branwyn sheehy; hedge mage (sheehy) wrote in thedas, @ 2010-09-04 14:30:00 |
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It had been a week since they'd arrived in Redcliffe with their small group of traveling companions. A week was far too long, in their mind, to spend in this Arling. Particularly because they didn't appreciate the nature of these specific citizens. The Sheehy women were, most obviously, not Ferelden, and their appearance to those who were further away from the coast was apparently troubling. Business, for them, was always bad in towns like this, so they generally limited themselves to an over night rest and a quick trade of unneeded goods before moving along to the mountains. In this case, they hadn't been allowed to leave because of the dangers posed by the darkspawn. They'd only been allowed in to keep them safe and off of the roads. The whole situation was one Branwyn preferred not to be in. She was bored and restless,and as much as the people needed a distraction, she was in no mood to act as one. They probably wouldn't have even appreciated it. They both wanted to leave, and felt that they should have been allowed to - their lives were their own. If they wanted to gamble with them, that was their prerogative. They might not have been warriors or Circle trained mages, but they had more than held their own for years on the road with bandits and beasts alike, even experiencing small groups of darkspawn outside of the Blight. Their confidence wasn't one-hundred percent, but there was no business to be had in Redcliffe, they needed to leave. They had tried several times unsuccessfully. The knights on post were adamant about keeping the gracile women in town, ordering them to the Chantry each time they attempted an escape. There'd been nothing Branwyn could say to convince them otherwise. However, when the Wardens arrived, their attention seemed divided, and with hope of actual flight they tried once more only to be turned back. Now desperate, Branwyn turned to an option she didn't want to - though she felt as if there were no other options. They couldn't stay there any longer. The rest of that day had been spent discreetly gathering ingredients to make a rather potent batch of lyrium potions, and as the sun sank into the lake, she boldly wandered onto the docks south of town, hoping that more than a bag would be present. To her delight she saw the gleam of the setting sun glare off of a well burnished breastplate, her feet prompted to carry her on with haste. "Ser," she called out with quiet earnest, holding the loaded phials close and concealed. She assumed he was a local Templar, possibly and preferably Ualan, but she was unable to see his face clearly due to the glare of the sun. As the man's arms fell from behind his back to cross over his chest she heard a familiar chuckle over the hushed armor on armor. "Of all the hedge magi that could have wandered back here this night, I certainly didn't expect you." She paused as she was addressed with familiarity, raising an arm to shield her eyes from the sun. "And at such a time. You should be in the Chantry, young miss." "Young miss," she scoffed quietly, stepping forward a bit more, rolling her eyes as his face was reveal. "I ought to slap you," she grinned only a moment before reminding herself why she was there. "But I wont. I have a drop. And I have a request." "Put it in the bag." "No, Eogan. I have a favor to ask. Of you" She looked away as his brow knitted together, feeling bad that she would even ask. "I know it's not the best of times, but we're desperate. I wouldn't ask, otherwise." Sighing, the Templar cleared his throat and nodded. "Let's have it then." "We need to leave." He laughed. She frowned. "Please. Even in times of stress, these people are so..." "I know." He cut her off. They'd had many conversations in previous meetings in other cities about how much they both disliked the bumpkin nature of inland Fereldans. He, of course, had been there longer, and had more time to get used to it. She had a few years experience, and was a bit sensitive to boot, so he wasn't surprised. "I...what would you have me do?" "Just distract the guards long enough for us to get ourselves and our cart out of here." She half smiled, not even bothering to turn on the charm. "I can't just take them away from their post. They're there for a reason, Bran. It's dangerous." "We need to leave." "I'd rather you be safe." "We'll be safe. We wouldn't be here if we didn't know how to take care of ourselves." Their staring would have been more awkward if they both didn't seem so determined to make the other change their mind. "I will make four more of these, just for you Eogan. Please. We just want to make our way back to Lothering." Examining the phials, she noticed his widen, though they each did their best to hide their reactions. "Those seem...larger than usual." "And more potent." She said, her tone even as she knelt to place the lyrium in the bag. "Please, Eogan. You know me well enough, I can't be caged up in here. We're apostates in Ferelden. What will happen if the Chantry's breached? Do you expect me to sit there like a helpless child without defending myself?" "Of course not, I-" "And after I do, what then? They'll all cry apostate and drag me off like a mal-" "Stop it. I got it." She wasn't a fan of being dramatically emotional, but if it worked, it worked. "Tomorrow evening, then?" The next day had been spent preparing, not just for their departure, but for the impending invasion. Just because they weren't staying, or the others likely didn't care, didn't mean they couldn't put forth an effort to see to other people's well being. Plus, it gave her an excuse to make another batch of lyrium potions without seeming suspicious. Along with the potions, there were poultices and draughts of good strength, antidotes to poisons that might be useful, and well stocked injury kits that would surely be of good use. As she prepared these things, Epona readied their cart and fed the mule out of the sight of their traveling companions who themselves were preparing for the evening. When the sun had fallen, and the town flickered with torchlight, Branwyn made her way to the waiting Templar. She paid with the potions and a wonted kiss before he slunk off to pull the guards away from their posts. She watched expectantly as her mother, the mule and their things pulled up behind her, waiting for the way to their freedom to be cleared. She knew that what she had asked of him was a lot, but she was glad that they'd come to know each other well enough (and that he was so addicted to his lyrium) that he would follow through with such a request. When the three men finally left in a hurry, the women wasted no time making their escape, hoping the mule would move quickly enough in the dark to make it out before anyone could see them light their lamps. |