Drunken Conquistador

The Restless Fires

I have some tentative interest in this. Let me read the OP and work out a nation concept

let chaos be undone ;; drunken conquistador && vanq && el taco taco

Pascal flinched internally as he noticed tension how the First Enchanter reacted to his words. The Knight Commander had to control himself to not reach for a sword that wasn't there anymore. Pascal couldn't blame her for it however, the scars of the Mage-Templar War were still raw in the minds of many. And maybe they would never heal. But as Knight-Commander of Kirkwall he was determined to rebuild the confidence and respect that the Order once enjoyed. Show the world, and specially the Mages under his care, that the Templars once again would stand as a bastion of peace and security. Maybe it was a lofty dream, but he would try his best. Pascal wouldn't let the confidence that the Divine placed upon him go to waste.

"I'm sure you will love it." Pascal remarked when the First Enchanter revealed that she never had visited the Marches. "I've never been to Kirkwall myself but despite everything said about it I've heard the city is beautiful." And he immediately regretted speaking. Even to his own ears it sounded silly and out of place. That wasn't a good way to give a first impression to his peers, lest they think of him as some addled fool. Damn his nerves. And now the mask was starting to feel uncomfortable, though he didn't dare remove it. Pascal had no idea if it would be considered an insult and decided not to risk it.

Pascal was about to point out that the Kirkwall Circle had an elf as First Enchanter for years. But fortunately he shut his mouth. The new First Enchanter probably wouldn't like being compared to Orsino. Besides, she had a point. As much as he wanted to believe that their arrival would be unopposed they couldn't simply count on hopes and dreams. Someone would probably use the bad memory left by Orsino's last desperate actions as propaganda against an elf in a high position in the Circle. And the fact that the new Viscount had spent years living in Orlais would also be a strong arguing point against them. After all, two of the three most influential people on the city being Orlesians, or at least considered such, would anger the independent-minded folk of the Free Marches.

The Knight-Commander realized that by bringing with him several Templars from Hasmal would also do little to earn them any good graces with the locals. His intentions were only to put people he trusted and knew were competent in positions to support him. But now he perceived that he would also essentially be limiting the influence and power of the locals. There was nothing that could be done now, he couldn't just return to his retinue and tell them to go back to Hasmal. Nor he wanted to do that. Besides, it would take a while to recruit and train a satisfactory number of new initiates anyway. The presence of several experienced Templars, even if not from Kirkwall, would surely help while he worked to reestablish the Order in the city.

"I'm sure you will." Pascal replied even as he wondered if her first remark was an insult or compliment. "After all, the Divine choose you. It surely means that you at least have the necessary potential to make this work." He added in a reassuring tone. Though by what he had seen since arriving in Val Royeaux, there was probably something else at play here. Shaking his head slightly Pascal decided that it was something to think about in the future. Now they had other priorities.

The Knight Commander silently brought a chair closer to the desk. Paperwork was good, it was something -relatively- simple and Pascal was good at it. Sometimes he even found himself enjoying the mind numbing effort that accompanied the mountains of parchments the Templar officers had to deal with from times to times. And as the new Knight Commander of Kirkwall he would probably be dealing with much more of the sort for the rest of his -hopefully long- tenure. So it was a plus that he was at least used to it. Except for casualty reports, those he could do without for a multitude of reasons.

"Do you need anything from us? Documents, declarations or the sort?" Pascal asked as he tried not to fidget with the clasps of his mask. "I've brought copies of several documents from Hasmal. They're probably with my Templars." Thinking of it, Pascal realized that his people were probably awaiting for him near the entrance. The fact that they hadn't be allowed to enter the ceremony too gave the Knight Commander a short moment of panic before he controlled himself. It was just a question of ceremony and decorum, if the Divine had any desire to harm Pascal he would've been purged with the rest.

OOC: Out of curiosity was there any mention of what happened to the Lyrium statue that Meredith turned into?

A Dragon's Roar: Beyond the Blood, Beyond the Blight

Kingdom of Ferelden. Somewhere in the south

"Nah." Julien replied dismissively as Wystellia started the fire. "Found a couple of lost travelers in the forest. Just had to give them the right directions." He joked as he approached the fire for warmth. "Not far from here." He continued, this time more seriously. "We should stay alert and ready to move during the night. I can stay on watch first today" He offered as he sat down close to the fire. "And no, I don't need healing."

Just by sitting down and letting his body relax a little Julien felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Still, he realized with a defeated sigh, relaxing completely wasn't an option. There were Darkspawn nearby and they couldn't afford to let their guard down. The duelist groaned unhappily at the thought of a bad night of half sleep. But when the other option was essentially suicidal there was little that could be done.

On the bright side at least he wasn't suicidal. Though there was still a long way to go for Julien to believe that their quest had tangible chances of success.

"You know that I wouldn't mind skinning the fox before you threw it on the fire." Julien said evenly as he stared at their dinner. "But then again, I hadn't had much luck with the traps either." He sighed. "I need actual materials. Like ropes, springs and metal. Maybe once we find a town." Julien paused as he scanned the treeline for any potential threats. "Speaking of which, did you find anything that we could barter or sell?"

Julien took a moment to watch the treeline again. Whatever relaxation he had felt before was gone now and he suppressed a second groan. Their situation wouldn't get any better, and the faster he accepted it the easier it would be. Still, it would be nice to spend at least a couple nights in a warm bed without having to worry about Darkspawn lurking in the shadows and hunting their own food. Maybe when they gained some distance on the Horde they could treat themselves with a day off? Doubtful considering their circumstances.

In the remote chance they succeeded, the Kingdom of Ferelden would reward them greatly. In this case Julien decided that he would treat himself with a day or two of getting spoiled. Like he used to when he won a tourney back in the Free Marches. Surely nobody would mind too much if he slacked off a day or two in this case. But then again, prizes and rewards weren't the reason why he had joined the Order. And with the odds stacked against them it was better not to cultivate false hope.

"I almost forgot!" He exclaimed suddenly as he retrieved the pendant and extended a hand to show it to Wystellia. "I found this on a nearby bush right before the Darkspawn attacked. You think it may be worth something? I don't have much of an eye for jewelry but even if it's not valuable I think we could fool some village girl into overpaying." That was of course, if they even found a way out this damn woods back into civilization. But the Marcher Warden preferred not to voice this kind of thought. Wystellia probably had her own fair shares of worry.

A Dragon's Roar: Beyond the Blood, Beyond the Blight

Kingdom of Ferelden. Somewhere in the South

Julien ate his own apple fast. Devouring the fruit with a few hearty bites as they made their way through the forest. The Warden judged that their progress was good. And even though it wasn't unopposed the fact that the number of Darkspawn they met was enough for the two of them to handle, so far, was a good sign in Julien's books. If they were to stumble upon the Horde they would've done so already. Or at least that was what he told to motivate himself. And so far it was working.

"It was about time." Julien agreed as the trees got sparser. "Less chance of those abominations sneaking up on us." By the time they got to the clearing he was starting to feel just tired enough to not oppose the decision to make camp. And immediately set out into the woods to gather material for traps.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Usually he would carry some basic trap material with his supplies. But as with most of his equipment it was lost at Ostagar. So Julien was relegated to simply gathering sticks, twigs and rocks. While also somehow figuring a way to turn these materials into something actually capable of protecting or at least alerting them. How he would do that in the current conditions was still an unknown factor to him. If he were to be honest with himself, he was starting to doubt that he would be able to achieve something worthwhile without the proper material like metal shards, springs and mechanisms.

Still, he at least had to try. And with a sigh he stood up from where he had thrown the assembled material to have another look around the clearing. Maybe the previous occupants had left something useful? Not likely but it was worth a try. And so he gave the abandoned campsite a few more rounds. Julien was on the verge of giving up when a slight metallic glint on a bush by the edge of the clearing. Approaching carefully he cautiously brushed the leaves aside to reveal small necklace stuck on the foliage. The former duelist quickly snatched the trinket and brought it closer to study it.

The jewel was simple. The pendant had a small engraving depicting a crescent moon and a thin while the chain looked thin and fragile. The metal was silver in color but Julien wasn't sure if it was true silver. And of course, he realized bitterly as he pocketed the jewel, it was useless to his current needs. On the bright side, maybe he would be able to get a few coins out of it if they returned to civilization. Goal that would be much easier if he could fashion at least a few traps to protect them while they rested.

"I would have better luck getting us dinner." Julien mumbled to himself. "But I doubt Wystellia would fare much better in my position..." And it was then that growls interrupted his line of thought.

Drawing his sword and turning to face this new threat, the Warden groaned internally as two Darkspawn emerged from the woods. As if they hadn't had enough trouble for a day already.

"C'mon you ugly bitches!" Julien taunted. "Come and get me!" He frankly didn't knew if the Darkspawn could actually understand what he had said. But the hurlock armed with mace and shield charged at him. Julien waited a bit before making his own move, preferring to jump aside at the last possible moment and then backstab the Spawn before it could turn around. The beast howled in pain and anger as the sword slashed at his upper back while the Warden was forced to pay attention to his second foe, a genlock armed with a maul.

The wild swings of the smaller Darkspawn forced the Warden to give ground before he could finish the wounded foe. And soon enough the two Darkspawn were advancing together against the Warden. Julien found himself at a disadvantage, specially now that he lacked his shortsword and the convenient support of his mage companion. He decided to act before the Spawn could truly start attacking together and lunged at the hurlock, who was somewhat closer to him. The beast raised its shield to protect against an obvious overhead swing, leaving his lower body open to a well placed kick on the shin. The blow was enough to break the balance of the hurlock and Julien pressed his advantage, stabbing straight at the now unprotected face of the hurlock.

Unfortunately for Julien, the short time in which he had managed to kill the larger Darkspawn was enough for the genlock to close in. And the Warden saw himself almost getting his leg smashed by a maul blow. Julien was once again forced into the defensive as his enemy's weapon had more reach than his.

Casting a quick glance backwards, Julien tried to guide his retreat towards the trees. In the hopes that the enclosed space would constrain the effectiveness of his enemy. That part wasn't as hard as the rest. Considering that Julien could easily stay just out of reach of his enemy and lure him towards the treeline while he kept taunting the genlock.

As he got closer, Julien gave one last backwards jump that put right with his back towards a tree. The genlock realized that and the Warden could swear that the beast smiled as it charged again howling with the maul raised over its head. Once again Julien waited a few moments for his enemy to get closer before dodging. Leaving the tree shaking as it bore the full brunt of the blow.

Before the genlock could recuperate Julien was already on the offensive. And with a quick blow that buried his sword on the Spawn's head, Julien won the small skirmish.

Controlling his breath as he pulled his sword out of the foe, the Warden nervously surveyed the area. There could me more Darkspawn lurking at the ready at this very moment. And even if not, the fact that their campsite was already discovered once meant that Julien himself would get little sleep this night.

let chaos be undone ;; drunken conquistador && vanq && el taco taco

For most of his childhood Kirkwall was a mere word to Pascal. The name of a far off city that the young son of a shoemaker would never see in his life and where strange things happened. When he became an initiate in the Order Kirkwall became a little more important. After all the city had a Circle and sometimes a Templar from the dreaded Gallows would visit Hasmal and give more details to the abundant rumors that circulated about the City of Chains. The saying "At least it's not Kirkwall" became popular among both Templars and Mages of the Circle as a joke and way of coping with their reality. When Pascal became a fully ordained Knight, the troubles in Kirkwall had only worsened and many looked with worry towards the place. It was no surprise to him when the tensions between Mages and Templars exploded. Nor the fact that it was a Mage that delivered the first blow. Specially when one would take all the rumors about Knight Commander Meredith's ruthlessness in consideration. What surprised Pascal was that the Mage destroyed the city's Chantry instead of striking directly against the Order.

The weeks and months following the Kirkwall purge were filled with apprehension and fear. Both Mages and Templars at the edge of their nerves waiting for the other to strike first while a hundred different rumors arrived every day. By the time the situation could be truthfully assessed, the Kirkwall Templars had indeed triumphed and now Circles all across Thedas were flaring up in rebellion, the then Knight-Captain was steeling himself for the inevitable moment when he would have to turn his blade on his charges. But the inevitable never came and the Circle of Hasmal continued to act as if nothing had changed. That's not to say that Hasmal was spared by the War, for despite their declared neutrality the Circle was still beset by hostile bands and emissaries from both sides trying to draw more manpower and resources for their sides. Besides an increasingly anti-magic population on the city itself.

Four years later the Breach opened and it somehow made things worse. The Inquisition arose and eventually closed the Breach, finally bringing Hasmal out of its isolation during the process. And amassing an incredible amount of power and influence by the end of the conflict. And that brings Pascal to the present, as the new Divine herself choose him to become the new Knight-Commander of the Kirkwall Circle. By this point Kirkwall had long stopped being a joke and turned into something to dread and abhor. The crowning example of how Circles should not be run, of how bad things could get when there was no harmony or cooperation between Templar and Mage. And now Pascal was one of the three people in charge of fixing it.

For some reason Pascal didn't felt as desperate as he would've thought. Yes, Kirkwall was a mess but the worst had already passed right? Meredith and Orsino were dead, Hawke was nowhere to be seen and now they could start again. The city was a blank slate. The Knight-Commander wasn't naive enough to think that it would be easy but he actually enjoyed the idea of the challenge. If the Viscount and the First Enchanter proved to be reasonable fellows like him surely the Circle and the city of Kirkwall would be rebuilt far better and greater than before. But that was a big if considering the two of them would probably be Orlesians elbow-deep in their dreaded Game. Who could say that they would put the well being of the city over their own ambitions. And that's not even taking in consideration the reaction of the locals at having three foreigners imposed over them.

It was with that line of thought that Pascal wrote a hasty letter to his relatives back in the city of Hasmal before taking the road along a small honor guard to Val Royeaux. Arriving in time to attend to the ceremony at the wonderful Grand Cathedral.

Not even in his wildest dreams Pascal would have been able to come up with such marvelous place. And as he was led to the audience chamber Pascal suddenly felt himself under dressed for the occasion. Even in his finest outfit, which granted wasn't anything to gasp over, and the hastily bought mask that made him feel like a character in one of the cheesy novels back home. But then again everything in Orlais was opulent and beautiful, that was clear from the moment he sighted Val Royeaux. Even the sister that guided him to the audience chamber had a strange air of sophistication and class.

The ceremony that followed would forever be engraved on Pascal's mind: The imposing walk towards the Throne. Divine Victoria shining and terrifying in equal measure in a way that made all the rumors Pascal had heard about her not seem so outlandish anymore. Her speech, to the point and inspiring. And the mass of people gathered at the chamber in such number that even whispers seemed increasingly loud. Though Pascal had to admit that the amount of masked people bothered him. He felt as if the crowd was judging him silently and he half fancied hearing derisive sneers and remarks. But that was probably just his imagination. As if someone would dare to talk while the Divine spoke.

As the three were called to a side chamber to deal with the documentation, Pascal was finally able to study the two who would be his colleagues for the rest of his life, or at least the foreseeable future. A female elf and a man. Both behaved perfectly at the ceremony, which implied that they were comfortable or at least familiar with this kind of situation. A fact that actually didn't told much about the two. Still, Pascal decided to watch himself around the two until he could get to know them better. Suspicion would harm their combined efforts but he preferred that over the possibility of being manipulated by his supposed colleagues. The Order had suffered greatly during these last years and if a Knight Commander was to be reduced to a pawn in political games the decline would never stop.

For some reason he wasn't surprised to see that the Viscount wasn't wildly optimistic either. Though Pascal erroneously figured that the man would at least be a little more happy at receiving such honored and influential position.

"No one said it would be easy." Pascal replied in a calm reassuring tone. "But we've been given a task by the Divine herself and I intend to see it done to the best of my abilities." He glanced quickly towards the elf, Petra. "As for acceptance, I think that after all that Kirkwall has been through the nobility and common folk alike won't put much opposition to our efforts to rebuild the city." Or so he hoped, but that was better left unsaid.

let chaos be undone ;; drunken conquistador && vanq && el taco taco

Race: Human

Age 38

Birthplace: Hasmal. Free Marches

Appearance:

The fifth son of a shoemaker in the city of Hasmal. Pascal grew up a devout Andrastian, like his parents. Admiring the Templars for their role of holy warriors and protectors of the common folk against the perceived dangers of magic since his earliest days. His admiration for the Order coupled with the desire to give his impoverished family one less mouth to feed was what drove the young Pascal to become an initiate of the Order.

Pascal adapted easily to his new life, though he still maintained some sporadic contact with his family. Finding joy and a sense of duty in the daily rituals and training and quickly integrating with the other initiates. It did not took too long for the young Pascal to be fully inducted into the Order. His generally devout behavior and good physical conditioning ensured that he completed the training in an adequate amount of time. And so Pascal did his vigil, took his vows and received his first dose of lyrium.

Now a proper Templar, Pascal was put under the command of Knight Captain Elias Temig. A templar with more moderate leanings. The time under the Knight Captain served to mold Pascal's views into a more moderate stance. A stance that preached more cooperation and understanding between mages and Templars to fight the growing paranoia and distrust growing within the Circle.

Pascal's time under the leadership of Knight Captain Temig ended when the esteemed templar was killed in a skirmish against a group of maleficarum and hired thugs whilst escorting a bunch of apprentices to the Hasmal Circle. Despite the death of the Knight Captain, Pascal was able to rally the remaining Templars and drive back the assaulting force. Managing to kill the maleficarum and most of the mercenaries. While also ensuring that the apprentices remained unharmed and in the hands of the templars. Upon his return to the Circle Pascal was rewarded with a promotion to the rank of Knight Captain.

The next years passed quietly, or as quite as they could under the circumstances. Pascal grew into his new role and tried to instill the same values he had learned with the late Temig upon his new recruits. But then Kirkwall happened, the Champion helped to slaughter the mages and took control of the city while the Circles around Thedas fell into chaos.

Fortunately the mages and Templars in Hasmal had leaders with more common sense than the norm and while the Mage-Templar War raged all across Thedas, Hasmal became a islet of peace. Though by no means it escaped completely unscathed. As both sides tended to sometimes ignore the Circle's declaration of neutrality for better or for worse. Though mostly for the latter.

The Conclave brought hope that the conflict would soon end. But then the Breach opened and somehow the situation worsened. And still the circle of Hasmal stayed at the sidelines, only watching the conflict unfold. Until the Circle itself had to request help from the Inquisition to protect its mages from an increasingly hostile population. Essentially taking the side of the Inquisition on the conflict.

The Breach was eventually closed and peace returned to Thedas. As the reconstruction efforts started all across the continent, Knight Captain Pascal was chosen among the worthy candidates to be the new Knight Commander of the Kirkwall Circle. A task which will no doubt prove daunting even if going solely by the city's reputation.

A Dragon's Roar: Beyond the Blood, Beyond the Blight

Kingdom of Ferelden. Somewhere in the South.

Julien merely nodded as he walked and sat by the fire. Propping the now broken spear near it to let his fishes cook. Usually he would start skinning and preparing the fish. But he had lost his dagger at Ostagar and using his longsword to do the job would probably be awkward and he would end up hurting himself. Of course, usually he wasn't also lost in an unknown forest with a Darkspawn horde possibly lurking just beyond the treeline ready to pounce on him once his guard was lowered.

Julien remained silent as he nibbled on his half cooked fish. The taste was far from ideal and he was starting to miss even the suspicious porridge he had been served at the camp back at Ostagar. But its better than starving, he told himself with a sigh. As his mind started to wonder if there would be enough of him left to end up as a Genlock's dinner. Or maybe even a Hurlock. Still better than what would happen to Wystellia if she was captured alive. The aforementioned elf that had also started to speak.

"Traps sound like a good idea." Julien replied. Now those he knew how to make and pretty well. "Though we might lose some time gathering necessary material and crafting them. I think we should wait until we make camp to start working on that." He suggested as he scrapped the leftovers of the first fish and started on the second. Who was now more cooked than the first when he started. Though the fact did not make the fish taste much better.

The duelist chuckled slightly as Wystellia joked.

"I'm not sure about that plan." He grinned to her. "You're too small to be a hurlock and too big to be a genlock. And I'm surely not shaving my hair for that. Unless we do happen to find Darkspawn with hair and beards. But if we end up finding those I wager that we could make some money dragging it around and charging people a few coins to see the Rare Hairy Spawn." He joked back. "We could dress him in fancy clothes and call him Harry. Of course, we would have to tame and train him first."

After that Julien returned to his fish. Insistently ignoring the part of his mind reminding him of their hopeless situation and probable death. He was pretty well aware of the fact. But if he stopped to dwell on it he would only end up moody and distracted. Julien still hadn't got to the point where he was actively looking to be gutted by a Darkspawn because he got careless.

"So..."He started as he threw the stick with the rest of the second fish on the ground. "Ready to move?"

A Dragon's Roar: Beyond the Blood, Beyond the Blight

Kingdom of Ferelden. Somewhere in the South

Julien remained quiet as Wystellia spoke about her time in the Alienage. As much as it would be polite to say something he figured that they weren't close enough for the words to have any real meaning. Plus Wystellia might not be comfortable touching the subject. And as she withdrew from the river Julien turned back to the flowing water. If he could catch just one more fish, he said to himself, just one more and he would get out of the river and dry his boots.

"Well..."Julien started awkwardly as she finished telling him of her trip to Denerim. "For what is worth I'm sorry for your loss." Now that he could say with sincerity. The duelist knew very well the pain of losing a parent. And though his circumstances were better, if you can truly apply this word to this kind of situation, the sentiment was still there.

"Just one more things they don't tell when you sign up." He joked in an attempt to lighten the mood at her last commentary. To be frank however, there are lot of things the Grey Wardens don't tell their new recruits. But then again, if the details of the Joining were common knowledge he doubted that many would be willing to join the order. Julien himself, he had to admit, would probably not even think twice about the possibility if he knew that he could die just from the initiation into the order. And if he hadn't joined the order he wouldn't be in this mess.

Shaking these thoughts out of his head Julien once again tried to focus on the river. He had joined the Wardens on his own free will and there was nothing that he could to change it. Wondering about the past would do no good. And it was with a clear head that he finally managed to spear a second fish.

"That should be enough." Julien declared as he walked out of the river. "It's not much but should be enough to get us going some more time." He admitted as he shook of his legs on the river banks. "Wanna get a fire going here or do you prefer to look for somewhere else to camp?"