#retrowrites

[retrowondergirl]

WIP Wednesday Friday

Alright time for WIP Wedn- /checks calendar/

Alright time for wip Friday. I re-did chapter 6 of my long fic, In Glory We Rise. So here’s a little snippet of it. Thank you to those who tagged me on Wednesday.

“Good afternoon, Ser,” The rider cheerfully greeted and swiftly saluted, “I am looking for the Herald of Andraste. Do you know where he might be?” The rider wore metal armor that was dark blue fitted with a white sash around his waist, which seemed to hold up a decorative sword by his side, and a notable metal insignia of a horse rising. His dark blue helmet covered his entire face, only his icy blue eyes were visible. Barely. It was a bit fancy but nothing too grandiose, so Cullen naturally assumed he may be just some private guard to some noble.

Cullen raised a brow at the armored rider, his tone was formal and chirpy, and his accent was strange. It sounded both Free Marcher and Ferelden. He couldn’t quite place it but something about the rider felt…off. “The Herald isn’t here at the moment.” Cullen answered curtly.

The rider tilted his head, “Do you know when he would return then?” he cheerily inquired.

“It’s hard to say.” Cullen mumbled, his voice so quiet the rider leaned in to hear. Cullen sighed and spoke to the armored rider with a more loud but respectful tone, “You should speak to the others in the Chantry,” he pointed to the building, “They will more likely know more about his whereabouts.“ He said as he returned back to his duties.

“If I may ask once again, who will these people be?” The rider chirpily inquired.

“The Ambassador, the Seeker, or the Spymaster.” Another curt response. Cullen could’ve sworn he heard the rider mutter, “Some help you are,” as he rode off to the Chantry.

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[retrowondergirl]

After a long while, I have returned with a snippet. Enjoy.

Unmarked carriages are usually not a good sign.

It usually meant smugglers, bandits waiting to ambush, or if you’re unlucky, assassins.

‘Wait, assassins? Maker, please don’t tell me…’ Almost as if the Maker himself answering Eamon’s silent question, the carriage door swung open and that familiar idiotic smile greeted the crowd.

Long, dark brown hair blowing against the wind and his chestnut eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement.

He still stood on the carriage’s threshold and swung one of his arms high in the air; an exaggerated wave.

“Buongiorno ai miei nuovi amici!”

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[retrowondergirl]

Poor Eamon. Trekked the Frostback Mountains, Haven destroyed, and now everyone arguing around him.

“I failed,” he murmured, his voice tangled with uncertainty and fear, “just like…” he sighed, closed his eyes then opened them to look at Gieselle again, her face still serene as ever.

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[retrowondergirl]

Thank you @noire-pandora, @cleverblackcat, and @a11sha11fade for tagging me!

This is after Eamon saw the mysterious rider. Also his horse is very smart and good

His stomach twisted and turned then dropped with dread, his usual steady breathing to keep his horse calm became ragged and commands hitched at his throat, his gloved fingers tightened around the reins; a slight pull, almost as if he was afraid to go to Haven. Afraid of what he might discover. Rhiannon suddenly burst into a full sprint like she was racing another’s horse. It was as if she knew what Eamon was thinking and could not stand to watch her master ponder on such horrid things.

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[retrowondergirl]

Welcome to a late night Wip Wednesday with your host, me. Anyway here’s Eamon being cheeky. Of course this is still a WIP so it may change later.

“On the contrary, Herald,” the masked noble intervened, “we are discussing of your potential wedding.”

Eamon raised his right brow. He didn’t expect proposals so soon. “I see. And how would this be beneficial to the Inquisition, hmm?” He questioned as the corners of his lips and eyes curled with slight amusement.

The noble paused for thought, raised a finger as if he was about to say something then another pause.

“Have you not thought about what you would offer in this proposal you’ve made?” It was more of a mock than a jest and it seemed the noble took notice of his impish tone, a slight click of the tongue could be heard behind his mask.

“Of course I have! Do you think of me as a fool?!” The noble shouted resulting in some whispers from the others surrounding them.

A sly smirk formed, “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” Stifled snickering could be heard from the other nobles to Eamon’s obvious play of words.

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[retrowondergirl]

I missed Six Sentence Sunday because I was way too tired. But I do got something for today.

Leliana’s attention went back to Eamon, his tone was a low growl like a wolf warning you to back off. She could see a deadly glare replace his usual grinning emeralds and his hand tightened the arm of the chair. It surprised her a bit, but little did she know, it surprised him most of all.

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[retrowondergirl]

/checks calendar/ Alright time Wip Wednesday. /throws wip snippet on table/ :3

Cullen hummed in disbelief, he was right not to trust what Eamon said to him, but if he told him then his life would be in jeopardy as well; he can’t allow that. Not again.

“Templars! The templars are coming!” A scout shouted across Haven as the tired templars came into view. Many stopped and watched as they slowly made their way here. A sigh of relief left Cullen’s throat and patted Eamon’s shoulder, a small smile tugging his scar. “To be honest, Herald, I wasn’t that confident you would convince the templars to join our cause.”

“Well, saving them from a demon and certain damnation from the Order was enough to persuade them.” Eamon smirked.

Cullen’s eyes widened, “Wha-“

“Mages! The mages are arriving!” Another shout boomed across Haven from the other side, which resulted in the people of the village muttering amongst each other. No doubt fearful whispers of what may unfold between the two parties. The uneasy air was replaced with an electrifying tingle, calming the whispers as it grows. Cullen could feel the air suddenly changing as well, just like when he met the Herald’s sister.

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[retrowondergirl]

One word: PARKOUR!

The masked man laughed and the two reached a window, their pace never slowing. The masked man jumped out of the window followed by the cloaked man. Both landing on the red tiled roof, rolling then running once more.

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