9:29 Dragon
Montsimmard, Orlais
12th of Harvestmere
Montsimmard might not have been the cultural capital of Orlais-that title, as well as the title of the actual capital of Orlais, belonged to Val Royeaux-but it was still full of Orlesian charm and culture. It had only been a couple of days since Jeremie Belpois had left the Circle with his escort, Laura Gauthier, but he was so fascinated with being outside that it didn't seem to matter to him where he was.
Jeremie pushed his hair out of his face. He had mangy blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was pale from being in the Circle most of his life, though the past couple of days had rendered freckles on his forehead, nose and cheekbones. His blue Circle robes were ornate and very Orlesian. It wasn't as if he was unhappy with his robes, but he wasn't saying something simple would make him unhappy either. His staff was designed to look like a three-headed dragon, and he was rather proud of it.
"I wasn't aware that you wanted to all your life here in Montsimmard." Laura said as she brushed her bangs from her face. She, too, was blonde, and she'd grown her hair long despite the warnings of the Knight Commander Jean-Pierre. She had hazel eyes, and freckles on her nose. Her templar armor was glistening in the midday sun, the symbol of Andraste upon her chest appearing to almost burn. Jeremie had always found it ironic that Laura, who did not believe in the Maker, would choose such a holy position-not that he believed in Him much either. Having a religion with so many rules forced down your throat, especially in a country as devout as Orlais, was rather off-putting, to put it kindly.
He turned to face her. She was eyeing the bombs and salves. Alchemy was a hobby of hers. "I don't intend to. Let me get used to this, messere." He said as he spotted a book that would be considered 'non-curricular' in the Circle. After reading the description, he nearly dropped it with disgust.
"I've lived in Montsimmard my whole life," she complained loudly, "and you're not the only one who longs for adventure." She looked at him. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away. Her feelings for him were unprofessional and forbidden. A templar and a mage? The stuff of pornographic novels, not reality.
Jeremie laughed. "Then surely you can wait a few more hours." He teased gently. He couldn't say he liked Laura, but she wasn't the most intolerable of all the templars. Besides, he thought as he bought elfroot and flasks from the merchant, if he was stuck with her, he might as well try to get along with her.
He opened his map and looked along the roads of Orlais. The thought of a grand adventure in such a beautiful world was exciting. Scouring the world, discovering new things... of course, his first priority was to find and document the uncharted area of the Arbor Wilds, before taking his leave to Ferelden and doing his best to chart the Chasind-occupied Korcari Wilds.
Having completed his preparations and buying a compass, Jeremie and Laura returned to the Chantry to claim the horses the Knight Captain had ordered be released to them. Laura's horse was a Destrier named Lisette, off-white in color, with her mane and tail cut short. She was in armor, and judging by the look in her eyes, was a specially trained, disciplined war horse. Jeremie's horse was a Palfrey named Cinnamon, a much smaller horse bred primarily for travel. She was a warm brown, her mane blonde and her eyes fiery. She obviously was not trained as well as Laura's horse, but then again, she wasn't a war horse.
Jeremie struggled as he tried to get on his horse. She shook, and he dived to grab onto her. When she stopped, he nervously reached for his saddlebag and removed the map to look once more at their route. He traced his way across the Dales, moving south across the Deauvin Flats, to the Arbor wilds, a dark green splat upon an otherwise pleasant parchment. He would be lying if he said the idea didn't frighten him. Those two words, 'Uncharted Territory', chilled him to the bone. The adventure that had made it hard to breathe just an hour ago now stung like a thousand arrows.
Laura looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You ready to go?" She asked as she commanded Lisette to move forward. Nervously, he nodded, and after clumsily storing the map, commanded Cinnamon to move. Thankfully, she complied with ease, and Jeremie led their way out of Montsimmard.
After three days crossing the Dales had brought Jeremie and Laura to the edge of the Arbor Wilds. It was thick, dense forest, though in the mid-morning light, it was peaceful. Yet, his stomach twisted into knots, and his hands shook as their grip tightened on the reins. Laura ordered Lisette to walk closer to him. Laura was already a centimeter and a half taller than him, and when seated upon her horse, was eye-level with the top of his head. "Are you ready to begin this quest in earnest, then?" She asked.
His breath was shaking. Watching his hands clench on the reins was enough to increase Laura's vigilance. A frightened mage was a dangerous mage. Suddenly, he spun his head to glare at her. "I'm in charge of this expedition! You're only here to make sure I don't turn apostate!" He shouted, and she raised her hands. Keeping a stiff upper lip, he snapped the reins and entered the forest.
Sunlight sneaked in through the canopy. Most of the birds had flown north to Tevinter and Seheron for the winter, so it was ominously quiet. It reminded Jeremie of the long days in the Circle's libraries. It was always quiet among the mages, the only noise ever coming from the apprentices who were running about and playing when they weren't training. Occasionally a laugh would echo across the corridors, only to be followed by a chorus of 'shhs'. He'd always liked the quiet, and it was nice not having to worry about a bird swooping down to startle the horses.
Laura bit her lip and looked off to the side. "I... think I hear water running. Maybe we should start there? It seems to be the most logical place to start." She offered.
Jeremie stopped Cinnamon and listened. "I don't hear anything," he said as he looked over his shoulder to face her. "but we should keep an ear out for it. It would probably be a good place to start camp." He turned forward again and kept moving. Laura sighed and followed. They'd only gone a few meters before two figures rushed out of the brush. The taller of the two was carving their way forward with two curved swords while the other tried to keep up. The shorter one paused, and their eyes met Jeremie's. The moment was short lived, as immediately after their eyes filled with fear, and a small fireball was thrown at a dying tree, toppling it and setting it ablaze.
Cinnamon reared up and panicked. "Cinnamon, no! Easy, girl!" Jeremie shouted over the roaring fire. Cinnamon galloped away, and he was trapped by the stirrups and the rope he'd tied around his waist to keep his balance somewhat stable. He heard Laura shout his name, and a quick look back proved that she was trying to chase after him, but the fire was spreading too quickly. In fear, Lisette bolted back towards the Dales. "Dammit! Cinnamon, calm down!" He said. Her whinnies were panicked, sounding almost like a colicky baby weeping for its mother.
She twisted through the forest, but Jeremie was not so lucky. He was slammed into every branch, every tree trunk that she avoided. Seeing no other choice, he conjured a controlled flame to burn the rope. He used one of the dragon heads to catch himself on a branch. Jeremie was forced from the saddle, and now dangled from the branch.
He dropped to the ground and pulled on the staff until it broke free. He followed the path that Cinnamon had taken, though her maneuverability made her significantly harder to track. He looked back to where he'd come from. There was no sign of Laura, and the only sign of the fire was the pillars of smoke pluming up. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. "What have I stepped in this time?" Mumbling, he added, "I probably should go back to Laura so she doesn't think I went apostate. Not looking forward to the outcome if she did. But... she does have my phylactery... and if I find her before she finds me, no one will ever find Cinnamon... and winter is coming so she'll probably freeze..." With a heavy sigh, he pushed forward towards the horse. "Guess I should go after the damned horse..."
He wandered for a few hours, unable to locate the horse at first. He'd wished that he'd possessed the horse's phylactery to save them both time. Eventually, he heard a crackling fire, and keeping low to the ground, he followed the sound. A camp of scarred, brutal-looking warriors in various types of leather and chainmail armor sat around a dying fire. Some were taking knives to their hair to cut of the singed bits, and some were bandaging wounds. They were also filling a cart with dead bodies.
"We don't get paid enough to do this," One man said, his accent obviously from rural Ferelden.
"You don't like it, don't stick around. Go run home to your mommy!" A Nevarran woman taunted.
The Fereldan looked at her. "But what about-"
"Shut up!" She shouted at him. "I got paid to get the boy by any means necessary and right now my dagger slitting your damned throat is sounding pretty necessary."
The two continued bickering, but all he could determine was their quest to 'get' a boy. Who this boy was and why they were paid to capture, or possibly kill, him were largely undisclosed. So much, he sighed, for pointless exposition. Suddenly, a hooded man walked across the other side of the camp, pulling something that was soon shown to be Cinnamon. Jeremie propelled himself out of the bushes and shouted, "That's my horse!" Two seconds later, he scolded himself for his rash stupidity.
The warriors drew their blades and surrounded him. He reached for his staff and fried the bandits closet to him with a cone of flames. "He's a mage! Get him, hurry!" An Orlesian man shouted. Jeremie cast Mind Blast to clear a path, and he charged for his horse. The man released her reins and drew his sword.
He looked as if he was preparing to slash at the mage, but suddenly he dropped his sword and screamed. Jeremie must have looked understandably confused, so before trying to reach his sword, the man shouted, "YOUR HORSE BIT ME IN THE BUTT!" Struggling to hold back a laugh, the mage kicked the sword out of the man's reach before casting Winter's Grasp to freeze him in place.
Jeremie jumped onto Cinnamon's back and snapped the reins, commanding her to charge forward and away from the camp. He was knocked off by the crossbow bolt that had found its home in his shoulder. Cinnamon reared up and bucked without him, successfully knocking out many of the warriors in her tantrum. The mage, on the other hand, struggled to pull out the bolt. When he had, he healed it, looking up in time to spot a leather-clad warrior with a greatsword charging him. Jeremie screamed and covered his face, too frightened to react. A few moments went by, and no attack came. He peaked from behind his hands to find that the warrior was trapped in stone.
Struggling to comprehend what had happened, a thin, gentle hand touched his forehead. A girl he couldn't see hummed for a moment, and then she spoke. "Sleep," her voice commanded, and he was in no position to struggle.