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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"Hardly would have been profitable. Most mages go to the Circle when they're rather young so they'd have to have people to teach them such trades, and that would've taken away from their magical studies. Also I hardly think the Circles would want to deal with mages having more weapons at their disposal. And no, fire made from magic doesn't change it at all. It's still just fire." He might have tried. Sh.

At the mention of the wolves, Sam hums lightly, taking a moment to check behind them and to their sides. Their luck would have it that a pack of wolves or a bear finding them just because they were talking about them. "Some are pretty sure it's because of the Rifts. Either they're getting possessed or the magic is driving them insane. Out here though? Could be the red lyrium at work. Just being near it for so long can drive a person crazy. I can only imagine what it does to wildlife who only have instinct to go by."

"But what do you even do? I only know apostates, and mercenary apostates at that because the other ones usually want to kill us so we don't stop to chat." Too many of the ex-Circle mages Asher has encountered have been the kind to dip into the blood magic very quickly, out of desperation in some cases but again, he doesn't actually bother to ask. It says something about a person when the mage he has, raised as a mercenary, wrinkles her nose with disgust at the notion of using blood magic even in an emergency when she has no other option. "You should at least do something - don't you get bored? There are stairs but still."

When Asher stays still for a long time he's injured, asleep, too full of food to move, or so drunk he doesn't know where he's put his legs. The idea of just being stuck in one place makes him shudder visibly, scalp braids swinging.

"Well that's great isn't it. Even the wildlife can't escape magical bullshit. But weird things pop up during the Blight, ugly buggers, bears and wolves with...with growths all over them, my family saw some back on the farm." And they somehow survived it but none of it sounded good.

Speaking of which...

"D'you hear that?" He asks suddenly, right as his mabari cocks his head to the side as his hackles rise, the sound faint unless you know what you're listening for, low huffing grunts. "We're in luck!"

"Technically we're all apostates now so your track record isn't tarnished." There's a small grin on Sam's face as he says that. "There are a lot of stairs," agrees and corrects, as if that is the only answer. After a pause though Sam gives a shrug. "It's mostly lessons on magic, magic practice, research and testing. That's true for all of the Circles, though from what I know each one has different activities as well. Think in the Orlesian ones they taught dancing?" Yeah it did get boring at times in the Circle, but doing nothing wasn't quite an option, nor was getting out, so you made due.

He doesn't get much chance to respond about magic and wildlife, eyeing quickly turning towards the mabari as it starts to silently snarl. "Luck? What did we find?" He doesn't see anything just yet.

“Good, there’s enough tarnished when my name gets thrown around and well, mage stuff only extends so far as mages in my company or others, or any I’ve been hired to deal with.” Usually blood mages up to no good, often ex-Circle because they’ve always been the ones to go off the deep end when it comes to maintaining their freedom. It’s what makes him wary, makes him prefer mages who’ve never known a Circle. “There’s nothing to do for fun? I would rather cut my own feet off than learn Orlesian dancing, it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.”

A big hand settles on Bronson’s back, Asher dropping down in the snow to be at the same eye level, getting a good look before he clicks his tongue, the mabari prowling ahead of them. That’s when the first howl sounds, a long shivering note, echoed by others. They’re still shadowed in the scrub surrounding the few trees but they’re watching, smarter and more vicious than any wolves have the right to be.

“Wolves,” he confirms without really needing to. “How do you fight - ice, fire, lightning? The weirder shit, what’s it-- entropy? I’m a reaver, just need to know what we’re working with before they get down here.”

"You've seen Orlesian dancing?" Asher didn't seem the type to get anywhere near where such a thing would happen, but then again being a mercenary probably led him to a lot of different places.

Seeing the man getting lower to the ground, Sam follows suit, crouching down behind Asher and his dog. It's rather amazing to watch, seeing how without words Asher is able to communicate with Bronson, and seeing the dog start out again after just a noise. "Amazing."

Course hearing a chorus of howls off in the near distance has that quickly falling to the back of his mind. Wolves. Fantastic. "Little bit of everything. Mostly fire. Primarily healing and defensive spells."

"Thing is, you work for Orlesians and they want you to come to parties they throw, showing you off because they hired you to do something for them. It's how you make other contacts and if I could, I'd leave that to my second. But she's an elf and she's from Halamshiral, you can imagine how that goes." Sam can probably imagine just how often Asher gets into fights becuase of how she's treated and it's why he doesn't take many jobs in Orlais; he doesn't let anyone talk badly about his crew, least of all Melisende, the woman who looked after him when he joined his first company.

With a proud smile, Asher allows himself to watch the mabari, neither of them wearing kaddis today. It's a Fereldan thing, to feel this way about watching a dog work with that level of trust and understanding. "He's a good lad, he saw a lot of bad before I got him but we work together great."

His weapon is unsheathed and he gives an approving nod. "I don't need healing much but most things are afraid of fire and I'm used to it. If you do any of the barrier stuff do it now, they'll be on us soon." And true enough, they're already picking up the pace, green eyes glowing as they howl and snarl.

Even before Asher mentions it, Sam is standing up and casting a barrier around the two of them. He wishes he had, had the thought of casting before the mabari had gone off, but he'll have to hope it is ok until he's ready to do another.

The wolves are easier to see now, their black fur a contrast to the pristine snow. He quietly counts their numbers out loud before lifting up his staff, but before he starts to cast another spell he looks to the other man. "I take it you don't want me to actually hit any of them with fire? We want the pelts, right?" A bonus to having culled their numbers.

Bronson and barriers would go badly, poor bugger can only see with one eye, he doesn't need to be dazzled in the other one, not when Asher hadn't bothered to paint himself with kaddis.

"Ah you can hit some, bear pelts are better than wolf pelts, honestly I'd rather we got rid of these things. Let people sleep a little easier at night." It's a rare moment of caring from Asher but he grew up on a farm with plenty of animals to tempt normal wolves, and farmhands inevitably lost to them from time to time. They always mourned them after that, even if there wasn't anything left to mourn. "Besides, we should still end up with enough that someone'll find it useful, even if it's patching up some armour or one of the tents."

The first wolf comes as Asher speaks, Bronson loping back to Asher's side in time with it, lunging to tear at a hind leg as Asher swings down behind the ribs.

"Right." A short confirmation to signal that he understood what Asher wanted. He was in agreement that getting rid of them as quickly as possible was the best course of action. If they worried too much on keeping their hides whole they could easily get overwhelmed or hurt from the encounter.

As the one wolf heads to attack Asher, a second goes wide and comes to the side, most likely figuring to catch Sam whilst in the middle of a spell, though the beast quickly finds itself veering off when the mage swings his staff at it. The blade nearly catches the wolf squarely in the head, but instead grazes fur and stabs through the snow. Sam doesn't let the motion go to waste though, throwing his hand out at the other pack members after his staff has firmly sank to t he ground. Immediately a bright green circle forms across the top of the snow, but as quickly as it appears it disappears as the creatures run through it, paralyzing them instantly.

As they did back in Ferelden when he fought far too many of them just getting back to the farm and then leaving again, the glowing green eyes of the wolves unsettle him. Never a good sign when you make your living dealing with things that want you dead. Just another reason to get them all gone, to get the world back to normal again, the sort of thing more easily overlooked as one of those grand scheme of things deals.

“Bronson!” Asher calls, whistling sharply and the hound lopes around them both to herd the wolf back in with the pack. If they can keep the wolves in front of them it’ll make it more simple because even through armour they’ve got a bite on them, and mad as they are they might be able to hold on until they’re killed. He’ll need to ask later if that was a glyph because Amalia burns things and Korrin always likes to use lightning or she does around him but it’s getting the job done. Throwing his head back he lets out the sort of mad shout that terrifies foes, echoing through the air before he rolls with surprising neatness for a man of his stature. He spins, the cuts getting deeper as he goes, mindful of where he and Sam stand but managing to pen the wolves between them? Even if they can drop a couple it’ll make it an easier fight.

Well the shout certainly freaks Sam out, making the mage jump at the suddenness of it and taking pause to watch Asher roll across the ground. It's then that he notices the man and his dog herding the wolves together. Just as the lot of them were close enough together - his previous spell wearing off - Sam huffs, taking the chance to cast another spell while all of them were in proximity of each other.

The area where the wolves are at suddenly explodes in flame. None of the wolves are killed by it but the animals are certainly hurt by the explosion, fur aflame and starting to panic.

Reavers gotta do what a reaver’s gotta do and that includes generally blurring the lines between ‘person with even a vague recollection of who and what they are’ and ‘absolute monster and force of nature’. Asher’s been one long enough that he’s got a feel for it, he knows how to come back to himself and how to breathe through it but the first time seeing the bloodlust set in? Well it was apparently frightening enough before.

A look and Bronson is away from the flames - not afraid, thanks to Amalia being something of a wild pyro - but to guard Sam for the moment. Spellcasting can take time, a distraction can be fatal and painful.

Asher seizes his chance in the panic, wading in and slamming the axe down as hard as he can, down through earth and snow to stun the wolves before he starts swinging, trying to hit each one once, sending them lurching into one another, still burning, still panicking, growls becoming whines.

Seeing Asher move into the middle of the panic he holds off on casting another offensive spell that might catch the man in the midst of it. He also makes sure not to get any closer just so he doesn't get caught up in anything so that Asher can do his job. Instead Sam simply casts another barrier on Asher when he feels that it is necessary and focuses fire on the closest wolf.

It isn't long until two of the wolves are down, their fur still smoking after the snow had snuffed out the fire when they fell. Even with everything going on the rest still look like they plan on attacking.

“Wolves should fear fire,” Asher manages mid-swing, all those green eyes angry and intent. A wolf thinks better than most other wild animals do, enough to hunt properly and keep after a man should they put their mind to it, the kind of beast you don’t like meeting in the wilds when you’re alone. These ones are almost as bad as the ones afflicted by the blight that his family have spoken of often enough.

Down goes a third wolf, blood practically steaming on the snow when it falls, the tide turning to favour men and hound. He lets out another shout as a wolf lunges for him only to remember too late that the man holds a wickedly sharp axe that he buries in its chest. clean up the middle.

"Should, but nothing in this damn place is of good mind," he responds in agreement, panting slightly once the last wolf falls. There's a slight grimace on his face at the noise it makes before it stops moving, his eyes turning towards all the red around them.

Using the end of his staff he pokes at a couple of the bodies to make sure they aren't alive. "It's a good thing there weren't more of them." They possibly could have handled more, but honestly he'd rather not push luck with these crazed animals.

Even Asher has to pull a face at the stench of burning hair and flesh, moving to stand downwind as Bronson charges over. The wolves aren't getting back up any time soon without a necromancer or spirits to intervene so he drops his axe in the snow to grab the dog, shoving their foreheads together with a bright smile.

How many times can a man tell his dog he's a good lad, the best lads, a top bloke, all in babytalk in two minutes?

"Might be a den somewhere up these parts though, don't worry, we're not going looking for it but it'd be worth seeing if there is." Something to tell the Inquisition presence here at the very least. "You fought well there."

Many times it would seem, and for the entirety of it Sam just stands to the side, brow raised as he watches Asher babytalk to his mabari. Not that he's against the affection, but seeing a man like Asher talk as such as a bit interesting.

"I've been getting a lot of practice," he says in response to the compliment, smiling lightly as he slips his staff back into his holster. "You two were pretty impressive yourselves. I don't see many fight with an animal companion.

How do you suppose we go about finding the den?"

Look Bronson is a good dog. A great dog. The best dog. Or maybe Asher will never forget that bloodied sack of skin and bones he lifted out of a pit and nursed back to health on the road between jobs until Bronson muscled up and started to play, flopping on Asher as if they’d known each other all their lives.

“Nice to let yourself off the leash isn’t it?” Because the last thing Asher is going to do is discourage the love of a fight and getting to let it all out. “Ash warriors do it all the time, plenty of soldiers go to war with their mabari and the royalty still have kennels. And if a hold has a beast that can fight, like say a bear, it’ll join them in raids and battles, s’probably just more a Fereldan thing than anywhere else.”

Blowing a sigh out through his teeth, he looks up to where the wolves came from then to the sky before he cocks his head to listen to the wind. “Following the tracks is the best bet if there’s a party but as soon as the snow falls again we’ll lose them, a hound would be able to keep following but we have no idea how unpredictable they’ll be given the conditions here. I don’t go for traps, they’re nothing but cruel, so it’d be trying to get close enough to see it then to pen them in; someone up top, archers, mages maybe, warriors and rogues without bows down below on either side to flank if we can and a couple to draw them out.”

Thinking on the question, Sam eventually has to nod in agreement. He was able to use his healing plenty, but for once he had been able to utilize some of his other spells which was nice. Not that he liked burning wolves, but still, it did seem to let him get it all out.

"I suppose it is. Anything with four legs and fur seems to be more of tools or pets than a companion in other nations." There was obviously a reason they were called 'dog lords', but while others might say it like an insult, they took it as a badge of honor.

"I understand the entire concept, it's good, but are you suggesting that we go looking and just the three of us try to pen them in. Or are we going to call others once we find a den?"

"I've seen what Orlesians call a 'hound' and nothing could be further from my view of one. These dogs abandoned Tevinter for us barbarians, we've always understood each other better than other people understand us." Dog lord is the only sort of title Asher would ever see attached to his name, everything else is rejected vehemently.

"No, we go back to camp, scouts might have heard something, maybe find out if the locals know anything and we come back in a group. For now we say this was a job well done and salvage what we can from the mess somewhere by a proper fire with a proper seat. I'm not going to sort through their teeth here where I'll freeze my balls off."

"Well then. I guess we best start collecting them and head back to camp. Before the scent attracts something else out here, or something comes looking for whatever sent fire into the air, yeah?" That being said, Sam goes about grabbing the rope at his side to start tying up the carcasses.

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If you go down to the woods today

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