war table: one giant leap.

[propulsion]

WHO: Intrepid heroes
WHAT: Forging a path to the second Crossroads Gate, and then poking it with sticks.
WHEN: Late Drakonis
WHERE: The Crossroads
NOTES: n/a

Comments

[armd]

Abby takes it wordlessly from him; now, she is holding a mace in either hand, which feels very powerful. Ellis has, this entire time, been the most on edge she has ever seen him be, and that isn't at all reassuring.

The thought of him touching the edges of the distressed Rift makes the shard in her hand fucking ache.

"Don't."

Whatever he's planning on doing, that is. It can't be a good idea.

[heorte]

The tone of Abby's voice slows him, draws him up short momentarily. It doesn't dispel the decision he's made, but—

"It's my duty."

He can explain. Or try to explain. Abby is a Rifter, hailing from some distant place. What does she know of Grey Wardens? Who in her world is so bound up in a thing bent on destruction and death?

"It can't hurt me," is meant as a reassurance. "It's what we're here for."

It's what Ellis is made for. This is what Wardens do: they cross over the blight-scarred land, feel the sickly pull of the taint scorching at them and shake it off so they might kill what needs killing. That's the heart of their order, the center point that has never wavered for him.

[armd]

Duty. Orders. Doing what you're supposed to. Abby stiffens a little, her knuckles stark on the handles of each mace. "... You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Bit rich of her to say when she did practically everything Isaac ever asked her to do. She doesn't think she ever wanted to do it, but she didn't not want to do it either, she just... didn't care. About anything, really. Look where it got her.

She doesn't want to see somebody else step blindly onto that path, is what she tells herself. And maybe part of her has grown fond of Ellis over time and doesn't like the idea of him getting hurt no matter what he seems to think, but that's a little harder for her to admit to.

[heorte]

There's no humor in this moment, not really, but some shade of amusement shifts the expression on Ellis' face. This is a little like a joke Abby's telling to him, without anyone in earshot who might advise her how useless it is to implore Ellis to think about what he wants.

She is young, Ellis thinks. He had known this of Abby, though she is taller than he is, capable with a weapon, hard and unyielding in a way that tells him she's been through hardships of her own. But she is still young. And this entreaty—

It isn't enough to shift the calcified core of resolve that Ellis has carried for nearly half his life. But it does hold him there, watching her, while he tries to work his way towards some kind of reassurance.

"I chose this."

It is true, to some extent. Ellis chose to become a Warden. His reasons for doing so are not pertinent to this conversation.

"You're kind to worry," he tells her. "But I'm not afraid. It's what a Warden is meant for."

And he's a Warden. (And he hasn't care what happened to him for a very long time. Barely cares now.) There are very few of them among Riftwatch who can attend to this, and it would be unforgivable if he were to shirk that duty.

[armd]

I'm not, is what she opens her mouth to say. Not worried, but–

Is it so bad that, over time, she's grown to like the people that she works and shares a living space with? (Yes. But that has nothing to do with this moment, and everything to do with old, ingrained fears, she knows that. Maybe she shouldn't let that affect her so badly. It does anyway.)

Ellis is looking at her. He's got a strange expression that Abby can't read perfectly, but she's gathered that he thinks she is being naïve.

"... Okay."

She doesn't know a lot of things about being a Warden. He does, it's his call to make. Her attention flickers toward the blighted Rift, and she wishes she had something to do, some part to play. "What are you going to do?"