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erikacousland · 5 years

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"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun." (Phonetic pronunciation: SHOCK eb-AWE-seat HISS-ra. MARE-awed a-STAR-eat, MARE-awed it-WAH-seat, ab-AWN AH-kyoon. ma-RAHS SHOCK-ra. an-AWN E-sawm kyoon." (I am really sorry for making you read this.) Meaning: "Struggle is an illusion. The tide rises, the tide falls, the sea is changeless. There is nothing to struggle against. Victory is in mastery and balance." He's reciting this passage from a holy book from memory.)

Oh, poor Mark Hildreth… our handsome Wise Human Male HOF. (lol)

"You aren't one of my captors. (slightly surprised)" (Leliana) "I remember the revered mother mentioning this man. She called him a savage from the far north." (restored by Qwinn's Ultimate DAO Fixpack) "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace. (bored)" What are you? "A prisoner. (Duh) I'm in a cage, am I not? I've been placed here by the Chantry. (patient, very literal)" (Leliana) "The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children." "It is as she says. (regretful) I am Sten of the Beresaad--the vanguard--of the qunari peoples. (he is introducing himself, be gruff | Beresaad: (BAY-ris-ahd))"

Qunari? (APPEARS WHEN (NOT): pc is smart) "If you haven't heard of us, that is your own shortcoming. (Dry. Still)"

I've heard qunari called "the warmongers of the north." (APPEARS WHEN: pc is smart) "We are called a lot of things. What's your point? (dry)"

I am Erika. Pleased to meet you. "You mock me. Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands. (stuffy)"

"Though it matters little, now. I will die soon enough. (accepting his fate for what it is, calm and zen)"

(Leliana) "Are you... just going to leave him here? To die like an animal? This is too cruel a punishment, even for a murderer." (Alistair) "Not to put too fine a point on it, but qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us. (hinting)"

(Morrigan) "This is a proud and powerful creature, trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If you cannot see a use for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy's sake alone. (respectful)" (Alistair) "Mercy? I wouldn't have expected that from you. (surprised)" (Morrigan) "I would also suggest that Alistair take his place in the cage. (sharp)" (Alistair) "Yes, *that's* what I would have expected. (with a roll of the eyes)"

"I suggest you leave me to my fate. (disinterested)"

What did you do to end up in here? "I have been convicted of murder. Have the villagers not spoken of this? (without shame or hiding)" Who did you murder? "The people of a farmhold. Eight humans, in addition to the children. (emotionless)" That's horrible! "I agree. (mild)" Are you guilty? "Are you asking if I feel guilt, or if I am responsible for the deed? (curious) However I feel, whatever I've done, my life is forfeit now. (flat)" If you feel guilty about the murder, why did you do it? "Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret. (dry)"

Capturing you must have been difficult. "There is no difficulty in capturing prey that surrenders. (dry)" You didn't resist capture? "I waited for several days until the knights arrived. (flat)" Why? "Because I wished to. (doesn't want any more discussion)" What an odd thing to do. "Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, to know nothing of regret. (dry)"

How long have you been here? "Twenty days, now. I shouldn't last much longer. Another week at most. (speculating)" That's a long time to live without food or water. "Compared to your kind, maybe. (disinterested)" I could give you some food and water. "Tempting, but I shall decline. Were you in my position, would you prolong your imprisonment? (sardonic)" I could end it for you now, if you prefer. "My preference is death in battle. Failing that, I will wait for the darkspawn. (uninterested)"

Aren't you interested in seeking atonement? "Death will be my atonement. (simple)" I suppose you are right. "Then we are in agreement. (disinterested)" So you would prefer to die? "I would prefer to die in battle, but my choices have been made. (sardonic)" There are other ways to redeem yourself. "Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime? (dry)" I don't know. "Then we are where we began."

I find myself in need of skilled help. "No doubt. What help do you seek? (dry)" What do you care, so long as you're free? "There are greater things than freedom. Honor, for one. (quiet, but strong)" That's none of your concern. "You want me to help you, but it's not my concern? Your logic is impeccable. (disinterested)" I'm on a quest of great importance. "Importance is a matter of perspective. From here, very little seems meaningful. (distant)"

I am sworn to defend the land against the Blight. "The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden, then? (surprised)" (Erika) No, I'm not. "Strange that you would swear yourself to another's task. It was my impression that such an honor belonged to the Grey Wardens alone. (smart, picking apart the player's words)" The Blight is everyone's adversary. "Everyone does not try to fight it." (Alistair) Yes, I am. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill... though I suppose not every legend is true. (surprised, then disappointed)"

Would the revered mother let you free? "Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here. (hinting, pretending disinterest | APPEARS WHEN: knows pc is grey warden (generic flag))" "I would not, were I her. (wiith a shrug)" Then stay in there, for all I care. "I shall. (as in "get lost")"

(Leliana) "To be left here to starve, or to be taken by the darkspawn... no one deserves that, not even a murderer." (Alistair) "Eaten alive by darkspawn? That's cruel. I wonder why the revered mother is so afraid of him." (Morrigan) "A penitent man left to be torn to pieces by darkspawn, 'tis a fine example of the Chantry's mercy, is it not?"

Dragon Age: Origins Screenshots 1920×2160

Lothering, Part 5: "A penitent man left to be torn to pieces by darkspawn, 'tis a fine example of the Chantry's mercy, is it not?"

VO/Localization Comment, from Dragon Age Toolset in the ().

#Dragon Age: Origins #Dragon Age #Cousland #Leliana #Morrigan #Alistair #Sten #Lothering #Screenshots

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wootensmith · 5 years

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Messy

Sorry this has taken so long. It was actually inspired by @hansaera a while ago, she wanted situations where Solas would be angry. I’m sure she’s found her idea by now, but I kept thinking about it and wanted to write something that wasn’t about saving Lavellan (not that there’s anything wrong with that). So here’s angry Solas and also angry Dorian plus bada@@ Krem, too.

He almost missed it. The training yard was meant for scuffles, after all. It was constantly in use. For combat training, as entertainment on slow days and, yes, to work out tensions that spilled over from the tavern. Part of the normal background noise as Solas made his way across the keep. But the use of an extremely filthy slur caught his ear. Neither Blackwall nor Cassandra barked a halt at the unnecessary insult as they usually would and he paused to look, his wandering thoughts arrested more by the vicious tone than the word itself. The training ring was crowded, eight or nine soldiers in Inquisition uniforms, but the rest of the yard appeared deserted. Instead of evenly matched pairs sparring under a watchful captain’s orders, the men seemed to be focused on only one object. Krem. Solas recognized none of the others and neither Cullen nor Cassandra or Blackwall were anywhere in sight. “Back off,” growled Krem, waving the wooden practice sword at the tightening ring of soldiers. “Was your sorry hide the Inquisitor dropped the Qunari to save. Least we can do is teach you how to defend yourself properly,” said one of the men. Solas disliked the crooked grin the man wore. He glanced at the others. It wasn’t practice swords in their hands. One of them darted forward, his knife flashing. Krem parried it, the metal thunking against wood and sticking. Another man saw his opportunity in Krem’s distraction and lunged. “Stand down!” Solas shouted before it could get worse. Only two of the men even turned to see who it was, and seeing only Solas standing there, turned quickly back to Krem, who grunted when a large sword clanged against his chest plate. He stumbled backward and the other men rushed in closer. “I said ‘stand down’ soldiers!” Solas roared and waded in. Idiot, he thought distantly, no armor, no staff, and you’re both outmatched. But it was a small irritation. He didn’t hesitate, just grabbed another practice sword from the barrel as he dashed past. Should avoid magic anyway. Last thing this situation needs is an angry templar commander out here. He swung the barely shaped board at the legs of a nearby man. It connected with a thwack across his thighs. It could hardly have made a sting through the man’s leather armor but it startled him and he turned toward Solas. “Krem’s a formidable foe,” snapped Solas, “but eight against one? Either your combat skills are embarrassingly poor or this isn’t a fair sparring match.” “Leave, apostate,” said the man, flourishing a dagger. “Not your business. Go back to your books.” Solas smacked the man’s wrist with the flat of his wooden sword and the dagger flew free and slid across the yard. “You leave. It’ll end much better for you,” he warned the man. He shook his head as the man’s face curled into a sneer and he hurled himself toward Solas. A swift sidestep and the man went sprawling. But two more had turned away from Krem and toward him. “Leave,” he told them, “We’re on the same side. Nobody needs to get hurt.” He was unsurprised that the response was only an attempt to stab him. He fade stepped easily out of the way, softening his resolution not to use magic in favor of keeping his internal organs in place. He erupted behind one of his attackers and struck him heavily in the temple with the pommel of the practice sword. The man reeled away and Solas swung at the other in the meantime, catching him squarely in the stomach. His opponent was knocked off kilter, surprised at the sudden arrest in his momentum, but it hardly slowed him and he managed to spin and nick Solas’s arm. “Felasil!” Solas cried, “Save it for Corypheus. We’re allies!” “Not if you’re defending that Vint dog, we aren’t,” grunted the man. Somewhere behind Solas, Krem shouted in pain. It sounded shocked, sudden, and Solas had a flash of fear. Holding back wasn’t helping. They’ve been warned and refused to heed, Solas told himself. Besides, if Cullen doesn’t have their heads for this betrayal, I will. He sent the man who had cut him flying with a stonefist and whirled to face the others. Frost spat from his fingers and crept rapidly down metal weapons, causing the men to drop them in surprise. A few yelped and fled and Solas allowed it, focusing on the four who remained. They’d cornered Krem against the stone wall. Solas could hear the thunk of Krem’s wood sword, but fists jabbed inward anyway, even as one man swore and pulled back at the sudden sting. He yanked one of the men away by the shoulder, but his advantage was mostly gone. The man was unsurprised and twisted rapidly to face him. Solas took a blow to the cheek and was flung to the ground before he could recover. “Should have gone while you could, elf,” snapped the man. “What’s the Vint to you? Cost your precious Inquisitor the favor of the Qun—” “Parshaara!” shouted one of the remaining men, and Solas realized this wasn’t a simple scuffle between Inquisition soldiers. He blasted the man above him with ice and leaped up. “They aren’t ours, Krem,” he called. “Some are,” Krem groaned. Which ones? he wondered, fade stepping in beside Krem, knocking back the other men a few feet. Let Cullen sort them out. Ice cracked and groaned around the knees of the attackers. It would not hold them long. Krem burst out, smashing them one by one across the back of the head with his practice sword. “I could have put them to sleep,” Solas protested. “Didn’t feel like being especially gentle,” grunted Krem. One of his arms hung at an unnatural angle and his face was already beginning to swell where it was struck. “I can’t blame you. But Leliana will want them to talk. Or Bull. There are Qunari spies mixed among them.” “Yeah,” sighed Krem. “I know. Just didn’t expect it today. Hope Bull’s okay.” “Where are the other Chargers?” “Out on a mission. Bull expected this, wanted us gone. I stayed— just thought I’d be with him when they tried.” Krem dropped the wooden sword with a clatter. “Didn’t really expect some of the regular soldiers to get so riled up by what happened on the Storm Coast.” He spat a few drops of blood and wiped his mouth. “Wasn’t just us the Inquisitor saved, you know. Those dreadnoughts were lost either way. There was no winning that battle.” He looked over at Solas, as if expecting some response. Solas nodded, though he’d no idea what had actually happened with the Qunari beyond the brief. It had been a tender point between himself and the Inquisitor and he’d felt it wiser not to ask. It was done, in any case. And Solas believed for the better, though saying it aloud would not have endeared him to the Inquisitor. “I’m— sorry for Bull. This isn’t— never wanted this to happen. When I convinced him to join the Inquisition, I thought it’d be good coin for a good cause. Never dreamed it would make him lose…” Krem shook his head, clutched his injured arm. “Glad you stepped in when you did, but I can handle it myself,” he finished. Solas crossed to him. “I know you can,” he said gently, “but you shouldn’t have to. The Chargers are part of the Inquisition. Allies. Friends. There should never have been room for something like this attack to grow.” He stopped. There was no reason to keep him standing here in pain to fume at unconscious fools. “You’re injured. May I?” He raised his hand, but paused as Krem flinched slightly. “Thanks,” he said, “but I’ll wait for Stitches.” Solas frowned slightly. “The bruises are one thing, Krem, but the arm— I think it’s broken. It will fester if you don’t see the surgeon. Krem crooked his head toward the unconscious men. “Surgeon could be with them.” “Hmm.” Solas couldn’t discount the possibility. “I could go with you—” Krem shook his head. “Thank you, but I need to find Bull. If these men were here, it means there are others.” “We’ll find him now. He can go with you to the surgeon afterward.” After hesitating a moment, Krem finally agreed. He clutched Solas’s shoulder with his good hand. “Can’t see for shit,” he said, squinting through his already swelling eyelids, “You’ll have to help.”

It took longer than expected to find Iron Bull. He hadn’t been in the tavern, nor Cullen in his office, Solas stopping there to ask him to clean up the remainder they’d left in the training yard. People inside the Keep had gasped and skittered out of the way when they entered the throne room, but no one offered to help. Krem was leaning heavily on Solas’s shoulder by then, and Solas knew the Charger was in immense pain. “Ambassador Montilyet will know where they are,” he said gently. Krem just muttered an agreement and let Solas lead him toward Josephine’s office. It was Dorian’s voice that erupted from the War Room first. “—thinking? Might as well have the King’s messengers announcing your whereabouts across Thedas—” “Dorian, we all knew the ri—” Iron Bull’s rumble was cut off by another shout. “Vishante kaffas! Neither of us signed up to start a war with Par Vollen—” “Josephine believes we’ve avoided that much. The Arishok sent a letter lamenting the loss, but seeks not to go further.” The Inquisitor’s voice was hesitant, doubtful. “Oh yes? That’s what the letter said, was it? What’s that gaping wound in Bull’s shoulder say?” “It’s not gaping, Kadan. It was two men, easily dispatched. I knew it was coming. It isn’t worth this chaos,” said Bull. “You knew? You knew. Maker’s breath. Why were you up on the ramparts alone then? And where on earth was Krem? He’s supposed to be looking—” Solas pushed the door open and Dorian stopped to look. He looked ready to hurl the croupier rake from the table at him. “Don’t you dare come in here to defend her Sol—” he started but abruptly stopped when he saw Krem hanging onto Solas’s shoulder. “Good, Chief?” he asked, his puffed face squinting hard to find Bull. “Damn sight better than you,” said Iron Bull rising from the chair Dorian had no doubt shoved him into. “What happened?” said Leliana sharply. “Does this have to do with the assassination attempt?” “They tried then?” asked Krem instead of answering. “Could hardly call it ‘trying’,” answered Bull tipping Krem’s face sideways to get a better look at his bruises. “Should get Stitches to look at you. Broken arm.” “He’s with the boys near Verchiel on the job, remember?” “We have healers,” said Cullen. “I’ll go and—” “There were Inquisition soldiers mixed in amongst the assassins,” interrupted Solas. “Not converts. Just men angry about losing the Qunari alliance to save the Chargers. You should head it off now, Commander, unless you want a full blown insurrection on your hands. There are a few left in the training yard, but they are not the only ones who attacked Krem.” “Did you hear rumblings of this?” Cullen muttered to Leliana, even as he strode toward the door. She shook her head. “This is ridiculous!” cried Dorian. “We’re assaulted everywhere we go, at least we ought to be safe in our own hold. Among our own forces.” “I did warn the Inquisitor when we arrived that having such a public presence would entail some risk,” muttered Leliana. Dorian scowled and pushed Solas gently aside to inspect Krem. “The Inquisitor can’t be here constantly to keep order, that’s your jobs,” he said. “Don’t blame her.” “But I am to blame, Dorian. It is my decisions that caused this.” The Inquisitor half reached for Krem, her mana already gathering in her palms. Solas could see the little muscle in her jaw working and the nervous, quick movements in her fingers. She was deeply distressed. Whether it was because of the attempted assassination or Dorian’s anger or Krem’s state, he couldn’t have said. Probably all of them, though Bull seemed calm and whole. “Why has no one seen to you?” she asked Krem. “Solas, why haven’t you aided him?” “He did. Helped me pummel the louts,” said Krem. “Don’t rightly know who I can trust in the Inquisition just now. And— I’d rather people who know me.” “I’m so sorry,” said the Inquisitor. “Is there no one here you would be comfortable with?” “The Chief can set the bone. He’s done it before.” “But the other injuries— they could be worse than they appear.” Krem hesitated. “Apart from— well, you— Dorian, maybe.” “You still trust me?” asked the Inquisitor. Krem grinned, though it appeared painful. “I don’t see why you’d sacrifice an alliance just to send idiots after the Chargers when we got back to Skyhold. Unless you didn’t want the alliance in the first place.” Krem glanced at Solas. “Him— I could see where that could be. But all you had to do to back out of an alliance was not show up. We signed on until this is through. I trust you.” Solas felt a sting at the idea he’d stir up an angry mob to attack the Chargers. The rest, he couldn’t deny. “I think I’d better handle it, sorora,” said Dorian. “You have assassins to track. And I’m not letting Bull or Krem out of my sight until Skyhold’s secure again.” He turned from Krem toward the Inquisitor, pinning her with an angry glare. “They were trying to kill them, sorora. Don’t let Bull’s nonchalance lull you. These were murderers. How many of them did you kill, Solas?” he asked without looking toward him. “As of yet, none,” he admitted. “I believed them more valuable to Leliana alive.” “Hmm,” said Dorian. “You go ahead and finish it. I’ll bring their corpses back to talk.” “Dorian!” cried the Inquisitor. “He is not wrong, Vhenan,” said Solas. “They are murderers. And even if we root out the Qunari spies, the others, the ones native to the Inquisition will remain to try again. Resentment like this does not fade. It only grows stronger and more dangerous. You want to spare them? Then eject them from the Inquisition forces. Otherwise— Dorian and I will handle them if Cullen and Leliana do not.” “No need to get messy,” Leliana said evenly. “It will be over before morning.” “A somniari is never messy,” muttered Dorian, getting an arm under Krem’s good one. “Even when the situation deserves it. Come, Amatus. We have a friend to heal.” He led Bull and Krem back down the hallway.

It was late when Dorian descended into the rotunda. Long after Leliana had interrogated her agents among the soldiers and Cullen had those foolish enough to remain and defiant enough to declare themselves a part of the gang who’d attacked Krem thrown into the stocks. Long after the Inquisitor had called all of Skyhold together for a reckoning among themselves and declared those who participated unwelcome. A few hours before dawn and the candles guttering and still Solas waited while Dorian paced and muttered in the library above. At last, Dorian strode down the stairs, his staff in one hand and a bedroll in the other. “Well?” he asked. “Are you ready to go hunting or not?” “I am ready,” said Solas. “Where’s your bedroll then?” Solas picked up the staff that he had leaned against the desk hours ago. “I don’t need it.” “Right, you can sleep anywhere. Well some of us—” “We aren’t going to do this the somniari way,” said Solas. “What?” cried Dorian, “I thought you agreed with me! You stood at Krem’s side, you saw what they were willing to do.” “I did. I do. And you’re right. This situation deserves messy. It will discourage others from following these men into folly. Leliana will try to keep too many alive, thinking she can get information out of them. The Commander and the Inquisitor will spare too many, thinking they can change them. You and I both know that men like these will not change and are too ignorant to give Leliana anything useful.” “You didn’t hold back for Leliana’s sake earlier did you?” realized Dorian. “No. I held back for Bull’s sake. And Krem’s. But everyone in the keep has seen how injured Krem is. He’s a threat to no one. And the Chargers are all absent. I arranged for Varric and Sera to start up a public game of Wicked Grace in the tavern tonight. By now they are three hands in and Bull is right in the heart of it. None of them will be blamed for what we do tonight.” “We will,” said Dorian. “Yes.” “You’re okay with that? The Inquisitor will be upset.” “She is more upset that Bull and Krem were attacked than she would be by bringing their attackers to justice. They were given the opportunity to flee. If they have not departed yet, then they are fair game.” Solas leaned forward. “But I am willing to do this alone, Dorian, if you would rather—” “No.” Dorian’s hands flashed and a soft illusion fell over them. “Let’s begin, while we still have a few hours of darkness left.”

#solas #lavellan #dorian #Krem #dragon age inquisition

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