Who: @blademasterdior Where: Aventia When: Around the 2nd week of the siege Notes: Let me know if you need any changes!
The sudden influx of business Auden suspected would come with the threat on the horizon had finally arrived, and the high elvhen was not especially thrilled to be doing glorified repair work for a bunch of shills. Their commission list was long, and while they craved the excitement of being on the frontlines of a war to rival those they had read about they couldn’t help but think about the loss of income they were incurring. In an attempt to soothe their perpetual impatience and temper the pride that told them they were above this work, Auden tried to focus on the potential their work on the battlefield had to draw new customers.
Not to mention it was a near certainty they would find triumph in their plight against the darkspawn singularly thanks to their enchantments over weapons and armor.
Auden noticed Dior coming from a short distance. They would recognize that over-confident strut anywhere, even if that hadn’t quite been how the boy moved back when they were Auden’s apprentice. That sense of import had been learned, and Auden might have mocked Dior for it if they weren’t partially convinced that an elevated sense of pride was something that had rubbed off from teacher to student. “Ah, the younger Thalasir,” Auden called out, moving to the mouth of the door of the forge they had taken over during their time in Aventia. It had been easy to kick out the previous occupant–no one was better at what they did than Auden. No one had bothered to utter a word of protest. “Hide the swords, a thief approaches.” But their teasing demeanor didn’t last long as they peeled a single arm from where they had crossed their arms across their torso for a familiar, casual side-hug. “Where’s your pretty costume, Dior? I didn’t know you could fight without it.”