DDO/Dragon Age: Deathstage

[Ataris]

Coryn had been extremely careless to let the plate take him off guard like that. His fall was an extremely hard one, and that mixed with his anger did not make a good combination. Still, he was right about one thing. A Paladin was willing to help him up. Of course, the scene that unfolded before him allowed him another look at the instability of human society.

 

He said nothing, but merely nodded at the Paladin, and then turned back to Drathart. The man looked very happy about something, although he tried to hide it. Perhaps no one else noticed, but Coryn had spent too many years on the streets not to be able to read people, at least to an extent. There was something strange about this man.

 

Still, he approached and reached out his hand for a shake. When the man reciprocated, Coryn held on to the other man's hand with an iron grip.

 

"So tell me just how we are going to find this warlord," he said.

[Tysyacha]

"We will find him the way any Mabari War Hound finds its prey: we hunt."

 

He turned to the Elf. Good. The Pawn has made his move, and it is two steps forward. Not only did he shake my hand in return for my own gesture of comradeship, but he grasped it with the strength of iron, promising betrayal or mutiny in the end. Lucien Drathart smiled. Just as I expected.

 

"The Paladin and her--foreign ilk--allow time for sleep, preferring to amble about aimlessly once the dawn has broken. We shall do no such thing. Warlords do their own hunting at night, and that is why we must set out now. If we must slumber, we shall do so for only a few hours at a time. You're an Elf. Surely you have enough hardiness to endure such a schedule?" Reading no response on the young Dalish's face, Drathart nodded. "Yes, then. Move out!" He pointed towards the door, drawing the curiosity of onlookers.

 

Why was the Vicar, keen and newly-promoted, taking that with him?

[CommanderQ]

Krahl stared out at the hideous image in front of him. Of course, it didn't seem hideous to him, but a regular peasant would be revolted, and no doubt regurgitating.

 

The image was a row of heads.

 

The Paladin's heads.

 

The ones that Cedric's men had killed. Krahl felt a need to show an example of what happens if his will is resisted. Hopefully, the Holy Order of Paladins would pay strict attention, and not resist the inevitable.

 

They had placed the heads in front of the next village they had burned. This time, they took no prisoners, destroying everything, and stealing food, livestock, any form of riches, everything.

 

Krahl pulled on his horse's reigns and began to trot over to his troops.

 

"We'll set up camp here tonight. Half the men are to sleep, the others are to form a perimeter around the ruins....I want 3 scouts set up in the trees in the woods, blow up a red flare if you see any intruders. We need to be ready."

 

Cedric saluted and began to order the men back and forth.

 

Krahl dismounted and led his horse over to a wooden post, where he lashed the reigns to the wood, so the horse wouldn't run off.

 

He then went about setting up camp, and planning the next move.

[Cyborg Ninja]

Zero turned his head to the man who got the Elf to follow him and just stared at him. There was something odd about him, he'd have to keep and eye on him. He nodded his head at Shakhamty's thanks to him. He listened on what she said about this cult and didn't like what he heard. People were being murdered at night and they wanted to wait until daylight.

 

"How can anyone sleep knowing there are murderers out there. I can't sit by and let innoncents die. I'm The Scarlet Spider, I defend the good from the wicked."

[Alkonium]

"Certainly. I've always had my doubts about cults, and this one sounds particularly bad." Alkonium commented. "I agree. There are plenty of other adventurers like us in Stormreach, and this seems more important. That, and I'm starting to get tired of the curious looks from all these Paladins. Other than from you, of course." Nierra told Shakhmaty. Seeing the spectacle between Shakhmaty and that other Paladin, Alkonium felt compelled to ask her, "Does that happen often?"

[Ataris]

Coryn made sure not to show any emotion on his face. Of course, by now this had become almost an involuntary action, but he didn't want Drathart to know what he was thinking. He was studying the man's face, trying to figure out anything that he could about him. Unfortunately, this time the man had clear control of his countenance, and obviously that was the end of it.

 

Not particularly enjoying where this was going, Coryn followed Drathart anyway. The man was a priest, after all. Still, it only added to Coryn's hesitation around religious people. In particular, it made him think of the new cult springing up.

 

The Deathstage was coming. And here Coryn was, longing for his revenge on the man that slaughtered his entire village. But perhaps this could gain him something valuable....

 

Following Vicar Drathart out the door, Coryn grasped the amulet around his neck. Should the time come, he knew that he was not defenseless. No one in these parts knew of his abilities, and hopefully that would work to his advantage. But for now, it was time to find this warlord. This might be kind of fun.

[Tysyacha]

Shakhmaty snorted. "No. He's a rawblade, a recruit that hasn't even passed his first year of training. Most of us are promoted within the first few months after our first year, to the Second Rank of Four, as I have been. Not he. As you can see, he lacks the proper discipline and respect for others that truly qualifies you as a Holy Knight. He seems to want the glory and the power--not to mention the divine gift of laying on of hands--but not the humility or the responsibility. Let us retire." She looked at Zero sadly. "I am sorry," she said, "but trying to stumble over tree roots and rocks in the dark will do no wonders for my balance or my throbbing head." She winced in sudden pain, stumbling backwards and almost crashing into a pillar, chainmail and all.

 

"I need rest," she said softly. "I can do no good in my present condition."

 

Closing her eyes, she hoped and prayed that her new companions agreed...

 

**************************************

 

Tracks. Hunting required a keen eye and a honed bow--not to mention sharp arrows that met their mark--but when it came to locating prey, tracks were almost sacred. Without them, how could you ever hope to find your quarry?

 

It was easy to scout out the tracks of the warlord, Krahl. The muddy prints, the burning hovels and straw huts, and especially the heads on spikes--these were the marks of his territory, and his conquests. Finding them was easier than catching fish in a barrel. Finding him, however, was another matter. How long would it be before Drathart and the Elf met Krahl face-to-face? There was only one way to find out: cast a spell that would act as a flare. If Krahl or his scouts were anywhere nearby, they would see it and either go to investigate it themselves or send some other lackey to do it.

 

Thus, the Vicar cautioned: "Stand aside." He cast a blaze of Holy Light into the air, illuminating the night sky with a sun that only lasted a few seconds. No one who was paying any attention to the nearby firmament would miss it. Even those who had been staring at the ground would be half-dead not to hear the hiss-pop! sound that the spell made. This was all too easy...

[CommanderQ]

A loud hiss and short pop of a flare woke Krahl from his sleep. He immediatley stood and already in his armor. He grabbed his sword off of his horse and then looked at the red light in the sky, and he saw that his soldiers had awoken as well.

 

"ALARM! EVERYONE! TO YOUR POSTS! CAVALRY! COVER THE FLANKS!"

 

He mounted his horse, untying the reigns and lifting his sword in the air, the sign for his men to rally.

 

Suddenly, he saw the three scouts that had been setup in the trees.

 

"You three! What are you doing here so soon?"

 

"Forgive us, Milord...but the flare that was launched was not ours...."

 

Krahl acknowledged their mistake, but it wasn't their fault..so he wouldn't punish them...yet.

 

"Fine....join the perimeter defense...we'll find out who launched the flare....and kill them for disrupting my army's rest..."

 

He spurred the horse forward, beginng the search.

[Tysyacha]

((Can we please start over? I have TOTALLY screwed up the Dragon Age lore without meaning to--in several respects, from my very first post onward. I've since 'done my homework,' so to speak. Please don't totally hate me!))

[Alkonium]

(We could do that, or, we could just write it off as "taking a few liberties". After all, I'm pretty sure there's no real link between Eberron and Ferelden.)

[Tysyacha]

((I just came up with this idea for a villain that's way cooler than Lucien, for starters, and I think you'll think she's cooler, too. You see, in the Dragon Age world, mages are feared because they can summon spirits from the Fade, or spirit world. Some mages are attracted to Blood Magic, which means they can fuel their magic powers with their own blood and control the minds of others. I can just imagine a Blood Mage, an apostate on the run from the Templars of the Chantry, using her minions--and undead corpses--to become the Second Blight. What do you think? Also, a lot of mages get the Blood Magic talent by making a pact with a demon, so this mage is POSSESSED!!!))

[Alkonium]

(Well, who says there has to be only one villain?)

[Tysyacha]

((What do the rest of you guys think? Tired...need some sreep. ))

[Cyborg Ninja]

((I agree with Alkonium, there's nothing wrong with two villians. That just gives us another challenge.))

[CommanderQ]

((TWO VILLAINS! I SAY 2!!!))

[Tysyacha]

((Okay! Now then--back to our regularly scheduled DDO/Dragon Age RP! I'll try to include the ACTUAL Dragon Age lore as best I can now...))

 

Lucien Drathart's blood ran cold for a moment. He heard angry noises in the distance--the noises of Krahl and the men at his camp rallying to arms. I seem to have made a mistake, he thought to himself, but with the right words and the application of guile, even a mistake can turn into a golden opportunity. He turned to the Dalish Elf, squatted down, and said:

 

"This is our chance. Even I believe that the warlord and his men are going to try and kill us if they find us, and so that's why we're going to pretend to be their prisoners for a moment. Once we're at their camp, that is where we're going to spring a trap. I'm going to try and recruit Krahl to join our side, because there are...objectives...which I wish to accomplish sooner rather than later. Once Krahl is recruited, and once he has helped us fulfill our aims, then we'll kill him. We'll give him over to the King if need be, in order for him to be hanged, drawn and quartered, but I would rather we kill him first."

 

After a pause, he continued, "You will have your revenge, Elf. We both will. You will have yours upon Krahl himself, and I will have mine upon...the people I will recruit Krahl and his marauding army to remove beforehand. One more thing: I am going to cast a spell upon us, the most powerful one I know, in order to protect us from death for a limited time. Through my strength of will and mental fortitude, I can make it last a single hour, but no more."

 

He raised his arms. "Dava, gibora, vespa!" The magnificent spell was cast, and a nearly-invisible shield of invulnerability enveloped the both of them. Krahl would not be able to slaughter them now, nor his men, unless they kept them prisoner for more than an hour. After that--all bets were off.

 

Finding a pennant nearby--a light-colored pennant, if not white--he waved it toward the nearest scout of Krahl's and cried, "A truce! We surrender!" A trap, more likely, he thought to himself, and we'll never truly surrender. However, I suspect that Krahl is bloodthirsty enough that he'll fight for anyone and any cause, as long as he gets to go to war. That's our 'trump card,' and that's the card we'll play in this particular case--the Pawn and I.

 

It wasn't long before the Vicar and the Elf were completely surrounded by enemy fighters and scouts. "Take us to Krahl," they said. The men complied.

[Tysyacha]

As Shakhmaty, Nierra, Alkonium, and the rogue Zero slept--it being nearly midnight--the young Paladin, the 'rawblade' who had thrown the dirty plate at the Dalish Elf, stood before the leader of them all and asked, perturbed:

 

"What did I do wrong?"

 

"You know your error, rawblade. Even though Elves are lesser pagan beings that need to hear the Chant of Light in order to be saved, it is still cruel and compassionless to mock them as you did. You threw your soiled plate at that Dalish just as ignorant and unenlightened people threw stones at the first Priestesses and Priests of the Chantry! That is why you haven't been promoted to the Second Rank of Four. You're a poor Paladin."

 

The recruit scoffed. "Paladin! That's not even an official term in the Church."

 

"Indeed. We call ourselves Holy Knights, yes, but we are truly Berserkers and Templars. The former call upon the rage of battle to aid them, increasing their brute strength and stamina so that their foes are completely stunned and overwhelmed. You, on the other hand, are a Templar. What is your duty?"

 

"To hunt mages," he said sourly. "Specifically, to hunt apostate mages."

 

"Aye. Those who do not practice their art within the laws and confines of the Circle of Magi are dangerous, and if caught by Templars, they are to be either killed on sight or captured and put to the torch. Do you know why?"

 

The rawblade rolled his eyes. "Many know Blood Magic," he said, "and that is where you fuel your arcane power with your own liquid of life--an abomination. You can also control the minds of others, including your friends as well as your foes, if you're a Blood Mage. To get to do Blood Magic, although it is not fully necessary, several mages make a pact with a demon."

 

"Indeed. Then they are possessed, and they themselves become monsters. You have learned well, rawblade, but you lack the compassion and humbleness that you need to truly rise within our ranks. Understand?"

 

"Yes, sir." Bowing his head, the recruit retreated sullenly to his chambers.

 

The leader of the Paladins sighed. He was a Templar himself, and he was training the rawblade to be one. Still, with him as his colleague--disaster!

 

((NOTE: Berserkers and Templars, and what they do, are official DA:O lore!))

[Alkonium]

In the bed so generously provided by the church, Nierra couldn't sleep at all, too troubled by the thought of being the only one of her kind. There have to be other Drow in Ferelden, I can't be the only one. She thought. Why do I even care? I've never liked other Drow. Maybe it's that feeling that I'm alone in this world, but I'm not. I've still got Alkonium, right?

[Ataris]

All this tracking was making Coryn very tired, and he wished that it would stop. Finally, Drathart suggested casting a flare spell. How a priest was able to have such knowledge of magic, Coryn did not know. The important thing was that he did know of Coryn's abilities yet. And that was key.

 

The warlord's army did not take long to find them. Upon Drathart's suggested invulnerability spell, Coryn nearly started laughing, but controlled himself. Again, he grasped the amulet around his neck. Such a simple thing, that provided so much....

 

Rather than argue, Coryn went along with Drathart's plan. After all, what better way to get closer to the warlord? While the two of them likely could have killed all of the soldiers along the way, having seen Drathart's ability with magic, this would make things much easier--and provide Coryn the upper-hand should anyone betray him.

 

*****

 

They had been dragged along for quite a while now. The invulnerability spell Drathart had cast on them was still quite active. Coryn could feel the magic flowing through him, and into the--

 

In the distance, a loud shout was heard. Probably one of the sentries. And there, not too far away, Coryn noticed a figure clad in all black armor, even sporting a very intimidating helmet. The look almost managed to scare even Coryn.

 

It seems that they had arrived at the warlord's camp.

[CommanderQ]

Cedric came over to Krahl's side.

 

"Sir...we've got them...whoever they are, the troops say that the prisoners wish to speak to you."

 

Krahl dismounted his horse and began to walk towards the group that surrounded the prisoners.

 

He made it there quickly, and his men parted for him, giving him alot of room.

 

"Who are you!? And who wanted to speak!! Don't waste my time, or I'll finish yours!"

[Tysyacha]

Lucien Drathart, usually deep and eloquent in his sermons at the Cathedral, decided to forgo all the art of his speeches and get right to the point. "Do you like to kill, warlord? Do you like to see the weak exterminated and the strong enhanced through eradicating them? Do you like to see fools suffer their due, which is being trapped like a rat and then being disposed of like one? If so, I have a proposition for you--one which you may find appealing."

 

"As you know, in Ferelden there are those who refuse to work for their daily bread. They beg, which is weakness; they sell themselves, which is carnality; or they steal, which is the worst crime of all--preying upon honest men. My proposition to you is this. Under my banner, in the name of the Chantry and all that is good and holy--not that you would care, of course--I would like you to sweep the filth from the streets of Ferelden and wash them clean with the blood of the very wretches of whom I speak. King Cailan shall not know of this, but he shall be much relieved when he finds there is no more crime within his kingdom. There are several quarters where the rats congregate. Wipe them out. In return? Name your price. I could offer you gold, but you scoff at it. I could offer you land, but you won't use it. I could offer you salvation, but you believe in no god but yourself. What, then, do you want?"

 

*********************************

 

Shakhmaty awoke with a start, sensing something dark within a dream. In her mind's eye, she saw a lonely silhouette, much taller and thinner than her own. The shadow swirled within an acrid smoke, a spaceless void where her isolation was her torment.

 

Sensing the pain of one nearby, she crept to Nierra's room and sat down on the bed. Was the Dark Elf only pretending to be asleep? Softly, the Paladin Berserker whispered:

 

"I, too, am the only one of my kind. I am quite close to having the talent of a Blood Mage, without the demonic pact that is commonly the price of such a thing. I can sense the thoughts of those nearby, though not read them outright. I can attune my awareness to the tide of events, and sometimes predict them before they happen. If the Paladins knew of my true nature, my 'soul's gift', they would think it a curse of the infernal regions and have me put to the torch. I am not of your race, but I find it beautiful. I am not of your heritage, being human, but I respect all sentient beings. In loneliness, I am your ally, and in isolation I shall be your sister if you wish it. Know this: I shall stand with you, whatever comes, and with your fellow soldier as well." She stood up, blowing out the candle near Nierra's bed. Her long hair gently brushed the Elf's neck.

[CommanderQ]

"As you know, in Ferelden there are those who refuse to work for their daily bread. They beg, which is weakness; they sell themselves, which is carnality; or they steal, which is the worst crime of all--preying upon honest men. My proposition to you is this. Under my banner, in the name of the Chantry and all that is good and holy--not that you would care, of course--I would like you to sweep the filth from the streets of Ferelden and wash them clean with the blood of the very wretches of whom I speak. King Cailan shall not know of this, but he shall be much relieved when he finds there is no more crime within his kingdom. There are several quarters where the rats congregate. Wipe them out. In return? Name your price. I could offer you gold, but you scoff at it. I could offer you land, but you won't use it. I could offer you salvation, but you believe in no god but yourself. What, then, do you want?"

 

Krahl cocked his head to the right as he walked toward the loud-mouth priest, as his clothes identified him as, who had just spoken.

 

He used his tall height and muscular frame to make him more intimidating, not that he needed to, he was an ominous figure even when he wasn't trying.

 

Krahl grabbed the priest's, or Vicar's, decorative collar and lifted him up.

 

"You are in no position to negotiate anything, scum...."

 

He threw him down to the ground.

 

"But it just so happens that this perks my interest.......but I don't know if you can pay me for it..."

 

He stared down at the priest, "Because I doubt even you can give me the power to control everything...to lord over everyone."

[Cyborg Ninja]

Zero tossed and turned in this new bed. He wasn't used to sleeping in a bed such as this. It was much more comfortable than his own bed so it should give him a better sleep. The problem was that it wasn't his bed, it was someone else's. By sleeping in such a fine bed he was pretending to be something he was not. He would be acting like a higher up when in reality he wasn't. Not only that but he couldn't get the cult of out his head either. Just picturing people getting killed without being able to fight back made him sick. He sat up in the bed and looked around at the dark room. He knew it would be foolish to go out on his own but he could not just sleep right now. He got out of the bed and decided to take a look around the place. He wanted to get familiar with the place in case he ever needed to take a little trip here. He his cape, cloves and mask where they were and let his face take a break from it for once. He ran his hand through his blonde just to make sure it was still there. He rubbed his blue eyes and tried to adjust to the dark. After a few minutes, Zero could see. He exited his room and began to walk around. He knew no one would be out so he decided to take his time. He walked only a short distance before he heard a sound. He turned his head to see a figure making its way towards the hallway. He jumped at a wall and leapt at the ceiling. He spread his arms and legs to keep himself balanced to watch the figure. He was surprised to see Shakhamty leave her room to go into someone elses. Curious, he leapt down and leaned up against the wall. He wanted to make sure she wasn't up to anything suspicious, than again he too was out of his room. He leaned his head and whispered into the room.

 

"It's pretty late Shakhmaty, why's someone like you up at this wonderful hour?"

[Alkonium]

Nierra heard every word of Shakhmaty's little "speech", but continued to act as though she was asleep. However, she couldn't help but feel something when the Paladin's hair brushed against her neck. There was something she always found appealing about human hair.

 

That morning, Alkonium approached Nierra, who looked visibly unwell. "You look tired." He commented. "I had a rough night." She explained. "Listen, I know you think you're alone out here, but you're not. I feel even less kinship with these humans than those back in Eberron, and we came through that portal together. We're the only two beings from Eberron in this world, so as far as I'm concerned, we're in this together." Alkonium told her, to which she responded with a hug.

[Tysyacha]

Despite being thrown to the cold, hard ground so forcefully and unceremoniously, the Vicar's eyes brightened. He himself may not have been able to deliver the prize that the warlord wanted in return for practicing his bloody trade, but he knew how to get into the King's good favor. What was more, he knew how to get Krahl into the presence of Cailan Theirin.

 

He was always too naive for my taste, though the Vicar. He still believes in the innate goodness of all creatures, whereas I know that at heart, we are completely evil and depraved. We are worthless, due to all the vices we've committed. We have made ourselves unworthy of the Maker. Once Krahl is King, or rather, when he thinks he has a chance at being King, I'll spring the final trap. I'll betray him to Theirin, and THEN who will be rewarded for his noble deeds? Of course, the Pawn mustn't kill him first...

 

"So you want to be King," smirked the Vicar. "Very well. I am on good terms with His Majesty Cailan Theirin, and you have my glad permission to either make him your slave or impale his head on a spike once you take the throne." There. Did that sound sincere enough? Talk about naivete! Lucien Drathart was fooling himself completely. Not only was he fooling himself into thinking his plan would work flawlessly, but he was also under the delusion that if he didn't deliver on his promise, Krahl wouldn't kill him. Of course he would. However, the Vicar had chosen to block that truth out of his mind.

 

**************************

 

NIGHT

 

"I woke up suddenly," the Berserker Paladin replied, "after a strange state of dreamlessness that unsettled me. Usually, I remember my dreams clear as day, but this time it was different. The void of my unconscious thoughts isn't something I often experience, and it scared me." She was telling the truth. "I also had...a sense...that some of us weren't sleeping peacefully, like the Dark Elf. As a Paladin, I have a strong intuition as to when someone is suffering in silence. I went to tell Nierra that she was not alone in Ferelden...and neither are you." She smiled and closed her robe further. "You may be from an entirely different realm, but you have allies here--namely, the Church and I."

 

She caught herself just in time. "Of course, not all in the Church are friendly."

 

MORNING

 

After a good, honest scrub in the large tub near the fireplace in her room, with good and honest lather and two washrags, Shakhmaty was ready for the day. She donned the lightest pair of armor that she had--some reinforced and yet lightweight leather--before greasing her two short swords and slipping them into the metal sheathes at her belt. If she found a torch, or a magical source of fire, she could and would ignite her blades and fight.

 

She went downstairs to breakfast--bread and water--and then went to see the Archbishop. "Come here," he said as he led her over to a weathered trunk. "These are where all the monk robes are kept, it's true, but there is also a special Investigator's Robe for you, and those who wish to wear it."

 

It was a long, silky, quartz-gray masterpiece, embroidered with the Cross of the Chantry on the lapel. "This is the standard uniform-cloak for Church investigators. Of course, you should wear something underneath it, which you already are, and so now you can be on your way." Shakhmaty smiled, noticing Zero, Alkonium and Nierra in the next room--or she thought she did!