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Heart and Home, ch6
Fenris and Carver met the charge, swords in hand. Their furious attack slowed the templars long enough for the mages to beginning spinning their spells. Flame sprouted in the midst of the armored men, though they scarce noticed it. The ones that could not resist it fell, char within smoking armor. The losses barely seemed to dent their numbers.
An unnatural storm coalesced above the battle, lightning flashing, thunder blending with the steady roar of fighting men. Many templars were swept from the bridge with Fenris' first strike, quickly replaced. Carver's face was twisted with distaste as he battered men that were his comrades only moments ago. Whatever his feelings, his sword struck true. One templar after another fell to him, gouts of blood flooding the pale white stone beneath them.
Hawke lashed out with the Fist of the Maker, crushing several warriors closing in on her
Heart and Home, ch 5
Across the grey, churning water The Gallows squatted, ancient stone foundations shaken by the battle raging within. Dust and ash rained down in a fine grit, sticking to Hawke in the damp air of the docks. Fenris didn't seem to notice the filth or even the menacing ocean. Instead he stood staring out across the bay at their destination, jaw clenching at each shudder of magic. She laid a hand on his shoulder to reassure him but he didn't even glance at her.
Riese walked back to the other side of the pier, trying to wait patiently for Isabela to finish readying the ship. Varric scrambled across the deck, following the pirate's orders. As far as Hawke knew, the dwarf had no experience with boats, but trust Tethras to know something about everything. Merrill sat a few feet away, staring resolutely at nothing. Riese tried not to pace, tension turning her stomach.
Isabela saw her st
What is PastThe chantry stands on a hill just outside of town. The walk to it is a quiet one, everyone lost in thought after days on the road. An older woman greets you at the chantry gate, her robes marking her as the Revered Mother. She smiles and welcomes you all inside. "Visitors to Jader and not a one of you looks like a sailor or merchant! I don't see that often. Be welcome, young ones. What have you come seeking?" Her tone is warm, eyes compassionate.
Adrienne is the first to speak. "We are supposed to meet someone behind the Chantry. A girl named Maya." The Mother looks thoughtful for a moment. George shifts uneasily from foot to foot. He still doesn't know why she would be here, of all places. Why Jader? Why a chantry? The Revered Mother shakes her head, "I don't know anyone by that name. But
First MeetingZara walked quickly across the courtyard toward the sounds of combat; the rhythmic clanging of weapons louder as she got closer. Just around the corner near one of the small gardens, her brother and several young nobles were engaged in fierce battle. Alaren stood in the center, chest bare, sword raised. She could see the telltale shimmer of magic around him, a barrier to blade or spell.
Three others ringed him, testing his defense with their weapons. One she knew, Ser Remal, but the other two she could not name. Both had dark hair, one a little taller than the other and blue eyed. They were noble fosterlings, she was sure, but no one she had met. That was no surprise. Most of her days were spent in one room or another beneath the strict gaze of a tutor. Magic, history, lineage, geography, dance, literature . . . there was always something. Today was Midsummer and sh
Heart and Home, ch4
The smell of scorched stone hung in the air as the Chantry smouldered behind them. The groans of dying templars sickened her. Carver . . . it could have been him so easily. Hawke pushed the thought away and choked back a wave of nausea. The Chantry could be rebuilt, but these lives were gone forever. Riese didn't look at the bodies, instead focusing on her friend.
Anders sat hunched on a crate, eyes downcast. She wanted to scream at him, to cry, to run . . . but she couldn't do any of those things. She had to lead now. Hawke walked to him, maintaining a brittle calm. "There is nothing you can say to me that I have not already said to myself," the apostate told her, voice wavering between confidence and regret.
"I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this. This is the justice all mages have awaited." Anders sounded l
Heart and Home ch. 3
"What are you going to do," Fenris asked pensively. Hawke ignored him for the moment, fumbling with the straps on her armor. She rarely bothered to wear the set of light plate, preferring robes to the jutting breastplate, spaulders, gauntlets, and sabatons. If she was putting them on, it meant she expected trouble. Trouble and templars, thought Fenris coldly.
"Riese?" he persisted. She tightened the strap on her spaulder, pulling the chunky piece tight against her shoulder and then looked at him. "I don't know. I have a bad feeling . . . I want to be ready for anything." The elf sighed and stood up, taking the mage's gauntleted hand. "If you're going to wear armor, you should at least put it on right. Here." He fixed the latches and went over the rest.
Hawke was far from helpless, but when it came to armor she was like raw recruit.
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