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Snippet #2154305

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




Characters Present

Character Portrait: Marroseth Character Portrait: Sir Nordin
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Now who could have predicted this?

The stone ruins of Ostagar lay stained, more red than black. This was to the dismay of many. Oh, so beautiful it was, the arching crimson contrails that followed closely behind the wicked blades. Magi, Templar, Grey Wardens, and oh so many would-be knights of Ferelden now lay dying on the field of honorless battle. The great King, in his righteous charge, in all his gold and glory, now lay a motionless corpse among his fellows. The screams of men could be no where near as disheartening to the crippled moral of those who still lived to fight as the horns of retreat from their beloved saviors. The men whom so much faith and trust was placed in, and now they would leave all these fools to their appointed fates. The rain poured down an unforgiving tempest upon these doomed souls, as even now flies and maggots feasted eagerly upon the dead. It seams they too foresaw the outcome of this little skirmish. This day, this dark and cold day, was just so...... so.....

"........Perfect!" cried a gleeful voice through iron bars. His cheer ringing through the rain-drenched gloom sharper than the clang of weapons of war. "Quiet, You Damned Bastard! I'll hear no more from your mouth!" This was the spiteful reply of the only Templar charged with the cursed duty of protecting a being, which was without a doubt unworthy of such. "Oh Nordin, can't you see? Can't you taste it? Their is a bitter-sweet irony in the air!" Upon the successful parrying and dispatching of one of many a tainted horror, the bloodied Templar glared back in disbelief. "Firstly, it's 'Sir Nordin', Monster! And of what irony do you speak, Marroseth?" The monster grimaced underneath his cold mask. "Well, 'Sir Nordin', firstly I'd say duck..."

Nordin looked back with a confused expression, visible even through his helmet. "Duck? Gagh!" he cried, as a Darkspawn mace met the back of his plate armor. He landed hard upon the ground, but recovered with a swift role. Mace in hand and shield at the ready, Sir Nordin blocked his opponents followup blow and countered with a strike of his own to the side of the dark beasts knee. A second blow to the opposite knee fell the hurlock, while the Templar stabbed his mace down in a dagger-like fashion to it's face for the deathblow. Recomposing himself in a huff, he returned his attention to the cage of Marroseth. "You.... you knew I wouldn't listen to that, didn't you?" "That'd be telling.... But I believe I was saying something.... Ah, yes. The irony!" Marroseth took a moment to childishly giggle, like a young boy withholding a secret from another. "The irony lies within what your intentions with me were. I know you meant for me to die here, but now...." he stopped again, letting out a chuckle in a cold and dark tone. "Now freeing me is your only hope of living....."

"Like hell! I'd rather strip down to my nethers and invite the darkspawn to line dancing!" Sir Nordin paused a moment, before giving a slight tilt of his head. "Huh.... I use to be good at dancing..." he remarked, before nearly being beheaded by a genlock. Marroseth watched the fight from within his cage with wicked amusement. Between the swings and sways, Sir Nordin retorted. "In any case" he spoke, back-stepping out of the stubby creatures reach, "I would not suffer being bit on the arse by making bargains with a devil such as you!" Marroseth rested his hands upon the sill of his cages window, his clawed fingers draping over the edge with one pointing upwards to add emphasis to his upcoming point. "Ah! But do devils not always keep to their deals?" "True.." replied Nordin, giving an edged bash of his shield to the darkspawn's face, "but don't deals with devils always come with some horrible price, that eventually leads to the aforementioned arse-biting?" Marroseth leaned heavily against his little portal to the outside world, letting his arms drape through the bars. "Awww, I was hoping you'd forget that part..." he returned in a playfully pouting voice.

Nordin finally dispatched his midget of a foe, and returned to the conversation with Marroseth. "Yes, well... I didn't... so no." Nordin watched as the merciless eyes of the fell being lazily glanced upwards. "Knife." "What?" Nordin inquired, to which Marroseth added a pointing finger and a reply. "Knife!" he repeated, barely giving the knight enough time to react. The Templar barely ducked the jagged blade which clashed against the impenetrable stone of Marroseth's cage. The twisted visage of the hurlock's face was that of surprise, as a clawed arm shot out and swiftly locked unto it's arm. A second grasping onto it's head, with Marroseth's thumb piercing into the darkspawn's eye. In a moment, the hurlock backed away grasping at it's now missing jugular. Marroseth played merrily with the black gore between his fingers. "Now this! This is fascinating... Sir Nordin, you are a knight, yes? And I have just saved your life, yes?"

Nordin looked up cautiously, meeting those malevolent eyes of this demon-being. Eyes which now burned with a dark shade of red. ".....And there's that bad feeling. What of it?" Marroseth gave a deep throaty laugh, and spoke out in a voice that sent ice through Nordins veins. "Heh heh heh.... Then by your honor, Sir Knight, you now owe me a debt. A life for a life. Yours for mine. Let me out....." The Templar gazed towards the muddy Earth, weighing his choice in his mind. As a Templar, he was a knight. As a knight, he must uphold his honor. Had this demon really forced him into freeing this hellspawn? Then... a wicked idea crossed his mind. He brought the view of his helmet up to meet the gaze of Marroseth, as a matching grin crawled over his lips. Marroseth could... sense this. "No..." "You'd shame your honor?" Marroseth asked, crimson eyes narrowing. "No, I agree to a life for a life..... And with the aid of a horse, I can save your life. Which means I don't need to let you out. Get it?" Nordin replied, as he closed one of twin wooden doors over Marroseth's view. Doors Marroseth didn't know were there. Doors to a carriage.

The red in Marroseth's eyes faded to white, as his voice became that of manic surprise. "Wait, I'm in a wagon?!" Nordin just rolled his eyes. "No, we hauled an enormous ancient stone cage all the way from the Circle to Ostagar by hand..." he shot back with a mocking tone. "Waaaaiiit.... was that sarcasm?" To this, all the knight could do was groan as he closed and latched the second door to the carriage.

"Oh, do shut up...."