faderift | If you go down to the woods today

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If you go down to the woods today

WHO: Asher Hardie; open
WHAT: Hunting bears! And maybe other things but mainly bears.
WHEN: Pre-dragon attack on the camp
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: Language most likely. Bear slankets will be on offer from the spoils upon returning to Skyhold.

It's the cold in Emprise du Lion that spurs Asher into action, that particular sort of cold that gets into your bones and can kill someone if they're trapped for too long. There are plenty of problems to be dealt with, Red Templars chief amongst them, but Asher can let others with more of a personal grudge deal with them first because the wildlife here is bold, maybe because of hunger, maybe because of other reasns because wolves tend not to have bright green eyes. Whatever the reason, someone has to deal with the other threats that might get bold and decide to come down to the camp and it's what he's spent most of his time doing so far, when he's not propping up the bar in the tavern that is.

Hunting's more fun with company, and so he puts the word about the camp, that he's looking for a few others to come up high into the hills with him where the game is thickest. The promise of pelts might be an incentive here - it's one of the coldest places he can remember being and he's used to the cold, even one that's come on as hard and fast as winter has here.

The crew isn't the typical hunting party but everyone tagging along wants to be there, and Asher's in good spirits as he leads them all off just as the sun is coming up over the horizon.

Hopefully it'll just be bears and wolves they're fighting today and nothing that's going to fight back with more than claws and teeth.

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“I’d been gone a couple of years when it started, off in that first company I was in, I would’ve gone home if I thought I’d been wanted but well, it’s my mother, she’d have just thrown me at the Darkspawn instead of just out on my arse.” Not that he’s bitter, things are about as good as they’re going to get between him and the family, and he always sent money back, always wrote sporadic letters, helped out the refugees when he got to Kirkwall because they spent a long time struggling. “Who knows, if I’d stayed and behaved myself I might’ve ended up in the army at Ostagar, I think dad thought some of us would spend a few years soldiering before we settled down.”

Excuse you Korrin but allow him to make a farting sound for longer than necessary before he laughs, wiping away the tears. “Knight-Enchanter, oh Korrin that’s funny, except you’re talking to a Reaver. Barriers make you soft, you forget what it’s like to take the hit and really use it. Isn’t that just some magical bullshit that your staff farts out? It’s not like this bad boy right here.” Like shit look at this axe, this axe is a big real solid thing just made for killing.

"You mean the axe or what's in your pants? Do you even know the difference?" Korrin snorts and rolls her eyes, not needing to see any battle boners but if anyone would have them, it'd be Asher. "And fuck that, I'm a mage not a damn warrior. Taking hits is not what I'm made for, but 'magical bullshit' definitely is, and it'll take that bear down just as well as Reaver craziness." She sticks out her tongue at him just to match his maturity level for a moment.

"As for Ostagar, it's just as well you didn't behave back then. Wasn't that a massacre? You would have brought a lot of them down with you, but the Blight would have continued anyway. It'd have been a damn waste." She just shakes her head, glad not to have a personal stake in that particular event. From the way she's heard some speak, it's a wound that will never fully heal.

"Of course I do, I can't replace or sharpen what I keep in my trousers Korrin." Besides, the blood has to go elsewhere when he's fighting, he doesn't want to present a very valuable target to people, but that's the sort of thing a warrior understands and not someone who hangs back. "I'll push you off a cliff, don't think I won't, we'll see how good your barriers are then." You know that whole 'I'm going to start swinging my arms and if you get hit it's your own problem' thing? Guess what Asher, Aedan, and Tobias liked to play as boys?

He sighs heavily because sometimes it still stings. He would've just been old enough, better with a weapon than a farm boy had any right to be, and he'd probably killed more people by then than some of the older souls in that army. "But my family still stuck it out, instead of packing up and taking ship. It's different when you have to watch your own people living in Darktown, that place is a festering pit, I hope they got everyone out and burned it."

"You and me both, Asher. Ugh, 'festering pit' is a kind term for it." Korrin shakes her head, nose wrinkling. "If we'd been in the middle of it when it all began, I think my family would have done the same though who knows if that means we'd still be alive or not. They're as tough as nails, but battling a tidal wave of darkspawn is a lot for anyone to handle."

And then Korrin straightens, smirking as she shades her eyes. "I think I just spotted a pelt with your name on it, Asher. It's not quite close enough yet, but we can fix that."

"Redcliffe drew the worst of it, or the stories coming out of there did. At least one hold in Ferelden upped and left, they lost a lot of people from it and Avvar put up a bigger fight than others." And yet his family made it. No one got sick, they even salvaged most of the animals and took minimal damage, probably nestled somewhere safe enough not to draw as much of the wrath of the horde.

Beside him, Bronson goes still, hackles rising, ears pricked forward as Asher readies his axe. "Lure it down and stand ready or just rush it, I can go for either."

"I'll trap it, you rush it. When it's tries to leave, it'll be paralyzed and you can have at." Korrin approaches carefully with staff in hand, ready to make full use of Static Cage as soon as she's close enough. It's her favorite spell for moments like these, and she loves turning things around on the animals so used to ambushing her.

The best thing about having a friend already in the Inquisition is that, despite running with different crews, they both know how to fight alongside one another from instinct alone. Asher knows to keep back from some of her magic so he isn’t caught up in it, drawing out the rage from deep within, a rage that isn’t fully his ever since he drank the dragon blood without knowing and felt something right settle in him after.

“On it! Bronson keep out of the cage, stand watch boy.” Can’t have his poor hound stuck in there with a bear now can he?

Running up, he holds his axe low on the long haft, swinging all the way round into a spin, not a deep hit but a powerful one, to knock the breath out of it.

With the static cage in place, Korrin smirks as the bear roars in response...and is then paralyzed when it tries to leave, as promised. There's also an extra present for it, in the form of a lightning bolt striking the beast after Asher's powerful swing. Blurring forward on waves of magic, she attacks with her spirit blade from another angle so the bear's attention will be divided.

“You really have learned a few new tricks since last we met up!” It’s a shout of approval, Bronson charging in to sink his teeth deep into the bear’s flank while he can, pulling hard as blood paints his muzzle. The bear can’t move but Bronson can, and he’s strong even for a mabari as grizzled as he is, muscle tearing before he leaps back and circles around to find a new place to attack. Asher swings again, confident enough in the three of them working together that he takes time to watch Korrin’s blade as she goes. Two-handed is two-handed, sparring might actually work better between them now and it’d be something new to prepare himself against.

Skyhold’s good for that, he ached after sparring with the Iron Bull but it was absolutely what he wanted and needed.

Moving to the leg Bronson’s at, he swings his axe up, a cut that only stops when it hits the strong bones of the shoulder, the bear’s breath fogging the air when it roars in rage and agony.

"I try. Good boy, Bronson!" Korrin flashes a grin at Asher's comment, glad he approves. Somehow, she thought a blade would earn that, even a weird one made of magic. Sparring later could definitely happen, upon which he'll see just how long her own personal barrier lasts now.

But she'll focus on the present, those roars demanding such. She'll close in to slice vigorously into its thick hide, appreciating how much easier it is to get past defenses now. When the static cage vanishes, she summons a lightning bolt to blast it anew.

Blades are better than anything else, and the bigger or heavier the blade, the better again. That’s how a real fighter does it when they’re not down to bare knuckles, something else that should make more of a comeback in Asher’s opinion. For now, it’s back to the bear, Asher roaring back at it as he circles to the front, staring it down.

The lightning hits and the bear rises up to try to come down on top of Asher, even wounded as it is but it just gives him a chance to swing up through the belly.

“Bring your blade up here, under the ribs, we’ll finish it quicker with less damage.”

Look he wants the pelts in decent condition okay.

"One bear pelt coming up!" Understanding his motivation and wanting to help that dream come true, Korrin nods in agreement. When it tries to swipe at her with a paw -feebly, in its state- Korrin automatically steps to the side, sliding briefly in the snow. Narrowing her eyes at the wounded bear, she closes in to slash where directed, just under those ribs.

The bear tries to make one final roar but the breath is punched out of the lungs and Asher neatly rolls back as it falls in the snow, swinging his axe down to lean on it.

He's laughing because it's Asher, he's always in his best mood when he's fighting and it's been too damn long. Let him go out in the world and take on all challengers and come out bloody and victorious at the end of it.

"Not bad Ataash, not bad, being around all those pious twats hasn't made you soft. And I'll have another bear pelt blanket, can't tempt you can I? For keeping this girl of yours warm?"

Straightening, Korrin grins as she lets her spirit blade disappear for now, placing the staff upon her back. "Soft? Never. There's no room for that here, or in the festering hellhole of the mire."

That grin lingers as he mentions Araceli, one of the easiest ways to bring a smile to her face or keep it there. "You definitely can. I try to keep her warm as often as I can; it was my original promise in bringing her here, you know. Vashoth heating pad. A little help toward that could go a long way, though."

If there’s one thing Asher does actually care about, it’s the condition of his gear so he takes a seat on the bear - it’s not like it’s going anywhere - and pulls out a cloth to clean the blood from the blade, running the edge of thumb along after it to check for dull spots or damage. The armour can wait until they go back though.

“You’re disgusting, it’s like going home and seeing Shannon and Aedan, it’s just me and Aura gagging at them.” Tobias would too but Tobias is a bit more like Asher with no plans to marry only without the benefit of being on the road; he’s well aware that he’s got a kid and just how angry four parents are with him. “Come on, help me get this down a bit further, I marked out a cache spot when I was out here the other day.”

Korrin pauses to inspect the bear as well, though from her less-trained eyes they seem to have done well enough in keeping the hide undamaged. There ought to be more than enough to use as they please. At that 'disgusting' comment, she just responds with a completely unrepentant grin. "And here I had thoughts of introducing you...or at least Bronson, he has better manners."

It's an amusing thought, seeing what Araceli would make of this huge, loud Avvar bundle of nonsense. But she'll focus again, nodding as she moves to cooperate. "Excellent, that'll save us time. We'll have enough before too long."

"You know that unlike Mal's dog, Bronson is a gentleman of class and distinction. It's why I gave him a proper name and not Jayne." Actually lies because Mal's dog is a good dog but Mal isn't here to defend his honour and Bronson likes to feel like he's the best mabari in the world, and after his start in life, Asher'll always indulge him. They're peas in a pod okay.

One paw in hand, he gives a tug to get it moving as he nods. "Already got one when I ran into one of the mages so she's got that for a blanket when I get the time. Figure whatever I don't use here is still one less thing attacking anyone around these parts and killing the game they actually need. And those tents must still be cold for an awful lot of people."

"They are, even when you have someone to help keep you warm. As I'm sure you know, too." Korrin knows him; if he isn't trying to bang his way through the Inquisition, something's wrong. "Which mage would that be, or is this one of those things I'm better off not knowing?"

Taking hold of the other paw, Korrin doesn't have the opportunity to pet Bronson again, but she does give him a fond glance. "They're both good boys, whatever the name. I'm surprised you didn't give him an Avvar one, though."

“I’m already composing a heartfelt letter of thanks for the serving staff in the Herald’s Rest, friendliest I’ve met in a long time, thanks for asking.” Although it does make him miss the last time he was in a hold and having to stay a few extra days because everything hurt in the best way. “Christine Dela- I’m bad at Orlesian, you know that, don’t make me sound like a tit saying her last name. She helped unload the wagon back at Skyhold too and well, best to let a healer know how often she’ll be looking after my ugly mug.”

With a shrug, Asher glances over to Bronson, the hound happy as can be out now and all puffed up with victory. “I got him not that long after I left home, I didn’t know what I was doing with myself then, didn’t even know if he was going to survive either. I was angry at everything and naming a dog Korth or Hakkon is overdone. I just called him brown or son at first, so I wouldn’t get attached and then when he was better, it just stuck. It fits him as good as any other name.”

"Fair enough. Some names are hideously common or become that way for whatever reason. I ran into a lot of mabari named after the Hero of Ferelden, which...Ferelden. A mabari deserves a better name than Jonas, seriously. Bronson is far better than that." At least in her opinion, and it's surprisingly inoffensive compared to what Asher could have come up with.

Upon hearing that other name, she snorts a little in amusement. "Oh, Christine? I like her well enough, she's one of the people I was sent to scout the area with and she definitely pulled her weight. Did your hairy Avvar self scare her off, or have her swooning?"

“Dane’s common. Loghain was but it says a bit too much now so it’ll probably die out until there’s a big anniversary of River Dane. We’re not good at the naming thing though; d’you know how many people I’ve had to turn down because they’ve got the same name as my siblings, or worse, my parents? Even I couldn’t do it, it’s just weird.” Time to deflect, he’s getting too close to feelings given Bronson and his siblings are the sole beneficiaries of the good side of Asher, the warmer, open, more gentle side, most of all Bronson and Aura.

“Oi!” He gives her a shove, somehow managing to look offended. “She wasn’t swooning, I don’t want Orlesians swooning when they’ve made a sport or a game out of it but she wasn’t put off. Who can blame her, you’ve fallen for my many charms before, even Mal. Distinguished gent or whatever he’s calling himself. He’ll have a title next time I see him, Duke Reynolds, I can imagine it now.”

Korrin just laughs at the shove and sticks her tongue out at him, a perfect picture of repentance. She does as she pleases, just as her hairy Avvar weirdo friend. Mention of his many charms as her rolling her eyes, though she can't deny or regret the past. Why should she, it was just a good way to pass an evening. That last comment gets an amused snort of out her.

"Mal, a Duke? Oh, please. He's almost as allergic to that crap as I am. I know Fereldans are called 'dog lords' but in his case I'm pretty sure it'll never be literal."

Honestly he’s missed this since the world had gone to shit and the Boneflayers had all spent so much time since Kirkwall only hearing about dead friends, going to wakes and funerals when they could or sending word. Even his mother had been worried until she’d seen Asher with her own eyes and there wasn’t much love lost there. Asher can laugh and joke about anything and look like he means it but well, it’s been a while.

“Look, if Mal doesn’t one day marry himself into nobility by accident or as part of a scheme I’ll be disappointed. And if I’m not escorting him down the aisle then I’m crashing the wedding anyway. You better remember that too.” As for him? Expert in avoiding being wrangled into marriages because he slept with someone.

Mention of weddings causes Korrin to chuckle, not truly thinking along those liens yet, but it's a pleasant diversion from bear carcasses and frozen landscapes. "If I do get married, you'd damn well better be there. The other Valo-Kas miss their 'only slightly shorter Avvar friend' and it just wouldn't be the same without your bragging, wrestling and attempts to get everyone as drunk as you."

It's nothing worse than what the rest of the Valo-Kas will do, after all, so Asher's in good company. "And Mal should know enough to expect it, too. He might give those long-suffering looks but that's just the way he is. I'd expect any wedding he'd be a part of would be the most Ferelden thing ever. Mabari everywhere. Right, Bronson?"

Wow Korrin rude, the bear carcasses are about the only thing this place has going for it, Asher would never hear of such slander were it voiced to him. "What I lack in size compared to some of your monsters, I make up for in other ways, they're just jealous I can go to an Avvar hold where 'anyone who'll have me' actually does mean pretty much everyone, even the thanes."

There's no better way to gain the approval of a thane than to give them a night they'll never forget.

"Honestly, most Chantry mothers have faces on them like dogs chewing a wasp so I doubt anyone would notice if you just shoved an actual dog into their fancy frocks."

If you go down to the woods today

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