[closed-ish] Building Bridges

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren, Barty, Brienne, Val, anyone else who might like to join
WHAT: meeting with the Legion of the Dead to see where that dang ol Architect done gone off to
WHEN: sometime in Solace idk
WHERE: The Deep Roads
NOTES: warning for dwarf bullshit

Does anyone actually like the Deep Roads? An awful sunless pit filled with creepy crawlies and Darkspawn, and, worst of all, dwarf politics, and yet it is here that the Wardens are destined to spend their final days.
Teren nonetheless has been in decent spirits since beginning their descent, perhaps because, unlike the last time she was here, she has all her weapons and isn't half-naked and surrounded by mewling incompetents.

Well, there's the Orlesian, but three out of four ain't bad.

"Ever dealt with Legion of the Dead?" she asks Barty, hoping he'll say yes and take point in talking to them. She always feels strange interacting with dwarves-- they're just so...

...short.

Comments

Open (or at least audible)

[gentlecountry]

"Once're twice, when I were in training," He replies easily, as unconcerned by the stone closed in over their heads as if he had been strolling along on a fine summer's eve. More, actually; Barty was born underground, and never lost his stone-sense. As they had gone down, he had actually seemed to find his stride, "Grim sorts, in a kinds of ah, a reckless fun-loving party atmosphere-likes way."

He feels as if this accurately sums up the attitude of a dedicated legion of sinners all merrily trying to get themselves killed for however long it takes. Honorable death it might be, and a necessary sacrifice for the good of underground society, but as a form of suicide, the Legion lacks a great deal in the realm of efficiency.

"Nots that theys tends to makes many friends, such as it is. But as a matter of facts it's better to be knowns by 'em than otherwise; I finds their reputations for ferocity is ah... apt. You?"

[degenere]

"Their title is so very dramatic," Val puts in from behind the dwarf. His opinion might have been officially unsolicited, but only because the conversation had not turned to him yet. It would have, eventually. Better to skip to that part so he can join in the conversation.

If he's at all bothered by the awful sunless pit that is the Deep Roads, one would never be able to guess. He shuts his sketchbook with a snap, and tucks away the pencil that he had been using while making notes on their surroundings. This, as he has told his traveling companions, is an opportunity, and a rare one at that. Val de Foncé will make great use of it.

He is outfitted for adventure, which means that his clothes manage to look well-worn and sturdy and expensive all at once, and his hair is elegantly tousled, despite there being no underground wind to tousle it, and he is shining in the very pink of good health and spirits, ready for whatever might be around the corner. He has his crossbow, and a pack of supplies, and little vials for taking samples of things, and Freddie's blessing to go out and look for dwarvish things that he can bring back to her, either in whole or in the telling of a tale.

"The Legion of the Dead. We had a group of fellows that went by something similarly striking, at the University, but they were a laughable bunch. The League of Tragedy. Tragic, but not in the way that they meant. That is not to say that this legion is so to be ridiculed, of course--by all reports, they are anything but. Did they name themselves, do you think, or was this name given to them by us? An interesting question."

[doneisdone]

Teren is already exhausted by Val, but trying not to show it for the sake of keeping peace. Barty exhausts her too, but to a lesser extent, because he is not always in her range of vision.

"Named themselves," she says, "pretty sure. They're considered dead already, given proper funerals before they join up. Seems as apt a thing to call your legion as anything else, if dead's what you are."

[servility]

For the most part, Brienne has made this journey in silence. Not brooding or unfriendly silence, but the silence of one who stands to gain more from keeping her mouth shut than from opening it. But that which she seeks to gain is no more than a truer understanding of what it is that they're facing. She's been standing guard and walking patrols for over a month now and there's such occupational overhead that the information she receives is largely localized, never quite enough to satisfy her. Enough to feel like she knows why she's even doing this.

Already, her choice to accompany them to the Deep Roads has been incredibly lucrative on that front. She's seen an entirely new facet of Thedas, the scattered thaigs (a new word, as well) of the architecturally-brilliant dwarven culture. Hell, she's traveling with a dwarf as well, the first that she's made any direct acquaintance with beyond dealings at shops. And judging by her thick leather armor, the sword at her waist, and the wary eye she casts down each side passage, she's more than prepared to meet her first darkspawn as well.

Her silence is probably for the better. To Teren, Val may be 'the Orlesian', but to Brienne he's 'that man she can't seem to get rid of'. And he's talking about his bloody university again, how shocking.

"And they're tasked to fight these darkspawn? Or have they more duties than that?" She chimes in from the rear of the pack, a question that likely isn't much of a surprise - she did warn them upon departure that she's fairly new and will be defaulting to the rest of the party for cues on how to proceed, but she'll certainly make up for it should her sword be needed.

[gentlecountry]

Barty couldn't help the stormcloud crossing his face when Val finished. Us, he mouthed, at the air in front of him, very glad to be taking the lead where no one but Teren could see. Who the sod was us between a half-idiot nobleman's son and a dwarf of the Grey Wardens?

"Legion of the Dead's the army of the King," Barty replies, without looking up nor back at Brienne. The walls are stone enough to carry his voice to her, and after all, he has a lot longer than most to look, if he's going to meet her eye. No point in dropping vigilance now, of all times and places, "Regular Armys is too, 'course, but that's more on the order of your castes and knights and such. They protects the peoples, and goes to war, on occasions, but you've practicalies gots to be borns to it."

He leaves it at that for a moment, silent as they walk. He waits, almost until he hears Val take a breath, and then continues, hoping to talk right over him, as rudely as possible without actually crossing into formal rudeness.

"Legion'll takes anyone, so long as they'll fights the Darkspawns. They're dead, so... unwanted sons, sods who don't have anythings to lives for. Criminals. Folks what get so far in debt they can'ts do better thans to just dig a grave and have dones with it. Even humans and surfacers're welcome, technically. It's an honorable ways to go, forgives your debts, and takes cares for the facts that even winning a fight against Darkspawns is likely a Blighted death sentence. Almost joined the legion myself, once."

[degenere]

Well, Val had been about to speak--or rather, to pose another question--but he'd stopped himself in deference of all that the Grey Warden seemed to have to say, and allowed him to go on at length while holding his silence.

Not that he entirely holds his silence, of course. Who could ask him to? He makes a kind of hmmm at unwanted sons, and a small noise of sympathetic understanding at honorable--really, these customs, as strange as they are there is a certain universality of tradition, and he is so inspired by this thought that he goes for his writing book to jot it down--but by the end of it all, he is ready with a guess: "Almost joined because of debts?"

[gentlecountry]

"No," Barty says, shortly, and keeps walking. He's not dignifying that one with a response.

[degenere]

Hmmm. This is a noise that Val actually makes aloud. It has a bit of a sepulchral echo to it. A very nice effect, considering the topic and their surroundings and all.

"Almost joined because of... unwant? You might as well say, I will keep guessing until you do. The list which you gave to us, it was rather short--so I will hit upon it eventually. Brienne, what do you think that the reason was? We could have a wager. It would keep things light amid all of this darkness. Ah, or the game of truths and lying."

[servility]

"Joined to do something of purpose with their existences," she says, as reluctant as she is to encourage him any. "Whatever you've done, dead is dead and your footing is all too even. I imagine it might be liberating." She certainly wouldn't be interested in joining up herself, but she can see a sort of draw to it. Knows more than a few individuals who might be drawn by such an offer.

Her brow knits a little, and she huffs out a breath through her nose. "Or perhaps they've enlisted to avoid men like you." In case he got too comfortable with her participation - they can't be having that. For what it's worth, her insults are more resigned than scathing.

[doneisdone]

Teren seems about to comment, but then Brienne does it for her. She looks over her shoulder at the woman with an impenetrable expression, then glances to Barty as if gauging how likely he is to throw Val off a cliff, then looks forward again with a quiet, subtly pleased expression.
Everyone's getting along just fine.

[gentlecountry]

Barty meets her eyes automatically, then rolls them stoneward in a silent plea for patience. He's not doing it on purpose, Val is just naturally like this. Or would it be better if he were? He can't decide.

"Thank you," He says to Brienne, and breathes to clear the frustration. No sense in clubbing fancy nugs for meat, as satisfying at it might be, "Anywho, the Legion's the one who made this here report, and it's the legion we'll need to talks to. Assuming, of course, we can gets Orzammar to opens the gate. Pert near impossible task, some days."

Because, you see, they are The Worst.

"But I thinks with two wardens and Teren's knack for a good Evil Eye, we cans manage somehow. If nots, we can always starts over from another entrance. 'Course that's a lot more dangerous for you two, so it's not to be preferred. Shouldn't be long, either way."

[degenere]

Far from being offended, Val chuckles at Brienne's comment. "There are," he tells her, looking around at her so that he can give her a wink, "no men like me, I am an original," but then he turns around again to consider the rest of the way before them and their plan for proceeding on and so forth.

Hmmm, again.

"I do not mind for danger, my friend. Why, danger, it is a possibility that we all face every day, yes? On some days, such as today, it is more heightened by our whereabouts and our situation and the work before us. But a man might find him in danger even while on a pleasure trip. Or in his own home. And of course here we have wardens and Evil Eyes and a very tall woman. And me, not to be forgotten or discounted. So, onward to Orzammer, I say! Let us have the gate opened for us, or else find a gate that will. It is all so very exciting."

jesus i'm so sorry

[servility]

A 'very tall woman', how very Tormund of him. This somehow manages to feel even less complimentary than the Wildling's assertations, as crude as those even were - but she keeps her mouth shut about it.

She does, however, wish to glean a little more about the specific dangers that this Warden is referring to. "More dangerous for us - because of the Darkspawn taint, correct?" As much as she'd prefer not to seem ignorant, she'll take 'looking ignorant' over 'being ignorant' any day.

[doneisdone]

"Ay." Teren's answer is measured, restraining herself from responding too brusquely: not everyone knows, least of all Rifters, and not all fo them will give her shit for it like Magni.
"So you two'd do well to keep back should we encounter any. The dwarf and I aren't like to get the Taint, not like you would."