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Flint Cadash

"Sodding Orzamar. Sodding Paragons. Sod it!"

0 · 185 views · located in Thedas

a character in “Dragon Age: The Sword of Andraste”, as played by blackrider

Description

-

So begins...

Flint Cadash's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Marian Tirial Character Portrait: Francine Beaupre Character Portrait: Mathias Carrel Character Portrait: Flint Cadash
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Flint, a burly little dwarf who sounded as gruff as he looked, sat by himself in the back of The Prancing Wyvern. He'd spent the last half hour waiting for any site of his soon to be companions, spending the free moment of peace to eat a decent meal and humor himself about the thought of an actual 'prancing wyvern'.

True he didn't know who he was looking for but he assumed the lot would stand out. Mages and Templars had a way of doing that, standing out. Especially mages. Nine times out of ten when a man claimed his overly elaborate looking staff was merely for walking you were about to get a fireball thrown in your face.

Flints biased opinions seem to somewhat ring true when a man descended from the stairs leading to the bedrooms above, he was a rather handsome looking human who clutched a gigantic leather bound book.

”HA! Must be a mage.” Flint thought triumphantly.

Suddenly what could only be described as a parade exploded from the front door, an Orlesian ensemble following closely behind a particularly intimidating female figure. Like flint she was completely armor clad and ready for battle.

It wasn't more then a few moments before the Orlesian warrior and the suspected mage were conversing, a fact that only furthered Flints suspicions that these were his comrades in arms. Finishing his breakfast and quickly downing his morning ale Flint wasted no time going to introduce himself to his fellow companions.

Making himself presentable with a belch and a beard swipe Flint sauntered over to the table, his dwarven armor clanking as he moved accompanied by the noise of the various beads and gems woven into his beard literally jangling against his finely crafted armor. Looking at the old dwarf one would never assume that the battle hardened warrior was actually a member of the inner circle of The Inquisitions spy network, having actually worked directly under the infamous Lady Nightengale for numerous years.

But Flint was no spy, a fact obvious by the countless scars and gashes that littered his now wrinkled face. No, he was a blunt instrument used for situations that called for no subtly whatsoever. Whether that was tracking down a blood mage that was not wanted brought back alive, or infiltrating particularly cunning or troublesome bandit rings. Pretty much anything that required a skilled, loyal, blade.

Taking a seat as if the three were already long time friends Flint began speaking while absent mindidly scratching at the large S shaped tatoo on his right cheek. Despite the huge bushy white beard that covered his face Flint still couldn't hide his old Caste brand.

He had literally arrived at the table moments after Marian and followed her own blunt introduction with a more polite one. He wasn't trying to interrupt but more help out someone who looked like they didn't want attention.

“Hey kids.” Flint said in what could be described as a gruff,grandfatherly,bark “A little black bird told me you all might be in need of...” He trailed off, as if looking for the right words do describe a Carta trained dwarf who had spent the better part of thirty years killing his way across Thedas. He settled with “...a skilled hand?”.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Marian Tirial Character Portrait: Francine Beaupre Character Portrait: Siobhan Suffrage Character Portrait: Mathias Carrel Character Portrait: Flint Cadash
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Siobhan has been awake for hours, rising before the sun had a chance to peak through the clouds. It had been a habit of hers since childhood, to rise while the cottage was still dark and cold. To savor the few moments she had alone before the hustle and bustle of the small mining town took over of course things changed due to the War of the Lions and by the time the red templars were through Siobhan no longer had to wake early to find some alone time. Alone time was something an orphan had in abundance.

Today she had risen and made her way through the dark and subdued inn to the chantry where she took solace and chanted for nigh on two hours. Having caught sight of the brightening sky, Siobhan figured that soon the mage would awake and the rest of their rag tag band would be along shortly. The Seeker Suffrage was aware that she’d been chosen for this assignment due to her inherent skill at diplomacy, her impeccable discretion and the innate deadly force that bard training had instilled in her. She’d been tasked with corralling a group of near strangers long enough to find the Sword of Andraste without them actually realizing that’s what they were looking for. The only person she could trust implicitly was the mage Mathias, who she wasn’t entirely sure of to be honest.

As the tall brunette strode back to the inn and the task at hand, she took in the sight of who just had to be the Dame of Orlais and her rather large retinue. Heaving a sigh, the seeker squared her shoulders and slipped inside the noisy and now very crowded inn, seeing that Matthias had already put in an appearance and yes it was indeed Francine Beaupre, who Siobhan knew of in passing but had never actually met. To say the other woman’s reputation preceded her would be an understatement and the seeker was sure that the Dame would turn out to be an extraordinary asset. As for the rest of their party, the ex-bard was aware of their names, their skills sets and loyalties but it would take being out in the field to form proper opinions.

Siobhan made her way to the gathered party silently and with purpose, observing how the mage and chevalier interacted. If they had any hope of accomplishing anything they’d have to learn how to work together. Something they could get started on immediately.

“Ah, yes we could use as many skilled hands as we can get.” Siobhan replied to the dwarf, her voice tinged with the slight lilt of Orlais as a careful smile crossed her expressive face. “I’m Seeker Suffrage, and now that we’re all here it seems perhaps we can repair to privacy and Matthias can fill us all in?” She finished, gesturing towards the mage and for the rest to follow along.