Jaden Tahal; Dalish Elf and Grey Warden (tahal) wrote in thedas, @ 2010-02-10 23:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! narrative, & 9:45 (4) eluviesta, @ jaden tahal |
Who: Jaden Tahal, various family members (NPC)
When: 9:45
Where: The Dalish camp in the Brecilian Forest
Summary: After a run-in with the Templars, Jaden prepares to leave his home and family behind. His father shows up to give him a parting gift.
Rating: PG
This was a lot harder than Jaden had ever thought it would be. He was leaving his home, something he'd always idly dreamed adout since he was a child. Going off to have some grand adventure that most elves only knew from stories. But it wasn't supposed to go like this. His leaving the clan was only supposed to be temporary, so he could come back with tales to tell his clanmates. But he couldn't come back, once he left.
It was a choice he'd made on his own, once Faer had been asked to leave. The Templars would never stop hunting the mage, they were told, and the Keeper couldn't allow them to discover the clan. For one thing, humans in general were a cruel race, and there were no guarantees that they would leave the small settlement in tact were they to stumble upon it, whether their prey was there or not. A greater danger lied in the fact that the Keeper remained. Were the Keeper to be discovered and removed from the clan, the clan would cease to exist. They'd be lost, without a leader or someone to step up.
Truthfully, Jaden's presence in the clan would have been almost inconsequential. He was just an elf, after all. A 'copper a dozen' in the eyes of the Templars. They had no authority over him, if they could even recognize him. It was Faer they were after, Faer who was being cast from the clan. Jaden, however, was unwilling to see his friend cast out into the world on his own. It might have seemed like a spur of the moment decision on his part when he'd stepped forward and declared that he would go with Faer. But really, Jaden felt as though he had little choice in the matter. Faer was his oldest friend, the one who'd put up with his exploits for so many years with little complaint. And he felt a certain responsibility for the situation as well. He blamed himself, and knew that he just couldn't allow his friend to go out on his own. Faer was a competent survivalist...but Jaden just wasn't convinced he could make it on his own. Especially if the Templars happened to catch up to them.
When Jaden had stepped forward and volunteered himself for the exile, the Keeper had stared him down for a long period. It was as though she were looking for something in the young elf's eyes. Whatever she saw, she apparently approved, giving a slow nod as she agreed. She, too, did not want any harm to befall her apprentice. Valera, Jaden's sister, had followed him to the family's camp, begging her brother to reconsider. It wasn't his fight, she said. Faer could handle himself, and she didn't want her only brother to be killed. Jaden had listened for as long as he could before he finally had enough, snapping that it was just as much his fault as Faer's. He immediately felt horrible for his reaction, but Valera didn't seem adversely affected. Indeed, she seemed to understand. Enough to tell her brother so before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
"For luck," she'd told him as she pressed her pendant into his hand. Then she was gone, leaving only the flapping fabric of a tent as evidence she'd even been past. He looked down at the pendant in his hand, the pendant their mother had given Valera when she'd come of age. It was more of a family heirloom than anything actually valuable, so for Valera to part with it. He clenched his eyes shut tightly for a moment, his fist closing around the pendant until he could feel it dig into the flesh of his hand.
"Jaden," he heard a voice say, and he opened his eyes to see his father now standing at the entrance of the tent. The man's eyes were filled with sadness, but a bit of pride as well. Jaden tried to answer, but couldn't find the words, so he just nodded as he turned to start packing items to take with him. All the items he would have to remember his clan by. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind, is there son?"
Jaden paused his packing for a moment, then resumed, laying out the items he intended to take in a line. He had to make sure that he and Faer had enough to last them for some time; they had little to no money and no valuables with which to trade, if they happened upon some friendly traders or shops. "No," he said simply, looking up at the older man. "I have to do this. I got us into this mess, and I can't just let Faer go out there on his own. With the Templars on his heels...he won't last a week," he said, the words heavy. They were true, as much as he hated to admit it. Faer was strong, despite outward appearances, and knew enough of the woods to provide for himself. But in a fight...well, Jaden wasn't sure he'd be able to hold his own for long. Besides, the Dalish weren't meant to be alone. Family and friends meant too much to them. Being alone in the wild would surely break his friend. With the burden of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, Jaden simply couldn't allow that to happen.
To his surprise, his father simply nodded, moving to sit on a stool, setting something wrapped in cloth on his lap. He regarded it fondly for a moment before undoing the ties. "I thought you would say that, Jaden. You've always had a mind of your own." This was said with a smile, and Jaden paused what he was doing, making his way over to where his father sat. "I want to give you something. Something my father gave me. I trust you'll treasure it, and I pray it brings you protection." With that, he finished untying the strings, pulling the worn cloth aside to reveal a sword. Looking at his father for permission first, Jaden reached down to take the weapon on his hand. It was a longsword, crafted with the highest skill. Dalish symbols were carved into the blade, running the length of the weapon. It was perfectly balanced, feeling like it were custom made for Jaden's hand.
"That was my father's sword. It's been passed down from father to son for generations. And if you believed anything your grandmother used to say, that sword was used by our ancestors in the first Blight," he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I do believe it will protect you. Use it well." With that, the older elf stood, giving Jaden a pat on the shoulder. "I will see you once you've finished packing," he said, then stepping out of the tent and heading back to the rest of the clan, who had no doubt gathered to see off two of their younger members. Sending them off into the unknown.
Jaden stared at the spot he'd last seen his father for a moment before turning his attention back to the sword. It was truly a work of art, and he felt as though it had been mistaken to be entrusted to him. He didn't deserve such a weapon. But it was as though he could suddenly feel the strength of his family in the blade. Nodding his head, he placed the sword into its sheath before looking the belt around his waist. He looked down at his old sword, which now looked so sad and plain compared to the one his father had gifted him. With a sigh, he set it aside. There was no room for sentimental objects; they had to get packed if they wanted to get moving before the Templars caught them off guard. But somehow, the weight of the new sword, his family's sword, at his side seemed comforting. It almost felt like they had a chance.