Off to Denerim - Lithawen's Group

Lithawen looked over her group, her gaze hard. "Everyone, get packed and ready as fast as possible or your getting left behind." she said, taking to her new authority quickly.

"I want Bowman, Morrigan and Kristoff in the rear, Caterina you'll be in the front with me. Stay close and watch out for each other. Remember, just because we're on the road doesn't mean that we're safe. There are strangling darkspawn, bandits, and wild life. If you see someone as a threat you attack first, ask questions later.

Without waiting for the others to respond, the Dalish went over to Arlathan. Stroking the stallion's nose she made sure he was in good condition, and ready for the ride ahead. Once she was satisfied with her assessment of her horse, she slung a blanket over his back and mounted, Elendil strapped securely to her back.

Bowen snorted with the new nickname, and kissed briefly Caterina's forehead before mounting on Goliath. The enormous stallion neighed softly, brushing his head against Bosco's, apparently not worried for the fact that his rider was now wearing his full dragonbone massive armor. The horse was wearing some armor pieces too, protecting its chest and forehead.

The Nevarran looked again at Garoll's group and waved a hand before going to his position in the rear, whistling a soft tune and holding his helmet in one hand

I stretched and cracked my spine, well not neccessarily my spine, but it was in my body. I summon my dead horse and mount up on it.

Morrigan rolled her eyes as she looked at the horse she had been given, "Don't give me that look you nag. You will do as I tell you or so help me you will be supper. Foolish beast. I'd rather walk but by the looks of this pseudo leader it will all be up to how fast you can move. I sure hope your dead horse can keep up with her pace, Kristoff."

She got up onto her horse and snorted as she looked towards Lithawen, "So how fast do you wish us to put our beasts to? I hope you do not intend on overworking this nag. It looks like it could fall over if I breathe on her."

Lithawen looked back to the Malificar, her gaze unamused. "We will push them as fast and as far as they can go. We'll stop for a break around noon, but only to water the horses. I hate to say it, but we're going to try and get to the tower as quickly as possible."

The Dalish turned her gaze to the landscape, seeing the vague outline of the tower in the distance. She wasn't happy about returning, the couple of days she had spent in the circle were rattling, difference in culture, background, and ability made her stand out from the mages of her age. Her attitude towards humans coupled with that made it an unpleasant experience. Though now she knew that no rank of Templar could politically hold her, and the statues of Warden was to thank for that.

She looked over her group and nodded. "Let's be off then. Morrigan if your nag is not sufficient then simply transform into an animal more fitting for the trip." with that said she nudged Arlathan on, he walked forward stretching out his legs and joints before bolting forward.

"HIYA!" I yelled at my horse and it took off.

Caterina smiled as leaned her head forward to accept Bowen's quick kiss, and followed his every movement with her eyes as she swung up onto Bosco's back. The black stallion looked pleased to be ridden again, and happily nudged back at Goliath's larger head, sniffing curiously at the big horse's plat armor.

The Antivan woman laughed and patted Bosco's neck as she situated herself comfortably in his saddle. "Ah, Bosco. Do not become distracted by his handsome armor," she teased, stealing a look towards Bowen, making it clear that she was speaking for both her horse and herself. "No matter how good he looks in it, it would not fit you. It is certainly pleasant to look at, however." Bosco threw his head in agreement, and nuzzled at Goliath's nose on more time before Caterina had to pull in his reigns to stop him from prancing like a yearling.

Turning her head back to the Nevarran man, the assassin turned Bosco closer so that she could whisper over to him. "You look stunning, querido," she said with a smile, throwing in a word of affection that she had learned in Antiva as a child. "I find myself hoping that we meet conflict, so that I may see you in action with your lovely armor."

Finally, though, the voices of the others began to penetrate her bubble of affection, and she reluctantly turned her head towards the front. The elven woman with the gorgeous long blond hair had said her name, and her ever sharp ears had caught that she was to go to the front. She cast one last longing look to Bowen before Bosco trotted slowly up to the Dun colored stallion, sniffing at the composed horse curiously. Caterina offered the elven woman an easy smile before looking about.

They were accompanied by a sour looking mage-woman, who despite her frowning exterior had the most intriguing set of robes that Caterina had ever seen, and a far too young boy-child with messy black hair and the oddest look about him. Both of them set Caterina's sensitive nerves on edge, and she vowed to stay as close to Bowen and Lithawen (who, though grating, was honest and up-front) as possible.

Her gaze was stolen back to Lithawen, however, when she heard a sharp shout, and then two of the horses were off. She hadn't even had time to properly register who they were riding with before she instinctively snapped her reigns. Bosco, happy to finally move, practically threw himself into the chase like the Antivan Thoroughbred he was, his black and white legs moving effortlessly under him. His Antivan rider glanced back to make sure that Bowen was in tow before looking ahead again to keep watch, and she and Bosco were almost immediately astride Lithawen and Arlathan.

Bowen smiled for himself, banned to the very rear of the little group by the Dalish leader. Well, he was a shem after all, so it made sense that she didn't wanted a human near her. It was ok for him though... Things were going to be interesting. The Nevarran wondered with amusement how far would Lithawen let him go with jokes and other tings until she set his beard on fire.

When Caterina talked to him, with that lovely Antivan accent, he smiled sincerely. ''To be honest, I hope we won't find anything in our way, my dear. I'm still very tired from the traveling and... last night. Remember I am an old, old man'' He winked to her, with a teasing smile.

When the Antivan rogue went to the front with Lithawen he sighed, he wished she could stay near him so they could talk while riding, but ah well. He snapped Goliath's reigns as well to follow them

"Let's be off then. Morrigan if your nag is not sufficient then simply transform into an animal more fitting for the trip."

Simply transform? How did this woman know what she was or what she could do? Nygozy certainly would not have given any such information to anyone. She knew the Dwarf enough to know that each person's abilities are their own to share as they see fit. So how did she ... wait. She was a Grey Warden. They were likely to know all about whoever Nygozy had in her group or as much as anyone could tell anyway and Morrigan was well known to be a shape changer. This person must have read up as much as she could on Nygozy's former group.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the Dalish woman and a sneer came upon her face. Well wasn't that an unpleasant surprise? This was something that meant more than it did on the surface, of that she was sure.

As the others reacted to each other she did not watch them but kept an eye on the leader until Kristoff had his horse take off at speed and Bowen came back to the rear with her. She watched her little brother take off and defy Lithawen. She smirked. The boy would be fine and so would Lithawen as long as she decided not to be too hard on her brother.

She glanced at Bowen and shrugged, "I see you have been subjugated to the back with the rest of us unclean Humans. The pointy eared, self effacing one seems to think she's the cat's meow now doesn't she?" She chuckled as she got her horse walking, not in the least interested in following Lithawen's lead, "I've never seen a Dalish so interested to get to the Tower before." She made a clucking sound to her horse as it idled along.

"I see you have been subjugated to the back with the rest of us unclean Humans. The pointy eared, self effacing one seems to think she's the cat's meow now doesn't she? I've never seen a Dalish so interested to get to the Tower before."

"I do not think I am the 'cat's meow', I happen to know for a fact I am great." The Dalish said turning on Arlathan's back looking to the Witch of the Wilds. "But that is hardly the issue at present. You wish me to be leader but not to assert myself nor lead with confidence? You are a very confused woman."

"Now onto the matter of the tower. I am not pleased to be returning. The inhuman cage is hardly my favorite place, but I was given an order, and rather than imploring the dwarf's wrath with objections; I am following her instructions. If you have a problem with the way I do things then you can go and join another group."

Lithawen turned from Morrigan to look at Kristoff, her brow furrowed and she frowned. "And who the hell is this kid!?" she asked in a tone of annoyance, she didn't want to have to take care of this little kid. If darkspawn attacked she was defiantly just going to let him die.

"Keep talking to me like that, I'll be your worst fucking nightmare, got it?" I spat. I wasn't really in the mood to be talked to like dirt, the ground started to shake with the stirring of undead bodies.

"I do not think I am the 'cat's meow', I happen to know for a fact I am great. But that is hardly the issue at present. You wish me to be leader but not to assert myself nor lead with confidence? You are a very confused woman."

Morrigan smirked then snorted at Lithawen, "Yes, you think you are. Do you really believe we want you to lead us anywhere? You are a crazed fool if you believe any of us wish to be in your company. The only reason we are is because Nygozy gave you this leadership because you are a whiny brat. It's to see if you truly can gain confidence and respect from those working with you and if you believe it is anything different then you are an idiot as well as a crazed fool."

"Now onto the matter of the tower. I am not pleased to be returning. The inhuman cage is hardly my favorite place, but I was given an order, and rather than imploring the dwarf's wrath with objections; I am following her instructions. If you have a problem with the way I do things then you can go and join another group. And who the hell is this kid!?"

"Well at least there you do have some sense. That sniveling tower of retrobates is hardly worth consideration let alone the chance to visit." She rolled her eyes, "Ah yes. Her wrath. I have seen it well. She might even consider making you wash that four legged beast she calls a dog if you don't follow her orders. As for the boy ..."

"Keep talking to me like that, I'll be your worst fucking nightmare, got it?"

The witch looked to her brother and put a hand on his arm to calm him as she could feel what he was doing, "Now now, little brother. There is no need for that at this time." She leaned closer to whisper, "There are other things to consider. Later we talk."

She turned her attention back to Lithawen with a glare, "This is my brother, Kristoff. Your memory must be addled to not remember that Nygozy assigned him to this group."

I mutter, "Maybe if I killed her for a day, that'd teach her a lesson."

"I see you have been subjugated to the back with the rest of us unclean Humans. The pointy eared, self effacing one seems to think she's the cat's meow now doesn't she? I've never seen a Dalish so interested to get to the Tower before."

Bowen laughed sincerely and nodded with a big smile. ''It seems so. By the way, I am Bowen Pentaghast, the unclean human Grey Warden. I think she'll do it well... if she can ignore her prejudices. We'll see''

He shrugged lightly, he wasn't worried about Lithawen's apparent hate for humans or other living things. He was there for his duty, as his second, and of course keeping an eye on her. He was determined to stop her if she did anything that he thought was wrong, and to hell with the rest.

"I do not think I am the 'cat's meow', I happen to know for a fact I am great''

Bowen burst in laughter. That was his all answer.

''If you have a problem with the way I do things then you can go and join another group. And who the hell is this kid!?"

''As for the boy ..."

"Keep talking to me like that, I'll be your worst fucking nightmare, got it?"

''No, you won't'' Bowen began, calmly, but was interrupted by Morrigan and then by Kristoff again.

"Maybe if I killed her for a day, that'd teach her a lesson."

The Nevarran frowned, and looked hard at the boy. He was old fashioned, and such a young boy speaking with such disrespect was more than he could accept

''You will behave or I'll smack your smart ass myself. Let me explain you how the things will go here. You WON'T threaten anybody, you WON'T harm anybody, you WILL OBEY every order, and you WILL BE silent when an older one is talking or giving orders. Understood, brat? And of course you WON'T try to kill anybody, or I'll kill you by myself. I am here as Lithawen's second, and you'll nod and say 'Yes, ser'' as a good boy. Show more respect to your elders''

"Whatever you say," I yawned, his threat not concerning me. I crack my shoulder and my arm pops off, "Shit," I say as I pick it up and begin to sew it back on.

Morrigan sighs and puts a hand on Kristoff's shoulder, "Leave him to me. You go on your merry little ways and we will follow behind at a distance."

Worried, slightly narrowed eyes bounced between the group as the beginnings of confrontation stirred, setting teh Antivan woman on edge. With each retort and scathing tone, Caterina glanced to Lithawen at her side, holding her reigns tightly in the event that she had to move Bosco away, should the mage suddenly flare up in anger (as she seemed likely to do). The dark-skinned woman was not a fan of such displays of petty dominance, especially when so many mages were involved, but she held her tongue- it wasn't her place to speak, and besides, the quieter she was, the more likely she was going to come out of this unharmed.

She did manage a genuine smile, however, when Bowen berated the child for speaking out of turn. It was a sentiment that she agreed with, that children should keep their tongues. She loved children, and had something of a maternal instinct, but they should be respectful, and should never be allowed to cultivate a sense of impertinence. In Antiva, a disrespectful child could easily get a lashing, a practice she was intimately familiar with. But, perhaps even more importantly, she certainly did not approve of a child accompanying a scouting party, where the threat of danger loomed far too close for comfort, even for a child as... strange, as this one.

Caterina allowed herself to look back at Bowen wistfully for a few moments, before turning to the elf next to her. Hopefully she could distract her from blowing up the mage-child with conversation. She thought for a few moments on what she could say to the blond woman...

And came up with nothing.

This would be harder than she'd initially thought.

She pursed her lips, wracking her brain for any conversational topic that might appeal to the woman, rather than simply transfer her anger from Morrigan to herself. Finally, after much thought, and no little amount of desperation, she finally settled on the veritable leper of conversational starters.

"Ah, but it seems the weather today is lovely for a long ride such as ours. That, at least, should make the trip to our inevitable destination much more pleasant." Caterina wanted to kill herself, right then and there. Even Bosco seemed to think it was lame, snorting out suspiciously as she glanced down at him, unimpressed.

Lithawen glared to the child at when he threatened her. What a laugh he was, a child thinking that he could best her. "Your threats mean nothing to me young one. For you are stupid with age, and weak in inexperience.But do not think that means I will turn the other cheek while you act the fool. Threaten me again and I shall make sure that you will remember who is leading here." she growled, her hand becoming engulfed in flames. "You, a child, should be seen and not heard." she stated clearly.

And with that she turned, not caring for his answer (no doubt full of false superiority), and was a bit glad that Bowmen agreed with her in a way, perhaps not to the degree she at, but he did agree that the child should show respect.

Arlathan only needed a slight nudge in his ribs to get started again. The sudden stop had set him on edge, as he liked to keep going till they reached their destination or night fall, which ever they happened upon first.

Lithawen did not care for her party, the Antivan and the Nevarran were not disagreeable right now, but the other mages were lacking seriously in disapline and respect. She did not care that she had done nothing to earn their respect, but she expected them to at least follow her orders without complaint for the sake of the groups ultimate survival. Fighting within the ranks (whil a pass time she often indulges in) was not productive (in this case).

"Tell the Dwarf I may see her again some day." She said to Bowen.

Morrigan got off her horse and walked into the woods. She motioned with her head at Kristoff and continued on, away from the group.

"They can go their way. We will go ours. It does not matter anyway as I only came looking for you."

Away From All - Morrigan and Kristoff

''That I'll do'' Bowen assured her, watching her go and then the kid followed her. Sighing, he pulled the reigns of the horse that Morrigan left and tied them to his own.

He was alone in the rear now, and the Nevarran sighed again, already bored even if they were riding pretty fast, Lithawen looked anxious to arrive as soon as possible. Andraste's sweet mercy, his buttocks were aching as hell, but he kept his silence and just followed the two girls, and suddenly decided to enjoy the view.

With a smile he decided that it wasn't that bad to be alone in the rear, even if he couldn't talk to anybody (and Maker's breath, how he liked talking to anybody while traveling. All that wild landscape made him nervous). He could see Caterina's lovely hips and mane, and he wished he could kiss her lovely nose right then. Lithawen was pleasant to the eye as well, but he had seen her sleeping with Sinjan and he was already /very/ attached to Caterina, so he was /very/ happy to wish his best wishes to the knight and the Keeper. If Lithawen didn't kill him in a sudden rage.

Smiling to himself, he followed. As he always did.

[OOC: Talked to Admin. Looks like I'm joining this group. Hope no one takes umbrage to this. (And if you do, well... sucks to be you.) Apologies if this post steps on anyone's toes - I haven't read through every single thread to learn the entire backstory of this particular forum.]

He had been given orders to seek other Wardens in Ferelden, and seek those Wardens he would.

But at that moment, something else was on the lone swordsman's mind. Something far more pressing. Literally pressing - there was a dagger pointed at his belly, in the hands of an ugly man with an ugly scar across his ugly face. An ugly smile crept across the man's face, a smug one filled with arrogance and a false sense of superiority.

Well, it wasn't entirely false. The swordsman was outnumbered seven-to-one here on this lonely road.

Did they really think numeric superiority ensured victory? Beneath his hood, the warrior began to take mental notes. Two archers stood behind him, one to his left and the other to the right. Their leader stood right in front of him, niggling knife tickling his belly. Four more bandits stood slightly behind their leader, with a varied array of weapons - greatsword, a hatchet and mace combination, shortswords, and what looked like a staff.

That staff concerned him the most, not the man with the dagger.

The world faded back into audible focus for the warrior as he caught the annoying, annoyed high-pitched squeal of his immediate problem. "Halloooooooo! Are ye deaf? I sed han' over yer coin-" Faster than the cutthroat could finish his sentence, the swordsman exploded into motion. He grasped the dagger (and the hand that held it) with his gauntleted left fist, twisting the blade away from his vital organs, and delivered a crushing kick to his opponent's right knee. The joint gave away with a resounding crack. Not satisfied with merely disabling the man, in the same motion as his kick, the warrior drew his own dagger from beneath his ragged cloak and slashed the brigand's belly, ripping apart the leather "armor". Still maintaining his grip on the man's hand, the warrior spun with calculated precision on his left heel and hurled the body at the archer behind and to his left.

By this point, the other four men that stood in front of the warrior were reacting. Three were closing in on him, maneuvering to surround him, to hem him in with their weapons.

He would have none of that. He slammed his right fist into the ground and the world, in his eyes, exploded in ghost-lights, a faint screaming filling his head as he drew the Fade through to the physical world, shaping the energies with malicious intent. His assailants stumbled in pain as the Fade burst through their armor and flesh and bones, crippling the very core of their self. And in their moment of hesitation, the warrior became even more deadly, for he drew his blades - long, lethal things of silverite, wielded with a professional familiarity.

And then he moved.

He burst like a storm from his spot, a crushing, cutting tempest of steel and death; he was nowhere but his swords were everywhere. The archers fired arrows at him, but they may as well as have been flinging flowers, for all the good it did them; for though they could see him, their weapons meant nothing. He had slipped part-way into the Fade and entirely into an unhesitating trance of violence. Each blow flowed smooth like a rapid and crashed against flesh like a tsunami, carried through solely by his ever-gaining momentum. Only the mage posed any threat to him, and that threat did not last long; for she was his first target even as he cut down the others - and as he cut through them to reach her, she knew her life was at an end. Three stinging blows crushed her, slashed her apart - each one designed to utterly cripple any mage; blows to hand, heart, and head.

Finally, he rounded on his last remaining prey: the archers. The moment their eyes met the deep, dark holes in his helmet, they turned and fled, screaming. But their companions had not earned mercy, and neither would they; he dropped his blades and raised both hands, forming a roiling ball of fire. The portable conflagration unleashed itself and exploded against the back of one runner, blasting them apart in an instant. The explosion vaporized the area of the blast and knocked aside the second runner, cooking them to the point of terminal pain.

As the sole survivor of the group screamed in utter agony, the warrior turned to look at the carnage he left behind. The armor of the men and women he butchered was utterly ruined beyond the point of repair, useful only for scraps. The weapons were in a good state and could be sold for decent coin, but he did not feel the tradeoff in combat mobility would be worth lugging around such heavy items. On the other hand, it was always good to have extra weapons...

As he picked over the bodies to the tune of a fresh burn victim's screams, he noted another oddity. All of the people he killed had a single - well, dual - point of commonality. They all had a curious pair of tattoos on their jaws, below the ear: one red, and one black. He memorized the pattern, in case it became necessary to identify other members of this gang.

Lithawen watched as Morrigan left with her loud mouthed brother. The Keeper did not care much, but now the formation was messed up. What use was there for a warrior in the back? But they continued on while she tamed her anger. A task that was impossible in and of it's self, but the Keeper was able to just bottle up that anger for later use when something needed to be burned to a crisp.

Once her head was on straight she turned back to Bowen, "Come up and ride closer to us. No point in spreading out when our numbers are so thin to begin with. We must stick together now," she said, rolling her eyes when she followed his eye-line to Caterina's hips. Pft, typical man.

Their ride was long, boring (to the Keeper either way), and up until now there had been no hint of trouble. Scream carried over the wind, howling, putting the Arcane Warrior on high alert. "Caterina, do you have any scouting skills?" she asked as her eyes scanned the area.

"Come up and ride closer to us. No point in spreading out when our numbers are so thin to begin with. We must stick together now,"

The Nevarran looked at the Keeper, pleasantly surprised, but did so and came up to ride beside the two ladies. He bowed his head with courtesy to Lithawen, and smiled briefly for Caterina before returning his sight to the road in fron of them.

Hours later the howling sound of someone dying came with the wind, and Bowen frowned. He was alert the whole time, even if he looked relaxed, but suddenly all his apparently good mood disappeared.

"Caterina, do you have any scouting skills?"

''If you don't mind, Lithawen...'' Bowen began, making Goliath go in front of the two women. His voice soon was lower as he put on his helmet. ''Stay behind me, both of you.''

As he knew darkspawn weren't there, he assumed his two companions knew that as well. Goliath neighed angrily and Bowen stroked his black mane softly, his shield prepared, and made the stallion continue his slow pace. ''There's no more noise. Whatever had happened is over''

Caterina turned in her saddle to watch as Bowen came up to join them at the front of the line (though it really wasn't much of a 'front' anymore). She smiled at man as Goliath fell into step with Bosco and Arlathan, and her black horse snorted in greeting to his own stallion. Her eyes lit up, glad that he was no longer banished to the back- though she wouldn't like to admit it, Lithawen set her on edge just slightly, and having Bowen by her side comforted her.

Perhaps it comforted her too much.

She hadn't been keeping her senses as open as she should have been, and she didn't sense that anything might be wrong until a blood-curdling scream split through the air after what felt like an eternity after the departure of Morrigan and her child brother. The ride had lulled her into a false sense of security, and she was shamed to realize that she had actually jumped at the horrifying sound. She shouldn't have so- more often than not, she was the nightmare causing such screams on dark nights.

Her head turned sharply towards Lithawen as the elf demanded if she had scouting experience, almost offended despite the apparent severity and uncertainty of the situation. She was an assassin of Antive- she had been bred to scout as dogs were bred to hunt. But she couldn't worry over that now. She would have set out to do what was asked of her had Bowen not moved himself in front of her path. Her eyebrows drew together, conflicted, as he commanded that they stay behind him, voice hard and the line of his back tense for action. His (unnecessary) concern for their safety warmed her, but worry was no excuse to fail in her duty. She was a Warden, just as he, and she could handle herself.

But, she noted, he was right. It was silent now. The nightmarish screams had faded on the wind, and now only the coppery smell of blood traveled towards them, mixed with the stinging scent of burning flesh that smelt so badly it bit at her eyes.

"What could have happened..." she muttered, her more morbid thoughts snaking out of her mouth without permission. Her hands clenched around Bosco's reigns. She was no stranger to violence, but that smell...

She almost didn't want to find out what lay down the road.