ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Sept 13, 2014 15:26:04 GMT -5
Idwal glanced over his shoulder as Calene approached the carved artwork. He was sure that entering this tower would garner some rebuke by the Dalish Elf. After all, Dalish had done worse for less. But all sense of anger that he was expecting seemed to have been replaced with a curiosity and immersion in the piece on the table. "Those figures?" Idwal replied, himself looking back to the carving and thinking hard upon them, "Those figures look as Darkspawn do."
One of his thick fingers lowered towards the carving, although he hovered just above it so as not to slight the Elf. "This one," he pointed at a short thing that had been carved so intricately it bore a snarling mouth with sharp teeth, "Looks like a Genlock." Idwal remembered the beasts aloud, grim and angry that such a thing could even exist upon the surface of Thedas - that it could walk in the light of Lady without retribution, "Snarling things with too many teeth, squat like a Dwarf and built like the Stone they corrupt." His finger flashed up to a taller figure, more in line with the Humans of the opposing army and carved with a horned full helmet. "This one too looks like what they call a Hurlock. Smaller than Avvar, but built like us. Thick and hard to cut through, their armour doesn't make it easier." Finally, he pointed towards the largest figure on the table. Thick horns protruded from its head and even in carved form it looks as if roaring a challange to the rival army. "If I remember correctly, Qunari weren't around either. Makes that an Ogre, big horrible things that tear grown men in half."
He looked back to the Elf, shifting from a deep frown to a slight yet troubled smile. Idly the Avvar stroked the Eagle-headed beast carved into his sword's hilt as he talked. "Dark ones, all of them. I'd bury them all under Korth's bones if I could. I pity the Lowlanders they burnt to ash during the Blight, for the Darkspawn touched upon Avvar soil too. They raided, corrupted and massacred many Keeps in their short time, especially along the Southern Frostbacks. They didn't care who we were: Lowlanders, Avvar. Even the Chasind, so safe in their Wilds, there's not many of them left now."
The Avvar shifted back to the image, this time less revolted at the display and more curious himself - almost matching that of the Elf. "I think I might know what this is. The Second Blight as it is called today. If memory serves correctly - and know that my memory isn't solid, I forgot my own things in this tower - during the Second Blight the Elves of the Dales remained neutral in the conflict. Orlais burned and the Dales secluded themselves away." He turned a judging eye towards Calene, "You'd think the Dalish would teach you why you lost your second kingdom."
Idwal took his equipment from the table, bed roll and a small bag of unimportant travel supplies, exposing a great carving of a Dragon-like creature over the Darkspawn Horde.
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Post by Zenios on Sept 16, 2014 20:29:51 GMT -5
Calene listened impassively as Idwal described the basic darkspawn forms, offered a nod of agreement as he looked to her and cursed them. She wondered if he'd ever fought them before; it was certainly possible, but then again it seemed more likely that he would recognize the varied shapes a little more quickly if he'd seen them in person. Hm. There was certainly more to him than he was letting on, if nothing else, but she could have guessed as much when he started talking with words that belied a rather brutish exterior.
Her expression molded itself into a tight little smile beneath the clear sense of judgment rolling off of Idwal. "As I was told, the Chantry spread lies and provoked war as an excuse to call the Exalted March and wipe out the elvhen. I don't recall anything about a Blight." The elf's face softened a bit, lost some of its defensiveness. "Then again, I've not been Dalish for as long as I'd've liked. And my teacher may have been favoring the elves just a tiny bit." Truth be told, Calene wasn't especially good at remembering the history, whether because of lack of interest or lack of teaching. While she respected the past and how it could shape the future, Calene had always been a little too in-the-now to really care too deeply about her history.
Not that she would ever even think of admitting such to Idwal, of course. For that matter, she'd probably revealed more than she intended already. Perhaps a change of topic was in order--and what better thing to discuss than the dragon-shaped carving Idwal exposed by removing his equipment. "So this must be an archdemon, then?" she asked, drifting over to that portion of the carving. She knew that much, at least, of the darkspawn; maybe not enough to rapidly identify the lesser creatures, but certainly the ones that controlled whole hordes. She'd heard her fair share of tales of heroic Grey Wardens back in Val Royeaux, but those were most likely embellished or flat-out wrong as well.
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ThreeDawg
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Post by ThreeDawg on Sept 20, 2014 11:14:57 GMT -5
"Yes." Idwal stated plainly, glancing once over to the dark form of the Archdemon and the cloud of storms left in its wake. "They have names, but that one escapes me. I just know that this is the Fourth Blight, which it might be, that one was killed by Garahel." Idwal smiled, remembering the stories of his youth that painted the Warden as a hero even to the Avvar. "He united the Anders, Marchers, Tevinters, Orlesians... Even the Avvar, Lowlanders and what was left of Antiva and Rivain after the Blight destroyed them." He turned his eyes back to the Elf, raising a solitary quizzical eyebrow at her, "You should know this story... After all, he was an Elf. A City Elf. I'm sure you grew up on as many stories of his bravery as even I did."
A smile broke out on his face, giving his words an edge of sincerity even if they rung hollow to his previous comments about this period's Elves, "See we share some common ground. Round-Ears, Knife-Ears or Beard-Ears - doesn't matter who you are, you can respect the story of Garavel and his Gryphon.. The brave Crookytail." The avvar let out a short, deep, laugh. His mirth was evident in his idle musings, smile lines creased around his lips as he spoke. "I wonder if it was actually called Crookytail? Seems like a poor name for a Gryphon."
The Avvar looked up, smiling to the stone roof over Calene's head. "We could have used some Gryphon riding Wardens back in the Blight..." He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he looked back to the Elf. All note of mirth had gone and a world weary sadness filled his deep blue eyes, "It's such a shame they're all gone. The Children of the Lady were supposed to be so beautiful, fearsome... Dangerous yet magnificent to behold..." His shoulders shrugged and he hefted the freshly packed good over his shoulder, "It matters little now. Everything is temporary, even the lives of an entire species such as the Gryphons. They may still remain - after all, the Lowlanders and their ilk thought the Dragons were extinct yet we knew they weren't. The Frostbacks have always had Dragons. Let's hope we don't run into one on our trip! Speaking of..." Idwal held his arm out, indicating the door into the tower's ruins. No words were said, but he awaited the Elf patiently.
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Post by Zenios on Dec 13, 2014 2:06:01 GMT -5
[HOOOOO CRAP IT'S BEEN AWHILE LET'S SHAKE OFF THE RUST AND GET THE HYPE TRAIN MOVING AGAIN
Being more serious I'd like to apologize profusely for not only the fact that it took me three freaking months to post, but also that the quality of my writing may be a bit lacking or inconsistent in part because I haven't posted in awhile]
What started as a nod of understanding turned into a brief smile, the change sparked a bit more by Idwal's laugh than the concept of a gryphon being named Crookytail. Perhaps Garahel fancied he had a sense of humor, giving a beast such as a griffon such an underwhelming name. The only other possibility that seemed reasonable was that 'Crookytail' translated as something a bit more respectable in Elvish, but she rather doubted that Garahel, himself another city elf, would have a much better grasp on the language than Calene did. Not that that was saying much, but she had at least spent a few years in the company of the Dalish whereas from what she knew Garahel had had no such practice.
She glanced back up at Idwal as he lamented the lack of griffons in the present day, noted a surprising weight behind the sadness in his eyes. She could certainly sympathize; if nothing besides martial skills, her time with the Dalish had certainly imparted the cityborn elf with a certain respect for the lives of animals. Unlike her new companion, however, she lacked such optimism. It was certainly possible--anything was--that the griffons had indeed not died out, but it seemed rather unlikely that the griffons would be able to do as the dragons did and hide themselves. The world was becoming a bit too small for that.
"I suppose we ought to get under way, indeed," she responded, shifting gears as Idwal gestured to the tower door. Leather creaked and metal clanked as she strode to the door, left the tower behind only half-unwillingly. As much as she would have loved to stay, comb every inch of it, and make sense of the carvings, the two of them had tarried long enough. It was likely at worst that Idwal's quarry moved away with every second, and thus every second they wasted was one they would only have to make up further down the road. Calene took a brief moment to get her bearings, glanced back briefly at Idwal both to make sure he wasn't dawdling too much.
"There ought to be a trail passing through here that will lead us at least as far as the edge of this vale," Calene said to her new companion as she checked to ensure she hadn't lost any of her gear in a not-terribly-uncommon moment of inattentiveness. Whether or not she would be able to navigate them safely through the wilderness to Halamshiral was a bit more questionable, but at the very least she could find a way out of the valley. She supposed she would just have to deal with the extra weight and noise that came with carrying more weapons.
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ThreeDawg
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Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Dec 20, 2014 18:12:24 GMT -5
(How the hell has it been 7 days since you posted? It feels like it's been 2! Anyway, this feels a bit overdue SO LET'S START!)
"A trail?" Idwal sniffed at the thought that his Dalish tracker would use something so mundane as a hunter's trail. Yet, then again, Dalish were the most renowned hunters this side of Navarra. He would have prefered a treck through the wilderness - as straight and true as the Frostback's canyons - but that'd slow them down. "A trail it is." he eventually agreed, falling in line behind the lithe Elf.
The path from the Vale wasn't as 'straight and true' as Idwal would've liked. Calene had them on a trail that looked like it was used by one or two people a year. So thick was the overgrowth that it was hardly a trail at all. A bramble snagged Idwal's boot, causing him to stumble and swear something foul about a Chasind's mother. The trail just kept winding and turning, cutting around ancient trees that had probably stood since before the Dales were a thing. Idwal's back itched, which was a mighty pain, because he couldn't quite reach the spot even if he tried his hardest. So, overall the trip was absolutely horrible.
Then they broke through to a rocky slope, which hugged the river at the exit of the Valley. From there, Idwal could just stare. The Emerald Graves stretched out before them - a forest as far as the eye could see that breached from Halamshiral right down to the edge of Orlais and the known world. It was beautiful, yet thick and forboding. A Wyvern shrieked in the distance, raising the hairs on Idwal's neck. Back... Arms... He played with the scabbard at his back, only the knowledge that the Wyvern was probably hunting miles away keeping him from drawing the bird-headed blade. He turned to Calene, clearly nervous but putting on a brave face to change the subject. "The Avvar say Wyverns are the children of the Lady of the Sky, who once killed a Giant King - a brave son of the Mountain Father. So he cursed them, struck away their wings so they could only stare up and bark at the Dragons. They're not noble - like the Low-Landers think - they're treacherous and deceitful. That's why they kill with poison. Maybe that's why the Low-Landers like them?"
Idwal let out a slight laugh at his joke, shaking his head and continuing down the trail into the Emerald Graves. "What do the Dalish say of Wyverns? Any grand stories?"
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