction. Just as she was led to believe, the place was overflowing with refugees and poverty. It was enough to make Adethiel feel bad about plotting to rob these people, but you did what you had to do. So, hood pulled over her head and concealing her 'knife ears' as the shems called them, she made her way into the town.

The first place the elf went was the local inn. It'd be nice to get a drink, maybe a room if the Maker smiled upon her and left one open. She barely bit back a bitter laugh at the thought. The Maker had never helped her before, and that wasn't going to change. Making her way into the inn, she noticed that it was just as full as the rest of the town. So she'd have to stand. Great. Still, it'd serve her purposes well, even if she wouldn't get that drink any time soon. Instead she silently inspected the patrons, looking for anyone who seemed to have a larger coin purse than the rest, or that would just be easy to rob. While the strange hooded figure would likely draw some attention, it'd be less than if she had her ears showing, and nobody would know when she was looking at them either. At least with the hood on she could pass for a particularly small human. Still, she kept a hand near one of her daggers, just in case.

[Asyir]

And Marise heard the shout inside the tavern knowing what Chevaliers tried to do to Liselle. One of them tried to rape her. They might be brave in battle, but they sure aren't honorable men. She opened the door and unsheathed her daggers to show at least someone is willing to slay the darkspawn. I'll kill thousands of them if it means to keep those Chevaliers out. I'll slash them faster than they can hit me back. Marise shouted about the actions of both Loghain and Chevaliers alike. Even a woman can fight! But first I must go after Ser Loghain. Loghain is a coward himself and I suspect he's an Orlesian sympathizer who wants to flood Ferelden with Chevaliers and torment women all across the land! Those Chevaliers will force themselves onto anyone they damn well please. I've seen female ones who will kill any single man who refuses to have sex with them not to mention the male ones. They will rape any woman they damn well please whether she's betrothed or not. Ferelden fought valiantly for freedom from Orlais and I'll kill bandits, darkspawn, and Chevaliers alike if it means we're not under Orlesian rule.

Ser Emmittyn turned around when he heard another woman behind him. "It seems we have another Chevalier hater and hates Loghain? Good we need more of those. It's one thing we're lacking in nowadays. Well besides Darkspawn, there many of those buggers."

However when the name Loghian was mentioned, some soldiers stood up, hands at weapons. They slowly made their way towards the group. Ser Emmittyn immediately looked over at the woman who defiled Loghain and lightly slapped her. "Loghain is a hero to Ferelden! Cur!"

The soldiers appeased by such action, retired to their mead. Ser Emmittyn quickly and quietly said," See those soldiers over there? Those are Loghain's lackeys. While I admire the courage of your tongue, I do not wish for a scuffle here. I apologize for slapping you, light as it may have been. We can speak of such matters later, away from watching eyes, if you'd like. Where I can tell you the whole story. Perhaps after the bandits are taken care of."

[Sulania]

And Marise heard the shout inside the tavern knowing what Chevaliers tried to do to Liselle. One of them tried to rape her. They might be brave in battle, but they sure aren't honorable men. She opened the door and unsheathed her daggers to show at least someone is willing to slay the darkspawn. I'll kill thousands of them if it means to keep those Chevaliers out. I'll slash them faster than they can hit me back. Marise shouted about the actions of both Loghain and Chevaliers alike. Even a woman can fight! But first I must go after Ser Loghain. Loghain is a coward himself and I suspect he's an Orlesian sympathizer who wants to flood Ferelden with Chevaliers and torment women all across the land! Those Chevaliers will force themselves onto anyone they damn well please. I've seen female ones who will kill any single man who refuses to have sex with them not to mention the male ones. They will rape any woman they damn well please whether she's betrothed or not. Ferelden fought valiantly for freedom from Orlais and I'll kill bandits, darkspawn, and Chevaliers alike if it means we're not under Orlesian rule.

Ser Emmittyn turned around when he heard another woman behind him. "It seems we have another Chevalier hater and hates Loghain? Good we need more of those. It's one thing we're lacking in nowadays. Well besides Darkspawn, there many of those buggers."

However when the name Loghian was mentioned, some soldiers stood up, hands at weapons. They slowly made their way towards the group. Ser Emmittyn immediately looked over at the woman who defiled Loghain and lightly slapped her. "Loghain is a hero to Ferelden! Cur!"

The soldiers appeased by such action, retired to their mead. Ser Emmittyn quickly and quietly said," See those soldiers over there? Those are Loghain's lackeys. While I admire the courage of your tongue, I do not wish for a scuffle here. I apologize for slapping you, light as it may have been. We can speak of such matters later, away from watching eyes, if you'd like. Where I can tell you the whole story. Perhaps after the bandits are taken care of."

She noticed the man turn to the other woman, and watched as the whole event took place. While she was indifferent about the whole anti-Orlesian ideal that many Fereldens held, she didn't care for the Teyrn of Gwaren either. While he was a hero, he has done things that are questionable at best and many of the stories he weaves about the battle of Ostagar and the Wardens betrayal were obviously lies. They were at least obvious to her.

She spoke to the man quietly. "I'm Ellisia MacLeode of the Templars, assigned to the Templar Chapter overseeing the Circle of Fereldon. I was sent here to watch over the town and round up any missing Mages from the Battle of Ostagar." She then looked to the soldiers that were Loghain's lackeys, but stayed where she was. "It seems that I'm not the only one who questions Loghain." She said, pretty much whispering into the man's ear.

[The Serbian Empire]

Ah, Templars... If there wasn't a more welcome sight to see to provide order in Lothering than a Templar it had to be the Orlesian woman I have been conversing with. Orlesians don't appear in places that are too unstable outside of Orlais which to be honest is well cultured to the point bards are as common as sellswords are here in Ferelden. Then, the door opened distracting me for a few seconds as a dwarf walked in. His armor clanking as the maul would hit against it with every step. I sure like being able to wear leather armor as it doesn't clink and clank every time I make a move as it doesn't bring as much attention when I walk in as those heavily armored battlers. I wonder how he became a surface dwarf. At least no knife ears have entered the tavern yet. Those elves don't like humans too much for obvious reasons.

Now I have to ask the barkeep for some more wine. Orlesians love wine almost as much as bards, fine shoes, silk, small dogs, and nugs. Suddenly a few copper are dropped on the floor by a drunkard having too much fun.

The soldiers appeased by such action, retired to their mead. Ser Emmittyn quickly and quietly said," See those soldiers over there? Those are Loghain's lackeys. While I admire the courage of your tongue, I do not wish for a scuffle here. I apologize for slapping you, light as it may have been. We can speak of such matters later, away from watching eyes, if you'd like. Where I can tell you the whole story. Perhaps after the bandits are taken care of."

I doubt I'll penetrate their armor for enough damage. Maybe once I get a better sword as a sword and a dagger will hit harder than two daggers will then I could fight those armored foes better. I'll cut their purses while you battle with them though as I have no use for their armor as it's too noisy. Keep them busy while I cut away to get some smaller currency to pay for the bartab.

[Volvek]

Kaya wandered in to the quaint town of Lothering, only to be surrounded by people who look like they've been traveling for a while. Probably refugee's fleeing from the Darkspawn incursion. She was well informed about what was happening down south in the Wilds, but she wasn't aware that the army at Ostagar was defeated. She entered the Lothering Inn, with her pitch black clothing, and sat on a stool at the bar. She pulled down her mask so she could speak clearly and set a copper coin on the table, "Ale please." She said rather calmly and pleasantly.

The barkeep was rather busy talking to some other person so she quietly and quickly hopped over the bar and began filling up her own mug. Then before anyone noticed she just as quickly snuck out from behind the bar back to her seat. She took her coin back and took a drink of her alcoholic beverage.

[The Blazing Aura]

Kelran Galro
Lothering
She could almost see the opportunities Lothering offered before the small village itself had come into view. She'd heard of the war against the Blight when she'd left West Hills, and had heard of the defeat at Ostagar just a few days ago, when she'd come across a family of refugees fleeing from the Darkspawn. Her people had fought and died against the monsters, and now that the humans were experiencing the same, Kelran knew what was to happen, some, like the people she'd met would flee until they were 'safe' from the Darkspawn over the seas or over the mountain to Orlais. And some would fight. She'd heard of the Grey Wardens, as a dwarf how could she not of? They were the only topsiders to care about the constant battle the dwarves faced, and the only ones who truly helped them. However it wasn't the Grey Wardens that Kelran would fight with. Helping the carta, and being backstabbed by them had left her with little of the honour that she thought the Grey Wardens would use. Every trick she could use was open to her.

There were other people who'd rather flee than fight though. And it was those who Kelran was in Lothering for, not that the Grey Wardens would ever dignify the little village with their presence anyway, or so she thought, those who lived and died fighting, who wanted to make some good in the world, or had some other reason. That didn't matter to Kelran, she had her own reason, and whilst it was the one that drove her to fight the Darkspawn, there was another that led her to seek other adventurers, rather than fight like one of the Legion, and go headfirst against the Darkspawn alone. Money. She was a Smith, always had been really, and warriors and rogues and even mages needed smiths, smiths repaired things and made new weapons and armour, swords could be chipped by armour, armour could be dented by swords, and without a smith to look after both sword and armour they would both become useless, and then were would the warriors be? Fighting darkspawn with their teeth? And of course a Smith would need materials to do their work, and if she charged them an amount that cost more than the materials she'd invariably need, she'd make a profit. And provided she came out of it alive she'd have more money than the start of the venture, and that was without having to resort to lock picking or pickpocketing. She was glad that her family had had one of the Merchant Caste sell their good, it gave her good reason to talk to one and learn some, if not all, of the tricks of the trade.

And now, Lothering appeared, off of the Imperial Highway. A ramshackle village whose population had exploded with refugees, and more importantly, adventurers. Sighing as she hefted the bag that held all her extra good, and checking that her axes were still hanging at her sides Kelran climbed off the highway and started off towards the town.

[Asyir]

She noticed the man turn to the other woman, and watched as the whole event took place. While she was indifferent about the whole anti-Orlesian ideal that many Fereldens held, she didn't care for the Teyrn of Gwaren either. While he was a hero, he has done things that are questionable at best and many of the stories he weaves about the battle of Ostagar and the Wardens betrayal were obviously lies. They were at least obvious to her.

She spoke to the man quietly. "I'm Ellisia MacLeode of the Templars, assigned to the Templar Chapter overseeing the Circle of Fereldon. I was sent here to watch over the town and round up any missing Mages from the Battle of Ostagar." She then looked to the soldiers that were Loghain's lackeys, but stayed where she was. "It seems that I'm not the only one who questions Loghain." She said, pretty much whispering into the man's ear.

Ser Emmittyn cautiously looked over at the soldiers. They were still drowning themselves in mead. One soldier began groping a woman, despite her husband's pleas to stop. The look of disgust was clearly seen on Emmittyn's face. He quietly uttered," Indeed. It gladdens me to know that not all will fall for his schemes and lies. If Eamon knew of this...."

Quickly changing the topic he said to Ellisia and the other woman," Most mages from Ostagar are dead, others fled further into the wilds. The Templars are wasting their time here looking for apostates. We all should be preparing to leave this city, as the Darkspawn horde will eventually be at the gates, or what ever this town has that closely resembles as a gate. What I propose is we gather a group up, hunt these bandits down, and then precede to join this Dunstan fellow who is gathering men and women to fight the Darkspawn. He left a note on the Chanter's board calling for able bodied men and women, and we may be of use to him, at least for awhile."

[Sulania]

Ser Emmittyn cautiously looked over at the soldiers. They were still drowning themselves in mead. One soldier began groping a woman, despite her husband, who stood nearby, pleas to stop. The look of disgust was clearly seen on Emmittyn's face. He quietly uttered," Indeed. It gladdens me to know that not all will fall for his schemes and lies. If Eamon knew of this...."

Quickly changing the topic he said to Ellisia and the other woman," Most mages from Ostagar are dead, others fled further into the wilds. The Templars are wasting their time here looking for apostates. We all should be preparing to leave this city, as the Darkspawn horde will eventually be at the gates, or what ever this town has that closely resembles as a gate. What I propose is we gather a group up, hunt these bandits down, and then precede to join this Dunstan fellow who is gathering men and women to fight the Darkspawn. He left a note on the Chanter's board calling for able bodied men and women, and we may be of use to him, at least for awhile."

Ellisia thought for a moment. She has an Order to be loyal to, she can't just give up on her duties like that. Or could she? Would the Templars even matter if the Darkspawn destroy everything? No, it wouldn't. Could she just get up and leave though? Perhaps she should. Sure, she would face backlash for doing so, but the destruction of all things is a little more important than Apostates. Besides, she could do her duty while she was travelling with this group of saviors of Thedas.

She looked up at Ser Emmittyn with a certain fire in her eyes. "Well, sounds like you have a plan. And it sounds good, I'll follow you for now."

[The Serbian Empire]

Kaya wandered in to the quaint town of Lothering, only to be surrounded by people who look like they've been traveling for a while. Probably refugee's fleeing from the Darkspawn incursion. She was well informed about what was happening down south in the Wilds, but she wasn't aware that the army at Ostagar was defeated. She entered the Lothering Inn, with her pitch black clothing, and sat on a stool at the bar. She pulled down her mask so she could speak clearly and set a copper coin on the table, "Ale please." She said rather calmly and pleasantly.

The barkeep was rather busy talking to some other person so she quietly and quickly hopped over the bar and began filling up her own mug. Then before anyone noticed she just as quickly snuck out from behind the bar back to her seat. She took her coin back and took a drink of her alcoholic beverage.

A series of thoughts entered Marise's head. Who in the world could move like that? It just has to be a fellow rogue and a far more agile one than myself. It has to be a girl given the voice, but who is she. It's certainly not an Orlesian that is for sure. And I think I'll cut the coin purses of those Loghain supporters as to pay for her ale as they continue to be drunk and increasingly unaware of the increasing number of likely rogues in one room. There's this girl who moves like a cat, a small human or maybe even an elf looking around the room like a classic cutpurse, I think that Chantry redhead's still here, and myself. Sure the chantry girl won't rob them, but the others would be competition. I'm just going to do this to pay for the ale that the cat didn't pay for as to make it up for the missing ale that the barkeep would be afraid of having had stolen. Marise prepared her dagger to cut a hole large enough for the coinage to fall out in one of the Loghain supporters' coin purses.

[The Templar High Council]

Soren was running some errands for Hadren with Lena when he noticed the boisterous noise coming from Lothering's inn. Though they had already retrieved some herbs and food for the next week or so, Hadren had also asked for some ale.

"We need to get ale too. Do you want to wait out here?" Soren asked in a kind voice. He was just trying to look out for his friend, whom he had known since they were children. Though they had parted ways and had troubles through their lives, he was glad to have a constant in his life. Soren knew how humans could be here, especially when drunk. "Well be in and out quickly, so then we can head home."

[The Serbian Empire]

Ser Emmittyn cautiously looked over at the soldiers. They were still drowning themselves in mead. One soldier began groping a woman, despite her husband, who stood nearby, pleas to stop. The look of disgust was clearly seen on Emmittyn's face. He quietly uttered," Indeed. It gladdens me to know that not all will fall for his schemes and lies. If Eamon knew of this...."

Quickly changing the topic he said to Ellisia and the other woman," Most mages from Ostagar are dead, others fled further into the wilds. The Templars are wasting their time here looking for apostates. We all should be preparing to leave this city, as the Darkspawn horde will eventually be at the gates, or what ever this town has that closely resembles as a gate. What I propose is we gather a group up, hunt these bandits down, and then precede to join this Dunstan fellow who is gathering men and women to fight the Darkspawn. He left a note on the Chanter's board calling for able bodied men and women, and we may be of use to him, at least for awhile."

Ellisia thought for a moment. She has an Order to be loyal to, she can't just give up on her duties like that. Or could she? Would the Templars even matter if the Darkspawn destroy everything? No, it wouldn't. Could she just get up and leave though? Perhaps she should. Sure, she would face backlash for doing so, but the destruction of all things is a little more important than Apostates. Besides, she could do her duty while she was travelling with this group of saviors of Thedas.

She looked up at Ser Emmittyn with a certain fire in her eyes. "Well, sounds like you have a plan. And it sounds good, I'll follow you for now." She then looked to the other woman. "What say you, my friend?"

Let's go get the darkspawn. It's necessary to keep those Orlesians out as the intentions of the Chevaliers is nothing but sinister. They'd probably rape sisters of the Chantry if given the chance not to mention that they commit murder and extortion on a regular basis with no punishment for their actions. There is one condition and that is for me to steal stuff from abandoned farmsteads as to be able to sell back. I doubt darkspawn weapons are very valuable in the first place due to the taint. I doubt that darkspawn eat anything or would use weapons not made underground.

[The Ik Ka Ek Akai]

Soren was running some errands for Hadren with Lena when he noticed the boisterous noise coming from Lothering's inn. Though they had already retrieved some herbs and food for the next week or so, Hadren had also asked for some ale.

"We need to get ale too. Do you want to wait out here?" Soren asked in a kind voice. He was just trying to look out for his friend, whom he had known since they were children. Though they had parted ways and had troubles through their lives, he was glad to have a constant in his life. Soren knew how humans could be here, especially when drunk. "Well be in and out quickly, so then we can head home."

Lenavel had, but only a few months ago, been a slave to horrid bandits slowly making their way to sell her to Tevinters. The whole situation could've been much worse had her best friend, Ashanil, not been there to prevent the bandits from going too far. On that day, a few months ago, Ashanil had given her the chance to escape. Though they lost each other, they both gained back their freedom. However, Lenavel had been tired and hungry and afraid, weary to return to her clan with the slight hope that they had not moved yet. Unfortunately, they had. With nowhere to go except the nearby Lothering, she would find an old friend, Soren, there to greet her. Soren was practically her savior, giving her a place to live and giving her a new life. It seemed far beyond his duty, but he did. She was ever grateful, leading up to this moment.

She walked alongside him as he did errands for the only human she trusted, and they came across the local inn. A loud and rowdy place full of drunken humans. It was not a pleasant place for Lenavel like it was for the drunkards, but instead a dangerous place which she'd never brave alone. Then came the question, 'do you want to wait out here', though she felt it would be better to, the next line that it would be 'in and out quickly' convinced her to go along. "If it's going to be quick....I suppose I shall."

[Videssos]

Kalestos Vorenus,
Lothering

Kalestos paused, his golden-eyed gaze rapidly scanning the surrounding environs as he entered the village, forgoing the comfort of a horse in this particular endeavour, knowing the rarity of such a means of transport in Ferelden- and thus the likelihood of a thief. A breeze rustled the trees around the path leading to the village, even as it made his silky, white hair flutter in the wind. He continued to move with both a bearing and grace that subtly made it evident Kalestos wasn't just a common traveller. His dark, ornate hooded cloak beneath which he wore rather elaborate robes in the style of a Magister Lord further improved upon this, with the cloak being embroidered in gold and silver. And the robes being similarly embroidered, though also sporting partial armour in the form of red steel scale armour, and inset rubies and emeralds. At the Tevinter Mage's side was a silverite wave blade that was cold to the touch, its design evidently of Imperial origin. In his right hand- both hands of which were gloved in lyrium embroidered gloves, was a masterfully crafted Magister Lord's staff. Upon the Imperial's neck was an ancient golden torc studded with garnets the colour of dried blood. As well as the gloves, his hands were also bedecked with two rings, one adorned in dragon motifs, and of an ancient dark metal. The other was covered in Ancient Tevene, and seemed to resemble an alloy between gold and red steel. Kalestos also had a rather large luggage pack, and unless he'd used a spell to lighten the weight, it would probably have been too much for him.

These were all elements of Kalestos's appearance that both drew the eyes of many of the refugees, and likewise made some apprehensive. Doubtless, some were considering an attempt at robbing him, whilst some of those, and others, were worried at the possibility of him being a mage. He smiled faintly, continuing to move in his own pace, seemingly without haste, yet faster than a casual saunter. Advancing into the village, he decided to head towards the tavern. Chatter, music and the buzz of frantic activity even greater than that of the refugee encampments filled the air as the mysterious northern mage neared the establishment. A nearby commoner dressed in rags begged for money, and Kalestos turned his irritated gaze towards the fool. The look in those eyes, both arrogant and dangerous, startled the man, and he rapidly began to back away. There was, however, yet something else, perhaps inhuman, in those eyes. A ruthless, otherworldly cunning, combined with a certain predatory bloodthirstiness, and oddly, pride. That, was what terrified the beggar. His eyes widened, and he turned tail and fled as fast as he could.

Barbarian rabble, thought Kalestos. It was a common occurrence, when he was annoyed or angry, for others to seem oddly scared of him for some reason. It might have made more sense off the bat if they'd already known what he was capable of, and his societal status in the Imperium. Even if his family seemed to have gained some troublesome opponents in the intricate politics of the Tevinter Imperium, Kalestos knew that if it came down to it, he could easily rely upon the influence and power they had held back home. Even if his father would be targeted, it was highly unlikely he or his sister would be. Especially with how ruthless and powerful his sister had become when he'd last seen her.

Carrying on, Kalestos rapidly entered the tavern, soon coming to take in the densely packed building's interior, and all those who dwelt within. The place certainly seemed lively, and upon further inspection, seemed to be host to several Templars, among other types. Kalestos smiled. Interesting as ever. Though I would prefer them to be as obedient as the Templars back in the Imperium, they nonetheless can be entertaining, be it in their ideology, or be it in their fighting abilities. Not long after entering Ferelden, he had ended up going against a squad of Templars accusing him of being an apostate. And, of course, they'd been foolish enough to attempt to apprehend him; little knowing who they were dealing with. Certainly, things would be curious indeed...

[Asyir]

Ellisia thought for a moment. She has an Order to be loyal to, she can't just give up on her duties like that. Or could she? Would the Templars even matter if the Darkspawn destroy everything? No, it wouldn't. Could she just get up and leave though? Perhaps she should. Sure, she would face backlash for doing so, but the destruction of all things is a little more important than Apostates. Besides, she could do her duty while she was travelling with this group of saviors of Thedas.

She looked up at Ser Emmittyn with a certain fire in her eyes. "Well, sounds like you have a plan. And it sounds good, I'll follow you for now." She then looked to the other woman. "What say you, my friend?"

Let's go get the darkspawn. It's necessary to keep those Orlesians out as the intentions of the Chevaliers is nothing but sinister. They'd probably rape sisters of the Chantry if given the chance not to mention that they commit murder and extortion on a regular basis with no punishment for their actions. There is one condition and that is for me to steal stuff from abandoned farmsteads as to be able to sell back. I doubt darkspawn weapons are very valuable in the first place due to the taint. I doubt that darkspawn eat anything or would use weapons not made underground.

"Normally I wouldn't approve of looting, however seeing as how the farmers are gone, I have no qualms with this, and I will look the other way. As long as we don't kill innocents. However see to it that these 'lootings' do not distract you from your duties, and that they don't put needless dangers upon ourselves." Ser Emmittyn responded, rather grim and frankly, and in a commanding tone. He then readjusted his helmet, as he was beginning to feel it become heavy upon his head. He placed his hand on the grip of his sword and motioned for the women to follow him out off the tavern. Emmittyn approached the door, and with a loud creak, it opened Emmittyn up to the outside world. The sun shined very brightly upon Emmittyn's armor, the glare temporarily blinding some unfortunate refugees directly on the door steps of the tavern.

"This will be interesting to say the least. In all my long years, I have never traveled with a theif, let alone a Templar," Emmittyn thought, as the midday sun slowly warmed him. " I rather like this Ellisia, reminds me of my own daughter. She has that certain fire, the fire that Maric said I once had. If I can just temper that fire somehow, train her and make her disciplined to soldiering, she could be much more than a mere Templar. She would become knighted and most likely be the best damned female knight ever," His thoughts then turned on the rouge,"I trust her for now, but like all rouges, she may turn on me. I'll keep an eye on her."

Just as Emmittyn took a step out of the tavern he bumped into an elf. "Pardon me elf, I didn't see you there. Sorry to have bothered you." Emmittyn reached down to help the elf up."In my rather older years I have become rather oblivious when opening doors."

[The Serbian Empire]

Let's go get the darkspawn. It's necessary to keep those Orlesians out as the intentions of the Chevaliers is nothing but sinister. They'd probably rape sisters of the Chantry if given the chance not to mention that they commit murder and extortion on a regular basis with no punishment for their actions. There is one condition and that is for me to steal stuff from abandoned farmsteads as to be able to sell back. I doubt darkspawn weapons are very valuable in the first place due to the taint. I doubt that darkspawn eat anything or would use weapons not made underground.

"Normally I wouldn't approve of looting, however seeing as how the farmers are gone, I have qualms with this, and I will look the other way. As long as we don't kill innocents. However see to it that these 'lootings' do not distract you from your duties, and that they don't put needless dangers upon ourselves." Ser Emmittyn responded, rather grim and frankly, and in a commanding tone. He then readjusted his helmet, as he was beginning to feel it become heavy upon his head. He placed his hand on the grip of his sword and motioned for the women to follow him out off the tavern. Emmittyn approached the door, and with a loud creak, it opened Emmittyn up to the outside world. The sun shined very brightly upon Emmittyn's armor, the glare temporarily blinding some unfortunate refugees directly on the door steps of the tavern.

"This will be interesting to say the least. In all my long years, I have never traveled with a theif, let alone a Templar," Emmittyn thought, as the midday sun slowly warmed him. " I rather like this Ellisia, reminds me of my own daughter. She has that certain fire, the fire that Maric said I once had. If I can just temper that fire somehow, train her and make her disciplined to soldiering, she could be much more than a mere Templar. She would become knighted and most likely be the best damned female knight ever," His thoughts then turned on the rouge,"I trust her for now, but like all rouges, she may turn on me. I'll keep an eye on her."

Just as Emmittyn took a step out of the tavern he bumped into an elf. "Pardon me elf, I didn't see you there. Sorry to have bothered you." Emmittyn reached down to help the elf up."In my rather older years I have become rather oblivious when opening doors."

I've got a couple rules for my looting as to not get in danger. I'm not going out of my way more than 50 paces to loot. And I refuse to kill innocents as it would make me no better than those Chevaliers that I despise so much. That's pretty much my strategy when it comes to this. Take what valuables that can easily be stored in my pockets or coin purse and nothing too large as it would slow me down as agility and speed are a rogue's assets. Looting corpses killed by the Darkspawn is acceptable to me as well. Especially if their weapons are superior to mine or any valuables worth more than 10 silvers unless they're wanted back on some mission for the Chantry board which will likely pay more than selling the loot.

Indeed, I've never been with a Templar myself. It's going to be an interesting time going to face the darkspawn. I'll outmaneuver them rather easily to say the least, but I sacrificed both armor and offensive power to outrun and outmaneuver them though. Still wonder when we'll see our first apostate mage. I heard Templars have had hunts for apostates for hundreds of years. Now that might be an interesting sight to say the least.

[Communist Androids]

Adethiel Idras
Lothering
The elf girl watched as people entered and left the tavern, ever vigilant in her search for a good mark. She made note of the soldiers in the tavern, likely didn't have a lot of coin on them, and they weren't alone. There was another group that just left, but they were a group, and an armed one at that. Most of the other residents of the inn either looked like they hadn't a coin to their name, or were geared well enough to dissuade Adeth from wanting to rob them.

And then the best mark of the night waltzed in. His clothes, his staff, just the way the man walked indicated him as being well above the rabble here. The staff was a bit off putting, Adethiel wasn't well educated on magic but she knew what staves were used for. Still, no amount of magic would save you someone put a knife in your skull. If shems weren't so distrusting she could probably live for the rest of her life off the man's equipment if she sold it. As it was, she could probably still do rather well off his coin purse.

Still, something about the man was off putting. Adeth had spent years robbing and mugging. Nobles and rich humans didn't travel alone. They'd usually have guards, people to do the fighting for them. A less experience criminal might take the lack of guards as a sign from the Maker that they should rob this person blind. Not her, though. Either he was unbelievably arrogant and stupid, or there was more to this man then meets the eye. Assuming the first was a good way to die. Her mind made up, the elf decided she may just need to watch this man a bit more, unless an easier mark showed up. So, face still concealed by her hood, she watched, and she waited.

[The Templar High Council]

Soren was running some errands for Hadren with Lena when he noticed the boisterous noise coming from Lothering's inn. Though they had already retrieved some herbs and food for the next week or so, Hadren had also asked for some ale.

"We need to get ale too. Do you want to wait out here?" Soren asked in a kind voice. He was just trying to look out for his friend, whom he had known since they were children. Though they had parted ways and had troubles through their lives, he was glad to have a constant in his life. Soren knew how humans could be here, especially when drunk. "Well be in and out quickly, so then we can head home."

Lenavel had, but only a few months ago, been a slave to horrid bandits slowly making their way to sell her to Tevinters. The whole situation could've been much worse had her best friend, Ashanil, not been there to prevent the bandits from going too far. On that day, a few months ago, Ashanil had given her the chance to escape. Though they lost each other, they both gained back their freedom. However, Lenavel had been tired and hungry and afraid, weary to return to her clan with the slight hope that they had not moved yet. Unfortunately, they had. With nowhere to go except the nearby Lothering, she would find an old friend, Soren, there to greet her. Soren was practically her savior, giving her a place to live and giving her a new life. It seemed far beyond his duty, but he did. She was ever grateful, leading up to this moment.

She walked alongside him as he did errands for the only human she trusted, and they came across the local inn. A loud and rowdy place full of drunken humans. It was not a pleasant place for Lenavel like it was for the drunkards, but instead a dangerous place which she'd never brave alone. Then came the question, 'do you want to wait out here', though she felt it would be better to, the next line that it would be 'in and out quickly' convinced her to go along. "If it's going to be quick....I suppose I shall."

"Alright. Keep your ears covered as best you can. It won't take long." Soren drew his hood and approached the door, only to be knocked back by some human who was leaving. At least he had the courtesy to apologize.

"It's fine. I'm alright." Soren said as he accepted the helping hand. He just noticed he was called an elf, and pulled his hood back over his head. He squeezed past the man to enter the bar, and saw a scene that would have made him crazy if he had just arrived from his clan. He pushed through the crowd to the bar, and drew a silver from his coin purse. "I need as much ale as this can get me. For my friend." The bartender huffed in agreeance and left to order someone in the back to get a barrel for Soren. They knew Hadren, and that he loved to drink, so it wasn't as big of a deal as it was the first time Soren came to the tavern. He leaned against the bar and waited, nervously tapping his foot and looking about the crowd. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he whispered to Lena.