morphicpools | (no subject)

Regular patrols in the wilderness of Elturgard outside the City are one of the duties Zevlor enjoys most. Within the city of Elturel, the Companion's light means no stars are visible at all, only the faintest hint of the moon as she crosses the sky, but now they're far enough away that a smattering of lights are visible against the deep blue overhead. In the distance to the North, the gleam of the Companion can be seen hanging in the sky, but its glow isn't overwhelming.

Their platoon consists of three seasoned Hellriders and a new recruit, who, in Zevlor's opinion, shows a great deal of promise. He has her build the fire for their nightly camp, and as it gets started, he steps away alone, into the thicket, to search for dry branches to add to the stack.

Thus, it's a lone man who stumbles across the stranger in the woods. Tall, horned, with a spade-tipped tail, he cuts an imposing figure, but he refrains from drawing his sword at the sound of someone approaching, simply standing alert at the sound of footsteps.

Threaded | Flat

That there is sound at all is proof enough of his disconcertion. Any Dalish past the age of ten knew how to walk the woods silently, enough so that if he'd been aware of the comparative racket he was making, Kion would have despaired at the state of himself.

He was however still reeling. The artifact had seemed like nothing, a simple inactive remnant of elvhan culture in the ruins his companions had insisted they investigate. It was little surprise that he hadn't spoken up in protest at this point, but his displeasure with the idea had been plain to see, for all it had been practically expected. As was his following the others into the ruins regardless, fear of being left alone outweighing fear of whatever there was in the abandoned edifice.

They'd been separated so quickly, unstable ground and treacherous hallways leaving him entirely turned around and alone when he'd come across the thing. Only daring to touch it out of hopes that it was some manner of locking mechanism.

It wasn't.

And this wasn't Arlathan Forest. The plants he could make out in the dim light weren't right, the stars in the sky were wrong. Still reeling from the strange magic, he had little sense of his surroundings, in almost a state of shock as he continued moving, hoping to find a landmark of some manner. A river to follow, a place to climb and get a better look at things. A stranger, with horns and tail was not the sort of thing he expected to find, and when he breached the vague cover of underbrush and trailing branches, he froze when he realized what he was seeing, not entirely unlike a halla faced with a predator, uncertain which way to flee.