If Zahra couldâve compared Crestwood to anything it wouldâve been a strange amalgamation of the Storm Coast⊠and the drearier parts of Ferelden. Whether it was the near-constant rain pelting down on their heads, or the smell of wetness assailing her nostrils, it wasnât something she was acclimated to. Muddy boots, clothes slicked to their skin and hair flattened to their skulls became the norm. What she wouldnât give for a warm fire and dry blanket over her shoulders, though she hadnât complained once since trekking out with Marcy, Vesryn and his companions. Childhood friends?
She wasnât exactly sure, as sheâd just met them and unfortunately hadnât had time to pester them with questions. However, the temptation was there. A small smile played on her lips as she recounted her arrows. Sheâd broken three so far. Pinned and snapped against thick skulls. Theyâd been traveling along the road in search for local bandits in the area. Occasionally they peeled off the mucky route, and ended up walking along old goat trails. Led by the quiet one named Shae. She didnât talk much, which she didnât particularly mind. A small, impish part of her wanted to ask her the inane questions, if only to be a nuisance. Sheâd seen the way sheâd looked at her and Marcy. Unimpressed. Dutiful. How charming.
The other one mightâve entertained her curiosities far better. Apparently from what little sheâd heard from Vesryn and the others, they walked in the presence of their clans First. While sheâd never understood the Dalish hierarchy, she knew a little about it. Mostly from Nixium. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell if she led her astray just to make a fool of her in situations like these, so she offered little input. There was an itch she wanted to scratch about halla; how they tamed them, what they were used for⊠did they taste good?
She hummed low in her throat. An old chantey tune to fill the silence, and the pelting of rain against their shoulders and backs. Perfect for awful weather.
âIâve been meaning to ask while weâre on this bloody jaunt,â she picked at the string of her bow and hastened closer to Zethâs side, eyebrows raised, âwhat a younger Vesryn was like. Was he a troublemaker? A heart breaker? Studious and serious?â
Absurd question or not, these things did cross her mind. Who better to ask then those whoâd known him before?
A laugh escaped Vesryn. A single one, short and clipped. Not his usual style, it was strained and the slightest bit uncomfortable. Touched a nerve maybe, but he was being a good sport about it. Zeth's own eyebrows ascended a little, as though he was pleasantly surprised that she would ask such a thing at all. "Studious and serious? No. Not unless we were dealing with very specific subjects. A trouble maker? Remind me, Ves, how did we find you originally?"
"Bleeding, broken leg, stumbling through the forest." Vesryn didn't seem ashamed to admit it. If anything he looked to be recalling the incident fondly, though his looks were not often all he felt about things. "This was eight years ago or so, Zahra. Not like we were children."
"Broken and bleeding and stumbling," Zeth repeated, smirking. "I would say we knew what kind of trouble we were getting into when we took you in, but we really didn't." He used his staff as a walking stick, the blade on the bottom end slicing into the soft ground with every other step. "And a heart breaker?" His eyes flashed deviously at Zahra. "Oh, absolutely."
"I see you're enjoying this." Vesryn hefted his big axe easily in his hands, though his grip on it was loose, relaxed. Zethlasan smiled back at him.
"One of us should, I think."
Zahra waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. As if she were sharing secrets with a good friend over a fireplace⊠a warm fire, or anywhere dry. Alas, neither accounts were true. Though anyone who was friends with Vesryn could count her as a cheery acquaintance, bow-toting and all. Her smile quibbled into a toothy grin. Even if it was at Vesâ expense, she didnât think heâd mind a little bit of badgering. For someone so good-natured and chipper, he could be tight-lipped about certain things. Sheâd learned that over goblets of ale.
Suppose that not everyone was an open bookâshe certainly wasnât. Not about the things that really mattered. Those were hidden pages, one that not many explored. She, however, frequently enjoyed perusing those pages, if they did not belong to her. Toeing the line of inappropriate had become a game to her. Until someone told her otherwise, it wasnât likely sheâd ever stop. Perhaps, even then she wouldnât.
âEight years can be a long time,â she mused with a much more tempered smile, as if she were stifling laughter but just barely, âZethâs painted quite a good picture. I couldnât really imagine you as studious or serious.â There was a pause, as she picked her path alongside Zeth. She couldnât do much about the mud sucking at her boots, but she could prevent herself from falling face first into it, âYou two seem to get along really well.â
It was a statement. An observation. Nothing more, nothing less.
She wasnât particularly sure where they were even going. Traversing across land was still⊠uncomfortable, especially on foot. It was nothing like navigating the seas. Even then, she hardly had a part in plotting their voyages. She trusted that the others would know where to take them. Theyâd point and sheâd shoot. Simple as that.
âNow a more serious question⊠does it ever stop raining here? Iâm not sure why the bandits would even want to settle here. No offense.â
"The merchants, undoubtedly," Marceline answered from behind them. She was wearing a different cloak than the one she had left Skyhold with, this one the standard issue russet of the Inquisition instead of her usual black and purple ensemble. "They provide easy prey for certain entrepreneurial minds that lack a decent grasp of ethics."
She smiled politely, but Zahra could tell that it was just one of her default expressions, "That is why we are dealing with the issue, after all."
From the front, Shaethra held up a hand and indicated that the group should stop. Along the main road ahead of them, they approached a natural narrowing of the path, as two separate groups of rock formations encroached on one another, leaving a space of about twenty feet between them. Either side was blanketed with thick bushes and other foliage, a few trees here and there further obstructing the view.
Zeth took Shae's warning seriously, his hands closing more tightly around his staff, and Vesryn subtly tensed as well. Shae had her bow currently in hand, an arrow already nocked. With impressive swiftness she drew it back and loosed the arrow, sending it sailing into one of the bushes. It didn't look like anything was there, but a moment later there was a heavy and wet thud, and a low groan as a bandit collapsed outwards from behind it, his body tumbling down the face of the rocks, an arrow embedded in his chest.
About a dozen more bandits charged from their hiding places, no few of them appearing from behind the rock formations they'd been obscuring themselves with. Shae simply dropped her bow, having no time to put it away, and drew her mace. The first bandit came at her with a spear. She dodged around the thrust, grabbing hold of the weapon and yanking it forward, pulling the weaker woman towards her until her legs were swept away, landing her flat on her face. She barely had time to roll over before Shae's mace thwacked down into her skull, leaving it thoroughly misshapen.
"I'm sure she doesn't need the help, but..." Vesryn was already charging forward, axe in hand, and Zeth move ahead beside him, his staff alight with a ready cold spell.
A rattling laugh crept out of Zahraâs throat before she could stop it. Wholly excited. As interesting as their conversation had been, sheâd been waiting for another welcome distraction. Sheâd been thoroughly impressed by Shaeâs ability to sight the bandits before sheâd even glimpsed a shrub rustle. If she was being honest with herself, sheâd hardly heard a twig snap before Shae pelted the poor bastard with an arrow. Maybe it was those long ears of theirs, attuned to things she was not. A question even she wouldnât dare ask.
She took up her own bow and notched an arrow with practiced fingers, hardly counting a breath before loosing it into the nearest bandit's eye socket. It thumped deep and stopped the man in mid-stride, mouth gawping wide, before he fell face-first into the muck and caused one of his allies to stumble and trip over his corpse. While sheâd certainly improved with her toothpick-thin blades, she could still imagine tripping in the mud and accidentally impaling herself on them. It wasnât a chance sheâd likely take.
Instead she chose to keep her distance from the advancing bandits, and pelted them with arrows from afar. She mostly aimed at their heads, but switched between their calves and legs, causing them to topple over for easy pickings. She only stopped her assault when one ventured too close, forcing her to duck underneath a wild swing and slam the middle of her bow into his exposed nose. It crunched under the blow and immediately sprayed blood across her hands, and the front of her tunic, though it gave her enough time to level a kick into his chest and send him reeling backwards.
Marceline had expertly positioned herself in between the environment and her allies so that the bandits had to trickle in to get to her. One rather over eager bandit heaved a rather large axe at her, though his technique was raw and unrefined-- that much Marceline had taught Zahra. She did not seem particularly worried about the muscled man bearing down on her, but rather annoyed that she had to go through another fight to begin with.
Lady Marceline waited and baited out a downward chop which she back stepped and allowed it to harmlessly crash into the dirt in front of her. She soon regained the step and jammed downward with her offhanded blade, the cross-guard catching the axe's haft and tearing it free from his grasp. The rapier was quick to follow, piercing the man's throat and left him gurgling. Afterward she quickly returned to Zahra's side and turned her back on her, perhaps trusting the pirate would guard it for her.
Zeth swept out in front of himself with his staff as three bandits approached simultaneously. Ice sprung forth from the ground like eager teeth waiting to bite into prey. It formed a nearly waist high wall, but more importantly an array of icy spikes stretched forward, impaling the bandits as they rushed ahead. Their blood stained the ice red as they slowly went limp, their weapons clattering against the magic that had killed them.
Vesryn pulled his axe free from the bandit that had attempted to bring him down. The man found little success. With the calm and quiet restored, Ves surveyed their surroundings, apparently finding it to his liking. "What do you intend to do next then, Zeth? Once you're done scouring this area."
"I thought perhaps we would come pay you a visit at Skyhold, see it for ourselves." He crouched down, watching the three bodies he'd impaled slide ever so slowly down the ice. He then tilted his head to look at Vesryn. "Astraia seems to be enjoying herself. I wouldn't want to take her away from that so quickly."
"That I can agree with. We'd be glad to have her." His eyes glanced to Marceline for a second, before he turned to check on Shae. She was busy making a quick check over the bodies of the bandits for any obvious valuables. "What do you say, Shaethra? Think you'd like to see the seat of the Inquisition?"
She glanced up, her expression neutral under her hood, and then she went back to her work.
Marceline glanced up from the rapier she was polishing with her handkerchief and nodded sagely. "Indeed, it would be in poor taste not to extend the invitation after the aid you have given us," she said, though her features were even. She did like playing her cards close to her chest.
Vesrynâs friends werenât pushovers, that was for sure.
Not that Zahra expected any less from themâDalish tended to be wily individuals, hardier by far. She made a whooping nose and hunkered down beside Shae, eyes alight.
âColor me impressed. Youâve a good eye,â another mischievous smile tugged at her lips, âand better aim. What other surprises are you hiding?â
The elf woman scrutinized Zahra for a second, pausing midway through swiping a coin pouch from the first one she had killed. There was something there, perhaps, for just a second... but maybe Zahra was just seeing things.
"None for you, shem." She swiped the coin pouch and pocketed it.
The response hadnât wiped the smile from Zahraâs face. Quite the opposite. It seemed as if Skyhold would become a much more interesting place, at least for awhile.
She wasnât exactly sure, as sheâd just met them and unfortunately hadnât had time to pester them with questions. However, the temptation was there. A small smile played on her lips as she recounted her arrows. Sheâd broken three so far. Pinned and snapped against thick skulls. Theyâd been traveling along the road in search for local bandits in the area. Occasionally they peeled off the mucky route, and ended up walking along old goat trails. Led by the quiet one named Shae. She didnât talk much, which she didnât particularly mind. A small, impish part of her wanted to ask her the inane questions, if only to be a nuisance. Sheâd seen the way sheâd looked at her and Marcy. Unimpressed. Dutiful. How charming.
The other one mightâve entertained her curiosities far better. Apparently from what little sheâd heard from Vesryn and the others, they walked in the presence of their clans First. While sheâd never understood the Dalish hierarchy, she knew a little about it. Mostly from Nixium. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell if she led her astray just to make a fool of her in situations like these, so she offered little input. There was an itch she wanted to scratch about halla; how they tamed them, what they were used for⊠did they taste good?
She hummed low in her throat. An old chantey tune to fill the silence, and the pelting of rain against their shoulders and backs. Perfect for awful weather.
âIâve been meaning to ask while weâre on this bloody jaunt,â she picked at the string of her bow and hastened closer to Zethâs side, eyebrows raised, âwhat a younger Vesryn was like. Was he a troublemaker? A heart breaker? Studious and serious?â
Absurd question or not, these things did cross her mind. Who better to ask then those whoâd known him before?
A laugh escaped Vesryn. A single one, short and clipped. Not his usual style, it was strained and the slightest bit uncomfortable. Touched a nerve maybe, but he was being a good sport about it. Zeth's own eyebrows ascended a little, as though he was pleasantly surprised that she would ask such a thing at all. "Studious and serious? No. Not unless we were dealing with very specific subjects. A trouble maker? Remind me, Ves, how did we find you originally?"
"Bleeding, broken leg, stumbling through the forest." Vesryn didn't seem ashamed to admit it. If anything he looked to be recalling the incident fondly, though his looks were not often all he felt about things. "This was eight years ago or so, Zahra. Not like we were children."
"Broken and bleeding and stumbling," Zeth repeated, smirking. "I would say we knew what kind of trouble we were getting into when we took you in, but we really didn't." He used his staff as a walking stick, the blade on the bottom end slicing into the soft ground with every other step. "And a heart breaker?" His eyes flashed deviously at Zahra. "Oh, absolutely."
"I see you're enjoying this." Vesryn hefted his big axe easily in his hands, though his grip on it was loose, relaxed. Zethlasan smiled back at him.
"One of us should, I think."
Zahra waggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. As if she were sharing secrets with a good friend over a fireplace⊠a warm fire, or anywhere dry. Alas, neither accounts were true. Though anyone who was friends with Vesryn could count her as a cheery acquaintance, bow-toting and all. Her smile quibbled into a toothy grin. Even if it was at Vesâ expense, she didnât think heâd mind a little bit of badgering. For someone so good-natured and chipper, he could be tight-lipped about certain things. Sheâd learned that over goblets of ale.
Suppose that not everyone was an open bookâshe certainly wasnât. Not about the things that really mattered. Those were hidden pages, one that not many explored. She, however, frequently enjoyed perusing those pages, if they did not belong to her. Toeing the line of inappropriate had become a game to her. Until someone told her otherwise, it wasnât likely sheâd ever stop. Perhaps, even then she wouldnât.
âEight years can be a long time,â she mused with a much more tempered smile, as if she were stifling laughter but just barely, âZethâs painted quite a good picture. I couldnât really imagine you as studious or serious.â There was a pause, as she picked her path alongside Zeth. She couldnât do much about the mud sucking at her boots, but she could prevent herself from falling face first into it, âYou two seem to get along really well.â
It was a statement. An observation. Nothing more, nothing less.
She wasnât particularly sure where they were even going. Traversing across land was still⊠uncomfortable, especially on foot. It was nothing like navigating the seas. Even then, she hardly had a part in plotting their voyages. She trusted that the others would know where to take them. Theyâd point and sheâd shoot. Simple as that.
âNow a more serious question⊠does it ever stop raining here? Iâm not sure why the bandits would even want to settle here. No offense.â
"The merchants, undoubtedly," Marceline answered from behind them. She was wearing a different cloak than the one she had left Skyhold with, this one the standard issue russet of the Inquisition instead of her usual black and purple ensemble. "They provide easy prey for certain entrepreneurial minds that lack a decent grasp of ethics."
She smiled politely, but Zahra could tell that it was just one of her default expressions, "That is why we are dealing with the issue, after all."
From the front, Shaethra held up a hand and indicated that the group should stop. Along the main road ahead of them, they approached a natural narrowing of the path, as two separate groups of rock formations encroached on one another, leaving a space of about twenty feet between them. Either side was blanketed with thick bushes and other foliage, a few trees here and there further obstructing the view.
Zeth took Shae's warning seriously, his hands closing more tightly around his staff, and Vesryn subtly tensed as well. Shae had her bow currently in hand, an arrow already nocked. With impressive swiftness she drew it back and loosed the arrow, sending it sailing into one of the bushes. It didn't look like anything was there, but a moment later there was a heavy and wet thud, and a low groan as a bandit collapsed outwards from behind it, his body tumbling down the face of the rocks, an arrow embedded in his chest.
About a dozen more bandits charged from their hiding places, no few of them appearing from behind the rock formations they'd been obscuring themselves with. Shae simply dropped her bow, having no time to put it away, and drew her mace. The first bandit came at her with a spear. She dodged around the thrust, grabbing hold of the weapon and yanking it forward, pulling the weaker woman towards her until her legs were swept away, landing her flat on her face. She barely had time to roll over before Shae's mace thwacked down into her skull, leaving it thoroughly misshapen.
"I'm sure she doesn't need the help, but..." Vesryn was already charging forward, axe in hand, and Zeth move ahead beside him, his staff alight with a ready cold spell.
A rattling laugh crept out of Zahraâs throat before she could stop it. Wholly excited. As interesting as their conversation had been, sheâd been waiting for another welcome distraction. Sheâd been thoroughly impressed by Shaeâs ability to sight the bandits before sheâd even glimpsed a shrub rustle. If she was being honest with herself, sheâd hardly heard a twig snap before Shae pelted the poor bastard with an arrow. Maybe it was those long ears of theirs, attuned to things she was not. A question even she wouldnât dare ask.
She took up her own bow and notched an arrow with practiced fingers, hardly counting a breath before loosing it into the nearest bandit's eye socket. It thumped deep and stopped the man in mid-stride, mouth gawping wide, before he fell face-first into the muck and caused one of his allies to stumble and trip over his corpse. While sheâd certainly improved with her toothpick-thin blades, she could still imagine tripping in the mud and accidentally impaling herself on them. It wasnât a chance sheâd likely take.
Instead she chose to keep her distance from the advancing bandits, and pelted them with arrows from afar. She mostly aimed at their heads, but switched between their calves and legs, causing them to topple over for easy pickings. She only stopped her assault when one ventured too close, forcing her to duck underneath a wild swing and slam the middle of her bow into his exposed nose. It crunched under the blow and immediately sprayed blood across her hands, and the front of her tunic, though it gave her enough time to level a kick into his chest and send him reeling backwards.
Marceline had expertly positioned herself in between the environment and her allies so that the bandits had to trickle in to get to her. One rather over eager bandit heaved a rather large axe at her, though his technique was raw and unrefined-- that much Marceline had taught Zahra. She did not seem particularly worried about the muscled man bearing down on her, but rather annoyed that she had to go through another fight to begin with.
Lady Marceline waited and baited out a downward chop which she back stepped and allowed it to harmlessly crash into the dirt in front of her. She soon regained the step and jammed downward with her offhanded blade, the cross-guard catching the axe's haft and tearing it free from his grasp. The rapier was quick to follow, piercing the man's throat and left him gurgling. Afterward she quickly returned to Zahra's side and turned her back on her, perhaps trusting the pirate would guard it for her.
Zeth swept out in front of himself with his staff as three bandits approached simultaneously. Ice sprung forth from the ground like eager teeth waiting to bite into prey. It formed a nearly waist high wall, but more importantly an array of icy spikes stretched forward, impaling the bandits as they rushed ahead. Their blood stained the ice red as they slowly went limp, their weapons clattering against the magic that had killed them.
Vesryn pulled his axe free from the bandit that had attempted to bring him down. The man found little success. With the calm and quiet restored, Ves surveyed their surroundings, apparently finding it to his liking. "What do you intend to do next then, Zeth? Once you're done scouring this area."
"I thought perhaps we would come pay you a visit at Skyhold, see it for ourselves." He crouched down, watching the three bodies he'd impaled slide ever so slowly down the ice. He then tilted his head to look at Vesryn. "Astraia seems to be enjoying herself. I wouldn't want to take her away from that so quickly."
"That I can agree with. We'd be glad to have her." His eyes glanced to Marceline for a second, before he turned to check on Shae. She was busy making a quick check over the bodies of the bandits for any obvious valuables. "What do you say, Shaethra? Think you'd like to see the seat of the Inquisition?"
She glanced up, her expression neutral under her hood, and then she went back to her work.
Marceline glanced up from the rapier she was polishing with her handkerchief and nodded sagely. "Indeed, it would be in poor taste not to extend the invitation after the aid you have given us," she said, though her features were even. She did like playing her cards close to her chest.
Vesrynâs friends werenât pushovers, that was for sure.
Not that Zahra expected any less from themâDalish tended to be wily individuals, hardier by far. She made a whooping nose and hunkered down beside Shae, eyes alight.
âColor me impressed. Youâve a good eye,â another mischievous smile tugged at her lips, âand better aim. What other surprises are you hiding?â
The elf woman scrutinized Zahra for a second, pausing midway through swiping a coin pouch from the first one she had killed. There was something there, perhaps, for just a second... but maybe Zahra was just seeing things.
"None for you, shem." She swiped the coin pouch and pocketed it.
The response hadnât wiped the smile from Zahraâs face. Quite the opposite. It seemed as if Skyhold would become a much more interesting place, at least for awhile.