Post #1377542 in Dragon Age: Damnation, a roleplay on RPG

Ceallach Norrenddare

Stealing might be considered a crime, but to many it was a lifestyle, job, or even a hobby. For Ceallach, it was perhaps all three. He had three siblings, two sisters and a brother—and it was his responsibility to take care of them. It was what he had promised his mother on her deathbed, and he kept promises to the best he could. Life was hard in poverty, there was never enough food or clean things for everyone. Pickpocketing kept his siblings fed and alive, and to him, that was the most important thing. But the bad thing was that Lothering was but a small town, and moneybags didn’t live around here, so there wasn’t much he could actually pinch.

Hey, but he grabbed what he could and made the best of it. He didn’t mind living poor all that much, but he hated to see his little sisters and brother secretly wish for things that only shems could afford. It wasn’t fair, but it was clear that the neither the world nor life was. That was why when he had seen a procession of that looked like merchants, he had made his decision. He would do honest work and somehow make sure his family could eat better and wear warmer clothes in the winter.

And this woman had agreed—this had to be his lucky day. He quickly signed his name in his own blood, and watched in awe as she hefted a bulging bag of coins to him. It would probably be the most amount of money he would ever handle in his life—and with this his siblings would be okay until the next time he checked up on them. He blinked as she handed him the biggest apples he had ever seen, a pleased and somewhat boyish grin coming over his features. “Maker bless you,” he nodded, his steps towards home light and happy even with his weighty loads.

“Aeltia,” he called as he stepped into the shack called home. “Meara, Torin. I am back.”

The oldest, seventeen year old Meara looked up, her eyes widening like saucepans at the sight of what he was carrying. “Oh…Ceallach, is that…?”

Six year old Torin rushed up to him, eyes just as wide. “What’s that? What’ve you got there?”

“Calm down you brute, I’m getting to that,” he laughed, ruffling his brother’s hair.

“What is going on?” Asked twelve year old Aeltia, blinking.

“Wellll…I’ve got a surprise for all of you,” he grinned, handing each sibling a large apple. “These are special. They’ll be extra, extra delicious.”

“Really?” asked Torin, looking down at the apple as if it held the answer to everything in life.

“Yes, really. Try it, and you’ll see!” Ceallach watched happily as his siblings munched away, exclaiming about the exquisite taste. Yes, this was all he had ever wanted, seeing them happy.

He drew Meara aside, speaking quietly. “I brought a lot of money this time. It will keep you all well for a long time.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Meara asked quietly, eyes solemn and serious. “When are you coming back?”

“I..I do not know,” he said simply, still smiling. “But I will come back one day. And I’ll always be thinking of you all.”

Meara grabbed his arm. “What am I supposed to tell them?” she glanced backwards at the younger two, who were eating, happily oblivious.

“That I’m on a big, grand adventure. And that I’ll come back with the most amazing things they’ve ever seen.” He chuckled. “They like stories like that, do they not?”

--

Their smiling faces still floated in his head as he made his way back to the tents of the ‘Blodwyn’ woman, leading his beloved stallion. He paused, sticking his head into the tent. “I am back, miss.” He said simply. Farewells were something he was not good at, but he was determined to do well for his siblings’ sakes.

___________________________________________________________

Merle Rilynnrae

The forest felt like home as ever as Merle rode through it on her halla; she loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, the blur of greenery as she whirled by. This was all the feeling of freedom, freedom, freedom—something she reveled and thrived in. She was without direction, much like the wind itself, blowing whichever way it wished. The elven woman had a thing for travelling—she never could stay in one place wholly satisfied. Being tied down and hindered was the thing she hated intensely, as well as distaste for humans. Because she travelled, Merle had no choice but to accept their miserable, arrogant existences, but that didn’t mean she had to like them.

This seemed to be a small town, not very large. It was good enough for a couple days, she supposed. She glanced down to the bird perched contentedly on her shoulder, a smooth click rolling off her tongue. “Are you hungry yet, Rian?” The bird tilted its head coquettishly at her, the dark eyes twinkling. She smiled, digging through her waist packs to offer the sleek bird morsels of dried berries and bread crumbs. His little head bobbed up and down as he pecked at the food in her palm, letting out a gleeful chirp.

She slid off Aithne near the edge of town, spotting a watering hole nearby. She splashed water onto her hands, signaling her halla to come and drink as well. The packs attached to the halla were light and small, Merle being quite a light packer. The bare necessities were all she needed and nothing else. Anything else would seem like ridiculous frivolity to her.

She turned, fixing the straps on her halla when she felt a nuzzle at her head. She turned in surprise, but relaxed to see that it was only a white stallion—a well-trained war horse, it seemed. “Hello there, da’assan.” she said softly, carefully patting his head, “Wherever did you come from?” The horse, of course, did not answer—opting instead to stick a long tongue out and lap at her silvery hair. She felt a smile tugging at her lips—though she may not be the friendliest being in the world, she loved animals very much.

However she became wary once again as a voice called out to her, approaching her. It was a tall blonde young shemlen, speaking of how she’d found his horse. “He belongs to you?” she said, tone dispassionate. “I see.” He reached over and grabbed the bridle, leading the stallion away from her hair. She didn’t like seeing bridles on animals—it looked uncomfortable. But the horse didn’t seem to mind all that much, jovially trotting to his side.

He smiled, telling her he wanted to thank her by…letting her meet his sister? Merle quirked a fine eyebrow and Rian, on her shoulder, hopped from foot to foot as if to say that he was suspicious. Never trust humans. How would this human even know whether she would like to meet his sister? He knew not who or what she was even like. Merle was about to decline, but she gave in. After all, what could this shemlen do? Nothing she could not handle. He seemed awfully polite, but it could always mean nothing. She had never seen a human honestly polite to an elf, anyways.

“’Tis a pleasure,” she said dryly. “I am Merle Rilynnrae.” She whistled to her halla and it obediently followed as she trailed the golden haired human. She would go with him, but if he tried anything funny she would not hesitate to teach him a lesson or two.

Snippet #1377542

located in Ferelden, a part of Dragon Age: Damnation, one of the many universes on RPG.

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