“Sort of yeah, sort of no. I do actually like it in the lodge. This place, though…”
Astrid looks out at the landscape ahead of them: a barren wasteland, craggy and hot and desolate. Turns out it’s called the Blasted Hills for a reason. “There haven’t been too-too many,” she says, “mostly ‘cos this place has been abandoned a while so they don’t know we’re here to attack, I think? But best to stay on guard anyway.”
She keeps half her gaze on the outskirts even during the conversation. Like watching out for predators skulking around a camp, except some of these darkspawn are too smart for their own good; too humanoid, too unsettlingly sentient. Those barks and hisses don’t mean anything to her but they still seem to be able to communicate with each other. Hive-mind, the records had said.
And Vlast’s ‘walked the perimeter’ sounds so brisk, professional. “You done this sort of thing before?” she finds herself asking.
no subject
Astrid looks out at the landscape ahead of them: a barren wasteland, craggy and hot and desolate. Turns out it’s called the Blasted Hills for a reason. “There haven’t been too-too many,” she says, “mostly ‘cos this place has been abandoned a while so they don’t know we’re here to attack, I think? But best to stay on guard anyway.”
She keeps half her gaze on the outskirts even during the conversation. Like watching out for predators skulking around a camp, except some of these darkspawn are too smart for their own good; too humanoid, too unsettlingly sentient. Those barks and hisses don’t mean anything to her but they still seem to be able to communicate with each other. Hive-mind, the records had said.
And Vlast’s ‘walked the perimeter’ sounds so brisk, professional. “You done this sort of thing before?” she finds herself asking.