silent knife, unholy knife

encased in case i need it in my stomach, for my heart chain mail une immense espérance a traversé la terre une immense espérance a traversé ma peur • • • { rogue | mahariel } indie dalish origin blog

[wyattcousland]

          “Aye,” Wyatt says with a nod. Wyatt is just fine—more than, even. Though pride surges through him due to his own last name, it is now a name he relates to loss, and he is not ready to deal with said loss. Not yet.

          Deciding he could be doing other things while he stands here speaking to Eralyn, Wyatt shrugs off the shield on his back, and unhooks the blade strapped to his hip. “You mentioned arrows, yes? How long have you been using a bow,” He asks as he begins to inspect his weaponry. Wyatt stops suddenly, looking up at Eralyn. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course,” He adds before continuing his inspection.

[lethallxn]

          She bites back the I do mind and succeeds in            not looking as if she's supremely thoughtful           about this entire endeavor, eyeing his sword and           shield for a moment before drawing her own bow           from her back as if mirroring him. An eye for an           eye, displaying weaponry for weaponry. An entirely           legitimate strategy.

          "Since I was old enough to hold one. Without shooting           myself in the leg." A wry curve to her lips. "Every Dalish           hunter is meant to hunt and bring back a pelt before they           are ultimately considered a full hunter. So it was. And so           I am." She shifts her gaze to her bow, carefully eyeing every           line of finish. "And you, with your sword?" 

[gwendolineamell]

Gwen stills, flushing just a bit at being called out, “Well, sometimes truths are terrible?” She looks down at her hands for a moment at the question, and thinks her answer through carefully, “I am intensely curious about the Wilds. I’ve read about it for years.” Her head tilts slightly as her eyes raise slightly to meet the strangers, “But I’m still nervous. Many things can go wrong there. And I’ve never actually faced Darkspawn.” Her hands twist for a few moments before she consciously stills them and folds them as she glances away, not mentioning that she’d have felt more comfortable with the whole idea of she wasn’t going to be the only Mage in the party heading into the Wilds.

[lethallxn]

          "The truth is nothing but the truth." It's not stated           rudely, just simply; if Eralyn is growing a little           tolerant of her, maybe just a bit, it's only tolerance.           Not fondness. Not friendliness.

          "I don't imagine that it could be all too different from           facing anything else." She neglects to mention her           connection to the darkspawn that has already been made,           the sickening repulsion of something wrong in her blood           that is still just there waiting underneath the surface. It           should be remedied soon, but how soon that soon is has           yet to be seen. At least she's no longer sick. "A bit more...           intimidating, to be sure."

[xbloodbath]

Armored feet pause in their stride, the party of soldiers she’s following aimlessly behind disappearing into the raucous throng that bears the banners of King Cailan and Ferelden. It’s certainly a bit odd to be approached out of the blue, though she has to expect customs to be a little bit different this far from the Blasted Hills. At the very least the elf is someone to talk to after losing track of the Warden that had invoked the Right all those miles ago.

Toes flex as much as they can, blisters and bruises on the pads of her feet aching and sending a pain that shoots through her calloused soles. This is the first she’s heard of any excursion into the Wilds, but one can guess that the Wardens had some sort of trial in mind. A brief moment of silence presents itself as thoughts are organized, and lips part to reveal a quiet, accented voice, a hard edge of militant formality ingrained within and indestructible.

"I certainly hope so, though I would much rather find my way to a cot.”

[lethallxn]

          There is something of a standoff for a moment,           as if replies are being measured, and then Eralyn           is blinking once, twice. This one does not look as           if she is too weathered to this scene after all, it only           makes sense.

          Even so, her lips press tight as if she's been given           a confusing answer, and fingers lace behind her back.

          "Of course," she says, "abelas." It's stiff, but it's           something. "I've not the faintest where your cot is.           But if you ask the man standing next to the fire that           appears as if it might just burn us all to the ground,           darkspawn threat included, you might find yourself           in luck." 

          And that's about as helpful as she's going to be.

          "Ah. And I'll be one of your allies in the upcoming           excursion -- Eralyn Mahariel. That, too, can be found           with Duncan."

[lethallxn]

[ aaaay so i'm here but i figure now is as good a time as any to say i have an inquisitor blog i'm fairly active on too? 8D arivis is much easier to approach than eralyn. i promise ]

[gwendolineamell]

Gwen pulls a slight face, she’s not overly fond of Daveth. He tends to set her on edge in a way that reminds her of the one Templar that she’d always tried to avoid the most. Which she tries to remind herself isn’t fair, it isn’t Daveth’s fault that Cullen always creeped her out. Although it is his fault that he seems to be unable to keep from alienating the women he meets. 

She shrugs slightly, “He’s made his own bed in that way.” She’s quiet for a beat, “I am. It’s nice to know that it won’t just be Jory, Alastair and Daveth that I’ll be going with.” She’s quiet for a few moments, “That must sound terrible.”

[lethallxn]

          Daveth, so thinks the elf, is something frustrating, something           angering, something that stokes the embers that still burn           viciously enough to cause her to make a face -- displeased, and           the slightest amount of hostility in her gaze as she glances over           in the vague direction of the man. Gone, now, but out of sight,           out of mind does not apply here. 

          However, the honest admission from the other brings something           of a smile to her face, and there is a real amusement there, even           if it is a short puff of a sound that escapes. There and away again.

          "It sounds true," Eralyn corrects Gwen, and this one is more to her           liking. Pleasantries, and with a sharp (or keen enough, at least) eye.           "Are you not looking forward to the Wilds?"

[gwendolineamell]

lethallxn

[gwendolineamell]

Gwen is quiet as she watches the dark haired man stalk away from the fuming elf. She hesitates for a few moments, considering not approaching but it seems silly at this point not to introduce herself. She steps forward finally, hands crossed in front of her and her face almost apologetic. “Daveth is an acquired taste.” Her frown is slight as she turns to watch him again, “One that I haven’t personally made any effort towards gaining.” 

Her eyes flick towards the elf again, “I can, however say that he’s not a good representation of the other recruits.” She smiles then, easier, “I’m Gwen.”

[lethallxn]

          She doesn't jump. She doesn't jump, she simply moves a           bit more suddenly to look towards the human who has found           her way towards the elf. Eralyn's anger dissipates in a bitter           confusion then, brows drawn taut together. The only one to           approach her so far has been Duncan. Her surprise is no           doubt written across her face.

          "Daveth," Eralyn finally says, "is one who will not have an           overwatch as quickly as he might like." 

          The one who wins the approval of one's archer is the one who           walks away with less arrows in their back, of course. That isn't to           say that Eralyn won't be keeping him alive, but one arrow           glancing off his armor or two wouldn't kill him.

          "My name is Eralyn," she adds, as introduction. "You are to join us,           I expect?"

[wyattcousland]

          The elf takes a while to return his greeting, but Wyatt waits patiently. Though he’s still grieving over what had happened, it’d be in his best interest to make some sort of comrade in arms for when they go to battle. He raises a brow at the tone of her greeting, but it’s forgotten and replaced by a small huff of laughter. “You have my thanks, Mahariel Eralyn.”

          A small grimace shows on his face after saying her name in the joking manner he did. He rubs the back of his neck, the fleshy bit exposed by lack of helm. “My apologies. Times of recent have been…difficult. That probably wasn’t appropriate.” Wyatt shakes his head. “Would you prefer a more formal address?” Much to many’s disapproval, Wyatt believes in equal treatment of the races, and that includes elves—city or Dalish. He does not know this one though, not yet at least. It would be better for him to get the formalities set before jesting with her.

[lethallxn]

          Brows raise in a bit of forethought as she watches his reaction,           the patience and the resulting amusement. She's intrigued on a           rueful level, and does not quite feel hatred as much as she feels           a roiling of other things that she doesn't care to focus upon, not           now. The manner in which he uses for her name is given a blink,           a bit of a bristle, and then she is taken aback -- at an apology.

          "That won't be necessary," she says, and if anything, sounds           perhaps a little abashed. Not sorry... but close enough, maybe.           "Eralyn is fine. As Wyatt is for you?"

          Just checking.

[dorfvir-blog]

Theven stops at the words, a smile that has been hidden away for far too long sneaking out among his features. Light eyes sweep upwards, a small duck of his head signaling his understanding.        ”Ma serannas, adahlen asha.”

It is a breath of fresh air, a calming breeze; the breath before an arrow sunk into his prey. A revelation of joy. His people are sparse. It is a welcome change to see one, once again.

[lethallxn]

          Eralyn is cheered by the reaction and the simple presence           of another as it is; lips curve at the edges in a comfort that           is just enough to be noticed as she relaxes in her chest, as           if something has come loose, finally.

          The slight smile falters, but -- well, the comfort does not.

          "You're the first Dalish I've seen since arriving. All of the other           elves --" 

                              -- are slaves.

          She leaves that unspoken.

[maelhawke-deactivated20171115]

"As funny as that would have been, I’m happy to say they did grow back."

[lethallxn]

          "Shame. I've yet to see one with no eyebrows. A curious sight            that would be."

[dragon-ageroleplay]

Reblog this if you are a Dragon Age roleplay blog

Both OCs and Canon. You will be added to the masterlist

[lethallxn]

xbloodoath

          She isn't the only new Warden to enter Ostagar -- she's already           met one of her companions, and Eralyn assumes it is about time           to do so again, as she catches sight of another unfamiliar face.           Though everyone here is unfamiliar, at the very least it is obvious           as to who is also new. 

          Eralyn's eyes slide over the faces until one sticks out from the           description given to her. Dark hair, bright gaze, a horizontal           once-a-gash, now-a-scar. A death dodged.

          She rolls her shoulders and settles herself; walks up and extends a           hand as Wyatt had done for her previous. 

          "I expect our excursion into the Wilds to go well enough," she says.           As if she would admit to expecting anything else. Too proud to do that.

[maelhawke-deactivated20171115]

"And that’s the story of how I caught Anders’s hair on fire."

[lethallxn]

          "Did his eyebrows ever... grow back, or were they lost as well?" 

[lethallxn]

txmlen replied to your post:[ i can never use an ingame icon of eralyn ffs...

[ i love you, you love me, but i’m also dead. ]

[lethallxn]

For all my roleplay partners:

Never hold your muse back. For real. If your muse wants to lash out at mine, or kiss mine, or tell mine a horrible secret, or slam mine against a wall — go for it. Don’t ever feel like I’ll get your reply and judge you or your muse. 

[lethallxn]

dorfvir replied to your post: [ i can never use an ingame icon of er...

- x - literally me. all my icons of theven are him being a cry baby, or gross with his snarly snarl face. you can’t win. you can never win.

":<"

[deadliestdance]

“Abandon, is it?” Lips curving at her choice of words, Zevran glanced up from his task, his hands drawing the whetstone evenly across his blade as he spoke. “Who am I to care who lives here? So long as they let me be, if they are men or dwarves or cats that walk on two paws? I have had enough of judgment for a dozen lifetimes.”

[lethallxn]

          A brow tilts down as if in thought as she considers the reply, mouth           a fine line of brooding. She saw nothing wrong with cats who had two           paws, firstly, and secondly -- well, she hadn't meant much offense.            Much, anyway. 

          "And if they don't let you be?" 

[lethallxn]

[ i can never use an ingame icon of eralyn ffs look at how concerned she is all the time

child please. i kno ur bff just died. but pls. love yrself ]