faderift | Open log for Drakonis

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Open log for Drakonis

WHO: Carver, a griffon, and you
WHAT: Someone's bonded with a griffon now. Shenanigans ensue
WHEN: Throughout the first week-ish of Drakonis/March
WHERE: The griffons' roost and throughout Kirkwall
NOTES: If you ever wanted to see Carver in an actual good mood, now's your chance.

A) First Flight

Carver trudges up to the griffons' roost, sausages in tow for Ghostface. The past two months sucked, and he's back up here again to clear his head. Ghostface devours the sausages post-haste, squawking in between mouthfuls as Carver rubs his head. He smiles and gives scratches to the others that came up to inspect him, but Ghostface seems intent on monopolizing his attention, rubbing his head against his chest and making a sound between a purr and a coo. There's something different about him at the moment, and Carver's not sure what.

"What? Wanting company tonight?" As he keeps scratching little Ghost's head, a strange feeling settles over him. There's definitely a change, something that wasn't there before. Absently he keeps petting the griffon, trying to wrestle with the change he feels.

But Ghostface steps away, hopping over to the ledge that let them fly out from their roost. He turns back and squawks at Carver.

"Then fly. I'm not going to stop you."

Ghost squawks again, more impatiently, and flaps his wings.

It occurs to him then, what might be going on. Kain mentioned this to him but a few weeks ago. Is this...? Carver walks up to him, glancing out into the darkening Kirkwall sky before looking back at Ghost. "You sure?"

A gentle headbutt and an insistent noise is Carver's answer.

Who's he to argue with a griffon? There's no harness or anything on Ghost - Carver doesn't even know how to put one on - but that can be sorted out later. He carefully climbs onto Ghost's back, a little unsure but determined as he holds onto his fur. Hardly the safest set up, but he supposes if he's going to die, at least it was while riding a griffon, and that's not the worst way to go. "All right, Ghost. Let's go."

It's unsteady, being on Ghost's back as the griffon readies to take off. He almost closes his eyes out of instinct, but refuses. He's not gonna miss this.

With a flap of his wings, Ghostface takes off. Carver - to his chagrin - bites back a scream as his stomach plummets with the drop. He's hanging on for dear life. But as Ghost straightens out and soars out into the night air, the initial burst of fear turns into excitement, and Carver starts laughing and hollering. He's flying above Kirkwall, on a griffon. A bloody griffon. This is real, not a passing fancy dreamed up by a child. And if Ghost decided to let him do this, then that means they're bonded, according to Kain.

Yeah, you know what? He's not gonna feel self-conscious about the ruckus he's kicking up while flying. This happens once in a life time, and used to be impossible. For once, he's going to indulge himself for a bit. It's exhilarating to be able to fly around, looking down at the ground below and seeing the city from above. It's a lot smaller from up there.

...it's also a lot colder from up there, and Carver didn't dress for the occasion. As much as he wants to stay up there, eventually his shivering gets the better of him. "W - We gotta get back." Ghost immediately descends, making for the tower. The shivering lets up, and Carver almost tells Ghost to keep flying and just stay low, but perhaps it's best to stop for now.

The pair re-enter the roost, Carver laughing a bit as the adrenaline dies down. "Wow." He hops off Ghost, and his knees immediately buckle. He catches himself, helped up by Ghost. "Thanks. So you and me, huh? Not a bad start." And he grins then, ruffling Ghost's feathers as the griffons squawks, rubbing his head on Carver. It's the start of a beautiful partnership.

B) This is how bad pornos start

Of course the two of them are going to fly around. Carver needs to learn how to direct a griffon in the air, and Ghost needs to learn how to carry a Warden on his back without accidentally tossing him off.

And of course, this doesn't come without mishaps. One in particular that winds up with Ghost taking too sharp a left turn and accidentally tipping Carver off. There's a yell, and Carver's falling. Ghost dives hard, managing to somewhat catch Carver. Yeah, somewhat. It's mostly just Carver grabbing hold of him and slowing his fall. His grip slips and he falls again. Luckily, thanks to Ghosts's earlier dive, the fall's not serious enough to seriously harm him. But it does do a number on a roof. The Blooming Rose's roof, as it so happens.

Ghost squawks in worry, looking down the Carver-sized hole in the roof. Minutes pass, but Carver doesn't emerge. Who wants to brave the Rose to see what became of the poor Warden?

C) Put a feather in his cap and ... wait when did that feather get there??

Maker he's tired. But the extra time spent up in the tower makes it all worth it. It means some late nights, which is why he's trudging back to Hightown well after the sun has gone down. He's got two bags of food, some for him and some for Ghost. He keeps a slower pace than normal, though that doesn't mean he's not vigilant. Just tired. And... a mess.

He's got at least two downy feathers in his hair, a piece of sausage hanging on his coat, and there's a suspicious looking smear across his back. He's oblivious to this though, which goes to show just how much he probably needs a nap right now.

D) Wildcard

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Feeling more like herself than she has in a while, Inessa's celebrating that fact with some much-needed bonding time. In order to make up for the past few weeks, she's spending as much time as she can in the rookery...and then in the air above Kirkwall, atop her excitable griffon. Potato screeches happily and loops around, eager to show off and delighted to be in the air with one of her bonded people once more.

Though mostly wrapped up in ensuring her mount is sufficiently content before daring to return, Inessa does spot another griffon airborne. Is that...Ghostface, with a rider? Inessa would nudge Potato over to check, but by this point in time they've been out for a while, and she can see that even her enthusiastic griffon is tiring. So, she'll urge her to descend, holding on until Potato touches down.

By the time Ghostface and Carver return, Inessa is grooming a very content Potato sprawled out beside her. The light grey griffon opens her eyes as the sound of flapping wings alert them both, and she perks up a little. Likewise, Inessa turns around and smiles once she has a clear view of Ghostface's rider.

"Welcome to our club, fellow griffon-rider."

Both Warden and griffon jump a bit, not having realized they weren't alone. Ghost takes it a bit more in stride, immediately chirping in greeting to his sister and her rider. Carver huffs out a breath and nods to Inessa, straightening out.

"It's a wild initiation process," he muses as he walks over, Ghost following him.

Potato chirps back, then prods Inessa gently -gently, for a griffon- with her beak to continue the grooming. Not about to have Potato get on her case, her elven companion resumes while speaking. "The griffon always knows when it's ready...and when you're ready, as well. Once they've decided, they don't wait.

It's exciting, isn't it? It's incredible to realize that no one's had that experience in hundreds of years...except us, now." There's a content, bordering on smug, noise from Potato that Inessa likes to think is her griffon's way of saying 'you're welcome'.

"Then it was all waiting on Ghost. I've been ready for an age now."

Ghost takes a bit of offense at that, squawking indignantly and nudging Carver's shoulder with his head.

"What? It's the truth." All the same, Carver pets his head to mollify the griffon. He turns back to Inessa. "Hopefully we'll be the first of many more Wardens to come. It's all exciting, but less so if we wind up being the last."

Potato chirps in what might possibly be amusement at her sibling's response. But she settles as Inessa strokes her, likewise amused but in Carver's direction. "Watch out, next time it might be a beak. I assume you enjoy having your fingers where they are, yes?"

Her expression grows a bit more serious as she contemplates the rest, nodding. "We still have griffons who need riders, though finding other clutches is a necessity if this is to be a true resurgence for the species. I'm aware the senior Wardens have more urgent priorities, but our griffons should not be forgotten."

Carver lifts his hand, wiggling it inside the thick glove it's in. "I learned my lesson some time ago. Not a perfect safeguard, but they're thick enough to protect me from most of the nipping."

For now, he's more concerned about future clutches then getting riders for all of them. There are plenty of Wardens out there. Not so much the case with the griffons. "No, they shouldn't be. They can't be. If the most senior among us don't have time, then the rest of us do."

Inessa should counter with how she's leading a project and really can't take on any more...except she never knows when to stop. Too many issues of importance remain and she can't ignore any of them. Besides, she is a Griffon Keeper, how can she not look into this?

"I think our friends here would enjoy learning that they aren't alone. Were we able to get all the necessary information regarding the finding of this clutch out of Weisshaupt? Because I doubt we'll be invited back any time soon."

Carver shrugs at her question. "Wrong Warden to ask. I wasn't there when all that went down. I was in the Deep Roads." In some ways he's glad he missed it, though he loathes the thought of not having been there with Beth.

"Right, of course. I'll ask them later, after Potato is satisfied with the attention she's received--" She looks back just in time to see Potato try to settle in her lap...which of course, is not quite possible given how big she's become. "Hey, now, none of that! I told you before, you're too heavy for me. Here, rest your head, not your entire body."

She throws a despairing look to Carver. This is the nonsense you've signed up for, fellow rider.

Carver snorts, watching Potato try to crawl into Inessa's lap. They really are like dogs in that regard. Big dogs with no awareness of their size. His shoulders shake in muted laughter.

Ghostface flops onto the floor, still a bit tuckered out. Carver kneels down and softly pets his neck. "Reminds me of Dog. He used to try and crawl onto laps. When he was a pup it was fine, but once he got full grown... and, well, trying to shove a war hound off of you isn't an easy feat."

Sighing at Potato -finally!- situates herself properly, she strokes her griffon's head gently. "Garahel only stopped doing that when he realized I genuinely could breathe with his bulk against me. Now, he's much more considerate...most of the time. Every so often, those pup memories return and take over.

Potato, now, she's always been this way...and I fear, might always will."

"Tell that to Dog. Though he's a bit too old to go climbing into laps as much these days." Poor old thing. Maybe once they found Marian some of the life would fire back up in him.

Carver eyes Ghost, who looks positively innocent. For the moment. "Don't you even think about it," he mutters as Ghost looks at his sister. "Head in lap only."

A protesting squawk!

"Yes, you're smaller but you're still too damned big for my lap."

A much more sullen squawk.

Inessa chuckles at poor Ghost, stroking Potato so that she remains appeased. "Sorry, Ghost. You're quite lovely, if that's any consolation." Potato perks up and chirps, prompting more petting. "Yes, you are too. So vain, tsk."

Her smile takes on a melancholy tinge at mention of the old mabari. "I would still gladly give Dog all due attention, should I see him. If he enjoys canine company, Garahel is always willing to visit."

Luckily Ghost doesn't quite have his sister's streak of vanity. Still, he takes the compliment with a chirp and a swish of his tail, before giving his rider a slight stink eye. Carver gives him one right back.

They're off to a cracking start.

"Actually, he might do good with the company. Not himself so much without Marian around, so maybe Garahel can remind him of his younger days." Old codger could do with some playing.

"We don't often visit Hightown past the market, but I think we could manage a visit for his sake. Garahel knows to be gentle, I promise." There might be some roughhousing if the older mabari is up for it, but Garahel will be considerate of his limitations. She knows to trust him with that.

Poor Carver. Skadi is by the entrance of the stables in the late afternoon, about to head in further when she catches sight of a certain Grey Warden angling in her general direction. The slow pace, bags and the feathers all get her attention, and she quirks an eyebrow. Interesting behavior, and it's enough to have her step out just to have a better look.

Catching up to him, she picks off that piece of sausage from his coat and smirks. "Saving some for later, hm? I didn't think you were into that habit...or hair decorations, for that matter." And then she reaches up and plucks a downy feather, turning it around with her fingers.

He starts and turns when he feels fingers on his shirt. His initial reaction is that he's being pickpocketed. Then he sees it's Skadi, holding a... sausage bit?

Oh.

"It was from-" And now she's reaching up and picking out a feather from his hair. Great, that means he's been walking around like this. That would explain a few stares. "I'm becoming one with the griffons, apparently."

Not really needing a griffon's leftovers, Skadi flicks the sausage bit to the ground a short distance away. Let the pigeons fight over it. She grins, unsurprised but definitely intrigued.

"Those griffons sound picky, but it must be worth the wait, to ride one. I guess I can see why it'd have your head spinning, to the point where you'd not notice their leavings. Which one's bonded with you, then?"

"Depends on the griffon. This one in particular loves his sausages, though they'll eat most anything. Including buttons, straps, coins..." The little shits. He always has to dress plainly and out of armor when he goes up, and wear thick gloves. Though he'll still wind up getting pecked.

"Ghostface. Littlest one." And the whitest, but it doesn't matter. He's the best out of all of them and no one can convince Carver otherwise. "Damn well was worth the wait. There's nothing like flying up there with them. Even the best sex I ever had doesn't quite compare." So either flying's the most amazing thing ever, or he hasn't had the best sex out there.

Skadi can't help but smirk a bit at that, crossing her arms. "Is that a challenge, then? Or an invitation to see for myself how it is to soar? Kodlak would be a mite offended if I took another mount, I think." Though her tone remains curious; the idea is intriguing, if mostly for the novelty of it all.

"Why not both? You should be allowed to compare, too." And he's smirking right back. If nothing else, Carver's not the type to back down from flirting (anymore). "Just a hitch a ride with one of us sometime."

She lifts an eyebrow at that, dropping the teasing for a moment. "They'd allow that? Someone not bonded riding them, even if you're around?"

"I don't know if they'd allow it without their rider as well, but griffons are said to be able to carry two. You could fly with me sometime, if you want." Though until he and Ghost get the hang of flying with each other, he'd rather not attempt to let Skadi fly alone, provided Ghost allows it.

That provokes a bright smile and she nods. "Aye, absolutely. It'd be a first, and I bet that view makes it all worthwhile. That I can't resist the chance to make my twin a little jealous." Much as she loves Freya, sibling rivalry sometimes surfaces and this is one of those times. Freya has magic, but she's never ridden a damn griffon before.

"It definitely does. And the way it makes your stomach drop when you swoop down." Where's Alistair for the beaten-to-death swooping is bad joke? "What, you have a twin, too?" Well that's not something he comes across every day.

"Aye, a sister." She hesitates a moment, but...it's just Carver, he's not going to run off and tell the Templars. "She's the augur's apprentice, learning how to best serve the hold and its gods. I became a spirit warrior to understand the bond she has with the Land of Dreams, in some small way."

She's talking to the guy who lived with three apostates growing up. For all that he had a lot of resentment of how he spent his childhood, he's the last person to go running to the templars. "Right. The Avvar commune with the spirits and demons. Your gods." He tilts his head. "So the augur's the equivalent of a Chantry priest?"

Skadi snorts in amusement at that. "I wonder who'd be more offended by the comparison, the Chantry clergy or the Augurs? But in a very rough way, aye. If our people offend the gods, the augur will intercede, tell them how to make it right. They also interpret the signs the gods leave for them, for the betterment of the hold."

"In a war of being offended, the Chantry always wins." It wins a lot of other wars, too, but let's not touch that icky topic. "What sort of 'signs' do they interpret, exactly?"

"What the natural world gives them, of course. The gods live in all things. Wind from an unexpected direction, birds flying in unusual patterns, a sudden silence amidst the high peaks in the spring, and so on. These are nothing but chance to a lowlander, but are messages from the gods to an Avvar. An augur pays attention, and learns how to interpret them. Thus we all benefit." Skadi shrugs, as used to that way of life as the average Kirkwaller is to hearing the Chant of Light.

"Nature's not always predictable. Couldn't some of that just be explained by a change in a predator's hunting pattern, or spring starting early?"

Skadi raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "And you think the gods have no hand in that change? As I said, we believe they live in all things. They act as they will, and those changes are detrimental to us, we know they have withdrawn their favor. A wise hold never lets that stand for long, doing what is called upon us to regain it.

At any rate, it's more responsive than a Maker that's turned his back on everyone."

She'd heard through the guards about a maniac flying around on a griffon above Kirkwall, but she assumed it was just idle talk. But, she now was staring at a very real, very concerned griffon ask it squawked while looking down inside a ruined roof. She was stunned for a few moments, watching the creature that was supposed to be long extinct. She shook herself out of that shock, and then moved inside the Rose to see if the rider had been injured.

It definitely wasn't the first time she had been there, although it had never been to...take care of herself, as it were. She liked to make sure that the men and women working there were taken care of, and the guard was often called if a patron got out of control, so she was fairly familiar with it's layout. She definitely wasn't comfortable with all of the goings on, but she wasn't a squeamish maid. She kept her eyes down as she ran upstairs, trying to judge what room had been landed in. Luckily the squawking helped narrow that down pretty well. She opened the door she hoped lead to the fallen rider.

Something about her felt safe, so Ghost squawks louder, hoping that she's going inside to help his partner. As she ducks into the building, he returns to the hole and screeches at Carver, trying to communicate that someone's coming to (hopefully) help.

Carver's a little busy at the moment, however, dealing with the prostitute he almost landed on and owner of the Rose giving him a hard time. Granted, they have a hole in their roof and Carver gets why they're mad, but...

"I'll bloody pay for it! I've got some coin on me now, and once you have it repaired I'll compensate."

He gets the stink eye from the owner. "And you'll run out of town before I can."

"Oh for-" He jabs a finger towards the hole, where Ghost is. "I've got him to care for! And I'm with the Wardens, and we're not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Bah. You can just fly off with that squawking thing-"

"It's a griffon-"

"-and how am I to find you anyway? I ain't taking you on your word."

The prostitute looks him over. "Maybe he can work for it. Tall, all muscle. You'd know how much someone'd pay for him for a night?"

"Good point. And we'd take his earnings until the roof's fixed."

Carver nearly sputters. "Wh - I am NOT becoming a whore!"

Aveline, help?

To say that this moment would go down as one of her favorites was an understatement. She leaned against the door frame as she watched the interaction, stifling laughter at first. But, once things progressed farther she decided to intervene for Carver's sake. She pushed off the doorway, and walked farther into the room.

"What about my word, hmm? I'm pretty sure you know I'm good for it. I'll try to have someone round to fix it in a few hours."

She rested a hand on one of Carver's massive shoulders, and then shot the owner a look.

"And, I'm not very keen on forcing anyone into selling themselves. The fact it came up as an option leaves a little bit of a bad taste in mouth, if I'm honest. Perhaps I should have some words with your staff. Make sure no one else has been treated similarly."

Strictly, Myr's not supposed to be in Hightown right now, but one of the stairway guards had a soft spot for devout Andrastians who wanted to visit the Grove, whatever the shape of their ears. And strictly, his path back to Lowtown shouldn't've taken him past the Rose--but he'd gotten lost enough in melancholy thought to miss a turning and find himself outside Kirkwall's finest recreational establishment, and now here he is, frowning in the direction of the griffon squawks coming from the roof. He knows all their voices well enough by now to recognize Ghostface, but what's he doing out of the roost and in such distress...?

Time to investigate.

"What's happened, Ghost?" he calls up to the agitated raptor--much to the bemusement of the other puzzled passersby on the street. "Is it something with Warden H--Carver?"

Invoking the Champion's relatives doesn't seem like the best idea when they're tied to a civic disturbance involving a half-ton predator. Nor is...asking a griffon questions, honestly, and Myr laughs quietly at himself to realize that. Better to go find out what might be found out on his own, triangulating on the building Ghost's perched on and heading for the door. He has, quite literally, no idea what he's about to get into; such is his concern that he doesn't balk at the--redolence--of the establishment, nor the minor chaos in the wake of Aveline's appearance. (Something he unwittingly takes advantage of as he heads for the stairs--)

"Hey! You can't go up there without having paid for company!" Business in the Rose doesn't stop just because someone's fallen through the roof and the owner's off to see about it, and Madam Lusine's temporary replacement looks none too pleased about a mage--an elf mage, in robes that shout foreigner--trying to sneak in under her nose.

Company? ...Oh. Uhm. Myr freezes for a split second, mind reeling briefly with the realization of just what sort of establishment he's walked into (and which it must be, given Hightown) before his stubborn bravado reasserts itself. "Inquisition business," he says, with all the confidence he can muster, and flashes his insignia in ... roughly ... the right direction. "That's one of our beasts on the roof and I'm here to make sure he's not come to grief."

Having said as much he promptly starts edging in the direction of all the noise, which...will get him to the stairs...eventually...

Ghost's relieved to see a familiar face. This is a person that likes to come visit and spend time with them. Always a good in the mind of a griffon. He squawks, glad to see Myr but still agitated, almost more so with the argument brewing inside. Though he can't tell Myr as much, the elf finally seems to get it and just heads inside.

Meanwhile, Carver currently hates his life and everything in it. Aveline is both the worst and best person to have shown up in this exact moment. At least neither of his sisters are here. That would just seal the deal and make him toss himself out the window, quite honestly.

The owner quickly backpedals. "Now now, no one's being forced. Girl here just brought it up as an option." She squints at Aveline. "Last I heard, you weren't guard captain no more. You don't have the pull you once used to, then. And how're you going to come up with the coin to pay the roofer? Sure as shit ain't going to do it for free."

Carver pinches the bridge of his nose. Maker help him. "Aveline, it's fine. I'll handle this."

Ghost squawks again, peering down below.

"Shut that beast up!" the owner snaps. "He's been carrying on this whole time! Get it off my bloody roof before it goes more damage, or I'm going to-"

"Don't even finish that threat." Carver's gone from embarrassed to scarily angry in about the span of two heartbeats. "Touch a single feather on Ghost and I'll toss you out of that hole."

Way to handle it, Carver.

Kain is on the way to the griffon roost when he spots one of them in the air. He gives them a passing glance, because these days it's just a normal casual thing to see griffons overhead, of course... But then he pauses, doing a double-take. Does that griffon have a rider? There are others bonded, of course, but instinctively something seems different. He can't tell well enough from this far away... he thinks it's Ghostface, though, since he's got a pretty good sense for the differences in how they fly. That griffon definitely isn't bonded to anyone...

Yet.

Hurrying along to get inside, Kain is thoroughly curious to see the griffon and rider. Sure enough, as Carver comes in, Kain is pleased to see him aboard Ghostface. He can't help but smile a little, for once.

"Well done. I was wondering when this day would finally come. How does it feel?"

Carver looks up, still a bit out of breath. It seems fitting for Kain to be the one to greet Carver after his first slight with Ghostface, given that he's the one who seemed to believe it would happen.

"A lot of things. Exhilarating, mostly. And surreal."

Ghostface squawks in greeting to Kain before nudging Carver, wanting... well, something. Probably pets. Which Carver obliges.

"Hello to you as well, Ghostface. Congratulations." He's as respectful as he is to all griffons, but also feels a bit of pride too. He loves seeing them form these bonds. "There's nothing quite like that first flight... but even after you get used to it, it's still incredible. We're like the legendary Wardens of old, up there, and it's especially exciting for anyone who enjoys heights." He personally loves them, of course, and for him it's all a dream come true. "You'll have to start training together, of course."

There's an impatient squawk, and Potato comes into view, coming over to nuzzle Kain. Someone seems to be in need of attention, which Kain is quick to give, petting her eagerly. "Don't worry, I've not forgotten you. I was just congratulating the newest team of our griffon riding crew."

There's a little trill of pride from Ghost, and he sits a pretty little sit. Griffon equivalent of boasting. Or at least, Ghost's version of it. It makes Carver laugh, a rare sound from the man. "You're ridiculous," he says, scratching his head.

"Hello Potato," he greets in turn before looking back at Kain. "Certainly makes our insignia worth something again," he comments. "It's been a few hundred years in the making. Best to make it count."

Kain can’t help but smirk in amusement as he sees that prideful pose from Ghost. Such noble creatures… but also rather silly in their way. The legends left out all the bits about how entertaining they can be as companions.

Potato is doing her typical nuzzling, trying to cozy up even more with Kain… as in, get in his lap, she never gives up… but he manages to distract her with lots of scratches in her favorite spots around her head. She makes contented sounds, noises that Kain has come to know very well.

“We certainly should make the most of it. I know the Wardens haven’t always had the best reputation, lately, but… I truly believe that this new age of griffons can change that. They’ve restored a certain sense of honor to our order.” That sort of thing is immensely important to Kain, after all.

Legends often leave out the more entertaining details. A shame, too. It'd probably make them a lot more interesting.

Carver likes the sound of that. The Order looking forward and trying to rebuild itself, rather than looking back and glorifying what was. Kind of ironic they're using the griffons to do it, the creatures once considered a relic of bygone Ages. But they're not anymore. They're here now and they're real.

"Something good from the mess the higher ups have made of the order lately." A little bright spot. Now they just need to survive, and find a way for the griffons to thrive. "Not going to do much good so long as the First Warden's still running amok, doing as he pleases. Something needs to be done to get him reined in and put the order back together."

After some casual petting, Kain looks over Potato like a thoughtful parent, helping in her grooming by brushing off the loose feathers. She doesn't have too many, though, so undoubtedly Inessa has already been with her recently, as well. He looks to Carver, nodding.

"That whole situation does need to be settled, doesn't it? We can't redeem our order unless we move past the mistakes of the past, and we can't do that... unless somehow, we get better leadership in place. Whether it's him or another, we must do something."

"Given that he thought staging a coup in the bloody Anderfels was a good idea, I wouldn't put my coin on trusting him to lead us." Carver finally takes a seat on the floor. His back feels stiff from the riding. Ghost takes the opportunity to flop on the floor next to him, staying off his lap.

"But that means replacing him. And we've only got so many senior Wardens." Technically, Carver counts among the seniors, given that he's been with the Wardens a decade over. However, he's not in a leadership position and he's mostly okay with that.

Kain is pleased at the sight of them like that, they're going to do so well together. He continues carefully grooming Potato, who happily extends her wings for him to look over.

"Right, but with who? I'm not saying we don't have capable leadership… it just has to be someone who can turn this order around, and… restore that reputation. It'll be a hard task for anyone. But the sooner that can happen, the better." He wonders how they'll even manage to get rid of the current one… it'll undoubtedly require bloodshed at some point.

"Capable, but not willing. Alistair would likely toss himself out a window then take on that position. I don't see Nathaniel or Loghain being keen on it either." Could any of them do it? He supposes yes, they're not incompetent. But running a small band of Wardens here is one thing; running the whole Order involves something else entirely. Not to mention, who wants to be stuck up in the Anderfels?

"How true... and unfortunate, I could see Alistair doing well, given the chance." But no, he really wouldn't want it, and Kain wouldn't wish such a thing on the unwilling. Restoring the Wardens' reputation won't be an easy task, at all. He sighs a little, now offering Potato a small bit of meat as a treat. "Maybe there's someone else out there, elsewhere... if so, the time to step up is now."

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Open log for Drakonis

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no subject

B

no subject

no subject

lmk if this needs more to it!! aaaa sorry this took so long

no worries!

A

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject