itinere | featuring creatures no one in Itinere ever wanted to know existed }{ OPEN

featuring creatures no one in Itinere ever wanted to know existed }{ OPEN

[ when the first few demons started popping through the walls, hawke thought it was just another tuesday. a very dull and irritating tuesday, but tuesday nonetheless. demons are slightly more threatening. when she finds a revenant and an arcane horror, she's sure that will be the end of it.

that's before she finds the nightmare demon.

before the first darkspawn.

worry for the general population has her fighting the weird device to get a warning out while she can. as usual, though, she sounds just as dryly sarcastic and witty as ever. ]

I don't know if any of you have noticed, but we seem to have been overrun.

[ she turns the camera, successfully this time, to see the actual things around her. corpses, most of them on the ground from where hawke downed them earlier. when she stops the camera pan, the view settles on the darkspawn ogre fighting a nightmare demon. ]

The giant one on the left with the big horns is a darkspawn. An ogre, specifically. It's lovely on its own, but do try not to get its blood on you or in you or anything like that. Don't let it draw blood, either. Believe me, you don't want to know why.

[ not that she won't tell anyone who asks. this wouldn't be something she would need to explain in thedas, but she's learning that this is not thedas. that had been a good thing up until five minutes ago. ]

The other may or may not look like a giant spider. It's a nightmare demon and it manifests as whatever it thinks will frighten you the most. For most of my group back home, that meant spiders. Because it's always spiders.

Whatever it looks like, both of these can be killed, either by magic or conventional weapons like hitting it with a large stick. If you can't fight, find someone who can. Like me. I'd be happy to make sure none of us catches the Taint--

[ right about then is when the nightmare demon gets bored and wanders off. the ogre seems to have finally noticed hawke, as it turns towards her and lowers itself. she knows what this means. ]

Oh, sure, come interrupt me. I've always loved--

[ it charges. she dodges. the device gets dropped. ]

Anyone nearby who can give a girl a hand?

[ but that's about all anyone will get until the ogre is dead and hawke can pick up her device again to reply. it might be a while.

either way, she'll be wandering the streets afterwards trying to assess the damage and help people get to safety. because that's what she does. she might be a reluctant hero but she is a hero. ]

(( ooc: anything from this list is fair game all month! and feel free to poke me if you have any questions :) hawke is available for action or network. ))

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I can be nearby. [Her accent is Eastern-ish European, softened somewhat by a year in the US.] Where and what do you need?

[ Porthos is initially drawn to the woman's message because she seems to know what she's talking about. Those are the best people to fight alongside. Porthos is a warrior, a soldier, well-skilled in all manner of combat. But these monsters... this is unlike any combat he's ever seen. ]

I'm on me way. [ In full Musketeer regalia, he comes running down the street toward her, only pausing when something massive flies overhead. His gaze follows it, rapier drawn and held aloft until the thing passes them by.

When he looks back at Marian, it's with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a dimpled grin. ] Don't know about you, but I want to kill the dragon.

[ meanwhile hawke's accent is very british. wanda is lucky that hawke can reply at all in the middle of her fight with the ogre. not that the video gives much to see at all. ]

Someone who can take a few hits and draw fire would be lovely. I don't exactly have a shield or a thick head.

[ no offense, fenris. ]

[ he looks like a good warrior. she's a mage. she could use a good warrior. though, with her luck, he'll turn out to be a rogue with no armor and all sneak. ]

Sure, why not. If it isn't a spider, it's a high dragon. Just try not to get burned. Or eaten. I can heal your burns, but I'm not so sure we want to worry about the dragon's meal coming back up. That's nasty business.

[ seriously. just ew, hawke.

she shifts her staff in her hand as the dragon lands a decent distance away and roars at them. ]

Two things: 1) I hope you can take a few hits. 2) We might want to pray to the Maker that this thing doesn't have any little ones to call.

[ The thought of becoming a meal for a dragon doesn't necessarily appeal. It receives a brief moment of levity and a curl of Porthos's lips. Then again, he thinks himself plenty prepared to at least give any beast a run for its money. ]

Perhaps a bit more confidence would do us well, Madame. Can't enter a battle thinkin' about the worst. [ Porthos has fought many wars, as it looks as if this woman has, and he knows that mentality is half of the battle. ] I've taken man hits. Takes quite a bit to make me stay down. [ The scars over his left eye, brow and right cheek are evidence of that. His body, and the leathers of his uniform, are very much battle worn.

Another glance back to the dragon, then he dips his head with a finger at the brim of his hat. Given the circumstances, that's as much formality as he can afford. He hopes it's enough to appease her as far as introductions go. ] Porthos du Vallon.

I can help with that. I will ... fly over. [She can look for the woman fighting a thing.

Which she starts on her way over now, give her a minute.]

What is it, anyway? [Does she even wanna know?]

[ she twirls her staff as the dragon roars again. come on, buddy, let her know which type you are. ice, fire, or storm. ]

Considering the poor people I'm used to saving from these things, that's being realistic. [ beat. ] Although, if any of my friends were ever eaten by a dragon, I'm fairly certain they would each take it down before it could swallow them and Isabela would steal all the scales off its body while she was at it. Those are worth a few good sovereigns.

[ maker's breath, she misses isabela. there's something to be said for falling for someone. ]

Call me Hawke, [ she offers, just as the dragon spits out a ball of fire at them. with the ease of someone who has done this for a while, hawke dodges, darting out of the way and off a good distance before she starts casting. starting with winter's grasp, shooting a burst of ice at the dragon. ]

Oh good. You play with fire. Hope you don't mind if I freeze you out. [ it can mind all it wants. hawke does not play fair. as for her new companion... ] I'll keep an eye on you while we're fighting. Don't worry about getting hurt.

[ the bonus of being a spirit healer. ]

You've seen these creatures before. [ That's a little bit unnerving, knowing that there's a land that is home to these massive monsters, or that there are people who are accustomed to taking them down. Porthos is new to such beasts, but he also doesn't know how to fall down and stay down, so he can appreciate the sentiment in which Hawke speaks of her friends.

He dips his head once more. ] Hawke, then. Call me Porthos.

[ The fire breath gets his attention then. His eyes momentarily grow wide and then he grins again, a mischievous, dimpled grin. He steps toward the dragon, still feeling the heat in the air where the fire had been. ] How about we keep an eye on each other?

[ His sword is drawn with a loud shiiink. He twirls it once at his side and unsheathes his rapier from his back, the short sword at the ready in his other hand. For as big a man as he is, he can be incredibly light of foot. The dragon roars, or screeches at him and Porthos spins to land the side of his sword and slide a cut at one leg. He spins and the rapier is jabbed up into its side. He feels the heat of another fire blast bit in close proximity, the fire doesn't reach him. His skin is hot though and a talon slices down at his leathers. The leather is thick and studded, so far protecting his skin. ]

[ flying... she doesn't want to ask about that, does she...? ]

What, this? [ it's too bad all they have is audio, since hawke kinda can't pick up her device yet. just a little busy with not getting killed. ] It's darkspawn. I'll explain it later when we have time to go through the entirety of Thedas history.

[ well... not the entirety, but close. lots of religious pieces, too. ]

Besides, I don't think my friend here really wants to hear the Chant of Light. They don't call them lightspawn.

It looks like the one that tried to invade the Bone Pit. Sad that I can actually say I know what a legend looks like. Of course, the first one I met was another shape-shifting legend -- [ she grunts as she dodges another fireball. ] -- but given that she didn't try to fry me on sight, I'll bet this one isn't her. [ beat. ] Although, I'm rather glad the smell of charred darkspawn isn't happening this time.

[ yet.

and to be honest, hawke is rather glad this isn't flemeth. once was enough.

a dual-wielder she can respect, though it makes her miss isabela even more. a smirk crosses her face and she darts forward so she's close enough to let loose with a cone of cold. luckily porthos won't get frozen, even if he does feel chilled from it. dodging the dragon's feet gets tricky, but soon enough, hawke is back where she likes to be. far away. ]

I like the way you work. Not entirely because you have two swords like Isabela, though that may be a swaying point.

[ Porthos doesn't know what a Bone Pit is, aside from a pit of bones, but he gets the feeling that he wouldn't much care for it - and he's fought the Spaniards in an ongoing war between them and the French for years. That was distasteful enough. The Spanish have no honor, after all, not in their day-to-day lives and certainly not on the battlefield. He sort of feels bad that he has no idea what Hawke is talking about with charred darkspawn either. She might as well be speaking a different language entirely. Needless to say, there will probably be many questions later.

But first, battle. Porthos is absolutely the kind to go in full speed and with full heart. This is no different. He lets out a bark of a laugh at his near miss with the beast's talons. ] Ha! Close, but not close enough.

[ The blast of cool after the heat feels good on his skin and he spares a glance for Hawke. Normally, he isn't much for magic as it seems so unnatural to him. But in this moment, he's thankful for it. The dragon doesn't seem to care for her blast of cold either as it roars so loud that it makes Porthos's eardrums vibrate. With the dragon's head pointed to the sky while it screeches, Porthos lifts his rapier into the neck and slices down. Blood starts spilling out of the wound. The longsword he jabs into the soft underbelly. He barely has time to get his weapons back out before the wounded dragon starts to fly away to regroup.

Porthos turns excited eyes on Hawke. ] Shall we give chase, Madame Hawke?

[ porthos would hate the bone pit. it was a mine, worked by ferelden refugees who were treated and paid terribly until hawke bought half a share in the place with the express purpose of looking after said refugee workers. she might technically be nobility due to her family's heritage and earning the money to buy her mother's title back after her deadbeat uncle sold an estate that wasn't technically his to settle a gambling debt, but she lived her early and formative years as a commoner's child and an apostate mage on top of that. she knows what it's like to have nothing.

plus, the templars were forever dogging her and her sister. they cared not about titles. noble or no, if they'd ever found her and bethany, the girls would have been shipped straight to the nearest circle faster than the maker could blink.

that didn't happen, though, and now hawke is here. for whatever good or ill that may do. the bleeding dragon is good to see and hawke grins. ]

May as well finish the job before it finishes off the city, [ she agrees, twirling her staff as she follows the dragon's trajectory with her eyes. ] She'll want to head for higher ground. If we're lucky, we can follow at close range.

[ if they're unlucky, not even hawke will be able to reach the thing. ]

[ Well, she and Porthos would be somewhat alike in that matter. Porthos was discarded and raised on the streets of Paris, became a thief out of necessity to survive. Then, when he was of age, he joined the military and worked very hard to earn his way into the King's Musketeers. Only recently has he learned that his father is of Noble blood, that Porthos was discarded because his mother was a Moor and it would be unheard of for a Nobleman to claim a child with a Moor.

Needless to say, Porthos, newly minted as Baron du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds, has very conflicted emotions about his newfound title and wealth.

He's pleased to see that the lady Hawke is game to give chase. In this, she's already earned his respect as a warrior in her own right. Anyone who runs toward danger instead of away from it is alright in his book, as long as they aren't Spanish. Some ill feelings are hard to let go of. ]

Then we're off. [ They hurry in the direction the dragon has gone. Porthos, never one for being idle, strikes up conversation. ] You're a magic user. A witch?

[ hawke's conflicted emotions centered around her deadbeat uncle. though it was nice to hear him tell her that he did consider her family. for once in his life, he was sentimental and less bitter than usual. all the same, it was his fault she had to buy the estate and their title back. her conflicted feelings were often assuaged with all the good she did for the city and the coin her status provided that she could in turn offer to those less fortunate in kirkwall.

she couldn't do half again as much good in kirkwall or thedas itself without her wealth or her titles of nobility and champion of kirkwall. even if she doesn't go by the title of "champion" anymore.

still, she will always have a tendency to dive into danger to save others, so she turns to run alongside porthos, eager to take the dragon down. ]

We're called mages in Thedas. Call me pleasantly surprised that you aren't accusing me of being a menace to society, [ she says dryly. it's been a while since the circles fell, but the idea of mages being an inherent threat to all of thedas still hasn't died off and likely won't in her lifetime. ] Do you have something similar where you're from?

[ Porthos would understand that tendency to run toward the danger rather than away. That's a trait of all Musketeers, although Porthos has even more of a penchant for it than most. He likes being up close and personal with danger. He likes looking it in the eyes, smirking and then battling it to the bitter end. His body is a road map of scars including the most prominent scar over his left eye from brow to cheek. His uniform is battle worn, obviously well-used. He is a soldier in every way.

As they walk, he notices that Hawke is very much the same. Even though, and he will keep this thought to himself, he has always thought of magic as cheating when it comes to battle. He's only recently started to allow that it can be a tool. But still, he prefers the clang of metal, the work of muscles in hand-to-hand, the thrill of looking a man in the eye while fighting on common footing, without any additives aside from physical skill. ]

Mage. [ He tries the word out. Because once again, he is slowly becoming more open-minded on the subject of magic. ] We've no magic where I'm from. Just brawn, skill and fortitude. But I've been somewhere before, somewhere that isn't France. There were magic users there. Went into battle with 'em. Not much use for my skill when others can stand back and cast spells to win the battle. [ Again, unfair advantages. ]

[ fenris might say the same about fighting and he's never accepted mages as good, despite having followed one for the better part of six years. he even fought the templars and knight-commander meredith at her side, defending the mages against meredith's claim to the rite of annulment. somehow, hawke thinks she can manage and like dealing with porthos. he's nowhere near as bad as some people she's known.

besides, if people like cullen can quit the templars and accept that a person isn't inherently evil just because they're a mage, then there's hope for everyone else.

a little, anyway. thedas doesn't exactly run on hope. ]

That's where we'll disagree. [ her voice isn't harsh, barely even firm in its response, as her dry humor shines even now. ] One of my closest companions is a warrior and another dual wields daggers. Without them to distract and taunt an enemy -- or without you here to take the beating from our dragon friend -- I would fall in seconds. Likely on my face. [ ha ha ha, hawke. you're so funny. ]

I've learned that everyone has a place. Also that I don't like going into dark alleys or caves without a shield in front. [ she shudders. ] Spiders.

[ whether she means a literal shield or someone to put themselves between her and any enemies like a shield is up in the air at this point. could be either or both, really. ]

[ Porthos would say it's difficult to run into battle of any kind without hope rather than despair. There's a certain bit of cockiness that comes with being a successful soldier as well. You cannot win a battle if you don't believe, wholeheartedly, that you will triumph in the end. Hope is most certainly a part of that.

Her disagreement gets a sideways assessment from him. To be fair, he's met very few magic users. But the ones he's met have never looked at things in that regard. Quite the opposite. They negated his presence by winning the battle moments after its beginning. It was really no battle at all, not by Porthos's standards anyway. Needless to say, he appreciates her opinion.

His eyes eventually sparkle as his lips pull into a dimpled smile, a low chuckle escapes him and he claps a heavy, but friendly, hand onto her shoulder. ]

Well then, Madame Hawke, perhaps you and I will fight the sort of battle that they tell stories about for years to come. Praise and glory for the ages, eh? [ Porthos really does enjoy bot h praise and glory in battle. ] Hopefully without the spiders.

[ the mages porthos knows have probably never lived in a world where known mages were locked up in towers and watched by templars who were trained to kill at even the slightest hint that a mage was doing blood magic or summoning demons. where mages could be made tranquil, permanently cut off from their dreams, their magic, and even their personality, all because someone suspected they were too weak of mind to resist a demon. where a knight-commander could invoke the rite of annulment with proper approval and kill every mage in the circle tower, even the ones who weren't actively practicing blood magic or possessed.

where outside people could be killed for harboring mages.

sometimes, on her dark days, hawke is glad bethany didn't live to see life in the gallows. she isn't sure her sister would have managed six years in that place and she doesn't think she could have kept them both out. it was hard enough keeping herself out from under knight-commander meredith's fingers.

on the flip side, the mages porthos knew before hawke probably didn't have to deal with things like darkspawn or dragons, either. she might have spells like fist of the maker or firestorm, but in close combat? she's screwed. ]

Maker's breath, if you ever meet a dwarf named Varric, don't ever tell him about this. He'll write another book about me and I'll never have peace. [ it's mostly good-natured teasing at this point. varric is her best friend, right alongside aveline, and though he might be a chronic liar, his book the tale of the champion did her life some sort of justice. personal though it was. ] Praise and glory for Thedosians tends to come with lots of death and destruction.

[ pause. shrug. ]

Why not? I could use some good luck.

[ aaand she probably just jinxed them both. as she glances forward again, she sure does see a sight that looks like their dragon friend fighting a couple of very large and very yucky spiders. hawke pulls a face. ]

The Maker always did have a terrible sense of humor. Please tell me you're seeing the same giant spiders I am and that they aren't your worst nightmare come to life.

[ Porthos does not know of those mages background. In truth, once they had stolen the battle from him without lifting a weapon, he had wanted very little to do with them. Perhaps that was unfair in and of itself. But for a warrior like Porthos to be rendered useless, it was not a good feeling, so perhaps he cannot be blamed for that entirely.

However, he does know of injustices toward an entire group. Just look at him and consider that he is from the seventeenth century. He is half Moor in a time when people with darker skin are loaded up in ships and sent to the new world to be sold. Not only did he escape that fate because of his father's abandoning him and his mother on the streets to escape scandal, but he also had to work harder than any other man to not only fight for France in the infantry, but also to work his way into the King's Guard, the Musketeers. And yet he is still looked down upon without even having to utter a word.

Yes, Porthos knows all about unfairness and prejudices. ]

There are books about us too, the Musketeers. [ Don't think that Porthos isn't shocked by that. He is. But given the heroics he actually lived through, it also isn't surprising in some ways. ] Found it quite disturbing when first I heard of them.

[ He grins again. ] Ah, but therein lies the trick. Praise and glory and the livin' to celebrate it. I promise you a pint of ale if we live through the day, my lady.

[ Of course, he sobers when she mentions giant spiders. Living on the streets growing up, he's seen his fair share of spiders and other unsavory critters. But when he turns to look, this... thing, as tall as half a building, takes the cake. It is so very disturbing. He draws his long sword again, as well as his rapier. ] We're seein' the same thing. Shall we cut off it's legs?

[ they really would understand each other on so many levels if they got to talking about certain experiences. things might not match up perfectly, but they're very, very similar.

for now, hawke just grips her staff tighter as she watches the fight ahead of her. ]

Deal. No tacking it back, [ she warns about the pint of ale. that sounds just perfect right now. she's seen several in thedas that were twice as tall as she is and at least twice as long as she is tall. probably three or four times. they're utterly disgusting and she hates every stupid one. ]

Well that answers half of my question. I'd rather fight the dragon than the spiders, so I hope you're referring to cutting all of their legs off.

[ her tone is dry as usual, though she sobers up as one of the spiders seems to notice them. ]

If you have more luck than I do, you might cancel mine out. [ please, please, please let this be a normal spider. she hates that she's even hoping for that. ] Either these are giant spiders, in which case everything is as fine as giant spiders get, or it's a nightmare demon. And they're worse than they sound. [ much, much worse. she's already lost someone to the last nightmare demon she faced. she's not willing to lose herself or anyone else to another. ]

I think this is the part where I say trust me to heal you with my magic and I'll trust you not to let anything come stampeding over me. [ teamwork. it's the best thing. ] And then we cut off the legs of everything. Probably harvest a little blood and a fang. Some alchemist or apothecary can use them.

A Musketeer never welches on a deal, Madame Hawke. [ They're men of honor. Mostly. Sometimes Porthos can have less honor than most due to his background. Musketeers are an elite regiment of noblemen. That Porthos was allowed in before he was granted his title, well... he's different than most.

As for the overly large spider, well, it's like nothing he's ever seen before and he isn't quite sure what to do with it aside from cut off it's legs and then pierce it through the middle. Truth be told, he's been flying blind with most of the beasts he's seen since they started pouring into Itinere. There is nothing like this in his world, after all.

Thankfully, Porthos's nightmares have nothing to do with spiders. Hopefully that makes this a regular spider.

He runs in and slices one leg off. The pincers extending from its mouth swipe at his face, one of the only bits of skin not protected by thick leather and forged iron. He knows he's bleeding and hopes Hawke's magic is as powerful for healing as she says it is. His face has enough scars, thank you very much. His sword lifted and he slices through another leg, spinning and bringing the rapier down on another. Three legs off and the thing is making a strange skittering sound and trying to pounce on Porthos. ]

[ hawke's lips curl upwards at his words. it's good to know that he has honor. reminds her of aveline. and sebastian.

she keeps up her end of the fight, sending a burst of healing at the second scrape. it's like a soothing balm that washes over him, knitting together what wounds the spider opened. the skittering and hissing sounds are normal. apparently spiders in thedas hiss, too. and at least this one doesn't seem to be doing what the nightmare demon did. hawke can live with that.

unfortunately for them, the other spider seems to notice them right about then. and the dragon. hawke grits her teeth, turning her attention to the onslaught. ]

Watch out!

[ making sure she doesn't hit porthos, she pushes her arm through the air in front of her, bringing up a wall of ice behind porthos that traps the spider trying to sneak up on him. the dragon seems content to screech at them for now, but hawke doubts that will last. keeping an eye on her companion, she focuses on the spider she's got frozen. he can take out the one he's got and if she can't handle hers, she can trust that he will help once his is dead. ]

[ He feels the healing in a very strange way. It almost has a rejuvenating effect and Porthos plows on. One of his swings with his long sword misses as the spider moves to his side. He easily spins and gets another leg.

Have you ever seen a four legged spider? Porthos hasn't. But it seems to be having trouble supporting the weight of its body. Then he hears Hawke's warning and turns to see a second spider. He reaches his long sword beneath the wounded spider and when it once again has trouble supporting itself, it literally falls on his sword.

The rapier is outstretched as he pries his sword out from the dead spider. The second spider is advancing and then... the dragon. Surely he's been in worse odds. Surely. At some point. Though he isn't sure if they count since they were worse odds against humans, not fantastic beasts like these. ]

Got it! [ He tells her as he finally pries his longsword free. He stands and sees the second spider trapped in ice and nods approvingly at her. ] That's a nice one. Don't suppose you could do that to the dragon too. [ He's ready when the spider unfreezes. He leaps in and spins, hacking at legs the same as he had before. One leg gone, then two, then three, again and again until the body falls to the floor. This time Porthos thrusts his sword in through it's mouth and pulls up, literally gutting it. At least his long sword isn't stuck this time.

He checks to make sure Hawke is still well before looking up at the dragon. ] And now you.

[ hawke is okay with a four-legged spider not going anywhere. though it doesn't help the gross part, since apparently thedas spiders don't skitter so much as they hiss. or, well, the spiders around kirkwall hiss. the ones in ferelden and orlais definitely skitter. so it's a toss-up.

either way, she hates all spiders. they're gross.

still, they might be fighting fantastic beasts, but he's got a mage on his side. that counts for something. at his question, she smirks. ] I could, but it wouldn't have the same effect. I can't make an ice statue out of something that large. [ she can, however, do something else and before porthos charges off towards the dragon, she waves to make sure he stays put for a few seconds. not that she's ever had trouble with friendly fire (ha, ha, ha puns), but it's always good to be sure. she lifts both hands into the air like she's lifting a large boulder over her head. fire curls and licks around her hands and a few seconds later, fireballs begin to rain down from the sky. slowly they fall, one after another, for ten seconds, bathing the dragon in firestorm. ]

I can burn it, [ she offers with amusement, nodding for porthos to take his charge now. the dragon is far from dead and he'll have more chances to do his own damage to it. she can just chip away with crazy spells like that.

next up: fist of the maker. temporarily flattening a dragon should be fun. ]

[ Porthos is okay with spiders, as they are common everywhere in Paris. It's the size of these spiders that is disconcerting. Most certainly, it is a good reason to rid the world of them. That, and the fact that they're trying to kill the both of them. It's self defense.

Porthos catches her motion to stay put and he does, waiting patiently to see what she's going to do. And none too soon as he was about to rush in which is his way. What he sees is indescribable, fire curling around her hands and she is not burned. He looks up as the fireballs begin to fall from the sky. Amazing. And kind of terrifying for a man so unaccustomed to magic as Porthos is.

When she gives the go-ahead, he runs in, avoiding a fireball here and there. Then his swords are slicing and jabbing at the dragon. Something makes the dragon roar as it's knocked to the ground, another spell from Hawke to be sure.

Porthos takes this opportunity to not only slice off the dragon at the neck. It takes hacking at it three times, but then using his long sword to thrust it into the weakened dragon's soft underbelly.

He turns back to look at her, eyes alight and wild as any warriors would be in the immediate aftermath of battle. ] We killed a dragon! [ Forgive him his excitement. He's never slain a dragon before. He's sad Aramis missed it. ]

[ it's fortunate that hawke's magic doesn't really do friendly fire, so even if he had run in, she would have been able to avoid casting directly on him. all the same, it's best not to tempt fate. so she's glad that she doesn't have to and that porthos is good at leading and following.

fist of the maker usually comes in handy, as it not only flattens the dragon quite literally, but also lowers its defense to almost nothing, making it the ideal target for porthos' blades. as he deals the final blows towards it, she grins in response, both in triumph and in relief.

she pauses just long enough to catch her breath before she makes her way over to see what the dragon has on it. ] Don't forget to loot it. We might be able to use the blood in alchemical potions or healing things and whatever else its skin can make. If we're really lucky, it'll be carrying its entire horde and we can either wear it as equipment or sell it all.

[ that's how she got part of her champion's armor, after all. ]

[ It's not a far stretch for Porthos to conclude that loot is the same as pilfering things from the dead on a battlefield after all is said and done. However, the dragon is so big and it's mass so great that he has a hard time figuring out how and what he should loot.

He goes to one of the webbed feet and breaks off a fairly large claw for his growing collection. Then he looks over to Hawke for assistance with the rest. ]

Are you askin' me to skin it, Madame Hawke? Could take a good of time, don't you think? [ Forgive him, Hawke. He knows not of what you speak. ]

[ she can't really blame him for not fully understanding her. thedas does seem to work on warped and strange frequencies, as compared to everywhere else she's heard of here. so she pauses in her work and gives her head a shake. ]

More like they somehow carry their horde in their mouths or their bellies and we might be able to take it for ourselves. [ pause. ] After we clean it.

[ what. it can get a bit gross. ]

Could be weapons, equipment, gold, anything. [ literally. she's seen all of that and more. and usually in large amounts. ]

In their mouths, you say?

[ Yeah, that is a completely different frequency than Porthos is accustomed to. His nose wrinkles a bit as he walks around the beast to the front of it, a mouth with sharp teeth that was just, a few moments ago, breathing fire.

He lowers himself and with leather gloved hands pries open the mouth as much as he can. And to his surprise, he sees the hilt of something and reaches in to withdraw a large, glistening sword.

To say he's surprised when he looks back to Hawke is an understatement. ] Such tales are to be believed, it seems.

[ it's weird and a bit gross. ]

This armor I'm wearing? That's how I got the body armor part.

[ she's... not actually kidding about that. pulled it straight from the skull of a high dragon.

though she does look pleased that he finds the horde, watching as he pries a sword from its jaws. ]

Well look at you. That looks like it'll swing well. Wonder if there's a rune on it.

[ if not, there's not much she can do about it. sandal was her enchantment expert and he's not here. sadly. she misses bodahn and his son.

as much to shake herself from her melancholy as it is to continue the search, she moves closer to dig around in the mouth herself. no weapons or armor for her, but she does find a decent amount of gold coins and gems. ]

Come on. Let's split this.

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