[closed] let's all go to the deep roads

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren, Barty, Ellis, and Vance
WHAT: a routine excursion to the Deep Roads and gesture of goodwill to the dwarves of Orzammar
WHEN: after Champrovent/Kingsway
WHERE: the Deep Roads around Orzammar
NOTES: darked spawn

I. Traveling

There's a lot of walking. They leave straight from Champrovent-- with Vance, which Teren hadn't expected in the beginning-- and meet Barty partway over with extra provisions and his indomitable spirit.
After what they've just had to do, there's likely little cheer to be found, and if left undistracted, they remain a quiet, surly bunch all the while. Fortunately, they are unlikely to be left undistracted.


II. Camping in the Deep Roads

On the first night in their destination, after tents have been pitched and fires built, Teren passes wooden cups around and pours a bit of wine into them from a dusty old bottle.

"To those we can't save," she says solemnly, lifting her cup and staring at the fire, "and to those we can." Neither fate is ideal, for most.


III. Darkspawn Battle

Traversing the Deep Roads is quiet and boring at the best of times and bloody at the worst, but apart from the few smatterings of darkspawn they've managed to eradicate, everything has felt pretty routine. The Wardens are making their gradual return to Orzammar, idly playing a game in which each person in turn contributes the next word to a story, when they're met with an ambush.

A flame trap, triggered by an unseen force, roars up in front of them and behind, the walls between crumbling as two small armies of darkspawn pour out of the loosely covered-over cracks. A hurlock emissary waves its staff, and anyone standing in the wrong place at the wrong time is temporarily paralyzed.

----

Comments

for Vance, before leaving Orlais

[doneisdone]

The dust has settled and the Wardens are about to make the second leg of their journey, but first something wants settling.

"When was I going to find out," Teren asks, coming to lean wearily against a wall beside the dwarf.

activate party companion rep grind conversation

[pittance]

Not like Vance doesn't get it. No one likes surprises —

"Find out what?"

But Teren is going to have to use her words.

(That Ellis didn't tell her, that she didn't ask the questions, that Champrovent went so sideways? None of them say he's been wrong to wait.)

[doneisdone]

Cheeky. She knows he knows, but is too exhausted to bawl him out.

"That you're one of ours." Assuming he actually is, and that wasn't some kind of terrible joke.

Barty, Open to all

[gentlecountry]

i. traveling
Barty had been a traveling dwarf for all his life, and much against his preference and better judgement. He knew how to pack, how to eat on the road, and how to walk so that you could make a steady pace that would last all day and into the night, if necessary. He'd passed by many a speedier fellow, eating up the miles in measured bites that added up to more and faster over a week's time than any runner could manage.

But say this; he hated the sun. And there's nothing like walking along baking to make a man regret his life's choices. And so, here we have a fine dwarven example of a warrior and a warden, armed and armored, full pack tied high on the shoulders in the recommended fashion, practical boots, and of course the bonnet.

Which he has just whipped out and tied on.

It's made of pale straw and has dried flowers on it.


ii. deep roads camping
Barty takes his cup from Teren with gratitude, and offers his own toast to the lot.

"If I dies before you, raise a glass ins my name. If you goes before me," And then downed the cup in one graceful gulp and a second, which was less graceful and left his mustache a bit moistened, "...I’lls do the sames."

Breathing deep, he nods down the line. Now, you.


iii. darkspawn battle
And, of course there's a fucking darkspawn mage thingummy, because there's always magic at the most inconvenient times. And of course, of course it's Barty.

"Startings to think," He grits, fighting his own clenched teeth for every word around the paralysis, "That you're nevers gonna takes me.... nowheres nice..... miss Teren."

He's not best pleased, shall we say. Please, someone help him.

[pittance]

"When it mattered," A level glance — it's when she did. He passes the waterskin over (want it?), doesn't sound any less than calm to add: "If we're gonna have problems, I'd soon as settle them now."

[doneisdone]

She takes the waterskin, sniffs from it, and then drinks briefly before handing it back.

"Oh, you would, would you," she sighs, grim amusement creeping into her admonition. "I've no problem with you, as I don't know who the fuck you are, but more bodies in the order are usually welcome."

She rests back against the wall, clearly wishing she could sit, but knowing that if she did so, getting back up would prove too much of a trial.

"Are we gonna have problems?" She angles her head toward him. Then, as an afterthought, "...not from Ansburg, are you?"

Fucking Ansburg Wardens.