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While still looking very much like a fighting man, Rannon looked much less a soldier at the moment, and more a young man having a fine time. His strong, bare arms were covered in scars and illuminated by the firelight, but he looked almost innocent as he gazed into the pot and swirled it about to make sure it would stay heated.

His iron eyes switched to Feri, and he matched her grin with one of his own that showed his teeth. As she twirled her daggers and explained, his grin faded and he listened with the intensity of a hound on the hunt. He was indeed impressed at how easily she twirled the knives. If there was one thing he respected, it was skill. Gideon simply panted, looking between Rannon, Feri, and the food in intervals. He seemed to quite enjoy Feri's scratches, liking his lips lightly as dogs often did when they felt very nice.

"Swords, even big ones are the same in some ways," he told her, looking back into the pot. The food was just ready, he saw. "You always need to know where to step. Footwork is just as important as blade work. Reach is a big advantage, true..." he continued, pouring some of the meaty stew into a two bowls. "But if I don't know how to use it, someone like you with knives might get through my armor and gut me. You only need a few inches of steel in the right spot to kill someone."

He scooted over to her, and handed her a heated bowl with stew, steam billowing out of it. He set his own soup down, and pulled out a long Knife from his boot. "I have this just in case. Only when I need it, though, maybe to bypass armor. I can't handle one of these like you," he chuckled, and slipped it back into its small, makeshift sheathe. He crossed his long legs and sat just beside her, with Gideon squished between them. He spooned some of the soup in his mouth, and found he couldn't stop. A big body required quite a bit of food, after all.

Suddenly, he gave a burp. It sounded like a rumble out of his throat, and he realized at once he wasn't around his friends who never really cared. He patted his chest with his fist, and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he breathed.
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Feri could understand that about larger blades; while less precision was needed with those monsters, a lot more strength and speed was necessary to defend yourself, let alone attack some other fool. Feri would never be able to wield a sword like what Rannon had; she could barely cope with a shortsword, which was why she made do with knives. She was also pleased to see Rannon had a spare knife stuck in his boot too; she had multiple blades or varying sizes dotted about on her body. Made it bloody uncomfortable to sleep in, but it was worth it if stuck in close quarters and her knives had been thrown out of hand. It was good to see that even big, strong soldiers like Rannon liked a back-up plan. However, all talk of knives, swords and relevant skill went out of her mind as Rannon handed her a bowl of steaming hot stew. Feri barely managed to get out a rushed "Thank-You" before diving in with gusto, feeling absolutely ravenous. The last time the pair had eaten had been nearly half a day ago, with a few bites of beef jerky. Gideon - at this point - had had more food than the hungry duo.

Pausing half way through the bowl as her stomach began to fill up comfortably, she clamped her hand over her mouth to avoid laughing at Rannon, half-eaten bits of meat and gravy still being chewed. Swallowing painfully, Feri laughed with a gasp.

"Honestly, you look like a guilty pup being caught sneaking out of the kitchen with a ham bone!" She chuckled, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "You can drop the niceties around me, Rannon. I'm no hoity-toity maiden who's never farted in her life and faints at the thought of doing so. Anyway, as my Father used to say-" She paused, belching into her hand with a grin. "Better out than in."

Noticing his bowl of stew was nearly gone, she prodded him lightly in the leg with her foot, still without shoes just to ease the aching.

"You can finish what's left in the pot - I'm a lot smaller than you, and I definitely don't need as much food." The flickering of the fire was casting dancing shadows across Feri's face, accentuating her high cheekbones and face that was so unlike a normal Dwarf's. A Dwarf was usually round, broad, soft - Feri's pointed chin and sharp jawline gave away her human heritage; paired with a mischievous smile, ruddy skin and green eyes that shone like emeralds in the fire, one with a sharp eye could spot Rivaini there too.

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Rannon grinned at Feri's reaction. So tall was he that he found himself looking down past his nose at her (literally, not in a hoity toity way). With his armor off, and them this close, Feri would be able to see a jagged scar starting at his neck and cutting up until it crested his left chin. The way it was cut showed it was from a notched blade, probably a Darkspawn black iron weapon.

Still, the rugged young man looked just that, a young man. One that went from embarrassed to laughing with a playful grin. When Feri burped, Rannon patted his chest and then did one more. It came from deep inside his large chest, so it sounded just as much of a roar as it did a burp. Following that, Gideon let out a large yawn that sounded like a 'hyeow!' before the Mabari flopped over onto his side, panting.

Rannon chuckled and scratched the back of Gideon's ears as Feri offered him the rest of the stew. He was about to bashfully decline when she insisted she was much smaller than he and didn't need it as much. He did have to admit that he needed a lot of food to keep going. He turned his head to give her his thanks, but he paused.

He didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was because he hadn't laughed in quite awhile with someone, or perhaps most girls he had met didn't act, or even look very much like Feri. But his eyes met hers and he smiled, very much taken with how pretty he thought she was. His gaze lingered for a moment, his grin widening. "Thanks," he breathed as he turned back and lifted himself up to head over to the fire, scooping up the rest of the soup.

"We should probably sleep soon," he said to her, getting the last bit of porridge into the bowl. "We'll need to walk a long ways tomorrow. Maker knows I want to get to Redcliffe as soon as we can."


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Feri noticed Rannon's lingering gaze, and found herself not minding as she usually did. Despite her odd race, many who attempted to court her in Lothering either didn't realise or didn't care. The "not-caring" people she was touched by, as it was hurtful to have people recoil or swiftly change their minds upon realising her half-breed status (It happened far more with Dwarves than with Humans, but it was still noticeable when it happened)... but at the same time, she had standards. Having village idiots or boys hoping for an easy time flirt with her was tiresome, especially when whelps who were panicking about joining the army or Templars without having slept with a woman yet were looking for a quick screw, just to say they had. Several instances of this led to her mostly ignoring potential suitors, even just her friends jokingly having a go at her; shutting down lingering hands and eyes with a quick insult or blow to the head... or other more delicate places. However, Rannon seemed different. Less... brutish? Perhaps an odd word to choose, considering the battle-hardened and tall body of him - but youth still rang true in the man, alongside an easy-going attitude around her that seemed to be missing from boys in the past. It was refreshing - and she couldn't deny that despite the still haunted look hiding in the man's steely eyes, and the several scars peeking out from his clothing here and there, he was quite pleasant to the eye. Moreso than any from Lothering, that was for sure.

Realising that she too was holding his gaze, she offered up a pleasant smile at his thanks, hoping he didn't see the light flush of heat to her cheeks in the light of the fire. As he ate, her mind quickly returned to business - he was right. Redcliffe was still quite far, and they needed to make the most of the daylight. Putting her bowl aside (Which Gideon immediately began licking clean, eating the dregs and remnants of her meal that Feri had missed), she stood up and stretched again, her spine making audible and satisfying "pops" in the process.

"Good idea - but make sure you get some sleep too. I'm certain Gideon is better at picking up any danger than a half-asleep watchman would." She said with a light laugh, bending over to scratch Gideon's ears again, the hound still busy with polishing off her meal. He was a real sweetheart, that was for sure. Feri's mind turned to the old Fereldan myth of Mabari and their human's becoming extremely similar in their mannerisms due to an age-old bond, forged between companions. She couldn't help but agree with that one; Rannon seemed sweet too. However, it was safe to say that he certainly smelled a lot better than poor old Gideon.

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"You got it," he told her, referring to him getting some sleep. He knew he needed it, especially after the past week. He put up the cooking supplies, and while he didn't kill the fire, he undid a few pieces of timber to make it smaller. He didn't want to announce their position, even if they were just out of the wilds. The Darkspawn could have moved, or maybe bandits were around this region. "I'll take a small watch, but I'll head to bed soon." he told her.

With that, he set his rump down by the northmost tree in the clearing, watching and keeping an eye on things as Gideon nuzzled Feri's hand, and licking his lips in a satisfying way as she scratched his head. He plopped down beside her, but looked to Rannon to make sure the Soldier was alright where he was. Rannon nodded, holding up his hand to show Gideon he was fine to sleep by Feri. The dog let out a 'mreor' and laid his head down, his big body beside Feri but his eyes gazing at Rannon.

The Mabari fell asleep soon however, letting out s sigh as he rested. Rannon leaned against the tree, and of course as the hours went by his head turned from their meal to a melancholy that he often got when he was up at night, alone. He tried to bat away the sad thoughts, and glanced at Feri and his new Mabari. He grinned briefly. A part of his thoughts had been on his slain friends, and now he was wondering how they'd act around Feri, or if they knew how attractive he thought she was. Supposed they'd give him a hard time, in which he'd punch one of them, probably Leopold. His thoughts began to wander back to times they had together, with inside jokes and shenanigans that he wouldn't tell a soul about. He started to laugh silently, his smile wide and his hand on his mouth.

But soon, after another hour, he began to drift off. Gideon lifted his great head up when Rannon moved off the tree to lay beside it, using a root as a pillow. The large Hound lifted his entire body up and padded over to Rannon. "You got this watch, bud?" he asked the Mabari in a whisper. Gideon licked his face in response, and Rannon laughed some more before he pushed the Mabari back a bit. "Thanks, Dog. You make sure we're good, ok?"

Gideon sat up, planting himself between Rannon and Feri as Rannon drifted off into sleep. He found a comfortable spot and lost himself once again with thoughts of his friends, and how much he wished they were here to help him, and how many Darkspawn he would need to kill to make himself feel less terrible about him running from the slaughter of Ostagar. Never enough, he knew. The tall soldier's eyes closed, and darkness set in.

The sky was crimson past the whirling clouds, and the field was barren and lifeless. The earth was cracked and molten magma teased the eye with its glow from under. Rannon could hardly run. He could barely move, and it was impossible for him to do anything as his friends were raised before him, spitted on spears. Their chest cavities ripped open to make a grotesque parody of angel wings, their screams filling his ears as the Darkspawn hacked off their limbs, cackling gleefully. It was behind his friends that the ground erupted, and an ancient God lifted forth to consume the world in hatred. Darkspawn blades entered his chest and abdomen as they too, fell over Rannon. Bound by an unseen force and being hacked into by hellish blade... He lost sight of his friends as the great Archdemon pulled them into Oblivion. Rannon cried out...

He cried out into the early dawn, the Sun still blocked by the forest, heavy with tree around them. He jerked powerfully and rolled over, growling and screaming in both denial and rage. Sweat soaked his face, and his body felt half wracked with terror. Feri would see his thick, brown hair covering his eyes. But his teeth were clenched and mouth in a snarl, before he calmed down somewhat, his face growing more lax.
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Feri awoke with a strangled sounding yelp, bleary eyed and scrabbling around in the dirt for her knives, wondering how in the hell a Darkspawn had managed to sneak up on Gideon to attack. Only when she had grasped something and twisted around did she see Rannon, shoulders heaving with exertion and wild hair covering his eyes, fear seemingly reverberating from the clearly terrified man... and a distinct lack of Darkspawn. Shaking her own hair from sleep-laden eyes, Feri realised with a start she was brandishing a stick at her imagined attacker... not her knife.

"Uh... Rannon?" Throwing the stick aside hastily with a blush (Maker, hopefully he didn't notice that), Feri looked at the man tentatively as she began to stand up. "Are you - Ooof - alright?" Having tangled herself up in her blankets in her rush to wake up, Feri fell to the floor in the middle of her question, still looking at Rannon worriedly. Obviously, he'd had a bad dream. Well, either that or a snake had bit him in a delicate area, but with how calm he was now, Feri decided against that one, thankfully.

Now properly untangled from her blanket, the young half-Dwarf walked over to Rannon and knelt by his side uncertainly, wondering what to do or say. She'd been plagued with nightmares before, and as an adult, understood a certain embarrassment behind having them; especially among strange acquaintances. Still, she hardly judged Rannon, from what she could guess he had seen at Ostagar. It was enough to leave any fellow cowering, no matter how tough they were.

"Rannon?" Feri repeated herself after several moments of silence between the pair, pushing back strands of her messy, bed-headed hair from an obviously concerned face. Dried dirt from where she had fallen dusted her rumpled clothing, still warm and creased from what had been a surprisingly comfortable sleep, despite the bumpy rock of the ground.

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He didn't hear Feri at first. All he could hear was his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears. The images were subsiding, thankfully. However, waking up so suddenly took its toll on him and he couldn't see very well through blurry eyes, opening them to roughly take in a view of the ground. His large hands closed, dirt being scraped into his fingers as they turned to fists slowly. "I'm ok...I'm ok," he whispered to himself.

Gideon had walked over and nudged Rannon under the armpit on his opposite side, and Rannon fell back to land on his rump. Sweat beaded down his face, and his iron eyes fell upon Feri. His lips parted, and he looked taken aback for a moment. The dream had been so vivid, he felt like he had been back at Ostagar, almost regarding his meeting with Feri being the dream. But she was there, concern on her face.

He regarded her a moment, and seeing her there to support him despite having only met a day previous. He didn't know why, but it was welcome nonetheless.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice breathy and rough from lack of water during the night. "Just...my head went somewhere I don't want to revisit. Don't worry about me, ok?" He reached forward and rubbed a bit of the dirt off her cheek with the only clean part of his hand, the knuckles. It was playful, reassuring, and a sign of affection all in one. He gave her a smile, and met her eyes. "Thank you." he said earnestly, and then stood up to his full height. He reached a hand down to help her up, and would haul her up as effortlessly as a crane if she accepted.

"I say we eat while we walk," he told her, his visage yet again hard, like a soldiers. Gideon reared up and gave a few barks, excited to get going, and perhaps expressing happiness his best friend was alright. "I hope you slept better than I did," he joked to her.
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The sudden change back to normality - well, not entirely normal - but the sudden calmness was a touch disconcerting for Feri. She didn't buy that he was "okay", although appreciated that he was saying it out loud for a reason. Willing his body to realise that the nightmare wasn't real - and perhaps aiming to calm both Feri and Gideon down as well. Either way, she returned his smile, cheeks flushing under his touch and taking his hands, being pulled up as easily as a mother picking up her fallen babe.

"I slept alright. Had a strange dream about giant sheep, but it was nicer than yours by the sounds of it." Feri replied with a grin; concern still etched in her smile as her eyes searched Rannon's face carefully. While pleasant and more relaxed than before, there was a guarded look to his steely eyes; a certain tightness to his expression. The nightmare must have been frightfully vivid for him.

Breakfast didn't take long to make; a gloopy porridge that didn't do much for the taste buds, but it was warm and filling enough to keep all parties interested. Gideon especially seemed excited about it, bounding around the dying fire-place as he waited for all of the bowls to be filled. Then again, dogs got excited about a lot of things. Stirring her bowl thoughtfully, Feri looked to Rannon; the pair had dusted themselves off from the dirt on the ground, and looked about ready to set on the road again. Not before what Feri assumed was a well-needed chat with Rannon.

"I can't help but worry, you know." She began, thinking back to what he had said earlier. "I know we practically just met, but I can tell you're a good person. If you need to talk through stuff... well, we're stuck with each other until Redcliffe, so you may as well make the most of me." Chuckling lightly, part of her wondered what would happen at Redcliffe. She had no real plans - head to the coast, look for her father? Or to Denerim, to see if any had made it there from Lothering? While both fair plans, she knew what she really wanted to do; go with Rannon, and help bring Loghain to justice. It was what he deserved, and Feri had known people who probably perished at Ostagar, good people who would never see their family again. "Hopefully Rannon wouldn't mind more of my company." She pondered to herself as an afterthought.

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Her comment on her own dream gave Rannon a grin that showed his teeth. Even if it was true, it was a funny coincidence of the dreaming cliche'. He appreciated her lightheartedness. He was a bit too dense to see her flushing, and her eyes on him. But he had to admit he noticed that she didn't seem intimidated or judgemental of him like some of the women he'd known in his life. Well, not that he'd known them.

He'd not had time for a woman for much of his life. First he had to actively protect his younger siblings, coupled with helping his parents with their shop. Next thing he knew he was a soldier, and the brothel life never suited him like it did for some of his mates. He always figured he'd get married after he gained Sergeant or Captain status. Then again, that was also in a world where his friends and army weren't slaughtered.

He seemed much more calm now, though quiet. He placed his hand over Gideon's back and smoothed his fingers over his hound's fur. He gave a small smile at that, but mostly just spooned the porridge down his throat. He ate like it was a chore that needed to be done. Old habits died hard, it seemed.

Feri's words broke his reverie, and he looked up at her. She had this uncanny ability to make him smile. Maybe it was because he thought her pretty, but honestly she had that understanding yet in-your-face way about her humor. Still, he shook his head past his fading grin. "It was just a dream." He told her. "I've been having bad ones since Ostagar. A part of me..." His voice trailed off. The soldier shook his head and breathed, taking a few moments before giving the rest of his thought. "Part of me thinks it's punishment for running away. I probably deserve it."

If there was one way Rannon was like a Dwarf, it was his stubborn stoicism, and a truly fatalistic view of the world. He'd wake up screaming every night, and take it like it was how he was to live now, gritting his teeth through it just as he had through the Darkspawn infested forest. The thought of the forest brought a small fire to his eyes. If he was being honest, he couldn't wait to get into combat again and spill Darkspawn blood. He placed a hand to his forehead, over his eyes. Tufts of his brown hair were between his fingers. "Maybe they'll subside. Maybe I just need to get to Redcliff and make sure Loghain pays, and then I'll feel better."

He didn't know. How could he? Justice would surely be something to accomplish with his borrowed time here, at least. "You make me feel better." He bluntly said aloud. Though even with him being unapologetically blunt, he made sure to keep his hand over his eyes for a few more moments, and then to not look at Feri for fear of embarrassment. "So does Gideon." He patted his Mabari once more. Gideon was busy slurping his porridge, but seemed to relax as Rannon stroked him.
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Placing her swiftly congealing bowl of porridge on the floor as Rannon replied, Feri supposed it was unsurprising he felt that way. Certainly not correct, and Rannon was being more than harsh on himself. But in many walks of life, if you witness death, no matter the scale or horror of it, you are left feeling different. Survivor's guild plagued more than a few in this land, and Feri herself had had moments of it herself - she understood what he felt, and could hopefully help him out of it.

"Punishment? Oh, Rannon. You fought your battle. You didn't desert like Loghain did, you just had the wits to save your own life when everyone else..." She paused uncomfortably; she hadn't been present at Ostagar, but she didn't need much imagination to know the death toll there. For the King, countless soldiers, and even a handful of Grey Wardens to die, the battle must have been an impossible one to live through. Feri shook her head in simple refusal of what he had said. "Don't judge yourself for being alive. I've been there - definitely in a different context, but it's still a dark path to go down." So is revenge... She thought to herself wordlessly. While Loghain had to be brought to justice for his treachery, there was a fine line between that and vengeance. Revenge rarely brought about any peace in those affected - it could turn too quickly into something nasty and blood-filled.

"You make me feel better." Feri was glad that Rannon's eyes were averted at his outburst, as her face once more flushed crimson. Cursing her seemingly ever-rosy cheeks, the young half-dwarf had to consider that she was blushing rather a lot around the warrior. Usually she kept minimum contact to men, or were completely at ease around them, treating them no differently than a friend. Perhaps because they had known each for only a day? There must be something beyond his comeliness for me to be reacting so oddly. Feri cleared her throat before answering, willing her cheeks to calm down.

"Well... I'm glad! When we first came across one another, you had quite the grim look in your eye. Admittedly, that could have been something to do with all the blood you were covered in, and then the Darkspawn we killed, not to mention your injuries - " She paused, deciding the tangent had gone on long enough. "What I mean to say is that I'm glad you weren't alone, traipsing through those wilds. Gideon here is fine company, but I find sentience in your comrades goes a long way for feeling better. Helps conversation too." Standing up with a sigh and nudging her unfinished breakfast towards the Mabari with a friendly smile, Feri dusted her hands off from where she had sat upon the ground. "You make me feel better too. Not only have you already saved my life, but things seem a little brighter with someone else around. It helps that you're a good talker too; I don't think we'd have as much of a good time if you were a mute." Said with a light grin, Feri offered her hand to the still sitting Rannon, just as he did earlier; except the height difference was a bit more comedic, and hoisting him up would take a bit more effort on her part.

"You'll have my company and my swords to Redcliffe and beyond, Rannon. I may not be Fereldan, but I know a friend in need when I see one. I also know a traitor - and they're looked down upon everywhere." Feri said, serious up to that point, where she paused and frowned. "Except in Orlais, actually. Maker, they're an odd sort. We're staying in this country on our travels, right?" Feri only hoped the joke masked the hopefulness in her tone. She had some doubts on whether Rannon would want to do what he needed to do alone, but she'd feel too guilty leaving him at this point. He needed help... besides: They made each other feel better - why ruin something like that?

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Rannon did his best to hide a smile. He'd had never been accused of being a talker, but he certainly felt like Feri was one. It didn't bother him truth be told. He sometimes needed someone who would get to the point and help smooth things over. Though, he could tell she could be blunt when she wanted to be. It was a good quality to have, after all. The tall young man reached out his hand and held hers, standing up on his own but keeping her hand in his as a sign of companionship. His smile was warm, but his eyes glinted fiercely. They had adventure to get to.

Gideon placed his paw atop their two hands, panting and giving off the biggest smile as he did so. He barked, and they were off.

The woodlands here were not nearly as thick as the Kokari, but it was still a chore weaving through the trees if they didn't pay attention. North northwest was their direction. Gideon scouted ahead often, though always within eyesight. He bounded above jutting roots and covered their flanks. Rannon had his armor on and sword within easy reach, but he doubted he'd need to use it anytime soon.

Still, needless to say that he was surprised when the first sound they heard other than the typical forest noises wasn't Darkspawn screeches, but jaunty music. He exchanged confused looks with Feri, before he unsheathed his sword and crept closer to the treeline. Slowly, he pushed aside ferns and leaves to reveal a small township, with a great hall of timber and stone at the center. Closer to them on the outskirts of town, was a fenced in circle of dirt that serfs were cleaning as if for some ritual would be performed over it later.

Once his mind caught up with him, he realized that it was a Champion melee; a competition. What was occurring in town seemed to be some sort of festival, however.
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To hear such merry music after the past few days was jarring to say least; the last thing Feri had expected to hear in the woods was the familiar tunes of lutes, drums and flutes in the distance, bringing with it a sense of frivolity that was so displaced it became unsettling. For once brief moment of madness, Feri wondered if the Darkspawn had suddenly found love in the music of the land, and were baiting travellers towards them; such ridiculous thoughts were discarded immediately, although the thought of a Genlock in a minstrel's outfit was too amusing to avoid smiling about it.

Joining Rannon besides the pushed-aside greenery, her smile turned into a look of confusion upon seeing the town.

"Are... are they having a tournament?" She questioned, eyebrows raised in surprise. While further north than Lothering, surely the news of Ostagar and the Blight must have reached the township already? And with such obvious lack of outer defences, the populace would fall prey to the swarm of Darkspawn in mere hours... all it would take would be waiting for the horde to arrive. Even as Rannon and Feri had traversed the harsh Kokari Wilds - and the hardly easier beginnings of the Hinterlands - they had still run into more pockets of Darkspawn. Scouts once again, or simply outlying groups that had wandered away from the main herd; but one Darkspawn was enough to be a threat to this township. While the ones they had run into in the wilds had been dispatched with ease (This time the pair had surprise on their side, making wiping the blighted bastards out far easier, and without much in the way of own injuries), more were sure to follow. The Blight couldn't be stopped by mere attrition of the Darkspawn forces. All you could do was move out of their way until the Grey Wardens showed up. And after Ostagar... the situation didn't look particularly salvageable.

"Surely they must have heard about the Darkspawn? Why would they be holding a competition with a danger like that on the horizon?" Unless the town hadn't heard about the Blight, in which case they were in some deep trouble. "I think we should pay them a visit. If not to stock up on food and potions, but to let them know about the threat. If they're being this blase about it, the Lord or whoever rules here doesn't know how bad it truly is." Looking to Rannon, she wondered how he would feel about a brief stop. She knew he was more than eager to get to Redcliffe, but could they really pass by on an innocent town like this? Besides, they were in some dire need of supplies. The Darkspawn seemed to have scared off any game in a 10 mile radius. Roots and berries could only do so much for an empty stomach; especially for their poor Mabari comapanion. The poor fellow hadn't been able to chase and eat a rabbit in days.

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The powerful young man crouched next to Feri, their faces on an even level as they gazed at the township. He pointed at a few key locations to show Ferelden Guards stationed with poleaxes. "They seem to be wary, but that's not enough. You're right." Rannon mused, pondering. "I guess a fifth blight is too hard to think on as a possibility to some." He said to her. His stomach growled suddenly, and Gideon tilted his head at the sound. He smiled shyly at the noise, but his game face was back almost immediately.

"Probably a good idea that we stuck around and tried to help," he agreed. Rannon nodded to his two companions, and then stood tall, marching outside of the brush. Gideon followed suit, and indeed the Guards would have been suspicious of a man (even a hardened Fereldan soldier) and a Half Dwarf waltzing out of the treeline if not for the Mabari Warhound at their heels. The dogs were legendary for being loyal to those who are deemed worthy.

"Where is your Bann? I've urgent news for him." Rannon said to them when they stood before the entranceway, his voice holding an undercurrent of authority. His broad chest deepened his voice, making him seem like a veritable sergeant. The Guardsmen regarded him curiously, and looked to one another, a bit confused. "Bann Heathor sees no one. Not since his wife took ill and died of the wandering plague." the first said. The second one pipped in. "It might be your lucky day, ser. The melee we're holding will give you an audience with him."
"Have you not faced any Darkspawn?" Rannon asked.
"Of course we have." The Guard replied. "But Arl Eeamon has assured our Bann that it's nothing to worry on. The Kokari has always been dangerous." The young soldier didn't buy that for a second.

Rannon exchanged looks with Feri. Gideon borfed.
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Meeting Rannon's look with raised eyebrows and pursed lips from confusion, but didn't say a word until they had passed the guards and entered the town.

"Those guards were far too nonchalant to be talking of Darkspawn so... easily." She noted uncomfortably, glancing around the town. Although hardly bustling (people were likely gathering further along the wall for the tourney), it had a cosy, warm feel about it. Children played in an alley-way with a battered leather ball; a woman had set a freshly baked loaf of bread in her window to cool, enticing Feri's hungry stomach with it's fine smell; and in the distance, the hustle and bustle of an excited crowd beginning to grow met their ears, bringing with it the music they had heard outside, and more tempting scents of cooking street food. It was a typical town, excited to an event - but in the current situation, the atmosphere seemed artificial, bringing with it a sinister air that she couldn't shake off. Nevertheless, the smell of food was too strong to ignore, and her gaze turned to Rannon. "Come on - let's get our bellies filled before we start searching for this mysterious Bann."

Gideon seemed to like the idea of food, as he jumped on the spot and barked enthusiastically.

The creepy vibe that Feri got from the town subsided somewhat as she, Rannon and Gideon reached the tourney field - it was pristine at the moment, still being prepped by workers. Around it, one could see tents in the distance, no doubt where the various competitors were getting ready; horses stamped in a makeshift stable nearby, and several vendors were selling their goods and food not too far from the fence marking out the tourney circle. Chattering and laughing people milled about around it, still buying merchandise for the occasion, and food to eat while watching. Feri couldn't particularly understand why people would have the stomach to eat during something as potentially bloody and fatal as a competition such as this, but then again, Ferelden's were a strange sort to outsiders. Either way, Feri didn't take long to find the closest food stand and pay for some well-deserved dinner.

"You know, I find it odd." She mumbled as she chewed on the pie she had just purchased (It had some form of unknown meat in there, but she didn't care enough to question what it consisted of; it was hot, covered in a spicy gravy, and tasted amazing to the hungry rogue), brushing some crumbs from her chin. "Why would the Bann be interested in a tourney if his wife had just died? Wouldn't he call it off? Or, at the very least, just not show up? A strange thing to do, for a grieving widow."

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Rannon had to agree with Feri's observations. Perhaps the people themselves did not feel in danger, and acted natural because they truly were natural. But the Bann bringing the town on the brink of revelry during a Blight was really strange. Gideon did not seem off, the Mabari happily panting and following Rannon and Feri wherever they walked throughout the town. It would have seemed pretty strange to see a short woman wandering about, with a broad shouldered young soldier nearly twice her height following her, his head high and hair/ears raised like a guard dog, whereas the actual dog seemed not to have a care in the world as it bounded by the two of them.

Gideon was a lot more intelligent than most folk would think, but the societal aspects of a town being casual when it shouldn't be wasn't his expertise, unless they were faking it to further an end. If he was happy, these folk must be happy themselves... for some reason. It did little to ease Rannon's mind, however. But this was a town, and the three companions did need to stop. He knew Feri would enjoy it here, and he had decided they'd stay a day for her benefit at least. Now, however...

He'd just bought a trencher, most of the wheat bread over ham and cheese was practically inhaled by Rannon as he gazed at the workers fixing the tournament up. His wrought-iron eyes glinting whenever the sunlight broke through the fringe of his earthy hair. The rest of the trencher he tossed to Gideon before he finished, who caught it easily and chomped down the rest. Feri spoke to him as she ate, and he listened, of course. However, he knew they'd not get an answer to her questions without meeting the man himself. Not only that, but these people needed protecting. If the Bann wasn't going to do that, Rannon would speak to him, himself.

"I'm going over there," he announced suddenly, taking a step toward the pavilion the melee participants were now gathering in. He intended to compete.
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"Wait, what?" Her reaction was dubious to a degree, and with no wonder - was Rannon really in any state to be competing in a competition like this? While she could somewhat understand his motives - the Bann was to meet with the victor of the tourney, and the three of them needed an audience with the elusive lord - it was still a bridge too far in her eyes. "Do you really think that's the best thing to do right now? I mean, we haven't even tried to get into his manor yet." She said swiftly as she tried to keep up with Rannon's long strides, hoping to convince him to try something else first. While he was more than skilled with his sword in the heat of battle, both the young warrior and herself were fatigued after their arduous journey through the Kokari wilds. Not just physically, but mentally too - Feri was still on edge, flinching at sudden loud noises, and keeping her peripheral vision in check. An attack could have come from anyway out in the wild, and she still hadn't assimilated to the oddly quiet town they now stood in. With how on edge Rannon was every night from waking up from nightmares, Feri could only guess he felt a lot more antsy than she was.

However, Rannon seemed to have made his mind up quite firmly, and Feri could do nothing but follow him to the tent - letting the remnants of her pie fall into Gideon's waiting mouth with a hint of sadness as she walked. As they paused in the quickly shortening queue before the tent, Feri ignored the several incredulous stares she was receiving from others - no doubt they assumed she was to sign up like Rannon, and were already underestimating her. Although tempting to prove all of those gaping idiots in the tent wrong by competing in the melee, Feri decided against it.

"Look, as far as we know, this could be one big trap. We don't know anything about this Bann Heather, or whatever he's called; nor do we know about the people who live here." She whispered in soft tones, stretching up on her tiptoes to try and reach Rannon's ear. All she managed was his shoulder, but she got her hushed words across well enough. "If you insist on joining this, I can't promise I'll be able to help you if you need aid. I can hardly just watch from the audience either." Hopefully, if Rannon had some sort of plan, she could do something to help. Sabotage his opponents? Swap all of the health potions for rum to confuse others hoping to heal? Or did he have something in mind that was more in line with her sneaking ways?

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The sight of the comely stout lass nearly bouncing up and down trying to keep up with the tower that was Rannon probably looked comical to some. Gideon joined Feri, bounding to and fro and letting out sneezes as if he too was speaking to Rannon. The Warrior was, ironically, as stubborn as a Dwarf or a hound on the scent, and kept moving until he made it to the tent. The suggestion of getting into the Bann's manor wasn't something he'd thought of, but it seemed a bit too rogueish to bypass security to him unless absolutely necessary.

He made it into the tent, and to his surprise, Feri followed him into it as well and whispered to him in hushed tones. He blinked, and regarded her. He didn't know whether to feel flattered or not she wanted to make sure he was ok. Gideon sat behind her, his head up and attentive. A few of the Knights, Squires, and Men-At-Arms gave hushed whispers at the Mabari, as well as what they must have seen as Feri the 'mutt.' Rannon knelt down and ignored them. "I'll be fine. I promise-"

"Oi, what's she doing here?" one of the Knight's said, his short cropped red hair matching his newly grown beard. He looked less than amused. A few of the men seemed unenthusiastic about questioning a man's companion when he had the mark of honor which was a Mabari Hound striding by confidently, but another man pipped up and tried to get a few laughs. "You seem to have a stubby legged stray following you, lad. Might want to kick 'er in the rump and send her off back home."

That had Rannon standing up again, and turning to the man that gave the remark. "Pray to the Maker we don't get to fight, or I'll break off a piece of you and feed it to my actual dog." Rannon promised. Most of the men in the room weren't as young or large as Rannon (though he wasn't the only bruiser), but they were all hard fighting men, or at least learned in the blade. There were a few jeers and some wary looks. The man in question looked like he was about to retort before Gideon bared his teeth. Rannon's iron stare emphasized the threat, and the man backed down...for now.

The scarred young soldier turned back to Feri, and put his hands on his hips. "I think this is where I'm supposed to be. But something here doesn't smell right-" Curiously enough, Gideon was sniffing the ground at this exact moment. "I trust you in checking the town out. I'll try to gain an audience with the Bann here. But you're savvy enough to get things done discreetly." He then gave her a fierce grin. "Don't worry about me. I'll handle these guys. Take Gideon and look around, and you might want to get us a room-er, rooms." The slip of the tongue had him nearly stumbling over his words. "I doubt the bulk of the tournament will be today, so we'll meet tonight for drinks? Touch base?"
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A dark glower had instantly appeared on Feri's face at the comments of the onlookers in the tent. A scathing remark had already come to mind when Rannon retorted on her behalf. It was certainly witty enough, but she still retained a sour glare towards the Knights. By the looks of some of them, they'd not even seen a real battle. She'd come across many a man in her time who thought he was big and powerful for having fought a small contingent of bandits here and there in their life. Just a handful of Darkspawn would turn them on their heels - as such, Feri didn't think most of them would be able to cope against a hardened soldier like Rannon. Still... she wasn't overly fussed on his plan. But with such stubbornness, the young rogue had no choice but to comply.

Face changing from a scowl to a grateful smile towards Rannon, Feri replied quietly, to ensure nobody would overhear. Most had lost interest after the first bout of jeers anyhow. "Alright, you can have it your way. I'll sniff around town, see what I can find out. Even if the guards haven't come across Darkspawn, they must have heard something from Ostagar already - and that should be enough to put anyone on edge." Her smile grew as Gideon plonked down on his haunches beside her, almost as if following Rannon's orders that the two should team up. "Gideon should keep me safe - just make sure you look after yourself too. I wouldn't put it past some of these knightly bastards to play dirty." Ever after having only known Rannon for such little time, Feri felt a pang of worry at thought of him in a tourney. Likely no more dangerous than Ostagar, or even the Kokari wilds that the trio had just traipsed through... but it was still very different. And he was very alone in that arena. Even the audience would likely feel cool towards him, preferring to favour their locals over a complete stranger, fresh out of the wilderness.

"I'll get us some decent quarters - just make sure you're in one piece when we meet up." She added jokingly, wanting to part on a lighter note with a grin. The Mabari at her side barked, seemingly eager to get their investigation started. And so they did - Feri and Gideon parted ways from Rannon at the tent entrance, and began to walk the town.

As it was when they entered, Feri found most of the streets to be quiet, but pleasantly so. Excited talking of the tourney could be heard coming from houses and side-streets, but that was no good to the young rogue. She wasn't quite so bold as to ask any of the wandering housewives or beggars for information on the Bann or Darkspawn. Even outside of a tourney tent, Feri stood out quite a bit due to her smaller-than-usual stature. She'd easily stick in the minds of people (Especially with a Mabari almost as tall as she was trotting alongside), and the last thing she or Rannon needed was rumours flying around town of strangers asking odd questions.

"Guess I'll have to stick to the shadows on this one. Do Mabari's have a stealth mode, Giddy?" She asked the dog quietly with a smile as they crept into a shadowy alley. Gideon issued a minuscule bark in response, ears pointed and alert. Stifling a laugh at the dog's response, Feri began to ponder where would be the best place to pick up rumours. The inn, for sure - but it would be pointless going there now. Most people would be at the tourney, and she'd probably be able to pick up some news later when she booked a room. Rooms. Booked some rooms. So that left either the home of the Bann (Servants of any lord, no matter how small and unknown they were, loved to gossip about their employers.) or the guard house. With one of their major issues being that they couldn't get in to the Bann's manor, Feri decided that it would have to be some eavesdropping outside a guard's window. Hopefully it was a short window...

As it happened, Feri couldn't find a window proper for her height. It was bound to happen, but she had been hopeful nonetheless. To deal with this, the young rogue found a comfortably dark alley by the large stone building that acted as guard headquarters. It was surprisingly large, for a town this big - which made it all the more odd that so little guards were put on the perimeters of the town. Even if they weren't aware of the Blight, you'd expect at least some protection from the Kokari wilds. They were called "wild" for a good reason.

"Alright boy, unless you have more hidden talents, I'm going to have to leave you down here." The rogue said to Gideon as she prepared to climb up the rough stone walls; the only windows that were covered well enough on this side were on the third floor. Much too high for a half-dwarf and her pup. As for the pup, he sat down as if guarding the alleyway they stood in. Feri could swear he looked unhappy about not being able to join her, however. Thanks to the rough stones, she was able to scale the walls easily enough without earning too many scrapes on her fingers, and as she reached the sill of an open window, clung there as she heard voices drifting through. One voice in particular dominated the room, and it was both very loud, and very angry.

"What did I tell you fools about following your orders?! This isn't some piss-ridden bandit ambush that we're keeping quiet, you morons, this is important!" Already, Feri's ears were pricking up. This definitely sounded like a conversation she wasn't meant to be hearing, and so she risked a peek over the windowsill, nails digging in further to the wall as she stretched. In the room were two fairly young looking guards, looking quite scared at the boisterous man before them. Said man was much older, taller, and muscular than the pair, and the patronising sneer on his face made it quite clear that he thought they were very much beneath him. At a glance, his armour and what was clearly his office told Feri he was a Guard-Captain... but there were also many valuable items about his person and room that were well above his paycheck. Strange indeed.

"We... we're sorry sir." One of the younger ones stammered out, eyes glued to his superior's chest plate to avoid looking him in the eyes. "B- but my sister was there sir! I couldn't just lie to my mother, she misses her-" His words were quickly cut short with a vicious, back-handed slap across the face, and he staggered at the force of it. Grabbing the young man by the shirt, the Guard-Captain pulled him close and up so the much shorter man was now nose-to-nose with him.

"Now listen here, worm. I couldn't give a shit if you sister was raped by an Ogre and then strung up by her tits. You mention what happened at Ostagar in this land again, and I'll make you and your mother wish she'd never pushed you out of her gash! The same goes for you, Fernley!" The Guard-Captain barked, and the other young man jumped at the sound of his name. Loosening his grip, the berated guard slumped to the floor, and then scrambled back to his feet. A raised red mark sat on his cheek, accompanied by angry, bleeding grazes from the gauntleted hand that had struck him. "As far as the people are aware, the Darkspawn are not an issue. They never have been, and if any word goes around that they are, make sure everyone knows they are just rumours. Foul lies, spread by rogue mages, or Grey Wardens. Anything that'll keep the citizens quiet and subservient. Is that understood?" His tone was quiet now, but dangerously so. Even Feri felt a shiver run up her spine as he talked; this fellow was dangerous, that much was clear.

"Yes sir." Fernley and his battered friend complied in a subdued tone, and the Guard-Captain calmly walked back to his desk, sitting down as he dismissed them. Feri's grip on the stone began to slip beneath sweaty hands.

"Oh, and one more thing." The guards paused at the door fearfully. "If any survivors from Ostagar come through here, they're to be detained and executed. Bann's orders - we don't have any time for deserters. If you do as you're told Marius, I may be kind enough to spare your sister from this. As long as she can keep her mouth shut too." Marius' bottom lip quivered, and he nodded stiffly as he and Fernley left the room.

As the door swung shut, Feri ducked back down from the window and began a shaky descent to the floor. Her foot missed a stone about three feet from the bottom, and she fell to the ground, landing firmly on her rump beside Gideon. Ignoring the rogue's groans of pain, Gideon licked her face happily, glad to see she was back.

"C'mon, Giddy." She muttered, standing up and rubbing her rump tenderly. "Let's go find a room."





Drumming her fingers on the stained table top absent-mindedly, Feri glanced up hopefully as the door to the Inn swung open again. Unfortunately, it wasn't Rannon. She and Gideon had been sat in the quiet corner spot for a good few hours now, even after Feri had done some additional recon after her spying of the guard tower. Marius and Fernley had been spotted on the streets, and the former was now wearing a full-face helmet. Probably to avoid people asking questions about the scuff on his cheek... or to hide tears. He had been fairly young and green after all, with not a hair on his chin. As for rumours, there was a disappointing lack of them outside of the tourney. The merchant's market had a few decent stories from Denerim, with one fellow mentioning something about King Cailan being late back from Ostagar. But that was no news to her, and nobody else seemed to think of the worst possible conclusion that could be. She had risked a small conversation with the merchants, working war and battles into the conversation as subtly as she could before asking about Ostagar. All they could say was that a large amount of soldiers and Grey Wardens had gone to fight a small amount of Darkspawn, and that they're only be delayed due to bad weather, or the Chasind natives. A question about Lothering gave her even less information; that they hadn't visited there in a good few months, and that they'd heard rumours of it being attacked by rogue mages. Another man corrected him by saying it was the Chasind, and another jumped into the conversation by saying it had been razed to the ground by either Qunari or dragons. All this did was annoy the young rogue, who knew it would be far too dangerous for her to correct them. And so, since then, she and Gideon had been sat at the local Inn, waiting for Rannon to come back.

"If he died today, I'll kill him." Feri muttered into her pint of ale, earning a quiet whine from Gideon as he placed his head on her lap. She scratched his ears comfortingly, glad at least that Gideon was with her. Even being unable to talk, he was fine company. And she was fairly sure she'd have been refused the two rooms from the nearly-packed inn if he hadn't sat at her side and glared at the innkeep.

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Rannon watched her leave with Gideon, and then blinked when he caught himself staring. He sighed, and clenched his teeth within his closed mouth. He groaned lightly, like a dissatisfied hound. He realized he enjoyed her smiling at him a bit too much, which in turn had him thinking that he was starting to fancy her. The thought had him shaking his head, and he scolded himself to focus. This wasn't the time for that. Nothing would come of it anyway, you're going to bring Loghain to justice, then you're going to...

Rannon couldn't help but sigh a second time. He didn't plan on living long after that mission was complete. Why complicate things? And why hurt a perfectly nice...sweet girl. He'd have to keep a rein on his budding desires, and focus on the task at hand. Fortunately, the thought of Loghain brought a bit of fierce anger to him. Rannon never showed too much outward emotion, but even the subtle fire in his eyes would have been noticable to someone who cared to look.

A stout man with wide shoulders strode into the tourney tent, a resplendent tabard upon his breastplate and a full helm was in his hands. He sported an impressive, drooping mustache. "Alright, you lads are here to sign up for the tourney I take it?" He asked, rhetorically. "Right, well too bad for all of you. We can't make the Grand Melee a full scale, battle. So some of you lot won't make it to the field tomorrow. You'll do what we call preliminaries. You'll draw slots, and fight in single combat just once. Every winner makes it to tomorrow's fight. All losers get the hell off the field, or you'll get hurt. Is that understood?"

'Yes's and 'Aye's were heard all around. "Well come on then. We'll get this going," he said, placing down the full helm on the center table. Inside were small pieces of parchment, each with numbers on them. Rannon found himself near the middle of the line, and once he made it to the fore, he reached in to find he was number 19. It didn't take him long to find out who he was facing today. His eyes fell upon his opponent, who just happened to be the loud mouth from earlier.

The red haired Knight snorted at the twist of fate, boasting about how he could teach Rannon a lesson. Rannon hadn't been listening. He just stared at the man hard, and then strode out into the tourney field, where all the fighters began filtering out of the tent towards. The sky was blue and bright, and the tourney grounds was well tilled, with good, flat soil. Rannon took a position at the right, nearer the town.

It took less than five minutes for the competitors to get ready, and it was at the yell of the Master-of-Arms that the swords were drawn. Rannon held his large two handed blade at the ready, point toward his opponent. The Knight before him had a low guard, and when the 'ring' sounded, their blades met with a clash of steel at the center. The Knight leaped to the side, hoping to feint with a stab before sweeping his blade upwards.

Rannon half turned to send his hilt to knock aside the stab, but he saw the feint for what it was a fraction before it was revealed, using his blade to knock the man's sword down and into the dirt. Rannon's hilt slammed into the Knight's face, sending him staggering. He whipped his sword around faster than Rannon anticipated, leaving a cut along Rannon's cheek, but it didn't stop the young soldier from banging him atop the head with the flat of his blade, ending the fight with a resounding 'clang.'

The other fights did not last much longer, and when the preliminaries were done, Rannon simply sheathed his sword and left the field, giving a nod to the Master-At-Arms, who smiled to him and asked him and the other winners to stay so he could lay down tomorrow's ground rules.




That night, Rannon strode into the Inn's common room just as Feri was giving up hope of him showing up. He had a very fresh cut on his cheek, but other than that he looked fine. He gave her and Gideon a smile as he strode over to them and grunted when he sat down. "I'm starving," he said bluntly, giving Gideon a scratch behind the ears. "You two get stuff done?" He looked to Gideon as he asked, but then his eyes met Feri's, hinting he was asking what had happened while he'd been fighting.
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