BREACH VALESKA'S WATCH

[faderifting]

WHO: Hercules, Ellana, Melys, Scipio, & Kaisa
WHAT: Checking on an old Deep Roads entrance to make sure everything is fine. Everything is not fine.
WHEN: Guardian 15
WHERE: Emprise du Lion - Valeska's Watch
NOTES: Closed quest log, featuring death and darkspawn.

For centuries, Valeska's Watch has been perpetually occupied by Grey Wardens who guard an entrance to the Deep Roads, which was used for the darkspawns' large-scale invasion of Orlais during the Third Blight. The Wardens collapsed the tunnel, but because of its size, concerns lingered that darkspawn would find a way through. The outpost was constructed on top of it so that the Wardens could, as the name implies, keep watch. Now, the Grey Wardens' withdrawal to the West has left Valeska's Watch empty and the entrance unguarded.

Comments

THE MAIN DOORS (Hercules, Ellana, Melys)

[faderifting]

From outside the outpost, Hercules should sense the presence of darkspawn well before the door is opened. There aren't many of them, at least. Able to sense Hercules in return, they will meet the group nearly as soon as the door has been opened: two genlocks leading the charge out of the darkness, two hurlock archers behind them.

There's no light inside, no braziers left burning in the months since the Wardens departed, except for a torch carried by one of the hurlocks and dropped to the ground so it can fire arrows. It's enough light to glint off the armor of defeated foes, hung on wooden stakes and lining the corridor like trophies.

The genlocks will make an attempt at dodging Hercules and attacking Ellana and Melys directly: they know they're dangerous merely by proximity, and they'll try to use it, making suicidal presses forward to reach them.

The shriek accompanying them cannot sneak up on Hercules, but it will certainly try.

As the group fights its way forward, the two archers will attempt to retreat to the main chamber without letting them close. The further in they press, the stronger the smell of cave-stale air and distant rot will become.

THE WATCH TOWER (Kaisa, Scipio)

[faderifting]

The tower at Valeska's Watch is pretty unimpressive for a famous Warden stronghold. It looks like a standard watchtower, and it climbs like a standard watchtower, roughly hewn stone making obvious holds and promising an easy ascent for the practiced climber. But the stone is freezing cold and in places icy, turning what should be simple into a more dangerous part of the endeavor. At the top is a window, shutters barred from the inside, that intrepid (former!)thieves should be able to make quick work of.

A spiral staircase winds down further than the tower is tall, into the hidden underground and toward the Deep Roads entrance the Watch guards. The stones worn in the center from centuries of feet and the stair is narrow, designed to be defensible by as few men as possible. But it seems it may take more than one, as a corpse lies dead on the stairs, a knife jabbed through the back of mage robes too generic to be Warden-issue.

Past that unfortunate fellow, Scipio and Kaisa will immediately sense darkspawn, and so the darkspawn will sense them in turn. A genlock and a hurlock crowd into the stairs to block their path, prepared for battle despite the close quarters.

Surviving and continuing down the stair will bring them into the main chamber of the Watch, a long musty room with vaulted ceilings pierced by tree roots, griffon statues as tall as two men, and a great iron-banded door flanked by guttering torches. Their teammates should already be waiting.

THE CENTRAL CHAMBERS (Everyone)

[faderifting]

When Hercules, Melys, and Ellana handle the hurlocks and make it to the inner chamber, they find themselves greeted by dark and stillness. They'll need to find sources of light--the hurlock's dropped torch, unlit braziers on the wall, Ellana's staff--but when they do, even the fog hanging in the air will seem heavy and unmoving.

At the head of the chamber is a Joining chalice, empty and unremarkable; on either side of the table before it, however, there are six scattered bodies, none in Warden armor. Four are dead with no obvious signs of trauma; two had their throats cut; all are mages, if they're examined closely enough to note their robes, staves, or spellbooks. In better days the bodies would have been tended to properly rather than left behind on the floor. Someone left in a hurry.

Scipio and Kaisa will arrive through a door at the top of the stairs behind the Joining site, near the large, barred doors that block--should block--the Deep Roads entrance that the outpost was designed to guard. The doors have been forced open already, one side damaged so badly that they can't be closed again, and beyond there's faint and distant light.

The light is emanating from beneath what used to be the floor, a seal constructed over the Deep Roads tunnel beneath Valeska's Watch. It's gone now. The Wardens in the group will be able to sense darkspawn nearby, but retreating quickly. The drop down into the tunnel is short enough to jump down, carefully, and climb back up with the aid of a fairly small length of rope; even from the level above, however, it will be clear that the once-collapsed tunnel has been substantially cleared and left wide open. It will take more help--explosives, masonry--to seal the entrance again.

[serannas]

Despite the danger in dealing with darkspawn, Ellana volunteers for this job. She's a friend to the Wardens and not all of them are here in Emprise du Lion right now, so she'll help those who are with their task. Standing outside the locked door with her staff already in hand, she watches Melys work on the lock, shifting on her feet. Her heart is already thumping loudly at the thought of facing darkspawn, but better her than one of the villagers nearby.

Once Melys is done, Ellana will get a barrier ready to place over them. And then she'll raise her kerchief over her nose and mouth to avoid any stray darkspawn blood.

[bunko]

[An easy ascent for a practiced climber, which Scipio is. What Scipio is not is a practiced climber used to ice and chill. Nor would he usually be a practiced climber who does not complain. Their way up has been very long, and very cold. But Kaisa is lucky: today, Scipio is not complaining, because complaint would mean opening his mouth, and opening his mouth would invite the cold air down into his lungs, and drive out what little warmth is in him.

His feet at least are very warm, thanks to magic boots. This does a little to cheer him, as does the thought of Sabriel. And the thought of Rafael, who will maybe not be proud at Scipio's earnest Warden efforts but will, at least, like the tale of this boldness later. He will like it so well that he will probably not even mind the fact that Scipio borrowed his lockpick set without asking.]

It was fortune that had me bring along picks for the locks. [--He tells Kaisa, though the words are much muffled by scarves and cloaks and things. His gives her a smile that is mostly evident by the crinkle of his eyes. Already cheer is beginning to set back in, thawing the cold. Fingers a little clumsy in his gloves, tucked close to the wall, he draws his dagger instead and slips it in between the crack in the shutters.] But I think for so large a lock, a larger-- ah.

[The bar on the other side of the window clatters to the floor inside the tower. One of the shutters sags inward, too rotten to act as it should on its ancient hinges.

Scipio nods at it.]

After you!

[unbrokenoath]

[ Kaisa had been expecting complaints from this new batch of Wardens, and she's pleased that she's been saved from them, however it came to be. While she's bundled for the cold as well, she doesn't seem to mind it quite as badly as Scipio. It's colder than it usually was in Ferelden, but she has heavy armor and a good cloak, and that usually gets her through.

She gives a cheerful smile to him in return, and apparently doesn't feel as dissuaded as he is from talking. Scipio might come to regret this. ]

Well, I'm glad one of us knows how to pick locks. I can't do it worth shit, usually I just hit the lock until it falls off, which sounds well and good, but sometimes locks have nasty shit going on, you know? You're just standing there trying to kick a lock and suddenly there's a fireball and you've got singed brows and--Oh, there you go.

[ The chattering stops as the lock is successfully picked, and Scipio is rewarded with a solid pat on the back. She delicately moves the shutters up, and pokes her head in, looking around. ]

More climbing, ugh. Makes me wish I had a shield and I could just sled--do they sled in Antiva? Do you guys have enough snow to sled? Never mind, just stay a few paces behind me. If I fall, tell the other Wardens I died saving a bunch of orphans.

[ She slips inside, straightens, and begins the descent. Heavy armor and a massive sword don't make for easy climbing, so she takes it slow. Arriving at the corpse, she spares it a lookover to make sure it's not a Warden, then makes a vague sign with her hands. Then, with a foot, she carefully scoots the corpse over the side. Sorry, mate, not enough room for everyone. ]

Maker watch over your soul, ya poor bastard. We'll, uh. We'll do something for him when we get to the bottom--Shit. Do you sense that?

[ She turns to look at Scipio, eyes suddenly wary as her senses are pinged by the darkspawn. And the darkspawn, presumably, get pinged by her, as well. She gives a low hiss, pulling her sword out. ]

You've fought darkspawn before, right? Maker's asscheeks, this is a bad way to have to fight them.

[bunko]

[Of all the locks he's picked, or been in the company of the picker, Scipio has only seen a handful of fireball traps. And he would say this, but Kaisa moves on--and on, and on, over the topic of snow and sledding and down along the stairs, to kick aside a corpse. Verbosity and wit are two traits Scipio can deeply appreciate. He fights down his scarves and layers with his chin, already grinning.

Which, perhaps he shouldn't be. The inside of the tower is a haunt and a ruin, with the corpse to prove it. The chinks in the stone let in a little bit of the wind, but only a little, nothing compared to the teeth of it when they were heading up to the window. The thaw will free Scipio's tongue and his wits in moments, enough to add pleasant conversation to this little jaunt of theirs, steep and deadly stairs or no.]

Ah.

[--Or, it would be pleasant, if not for the darkspawn. Which he does sense, actually, a gritty feeling at the back of the mind. Scipio looks back up the stairs, back the way that they've come, and thinks very seriously of climbing back out the window. It's cold, but it's not darkspawn.]

Well, when you say 'fight'-- [No, wait. He clears his throat, briskly, and draws his daggers.] Yes, yes. Of course. Though, usually with more stealth and secret, yes? Do you suppose that they have sensed us too?

[aforethought]

She’s antsy.

This has just a little to do with dropping into the middle of a literal shitbasket of wardens, and a Dalish mage looks half again more like a bundled-up baby doe. But Melys didn’t sign on to the Inquisition for her own blessed happiness — a fact becoming more apparent by the minute.

“I’ve got it.” Near to a carnival trick as they’re like to catch this side of the Frostbacks, her juggling the picks about one-handed, but you pick up a few of those after a piss-bored winter minding forts. Her voice stays steady beneath the cloth mask, quiet to match the little clicks of the mechanism. Not like it matters, the fuckers already know they're there.

“Gonna get back soon as it pops.” Gives her enough time to get fingers on a blade.

Melys jerks her chin at Herc and Ellana in warning, and abruptly falls back when the door swings open onto the darkspawn charge. She trusts Ellana to put a barrier down, because there just ain't any real alternative to it. Bigotry can wait until they know the path's clear; there's no sense in holding the high ground if it's over a grave.

She'll dart back in shortly, doing her best to hamstring or slow the genlocks for Herc, and try to give Ellana the cover she needs to get at the archers. If cornered, though, she isn't taking hits for anyone else, and she spends a fair amount of time just trying to avoid tainted blood.

[twelvelabours]

"There's gonna be a few waiting for us," Herc speaks, low and quiet, Striker Eureka in his hand and Rebellion held up. And as soon as the lock clicks, well, he's doing like the lady suggested, but staying as far forward as he can to make sure he can catch their attention first.

"Come on, you ugly mongrels!" Clattering his hilt against his shield, Herc is determined to get and keep the attention off the women with him. Not because they're women, no - he's smarter than than - but because that is what he does, it's what he's good at, and because they're not wardens and they still offered to help. That isn't the kind of thing lightly dismissed or easily forgotten. The blade of Striker Eureka is engulfed in flame, roaring through the air with each swing and thrust.

Two genlocks lumber forward-- and the bastards ignore him, though Herc twists to hack with his sword at the hamstring of one, hobbling it, bashing it with his shield before twisting to try and catch the other other, leaving a gash in his side. He'd follow up, but there's a shriek at his back. Thing is, he loves a good fight. It's about the only thing he's really good at, even with the Calling dragging at him. He and he guards and he watches, and right now he drives the sword through the shriek's throat before it sags to the ground.

[serannas]

The barrier is laid down over the three of them as Melys is starting to step back, because it's better to get all three of them under it than for Ellana to cover them, then fall back even more. Her armor is the weakest, and in battle she has to strategize where to stand while she waits for her mana to come back.

She pulls her kerchief over her nose and tries to look past the genlocks for ranged fighters, but all the action is happening up here, and there's only so much Herc can do. She slams her staff into the ground and fires a spell at the second one further back, leaving the first for Melys. Herc is now occupied with a third, and she keeps throwing spells at the one she's picked until it groans and goes down. It doesn't take long.

With the path clear, Ellana can finally get in and see who else is there. Two archers stand across the room, but not close enough for a single spell. She focuses on one, sending a lightning bolt straight through its body and leaving it arched on its toes, trembling at the energy coursing through it.

[aforethought]

The nice thing on Darkspawn is that it ain't like some of the stories — they really can die. The bitch of it's in getting there.

The close one's keeling, not from pain but temporary distraction; the wide slash that Herc's left along its side has ripped through a little more muscle than the Taint can quickly mend. Its skin's already clotting ugly and black, but between that and its meat-ribboned legs, it'll be hours still before it's back to moving on-balance. Hours that Melys doesn't intend to give. This time when she darts in, it's for the kill, blade biting down a ragged slice through vein and trachea.

Maker help Thedas if more of these things start adopting the gorget.

She wedges out her blade from the genlock's meaty neck, searching for the others through the dim. Ellana's lit up with magic enough to match a funeral pyre, and Melys makes a mental note to revise that whole sweetling fawn assessment when they ain't all a few lucky chances away from nasty death.

Herc doesn't take long to spot either, not swinging that great flaming razor around — and it's only then she sees the shriek, and thank all their holy stars that he seems to have that handled, because she never even heard it coming.

It's all in the space of an instant, the snap decisions and vibrating pace of battle: Like moving too-quick through a frozen space. Before she knows it she's sprinting across the gloom, making for the active archer, praying all the while that it doesn't decide to fletch a few new feathers in her coat. She's not fast enough to keep it from turning and an arrow to knock, and unless something stops that bolt before she makes pace, it's going to go straight into her shoulder.

But that's not the arm that's holding a blade, not the one that's making to cut off the genlock's own, and abruptly there's one shivering electrified darkspawn and another screeching its head off without bow or hands.

[unbrokenoath]

Please don't tell me they gave me someone so green I could stick you in the ground and grow cucumbers. Just--stay behind me, and try not to fall down the stairs.

[ Herc. Why Herc. On the other hand, sticking someone new to fighting darkspawn with a woman-shaped wrecking ball isn't the worst plan. This is probably a compliment. ]

Alright, first lesson on darkspawn. If you can sense them, they can sense you. And just as we're drawn to fight them, so are they drawn to fight us.

[ She glances over her shoulder at Scipio with a grin. ]

It's because they know that we're their greatest fears. The reason why they'll never win.

[ Maybe that's assigning too much intelligence to darkspawn, but who cares? It sounds cool. She continued down the stairs until she could see them--Only two, not an alpha or emissary in sight. Good. ]

You see that small one? That's a genlock. There's a shitton of them, because they're made by dwarf broodmothers. They're runty little fuckers, but they're also smart. They can make traps and operate heavy machinery. Now, the tall one, that's a hurlock. Made by humans. They're stronger, but they're dumb as a box of rocks. They usually travel with genlocks or other smarter darkspawn, because they need to be bossed around.

Luckily for us, a smart darkspawn is about on the same level as a smart nug.

[ With that, she descends the stairs, coming to the genlock first. This is terrible quarters for combat, and Kaisa barely has room to swing her sword around. She settles on something a little easier--When the genlock takes a swing with his axe, Kaisa doesn't bother to try to step back, just continuing her approach. She winces as the sound of metal against metal echoes in the tower, but shrugs it off. Then bracing against the wall, she puts her foot firmly on the genlock's chest, and punts it right off the edge. ]

Another note: fight smart. Gravity is one hell of a weapon.

[bunko]

Your pardon! I am not green, I have fought them! [Indignant, before he adds, more conversationally--] Only with more stealth, and secret.

[That being said, Scipio is not always the most willing of pupils, or the most adept. But he is able to listen, and he is more than able to work at saving his own life. That. at least, is a cause that he feels passionately about.

And also: it all looks and sounds very heroic. Her cool line is duly appreciated, filed away to be put to song or story at a later date. The names that she names all mean very little, and will be little remembered, at least for now--but he observes her treatment of the darkspawn as she shoves it bodily over the edge of the stair.]

Oh! [Please, and impressed, Scipio leans over the edge of the stair to watch the thing fall.] You are good at this!

[Genlock. He tries to remember it as he faces forward again, and fixes sight on two of them, scrambling up the crumbling staircase. Inspired, dagger in hand, Scipio ducks ahead of Kaisa to meet the first darkspawn, and gives it a kick.

Not sideways, unfortunately. But still, it is effective. The darkspawn falls back, instead, into the one just behind it, and Scipio--perhaps too amused--laughs.[

[unbrokenoath]

Stealth and secret are okay, but nothing quite beats bashing them in the face--see?

[ She grins at him as he kicks the darkspawn, leaning to the wall to give him some room. She also reaches out to gently grip his shoulder, to make sure he didn't go tumbling after the darkspawn. He's as tall as she is, but he's a lot lighter built.

He also didn't listen when she told him to stay behind her, but she decides that encouraging courage is more important than following orders. ]

You're not too bad yourself. Good job!

[ She laughs as well, because humiliating darkspawn is as funny as killing them. It's too bad they don't really understand they're being humiliated. ]

Alright, give it another go if you want, I'm behind you. I'll grab you if you start to topple over. If you don't think you can handle it, just get back behind me.

[ Look at her, teaching the youngins. She feels so responsible. ]

[bunko]

[Excitement had moved him forward, deafened him to warnings that would probably serve to ensure his continued life. Except, of course, Scipio is quite lucky. (Please ignore the part where he was conscripted as a Warden in the first place. That was a temporary failing of his luck.) It is, after all, his luck, that he has been assigned to accompany her in the first place.

Exhilarated by his success and his heroism, Scipio grins over his shoulder at her.]

One more, at least--then you may show me what is best done, when we do not have this gravity to use so easily against them, yes?

[These darkspawn. If it were all kicking them off of stairs and making them look foolish, then Scipio would be the greatest Grey Warden who ever lived. As his humiliated victim surges back at him, scrambling up the stairs, Scipio kicks again--at its face, first, and then with grace befitting an acrobat: a side kick, one that sends the darkspawn sprawling on the stair where it teeters precariously on the edge before overbalancing, and falling. Scipio laughs again, leaning just a little over the side to see, as three more of their oath-sworn darkspawn foes move to take the place of the one he's cleared off.]

There!

guh I am so sorry, I thought I had this tracked :[

[twelvelabours]

They're not doing half badly, though there's not a moment for pause or praise. The shriek is dead, both of those burly bastards have gone down, and Melys is belting it over to one of the archers. Even with that handy spellwork, though, they can't count on that lasting too long. Herc moves to the remaining archer (the one with its hands remaining, at least) jumping across uneven rocks and a gap in the ground to reach the damn thing as fast as possible.

The flaming blade cuts through its skull and caves in its neck, and his shield batters its head all the more, before another hack sends the thing flying right off, the foul smell of smoldering darkspawn flesh cloying the stale air, and blood splattered across his face and his armour. It's awful, even when you're used to it, but there's worse things out there, and he's turning towards Melys her screaming monstrosity. "Finish it off, or you want a hand?"
Figures she can put it out of its misery, stooping to grab the arrows belonging to the archer, but he's heading over once he's got the arrows, anyway. Not much, but something. Someone might have a use for 'em.

"We should get going." Gotta meet up with the others, gotta get their job done.

[serannas]

While those two get up close and personal, Ellana hangs back, twirling her staff with one more spell before Hercules gets over to take care of that archer. Then she scans around them, making sure she hasn't missed anyone hiding behind pillars or rubble. She has no personal experience with darkspawn, and doesn't really know what they're capable of doing. It looks like the shriek at least was capable of precision hits.

Once the last one falls, she jogs forward to catch up with Hercules and Melys, her stomach churning when the smell of darkspawn corpses hits her nose, even through her kerchief.

"Ready. Any more up ahead?" she asks him, though after the question is asked, her gaze shifts to Melys to see if she's all right. Not that Ellana can really do anything besides hand her a health potion. She's never learned any magical healing.

[aforethought]

"I got it,"

She grunts, aiming a low kick at the thing's knee. It stumbles, and Melys' expression fills with a nasty breed of spite, before stabbing down again to end it quick. It doesn't pay to try and play with Darkspawn, much as right now she's sorely fucking tempted.

The noise finally dies with it, preserved briefly in the echoes bouncing from the ancient walls. She figures that's their presence pretty well announced; Herc's right to keep moving quick.

But damn if that arrow don't hurt a whole piece more than she'd care for. She sheathes the sword long enough to feel at the bolt with a wince. It hasn't gone in too deep, but she's not about to yank it out now, not when there's a chance of just working it in worse. Melys snaps the shaft off careful as she can, eyeing Ellana. When she reaches out for the potion, it's with a silent nod of gratitude. It'll keep her going well enough for now.

"Gonna get dark bad, we get much further in." She murmurs, gesturing to the long-gutted wall braziers. Everyone in South Reach knows the stories of how well elves see in the dark, but Melys figures she and Herc could use a hand there. "Y'all gonna keep those weapons lit?"

Between a flaming sword and a flaming staff, they ought to make out okay. A second to catch her breath, and her own blade's out again, teeth grinding down into a familiar routine: Ignore it, keep moving, always keep moving.

[twelvelabours]

Herc's glance to Ellana for handing over the potion is a glad one, as well, albeit tempered by their present circumstances. He's not much of a combat medic, save for the basics and what you pick up trying to stay alive when you're solo and there isn't someone better qualified along with you. One thing he does know is don't pull out an arrow, but Melys is already on that. Quietly, he asks, "you need to head back?"

The question comes with a nod to the injury. She's not a Warden, this isn't her fight. Longer the arrow head is left in there, foreign matter and all the rest, the longer they're playing with the possibility of an infection. If they could get it out he'd cauterise it, stop the blood, but that's hardly going to do a thing for them if they're sealing something in there. Best he could do is slice up her shoulder some to get the thing out. Not something he'd recommend, personally.

And, to Ellana, he could honestly say that there's always more, but this isn't the time for comedic theatrics. He stops, careful, paying attention. "None nearby," he advises, cautious. "But there's some around." Quite how close or how far, that he can't tell. Not yet, anyway.

"Better we're ready if something happens to these," he says, referring to the flaming weapons, and moving towards one of the braziers with Striker Eureka extended to light it up. "Even if they aren't close now, they could be later."

[serannas]

Ellana doesn't really know Melys at all beyond this mission, and yet her first thought is there's little chance of her heading back now. She seems the type to take down any enemy no matter her injuries. Sort of the philosophy of 'If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me.' She recognizes it because Merrick's like that. Maybe if Melys had a hand cut off like she did to that darkspawn, the result would be different, but she's not wailing about her injury and Ellana can't honestly say she wouldn't in her place.

"If anything does happen further in," she begins in response to Hercules's words, "I can do this." She rotates her wrist, palm up to allow an eerie blue-green flame to dance above her skin. But for now, lighting the braziers along the way with their weapons works too.

[unbrokenoath]

Look at you! You've already got a hang of it.

[ Kaisa peers over the side, and briefly ruminates that the corpse that they had kicked over the side probably didn't appreciate them piling these darkspawn on top of it. But, well. Should've thought of that before he got his dumb ass killed, huh?

At the sight of three more of the fuckers, Kaisa decides that hands on lessons will have to wait. She'll be damned if she gets the newbie assigned to her injured or worse. She reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder (ready to attempt to grab him if he gets a little too close to leaning over the edge). ]

Alright, get behind me, now. I'll show you just why being a Warden is basically the coolest thing ever.

[bunko]

[The natural high that comes of such heroics vies, momentarily, with the sense of obeying Kaisa's suggestion. Why is being a Warden the coolest thing ever? Because it is!, and in this moment, Scipio could wax poetic on the topic for hours. Inspiration strikes at the strangest of times, but it should be of no surprise that it has struck him after such success!

Then again: why is being a Warden the coolest thing ever? He would like to see her illustration.]

That, I am ready to see!

[Nimbly--and with the careless ease of a man who could probably have backflipped up the steps, look at him, equally dashing, even if he's letting her take the fore--he jumps back behind her, an eager audience.]

[unbrokenoath]

[ Well, now she had to live up to her bragging. She sure wishes that she had been able to properly show him when they weren't on these stupid stairs, but she'd just have to make do. She eyeballs the darkspawn, and grips her large sword, angling it for the close quarters she'd have to get in. Then she...closes her eyes. For a few beats, she lets the darkspawn clamor closer to them, eyes shut, scowl forming on her face.

When she opens her eyes again, she focuses that frown on the darkspawn, and in one sudden movement, she runs at them, letting out an ungodly shriek of rage. The darkspawn ready their weapons, and Kaisa doesn't bother to try to dodge them. A hurlock gets a good hit on her, and though the armor makes it bounce off without a real wound, she gives a grunt of pain. But she doesn't stop her headlong rush. Instead, she uses her momentum to help swing the sword, solidly connecting her sword to the hurlock's head--with predictable results. The genlock is taken care of in similar fashion, and Kaisa ends up nearly hurtling down the stairs in her eagerness for battle. She does skid a few stairs, but manages to plunk her ass down, the heavy weight of her armor anchoring her.

She takes a few deep breaths, now grinning. ]

Fuckin' shitheads.

[bunko]

[Behind her, on the fringe of that fight, Scipio had watched the combat warily, with all the right gasps in all the right places. He is a good audience member, even if perhaps this is not quite a show or a spectacle that should have an audience. It's not entertainment, after all.

That doesn't stop him from applauding her efforts, once all is said and done. The snappy finishing line, the grace and style and easy effort--!]

Wonderful!

[He jumps down the stairs that separate them and offers her his hand--not to haul her to her feet again, but for a handshake. He beams down at her with pride. Her dispatch of their foes gives them a moment of breathing room, which gives them a moment to celebrate, and so he congratulates:]

Truly, wonderful! You are an artist, my friend! That is the sort of technique of which they write the songs!

[unbrokenoath]

[ Kaisa takes the hand and shakes it, but doesn't it use it to haul herself up. He looks like he doesn't have it in him to try that, anyway. She uses the wall to get to her feet, giving a little groan at the protest of body parts that got smacked by the darkspawn. But she shrugs it off, and flashes a wide grin at him. ]

Shit, really? Man, it'd be sweet if I had a song written about me. I would land so much action--Anyway, that's the kind of stuff you do when you're a Warden. You fight hard, you live fast, and you die fast. But, that's what it means to be a Warden.

[ She brushes herself off, and starts walking down the stairs, gingerly knocking off any remaining darkspawn corpses. ]

I think we're lucky, in that way, to be guaranteed such a cool death. Like, shit, some fuckers die all old and wrinkly and smelling nasty, and we go all...well, you saw what I was doing. Imagine that, but, like, with a bunch more Wardens and Darkspawn.

[ She glances over her shoulder at Scipio, with a careless grin on her face. ]

Personally? I want to die killing an archdemon. You get your name on this special list and everything.

[bunko]

'Fight hard, live fast, die fast.'

[--He repeats, committing this to memory. The bit about dying fast--less attractive, when applied personally. But in a song? It will rouse sympathy, inspiration, pride--a complicated mix of emotions that will guarantee a remembering.

Less keen to dwell, again, on the 'dying', Scipio nods along anyways as he follows Kaisa down the stairs. He has never much considered his own death since, until recently, he had felt invincible. It is less easy to feel so when the song of old gods runs through your head every moment of your living. But his vague thoughts toward his own mortal end had involved a great deal of swashbuckling and action, so he can identify there, at least.]

You have thought very long on your death, I think. [No judgement. It's just interesting.] In some places of this world, it is ill luck, to speak at such length. Some little demon may hear the morbidity and come to make it true. This is what I was told, when I was still so small.

[He indicates how small, with his hand close to his knee.]

But I like this, yes? To die in glory. If there must be a death, let it be a death that will be a legend, a death that will be remembered! A list? Pah. For you, we will write a song, a song so tuneful and lively that they will sing it in taverns all over Thedas. Your name, repeated in such legend, will grow your legend. And I will write this song for you now, full of your escapades, your daring--and save the last verses for your death, when it comes. Maker forbid that it be so soon.

[unbrokenoath]

I dunno if anyone's told you this, but everyone dies. No point in fussing over it.

[ It's said with no harshness, just a lazy grin over her shoulder as she continues to descend the stairs. ]

But you might want to take that with a grain of salt, or five. This may surprise you, but I've been accused of being reckless once or twice. [ Or five times, or ten. ]

But I like that! [ She laughs with delight at Scipio's words. ] That's what I've always wanted. To make a lasting difference, to know that I left the world a different place than when I entered it. And I mean, having a kickass song about how cool I am wouldn't hurt.

[ She finally reaches the end of the stairs, and leans on the wall, waiting. ] Man, if you wrote a song about me--That'd be so fucking cool. I'll have to find a way to repay you. One that isn't, probably, alla...this. [ A casual gesture at the pile of corpses that awaited them at the bottom of the stairs. ] Or talking your ear off about my personal philosophies. I just like chattin' with the newbies, you know? Alla this shit can be overwhelming and a lot of you guys come to us 'cause you ain't got a choice.

But I strolled on up to Vigil's Keep and told those suckers to pass the chalice over, 'cause I'm going to be a Warden. So I figure, it doesn't hurt to know that it's not all glum and sad and shit, you know?