Valor looks the mage up and down, and then crosses its arms. "Truly I cannot challenge you to a test of skill at arms or strength, since your pursuits in the mortal world obviously lack in those departments. I instead propose three riddles. Each success earns you a reward. Do you accept my terms? There is no penalty for failing, only that the aid which I offer you cannot be given without first earning it."
Mouse looks up at Erast and shakes his small head. "Spirits are very fond of riddles, and very good at them."
The human noble in the lead sneers down at the lovelier of the two elf maidens dressed for the fine day before he curls his lip contemptuously at Merin's failure to impress him. "See the pretty bride...Curb your tongue and learn your place, Knife-Ears, before I teach you respect of your betters!"
Shianni, growling angrily, darts to the left, towards a heavy mason jar. Soren shakes his head violently at her, and the human noble turns too late to catch the heavy jug right in his face, knocking him out cold! He falls in a heap. One of his companions rushes over, hand on his dagger hilt. "Are you insane?! That's Vaughn Orion, the arl of Denerim's son!"
Shianni drops the jug immediately, holding her hands over her mouth. "What?! Oh Maker..."
The two humans help their unconscious friend up and sling him across their shoulders. One points at the group of Elves."You KNife-Ears have a lot of nerve. This will go badly for you..."
They then beat a hasty retreat, allowing the two finely dressed maidens to approach while Shianni goes to sit down and cool off, Valendrian, the Hahren of the Alienage, asking everybody what happened.
"I doubt this will end well..." said one of the two women before they turned their full attention on Merin and Soren. Soren's fiancé stands next to him, a pretty girl with her hair done up in a braid, but a very plain look about her overall. Merin's bride to be however is gorgeous, long blonde hair hanging to her shoulders, finely cut dress, she seems a beautiful rose among daisies. "We've never been introduced...I'm Velana" she says boldly, smiling and bobbing in a cursty to her intended.
Lady Elanor kisses them both once more. "Good, I was hoping tot he Maker there would be no argument from either of you. I will be leaving with Lady Landra to stay with her at her estate for a while, so that you two would not feel like you need me to watch over you. Go do what you must, but make sure you say goodbye to your brother before you head to bed." She bobs her head to Dairren and Iona, then turns and walks away, the very image of noble grace and dignity.
Dairren rolls his shoulders. "Kaidan, there are a few more hours of daylight left, if you did want to spar once more before I depart with your father in the morning? Unless you had something else more pressing to do, then otherwise, good night and I hope to see you both again safe and alive when I return."
Iona bobs into a curtsy before both of them, eyes shining with interest at both young lords but staying slightly behind Dairren, knowing her place as a servant.
The ancient ruins reek of decomposition, and several roots jut through the ceiling above their heads, not ten feet in distance. None of it sags alarmingly however, so the foundations are at least strong, for now. Harad stands at the entrance worriedly, but refuses to come any further inside as the two elves hesitantly explore. The door at the far end of the passage opens silently enough, revealing a long hall way. Directly in front of them is a statue of what looks like an Elven goddess with wings and a spear, although there is no name for her. Its placement, an elven statue situated inside a human-appearing made ruin, speaks of ancient lore when Humans and Elves lived side by side long long ago before even the Tevinter Imperium.
Tamlen ventures into the hallway, stopping to inspect the statue before dismissing it, taking more interest instead of the several forms of what appear to be skeletons dotting the floor, leaning against the walls, propped up on roots, or simply laying in a tangle, broken weapons and shields not far from their stretching skeletal hands.
The young Hunter winks back at his friend and draws his sword and dagger. "This beats listening to old tales or hunting for rabbits, eh Lethallin?"
Tamlen:
The Spirit nods and lifts one gauntleted hand to extend its first finger. "Riddle, the First. I drive men mad for the want of me. I'm easily broken but never free."
He then stands back, no sign of smugness or amusement to await the Mage's answer.
He shows no reaction at Erast's answer, then lifts his second finger. "Riddle the Second. What belongs to you that others use more than you do?" Again he stands back to await Erast's answer.
He then extends his third finger. "Riddle the Third. I am a danger to great men and women, from the eldest to a child, I am a looming threat. Cities may burn at my touch, alliances may crumble at my words, but the simplest man has no want to fear me."
"Well, it's a real pleasure to meet you. I'm Merin. Wish we could have met under...better circumstances." the groom-to-be bows slightly, smiling.
This was going to be yet another mess involving craziness, people getting hurt, and idiotic nobles putting their noses in places it didn't belong.
He looks over to the direction Shianni went, smirking and shaking his head. "At least things are never boring around here, though. Are you alright, by the way?"
I accept my mother's love and let her move on. I then respond to Darrien. I crack my knuckles. "So, looking to get beat before you go embarrass yourself before the darkspawn huh? I am ready to go when you are."
I look over at Iona and awkardly bow to her. "I would be happy if you would watch mi'lady." I hope that didn't sound too strange. Focus on the bout.
I head over to the training grounds and pick up the biggest sparring sword they have. "This'll hurt well enough." I look back at Darrien, "Ready to get spanked"
Velana smiles at Merin and thenglances over at Sorin and her friend, who seem to be awkwardly trying to hold hands but it looks very forced between the two. Not everyone here it seems is as eager to be married after being introduced.
She nods at Merin's kind question, glancing after Shianni as well. "We are fine, but I'm worried this may not end well...Shayla let's go look and see how Shianni is doing, then head for the tree. No running off you two!" She shakes her finger in mock-sternness at the two young men and then the two brides walk off, laughing and arms linked, already fast friends.
Sorin winces after his intended in what looks like a half-hearted grin, then glances around for a change of subject. His face goes pale and he tugs on Merin's shirt. "We may have another problem..." he says quietly, nodding in the direction he had just looked.
A tall, black-and-grey haired Human stands near the tree, wearing bright silver armor, and he bears a sword and dagger at his waist. He bears a thick short black beard shot through with grey and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. "Another Human...let's go get him out of here before anyone tries to start trouble huh?" Sorin looks very meekly at Merin, hoping he will take the lead.
Iona bows and smiles at Kaidan and then turns to watch the two recieve their practice swords from the attending guards. Dairren plucks up a similar blade, and takes a few practice swings, then nods politely to Kaidan, chuckling. "As straight forward as ever, I see."
The attending Guard walks forwards, detailing the rules of the sparring match, and already, several dozens of unbusied guards and servants are eager to watch. Everyone here has grown up around the brash and stout-hearted Kaidan, watching him become an adept swordsman. Ser Gilmore is here as well, cocking an eyebrow at the duel with a chuckle.
The Sparring weapon is a standard, blunted Longsword, it deals Non-Lethal damage.
The guard then offers Dairren a small dueling buckler, which he accepts, and then he offers one as well to Kaidan. Whether or not he takes it, he bows out of the rapidly forming ring of onlookers.
Initiative:
Dairren
I hold up my hand to refuse the buckler.
I heft the awkard longsword for a moment and a look of annoyance appears on my face. I then smirk at Darrien. "Lucky you, I am giving you a handicap on this one." I swing the longsword two handed for a moment trying to get accustom to the lighter weight. I hate these flimsy swords
I stand ready.
Initiative:
Dairren sinks into an offensive stance, then darts forwards, swinging his practice sword expertly. Although he is certainly no real swordsman, he is not soft around a sparring field. Despite his several years of training however, he mistimes the vital step forwards and his thrust is easily parried. He actually gulps, remembering the tourney where he first fought against Kaidan. It hadn't ended well then either...
I smirk at the clumsy swing and make an attack of my own.
Attack:
Deep inside I am cursing this tiny sword.
The young elf pretends to look utterly shocked and offended as his future bride tells him not to run away. Like either of them would run away. After the two ladies leave, Merin elbows his friend and smirks. "We'll that went better than expected."
His grin swiftly dies, though, at the sight of the man in armor. "Why couldn't this day just have been the day of stinging insects? Or flies? Why did it have to be nobles?"
And with that, he leads his cohort ahead to stave off the upcoming potential problem. "Excuse me, sir!"
Dairren dodges backwards a pace from the clumsy yet powerful attack, then slashes suddenly at Kailan's exposed side, scoring a hit with his blade to mild smattering of applause from the crowd. He performs a graceful leg to the onlookers, feeling a little more confidant after finally landing a blow on his long-time rival.
He even lets himself grow a bit cocky then, adopting another fencer's pose. "Not much like our last match is it, milord Cousland?" There is polite chuckling and admonishing shaking of heads from a few of the servants and guards watching.
A Guard puts up his hand, then signals to Kaidan. "Do you concede the match milord?"
The human looks over at the two approaching elves, then, strangely, crosses his arms across his breast and bows formally. "Good day! I understand congratulations are in order to you both on this fine day, assuming that your attires mark you as the lucky grooms? Where are my manners. Duncan, of the Grey Wardens, at your service, and delighted to be a guest here at this joyous event." His air is light, friendly and warm, and although many throw him suspicious looks, he does not seem at all out of his element here, with not a single human around as he politely talks to the grooms.
I laugh. "Ha I let you hit me." I tightly grip my sword and power attack.
Attack: For:
Confirm Crit: For an additional:
OUCH
Merin raises an eyebrow at the action, pretending his best not to be so intensely surprised by a human that isn't ass.
"We are the grooms, but I don't think anyone told us to be expecting a Grey Warden. Did anyone tell you?" The elf looks to his friend to back him up.
Out of simply something to do, he scratches his palm and tries to figure out how to go forward.
Dairren's short-lived triumph seems spoiled by Kaidan's next strike, which floors him with a less-than-healthy smack to his head. He goes down in a complete beautiful cartwheel and lands heavily on his face, bleeding quite profusely. The duel is immediately called and Chantry priest rushes over to inspect him. The guard takes Kaidan's sword with what looks like a suppressed guffaw of laughter making his face beet red. Several of his fellows and the servants all appear to be concealing great mirth.
Ser Gilmore laughs openly but respectfully. "Truly, the Cousland line has a Lion amidst their brood. If my lord will permit?" He walks forwards, retrieving a practice sword and adopts a fighting pose. An old sparring partner of Kaidan, he proves to be a more challenging, fairly matched opponent.
Duncan smiles and bows again to both of them, making Sorin speechless to say the least. His sharp grey eyes however scan the young elf groom up and down however, weighing and assessing. "Your Hahren, Valendrian, invited me. I visit every few months, looking for recruits to join the Grey Wardens. You are Adaia's son, are you not? She was a fine woman, and I will admit, I wished to test her for recruitment when I first met her years ago, although she married soon after we met, and I abandoned the prospect. In truth, I ask a great deal of questions, and I have heard from several families here, not to mention your Elder, that you have also incredible skills in certain...less than popular-social arts. But I am remiss, today is your day for joy, and I will not intrude any longer than I need to visit some old friends, see if anyone here is willing to join, then making my graceful exit." He nods deeply to the two again.
Initiative
Galdrian looks around warily before going up to stand in-front of the elf statue. He felt odd looking upon something and he knew that the writing must mean something about this woman, goddess, hero, but to know he was an elf and he could not read his own language, filled him with anger and hate. For the first time he felt himself hating something other than the Darkspawn. It was humans that had brought his people this low, humans who made his people slaves or even worse. Humans who kept his once great people scrounging a life out of forests that crawled with monsters and Darkspawn. He made a silent vow then lookinjg upon the elvish statue, that while he may hunt darkspawn he would never look upon humans with aught else but contempt. Once the darkspawn threat was done, and he would be apart of that change, he would rally the elves and force the cursed shems to change, even if it took the point of an arrow to change it.
Nodding to himself with that done he turned to look at his companion. "We should be quick, have you noticed any tracks hinting at a beast the shems spoke of?"
Perception
"It was a good fight....not really but I'm trying to be nice.
I smile at Gilomre. "I'm good for another go." I take the sword from the guard and ready for Gilmore.
Initiative:
Merin's mouth just hangs open for a minute, shocked that a Grey Warden was in the Alienage and knew who he was and who his family was. After several moments, he closes his mouth and nods. "Well, um, Duncan was it? It's good to see someone like yourself here. We don't get many people of legend showing up in the Alienage anymore. At least during our waking hours. But um, yeah, we might ought to check on the rest of our wedding party, just to make sure one of them doesn't go crazy again."
So before he can make a worse fool of himself, Merin grabs his friend by the arm and drags him a fair distance. "A Grey Warden?! Here?! I mean, this day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I mean, it doesn't make much sense that one is here! I mean, we're gonna be in for a seriously weird day. I can feel it in my bones."
"Gold."
"My name."
Galadrian's sharp eyes do not pick up any sign of any 'demon' but what he does see would be enough to certainly send frightened humans running for the hills. As they traverse the hallway, the skeletons behind them suddenly rear up, clutching broken weapons, dark, glowing lights filling their empty eye sockets and giving translucent flesh to their rotting bones. They all shriek angrily, eyes blazing with madness, and charge!
Skeletons:
Initiative Order:
Galadrian
Tamlen
Skeletons (4)
The spirit nods approvingly at the correct answers to the riddles, but notices his pause at the third and final one. Mouse, however, rises to the occasion. "Pride" He blurts out.
The Spirit of Valor nods again. "All correct, you are not without your wit in this place. So for passing my test, you have proven your worth of my aid. For the first riddle..." It holds forth its hand. Three phantom vials hover above the gauntlet. "In case you are injured here, these will mend your flesh, but know that these rewards will vanish if you are able to leave here."
It then pulls from the rack of weapons a simple medallion. "Second," it proffers the amulet. "To help protect you against the attacks of the Demon, for its wroth will be terrible, and its claws cut to the soul."
"Third," It then points to Mouse. "You claim to aid your companion. If you wish it, I will bestow upon you knowledge of a new form, more useful to help defend yourself. A Mouse is fine when you wish to hide, but the form of the Wolf may serve you better in your battle ahead."
Mouse however looks apprehensive. "I don't know...I'm not exactly wolf material am I?" He looks sideways at Erast, unsure.
Gilmore
The young, red-headed knight sinks into a battle stance, then darts forwards lithely, slashing with his blade at the young lord in an experienced manner, honed by years of training and sparring with his fellow soldiers.
He however mistimes the thrust and is easily parried.
Galadrian gasps in surprise barely snapping off a shot at the lead skeleton shouting out a short cry of "Ware behind us!"
Duncan bows in farewell, then receives a warm-hearted hug of welcome from Valendrian, the elderly elf barely reaching the man's shoulders but they still clasp arms like old friends anyways. Merin gets the feeling however that Duncan is still watching him.
Sorin meanwhile just breathes a sigh of relief. "I'll say, but we better hurry!" He points to the tree, where everyone is finally gathering. The Revered Mother of the Chantry is attending the Alienage today, a lovely woman in the standard dress of her station, and she waves the two grooms in warmly.
The two brides stand at the ready, bouquets in their hands and smiles on their lovely faces. Shianni seems much better and cheers them on with the best of the men. As they approach the alter, standing side-by-side with their intended, the Mother begins. "Blessed be this day, in the sight of the Maker, as we join in holy matrimony, these four young people, together on this happiest of days. Lift your voices to the Maker and give thanks for his Mercy, for he is a loving God and..."
She cuts off however when someone shrieks in alarm. Stomping through the crowd comes a squad of Denerim soldiers, headed up by the black-eyed Vaughn. He storms into the middle of the procession, eyes ravishing the women of the crowd. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm...having a little party, and we are terribly short on female guests..." He laughs darkly.
"Milord, this is a wedding!" exclaims the Revered Mother in utter shock as the soldiers push back the men from the crowd with drawn blades.
"Ha! If you want to dress up your pets, and have tea parties, feel free, but don't pretend that this is a proper wedding...Now, we're just here to have some fun, aren't we boys?"
His companions both chortle darkly. "Yes sir, just a good time with the ladies, that's all!"
"Let's have that one, the one in the tight dress and...where is the b@!%+ that bottled me?!" He points to several women in the crowd, not to mention the two brides!
"Over here Lord Vaughn!" cries a lackey, grabbing hold of Shianni.
"Get off of me you dirty Shem!" she cries out.
Vaughn laughs evilly. "Oh yes I'll enjoy breaking her...And see again the pretty bride..." He advances but finds his way cut off by Merin, the only one brave enough to stand in his way. "Ah yes, you again...This will teach you to respect your betters, peasant scum" A sudden blow to the back of Merin's head knocks him out cold.
He awakens to Sorin bending over him in relief. "Thank the Maker you're awake! Everybody is in front of the tree. Vaughn took Velora, Shianni, all the girls from the procession. Valendrian is at the tree, with that Grey Warden, maybe they have a plan!"
Sorry, yours was longer than normal, have fun!
The leading skeleton takes the arrow in the flesh of its chest, and staggers back as if in surprise. The creature roars, jaws stretching wide open in a roar of pain and rage.
Tamlen darts in then, slashing with his sword at the leading skeleton.
The Skeleton's head is sliced off, and dark, boiling liquid that smells horrible sprays out of its neck stump. It falls onto the ground, where its flesh melts into a foul pool of dark liquid. The bones then fall apart completely, leaving a tangled mess.
The other skeletons charge straight at the two elves!
at Tamlen
at Tamlen
at Galadrian, charges past Tamlen
Tamlen AoO
As the thing rushes past Tamlen, he scores a nasty cut along its stomach, and although it roars again, dark blood coating Tamlen's blade, it keeps coming! Its slash however wildly misses Galadrian. Tamlen is not so lucky, he deflects one slash but cries out as the other savagely rips his armor open with a rusty blade.
"And we definitely can't be late to our own wedding." He walks over with his friend, standing up at the Tree, knowing that things are going to vastly change.
It is at that moment the nobles show up, and it is at that moment that Merin does something brave and stupid. Stepping in front of the men, he grits his teeth. "Get the f&&* out of here, you overgrown dog suckers." The response to his aggression was about as much as the young male expected.
Slowly, Merin grunts, feeling his world momentarily spin as he draws his knees to his chest and rolls over, pushing up to his feet. "Yep, never a dull moment anymore."
His movements are quick and measured as he heads for the tree. "Please tell me someone has a solid plan!" the young elf says in a brief moment of true irritation.
Valendrian smiles in relief as Merin comes storming up, but his smile fades immiedately. "Yes, that is exactly what we are trying to do. Someone calls out to call the guards, but other shout him down. Everyone seems on the edge of riot, and nothing is being accomplished. Valendrian calls for quiet in his sonorous voice, and peace is again achieved. Clutching at his head, shaking with rage and grief, the elder Elf looks imploringly around for any suggestions.
"We have to get the women out of there!" cries Sorin.
Hahren, if I could make a suggestion?" says a servant elf near the back, wearing what looks like the uniform of one of the arl's personal Elf servants. "I work at the palace, I could maybe sneak two others in, get the women out, and then leave." This seems to rile up everyone again, but a simple cough from Duncan silences them. He seems for some reason to not receive any hatred for the entire ordeal, but it was common, untrue folklore, that Grey Wardens were almost a race unto themselves.
"And who will go with you?" inquires Valendrian.
The apprentice nods encouragingly. "I have studied shapechanging, and found that form tends to affect thought much more than believed. A wolf may bring out qualities in you you have forgotten during your long exile as a rodent. And better to possess something and not need it than go wanting. Take his gift, friend."
Mouse nods warily, concentrates on the Spirit's advice, and in a flash reappears as a ssilver wolf, looking up at Erast with bright, yellow eyes. "Am I a wolf? It feels...heavy, but swift and light at the same time!" He nods and then sits down, baring his teeth experimentally.
Valor shakes its head and then waves its gauntlet onwards. "Go then, good Mage, and face your Demon. I will hope that you triumph and do not become an Abomination, as they call the possessed in your world." It turns away then, to peruse its weapons assortment.
Mouse, turned Wolf, looks up at Erast again. "The only thing left to do here is face your demon now, are you ready do you think? If you tarry any longer, the Templars may execute you for boredom!"
Galadrian growls out loud before taking a step back away from the clumsy swing of the skeleton and hastily draws out another arrow and aims it at the one near him intending to finish it off so he can help his clanmate. He fumbles however with the shot and it goes whizzing past.
Five foot step back
Fire at closest foe
I smile at the opening Gilmore gives me and then attempt to take advantage.
For:
He hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head. "No. Templars are the embodiment of their code of laws and honour. They cannot help but follow it in their everyday life, but before the highest mages?" Erast shakes his head. "They will hold off. And there may be more to find here. Let us go explore more- but quickly."
With Wolf following, Erast sets off at a jog through the Fade.
Tamlen swears out loud and slices at the skeleton who wounded him with blind abandon.
Dagger Damage:
His sword finds no purchase upon the Skeleton's bony armor but his dagger slips into the dark flesh with a horrible shriek from the creature. The thing does not fall however, but looks the worse for wear, a steady stream of the liquid running from its body.
The Skeletons advance then, the two encircling Tamlen while the third advances on Galadrian, swords bared, blazing eyes screaming for blood.
on Tamlen, flanking
on Tamlen, flanking
on Galadrian, if hit
The blades scythe in at the two elves, drawing blood to decorate the forgotten tomb even more so than before.
Ser Gilmore winces and drops to one knee, clutching at his wounded side, holding up his other hand to wave off the Medic. "I yield" he says nobly, standing up with another wince to grip Kaidan's arm in a friendly truce. "You fight like a Lion for sure my lord, you earn your reputation as your father's son in war." The congregation claps its approval, several of them cheering on their young nobleman, before the crowd finally disperses. To Gilmore's obvious despair, Duncan was within that crowd, and watched the proceedings, but he vanishes before anyone can really stop him.
Iona claps warmly for Kaidan when he comes striding up, after the guard takes back the practice sword. "You fought very bravely milord" she says, watching as Dairren is seen to by the medics, along with Ser Gilmore, who took quite a nasty blow as well.
Wolf lopes along beside the mage, Erast, and in truth he seems more bitter about his death at Templar hands than before thanks to Erast's comment, despite how good-naturedly he might have meant to say it, as they explore more of the strange Fade-land landscape, but other than twists and turns, the small island is bereft of any other forms...until Wolf skids to a halt, facing the direction of a copse of trees. "There is another demon here, not the one who wants to possess you, but still, old and powerful. We could go around, but the only way back is towards your battlefield..."
Another angry roar shakes the dream-land to reinforce that point. Ahead of them lays an immense bear-like shape, covered in rotting fur and long bony protrusions. The face lifts and yawns, looking straight at them. "Oh how droll...a human Mage" it yawns again, its voice carrying and laden with utter boredom. "Do run along and get eaten, I care not for you, unless you are table scraps..."
"Demons of Sloth..." comments Wolf. "They hardly ever seem dangerous compared to the others around here, but I wouldn't let that sleepy bear look fool you..."
Gladarian glances back hoping there is more room and take another step out of the reach of the skeleton intent on him and fires point blank at the creature. With this shot fired he sends out a mental scream for Harad.
Poo
Harad balks at his friend's urgent plea for help, and, ignoring his baser instincts, charges straight into the fray, antlers held low, charging straight through the door, skittering around the curve and coming into sight to barrel right at the Skeleton facing Tamlen.
Sword
Tamlen hacks down the first of the two skeletons, slicing the thing's spine in two, releasing another pool of bloody colored, foul-smelling gore. His dagger sails wide of the other skeleton however, which slashes at him again, as does the one facing Galadrian, advancing another step, closing the gap.
Tamlen ducks the clumsy swing but Galadrian is not so lucky this time and is dealt a cruel blow.
I help Gilmore over to the medics. "I need to learn some restraint it seems. Doesn't do good for a man's pride to lose so quickly."
When I see Iona I bow sheepishly. "Um thanks mi'lady. I only wish I could display my bravery against the darkspawn. Though, displaying it before a lovely lady is just fine for me too."
I look around. "I need to go find Fergus, perhaps we can catch up some other time." I bid Iona fair well and seek out Fergus.
Galadrian smiles in relief seeing his companion only to wince in pain as the sword skitters across his flesh, he hastily beats a retreat back and fires another arrow even as Harad lashes out with antlers and hooves.
Galadrian
Harad (+2 to hit if flanking)
Antlers (Gore)
Hooves x2
"There's only one person I'd trust at my back." he looks to his best friend.
"You up for the next great adventure?" The young elf just chuckles, trying to remain calm as he can, after his outburst before.
Merin muses as he waits for his friend's answer. There would be only one chance. If they failed, the two grooms would likely be dead and the women...well, best not to think on that.
Once he has the answer he wants, he nods to his Hahren. "I think we're about as ready as we can be."
The two Cousland sons, with Iona in tow, head up towards the castle's keep. They enter the main building and make their way past the guest bedrooms, where Iona bows and says "I bid thee a good night milords, perhaps I will see you both before tomorrow?" she looks a bit hopefully at Olivier at this, but makes no indications towards anything too forward, although from the way her eyes sparkle, its obvious that she wouldn't be against such things if the suggestion comes from either of them.
If they continue on by simply bidding her a good night, Fergus' room is on their right, the door wide open. Inside, their eldest brother stands dressed in full battle-armor, bearing his sword and Cousland-family emblazoned shield as he lovingly strokes the cheek of his lovely Antivan wife and pats the hair of his young son, Ohren.
Tamlen sighs in relief as the huge elk comes rushing in to slash at the skeleton with its sharp antlers and he takes advantage of the attack to launch his own, intent on hacking down the last of the skeletons he is fighting.
Confirmation:
Damage (sword) Damage (dagger)
Slashing savagely, Tamlen hacks down the skeleton he is facing, whirling around then, intent on rushing to his companion's aid, as is the stalwart white Halla, who readies for another valiant charge.
The last skeleton, seemingly unaware of its lonely and soon to end existence, hacks again at Galadrian, stepping over a root to slash with the broken sword.
Attack Confirmation
Damage
The Skeleton releases another savage scream as its blade slashes again through Dalish armor and spills more blood.
The Demon of Sloth slowly rises from its position upon the ground to tower over the young mage. It is truly massive, larger than any Mortal world bear, bearing long fangs and claws, form rippling with muscle. "If I wished to kill you myself, I would find the task all too easy, arrogant little human." It then collapses back onto the ground. "Luckily for you, I have no interest in such trivial, exhausting things, right now. Maybe if you stick around till after my nap...I'll eat you then, if the other hasn't already devoured you."
It opens one eye again at him though. "Why should I help you? Unless you would suggest that if I win a contest of riddles, that I could simply eat you now, rather than you just leaving me in peace? I suppose if I wanted to, I could teach your furry little friend there my form, and perhaps gift you a small boon for bringing a small unexpected change to what was to be a rather droll day of existance, although he seems very gifted already as a Wolf. Still...there you go...take my offer or leave it"
Wolf again rolls his eyes. "I told you, Demons LOVE riddles..."
Valendrian nods gravely, but before anyone can object or comment on the plan, Duncan the Grey Warden steps up. "If you seek to free your fellows, I would gladly offer my aid. I offer you my own longsword and bow, one for each of you, should you wish them. If not, I will still remain here to see how things turn out. I pray to the Maker for your safe trip."
Duncan's sword is a beautiful thing, elegant and powerful all at once, and his crossbow is also a thing of exquisite craftsmanship. Inversely, he also offers, if the two do not want the blade, his dagger instead, a likewise lovely killing tool.
Whether or not they take the gifts, the servant elf hands them each a servant's uniform. "Here put these on, you'll blend right in, but carrying weapons will give you away. Unless you intend to fight every guard on the way to the women, I suggest hiding those"
After gearing up for the confrontation, the three elves take their leave, heading through the Alienage gates to the castle district. They sneak around the main gates towards a side entrance. Their guide stops just long enough to allow them to either gear themselves with their weapons, or don the disguises.
Sorin opts for the disguise by the way he avoids looking at the weapons they brought with them, although he will only follow Merin's lead.
Disguise check: