A/N: SO YEAH, I KNOW. A WHOLE YEAR. THATS MY BAD. THERES BEEN ALOT GOING ON. BUT, I PROMISE. THIS STORY IS GOING TO HAPPEN ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.
**TDB**TDB**TDB**
The Dragonborn's Blight Ch. 5
"Beware Beware, The Dragonborn's Come"
Five days had passed since Stava had arrived in Thedas. In those five days she had begun to adjust to her new setting and enjoyed learning about this new place. But it was bittersweet as she felt a sense of homesickness deep in her core. Often when she was alone and all was quiet, she would wonder after the state of Skyrim, if it was safe and secure. Even though she had conquered the greatest evils Skyrim ever faced, she knew there was always something left in the shadows. The Thalmor being the greatest concern. The fascist elves of Summerset were always up to something, and Stava knew that they would attempt retribution after she and Ulfric hunted them down and ousted them from Skyrim.
"Ulfric." She whispered, fiddling with a page and looking off into space.
Stava sat in the castles library. It was early morning and the quiet candlelit room intensified her melancholy. It grew more so with the thought of Ulfric, her greatest friend. Stava thought back all the time to when she first met Ulfric; his voice defiant and prideful in that burning tower at Helgen. That speech of his when she first walked into the Palace of Kings, his powerful words emboldened her in the pride she had for Skyrim, and the need to free it from the weakened Empire. And so she joined his Stormcloaks and after a year and a half of fighting by his side, fightin the Domion and the Empire at every turn; they conquered Skyrim, kicked out the Empire and hunted down the remaining Thalmor. Skyrim had finally become what it once was, always meant to be. Free.
But it was after the war when things got... Complicated. The threat of being invaded again wasn't too high for them, the Empire was too weak and the Dominion was too busy with draining the Empire and trying to take Hammerfell; which had played well into Stava and Ulfric's plan to take the fight to the Dominion. She smiled and stared into the flame of her candle. After several month's of secret messages and nighttime meetings; She and Ulfric brokered an Alliance with the desert province's King. It was a night she remembered well and thought back to often.
But, she couldn't allow herself to be lost in nostalgia again, she had an objective here in the library. To learn as much about Thedas as she could.
What she had found was beyond intriguing and brought out her inner scholar. The history of Thedas was almost as colorful as Nirns. Almost. But it was also bleak and filled more with darkness than light. Blights. They had stained the world with such fear and oppression that it was nearly impossible to find anything without reference or being linked to one. And from what she was able to figure out, the current blight was the fifth and that there were two left. The "Old Gods" that she was told about seemed to be the reasons behind Blights, almost as if one could not exist without an Archdemon being created. And from what she read, these blights were practical extinction level events that brought the civilizations of Thedas to the breaking point. The most disturbing fact, was that the Blight was more akin to a disease than anything. Turning anyone and anything it touched into Darkspawn by way of something aptly called, The Taint.
"It's lucky this world has these Grey Wardens, lest death would have taken them long ago." Stava mumbled as she began flipping through pages again.
In every instance of a Blight having been ended, she saw that it was always a Grey Warden that struck the killing blow. Never anyone else. Now, Stava had read that the Grey Wardens were elite warriors with more skill than blood in their body, that turned the tide against the Darkspawn with deadly efficiency. But she could tell already that there was something else behind it; a missing piece that somebody had lost. Intentionally. The fact that none of her research ever spoke of a Grey Warden succumbing to the Taint was proof enough. In her readings, Stava had noticed a considerable lack of information on the order besides what the common man knew. Even the library of a noble family, the most expensive and well written tomes she could find on the subject were made from the already known and speculation. This lack of information agitated the Last Dragonborn to no end.
"I so tire of these secret organizations. If they would just tell people what they know then it save me all the irratation of discovering it." She groaned as she leaned back in her chair.
"Yes, but then what would be the point of keeping the secret?" A deep male voice said, making Stava jolt upright throwing her fists up defensively.
She stopped herself, however, when she saw who the owner of the voice belonged to. Duncan, he stood a few feet from the table, at the edge of the candle light. His armor, which he didn't seem to ever take off, gleamed with the dim light and shimmered. Now that she finally had a chance to look at it, she noticed a strange symbol painted on it. The symbol was of an animal she could tell, but it was strange in that it was an odd amalgamation of parts; as though it were a combination of a saber tooth and hawk. Another odd thing she would need to learn of for this world, the differences in local animal life.
Stava relaxed and looked Duncan in the eyes.
"The point would be to save lives and time. There is nothing more stressful or dangerous than learning the key to victory until the last second. Divines know that it would be best to tell." She said exasperatedly.
Duncan hummed and grabbed a lone chair, dragging it over to Stava's table. Sitting down he crossed his arms and looked about book strewn table.
"Doing a little light reading?" He asked with a chuckle.
Stava snorted at that. "Light would be an understatement. This world is full of new knowledge and an entire history I need to learn and have learned. Maps, local histories, governments, battles and wars."
"And religion." She said pointedly, glancing out the corner of her eyes, her brows scrunching angrily.
"Ah, yes. I wondered when we would have this conversation." Duncan readjusted himself and ran his gloved hand down his face.
Stava herself sat up straight and pulled one of many tomes from under a pile. It was open on a page with a golden orange star, the symbol of the Chantry. Stava had felt true disgust only a few times in her life, but at learning of the Chantry and reading of its history, she decided none of her previous experiences even came close to how she felt about the Chantry.
"This," she said jabbing a finger onto the page. "Makes my blood burn hotter than the Dragon Fires. Nax ahrk zaamhus lost niid zin. How has such a religion grown and prosper like it has?!" She all but yelled.
This Chantry had truly struck a chord with Stava, enraging her in a way few could. At first, she was reminded of the Skaal and their All-Maker, being monotheists. But as she read on, the differences stacked up. Negatively. They were bullies and xenophobes that forced anyone who didn't believe in their God to convert. And if the victim refused then a brutal death was almost certain. And that wasn't where it ended either. Culture too was subject to being quashed. Art of any kind that disagreed with their "Chant", burned. Books that taught anything not supported by the chant, burned. People that didn't obey the chant, burned. The single most disturbing thing she had read about was their treatment of Mages and magical folk. Subjecting them to "Circles" and enslaving them; demonized as monsters that had to be chained and hidden like nightmarish animals. Stava had to perform calming spells on herself to keep from completely losing control when the terms "Witch Hunt" and "Exalted March" came up. The Chantry reminded her all to much of the Dominion and their totalitarianism.
Duncan looked at her understandingly. "I admit, the history of the Chantry is not one to boast about. I myself have never been a supporter of them or the things they've done. I have always been against the way they treat mages especially. But it gives people something to believe in. Hope and faith have always gone hand in hand. This doesn't matter though, tis simply the way with such things. I'm sure such things are so in your world as well."
"Ha! Hardly. The Divines make it very clear that they don't interfere nor ask us anything but to follow a road of morality and adhere to their teachings. They certainly wouldn't appreciate the sort of things that your Chantry does." Stava immediatly felt somewhat biased after saying that. Technically the Divines appreciating something like that is regardless, after all, the Dominon was getting away with it.
"I'll tell you this, umm, forgive me but what would be the proper title to address you?"
"Stava or Dragonborn. My other titles are reserved for those who gave them to me." She replied stiffly.
"Thank you. I'll tell you this Stava, if you do plan on fighting the Blight and staying in this world, the Chantry is something you'll have to become accustomed to. Their influence goes far and wide and has more strength than they let on. And I very much doubt they'll like you, so as a word of advice; use caution should you ever find yourself dealing with those under the banner. The Chantry is not one to start a fight with if it can be helped."
Stava smirked at his statement. She had fought entire armies by herself, dredging through piles of the dead. Taking on an organization of megalomaniacal zealots who hate magic would be no different than any other force that thought itself superior to her.
"So," She said, snapping herself from her own thoughts. "You actually believe that I'm from another world?"
"Of course I do." Duncan said firmly and straight to the point without any doubt in his voice.
That of course, was not the answer she was expecting. Stava was shocked by it, she had expected the same level of skepticism everyone else had given her. But looking into his eyes, she could tell that there was no suspicion or doubt.
Duncan's chuckling then grabbed her attention.
"I see that look in your eyes. Yes, I believe you. I've lived a life where it isn't very hard for me to believe such a thing, especially after your display of power the night of the attack. Trust me, you have my belief and support, especially if you mean what you say about joining the fight against the Darkspawn. Which is why I've come to find you. We should talk about your involvement in this." His tone returning to its normal seriousness.
"My involvement? What do you mean?" A level of confusion in her.
"There will be many who are untrusting of you, wondering after who your loyalties lie with, who you fight for. And most importantly, who you are. I don't think it wise to repeat your origin to others outside of the myself and the Couslands. Many will most likely call you a demon."
Stava snorted. "The weak always fear that which they do not understand. I will do what I must to save this world and return to my own. Regardless of whatever the simpletons of this one have to say about me or what I can do."
As Duncan was about to make retort Stava cut him off.
"But I do understand what you mean, I don't need to travel this world with a angry mob chasing me. What do you suggest then, oh mighty commander?" She asked him with snark.
"Well," he said crossing his arms. "The best cover for you would be that you are a Warden Lieutenant from Weischaupt in the Anderfels come to join me in commanding the Grey forces here. I would also advise limiting communication with most people, pretending to know only a little bit of common tongue to help your cover."
The Dragonborn scowled. She didnt like the idea of jumping through so many hoops to just to keep people happy. And going undercover was never her style, she always preferred the head on approach to solving her problems. Burn the forest to flush out the bandits was always her plan, not dressing in sheeps clothing.
"I think perhaps, instead of wasting everyone's time, you take me straight to the source of this Blight. Tell me, where is the Arch-Demon? Where does it roost so that I may vanquish it and go home. I don't want to be here any longer than I absolutely must."
Duncan sighed.
"I do not know where it is. I would ask you please have patience, this is a very delicate situation that needs to be handled correctly. If you want to help end this, then I suggest you follow along with atleast some modicum of my idea." He said gruffly as he stood from his seat.
"You have a power like I have never seen before Stava Ice-Breaker. You could save countless lives with your involvement in this. Aeden and I ride to the south, where the battlefront is; we leave in only a few hours. If you are serious about fighting, then join us on the southern road at the edge of the village. Oh, and the Couslands have decided to gift you with one of their royal thoroughbreds, simply go to their stables." Duncan gave her a short bow with his hands behind him, and promptly left the library.
Stava now sat there, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed in contemplation. On one hand, she despised the idea of having to follow someone else's orders and go against her natural way of dealing with things. On the other, she was all alone in a foreign land; fighting a foreign enemy against which she had no idea how to fight. She bit her lip in frustration, knowing what the obvious course of action was. She was no fool and knew that help would be needed. After all, had she never sought help from others, Alduin would still live and all of Tamriel would live in fear and subjugation. And in her heart she knew, regardless of going home or following a few orders, she had to fight for and save these people. It was her duty. It was why she was born. Why she was given the Thu'um.
"Sworn by honor, I am to keep evil forever at bay." She whispered, echoing her pledge made before to the Greybeards.
So with her sense of duty emboldened she took upon herself to "borrow" a few of the tomes and scrolls of the library; In case she were in the need of them, and set off for her temporary room to prepare for her newest journey.
**TDB**TDB**TDB**TDB**
Stava hummed peacefully, her horse trotting along a dirt path in a mild rain. She wore her armor, knowing all to well the possibility of being attacked whilst traveling. She had made an addition to her attire though, an ankle length cloak colored black with a hood hung from her shoulders. Currently the party of four were somewhere in the Bannorn, a region much like Whiterun that was dominated by grasslands and fields. Unlike Whiterun however it was ruled by a cacophony of Bann's that often bickered with each other over influence and land. Their group had been traveling through the area for three days and judging from one of the maps she took from the library, they were still at the very least two weeks from their destination of Ostagar; an ancient battle fortress that the Ferelden army had taken to hold against the Darkspawn rising. To her side rode Aeden and Duncan both of which were quiet, mostly. Aeden had been complaining about the weather ever since it started, asking her once to make it stop like she had before. To which she had declined, it was unwise to tamper with nature excessively she explained. Even for the Dragonborn, a child of Akatosh, it was dangerous to tamper with the domain of Kynareth. And Stava just knew that regardless of this land being forsaken by the Divine's, that the Goddess would be displeased entirely by her constant changing of the weather. Such as the time when she was hunted by spriggans for weeks on end for damaging the Gildergreen.
"So quit your whining you milk drinker. Last I checked you were not made of dirt, so I doubt the rain will melt you to mud."
Aeden huffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine then oh mighty Demi-God of snarkiness. You've got the maps haven't you? Please tell me we're near a tavern of some sort. I need a warm fire and a cold drink." He sighed, the hound Rex barked agreeably with him.
Stava rolled her eyes and shook her head. She pulled her leather satchel from her side and placed her hand on it, channeling magic. The satchel, which looked like any old tattered bag, was really her most invaluable tool; a gift from Tolfdir, her teacher at the college, 'twas enchanted to be infinite in space and capable of holding any item no matter it's size or weight. Another trick it had was being sealed to any who didn't have the same magika signature of either Tolfdir or herself. Which was handy in keeping pickpockets and sneak thief's out of her most treasured loot and relics. She always reviled in amusement when seeing the shocked expressions of her companions whenever she showed it to them. "It's bigger on the inside!" They'd exclaim, making Stava laugh. Opening the bag and reaching in she pictured what she wanted in her mind and after a moment of digging was able to find it. Even with highly complicated magic, it was still difficult to get the exact thing you were looking for, the one best way of collecting it would be to focus on the on the object; and even then she'd have to rummage about shortly. Unrolling the map of the Bannorn, she traced her gloved finger along the route they were traveling until she found a small house like image, signifying an inn, near their approximate location.
"It seems to be your lucky day milk drinker, there is an inn perhaps a quarter of a league away." She said tucking the map back into her satchel before it became too wet.
"Oh thank the Maker, I don't think I can handle this weather much longer. Say, what's the weather like where you're from? You said it's far to the north, does it just snow all the time instead of rain?" He asked her.
"Yes and no, only in certain areas of Skyrim does it snow constantly; such as Windhelm, our new capital. But most of Skyrim receives rain, especially in the Reach. I love the Reach, for me it's the most beautiful land in all the realm with its rocky slopes and highlands. Great fogs roll through the ravines like a great a white river. And there are spots where you can climb so high you can see the whole of the Reach. I miss it dearly." She said quietly.
"It sounds very majestic." Duncan chimed in from his silence. "Though, I'm sure, there must be some dangers to the place as well. Such wonderful places tend to have a downside to them."
"You could say that." Stava said and closed her eyes. She didnt want to discuss the barbaric Reachmen and the slaughter they cause in the Reach. Even after having personally hunting down their leaders, they still remained in force and caused havoc wherever they could.
"What else can you tell us about this Skyrim, it sounds like a beautiful place." Duncan said in admiration.
Stava considered not speaking, so as to keep her homesickness at bay. But the prospect of speaking about her homeland was too alluring. So she told them about the beauties of the fatherland. The great windmill of Solitude, the frozen tundras of Dawnstar and Winterhold. She spoke of the many fantastic creatures that inhabited the hold, such as Mammoths and giants, trolls and sabercats. She spoke at length about the Dragons one could see flying through the sky's. The two were especially interested and perplexed at her speaking of the hundreds of burial mounds that dotted the landscape. Apparently the burying of the dead in most of Thedas was considered taboo among most of Thedas. Cremation being the prefered form of disposal, making "Demons" unable to posses their bodies. Stava knew what these demons were though. Simply opportunistic Daedra without a leash. It was frightening to know that this world was so unprotected from the realms of Oblivion, she thanked Akatosh for the Dragon Fires, for without them Tamriel truly would be a disastrous place.
Stava was just about to tell them of the Sulfar plains in Eastmarch when Aeden exclaimed excitedly-
"Look! There's the inn, sweet Andraste I've never seen anything more beautiful." Aeden yelled out, Rex barking exceptionally happy.
Indeed there it sat. A two story building with a thatch roof and a chimney with smoke rising to cloudy sky. A small pen of cattle sat to the side and a shack was off behind it. "The Flustered Fennec" the sign read, it amused Stava that naming inn's after animals was a theme here as well. A number of horses were tied off in front and hearty laughter could be heard as they neared. Disembarking their horses and tying them off at a trough for a much needed rest; collecting their gear they headed inside. A bright warm fire burned at the back wall, a bard sat relaxed in the corner plucking a gleeful tune as he drank. Stava made her way to the bar ignoring the sideways glances she was being given. The innkeeper, a short portly middle aged man with stringy brown hair was hunched over laughing with a patron. With a slap of her hand on the bar the keeper rolled his eyes and dragged himself over to the trio.
"Whatcha wan then?" He asked with a heavy Ferelden accent.
"We need two rooms, hot food and cold mead for the rest of the night." Stava said straight to the point, throwing a pouch of a hundred septims on the bar. The clinking of the pouch made the man scrunch his brow as he opened it and suddenly dropped his jaw.
"I-is this, all real gold?" The keeper asked in a whisper of disbelief.
"Well of course fool, what else would I pay you with." She replied exasperatedly.
"Of course milady, you'll be served our fines food an drink." He said as politely as he could as he shuffled off with the gold.
Stava watched him strangely with her eye brow raised. She heard a sigh from Duncan, most likely for having already disregarded her "cover" of not speaking common. Before she could say something however, Aeden chose then to speak.
"How much did you just pay him?" Aeden asked leaning over to her.
"Merely a hundred gold pieces. Just enough to cover everything why?" She asked back.
"A hundred gold?! Why are you just throwing that around? Better yet why do you have that just sitting on your belt? I mean, I'm from a noble family and even I don't carry around that much." Aeden was now flustered and clearly trying to figure out the situation.
"What do you mean? A hundred gold isn't that much, I've been paid that just to carry a letter before." Stava replied not seeing the issue. Back in Skyrim even the poor had stacks of gold stashed away. In fact, besides gemstones and loot, she'd never even seen another form of payment.
"If it makes you feel better I have much much more where that came from. That little pouch won't be making a dent in my wealth. In fact, if you'd prefer I'll just pull a chest full of jewels and baubles from my satchel to pay him with." She said sarcastically. The funny thing was that she actually could do that very thing.
Before Aeden could reply though the inn keeper returned with a large wooden mug the size of a helmet. Stava smiled and took the mug, giving its contents a sniff before slowly turning it bottoms up and draining it in great big gulps; two small streams running down her face from the corners of her mouth. The cold brew was crisp and tasted somewhat of apples. It left her throat and belly tingling, causing her to laugh as she slammed the empty mug on the bar.
"Ahhh." She exclaimed, feeling refreshed. "By Talos' beard this is fantastic! Here, take my things to my room and bring me more!" She said, throwing her belongings onto the short man who was barely able to hold it all as he waddled off upstairs.
"Why don't you two follow him whilst I acquaint myself with the local flavor. 'Tis been too long since I've drank with merry. And I've been much too dour for the past few days."
She walked off then towards a table with several men. Farmers by the look of them. Even homesick and serious as she was, the need for a drink outweighed her melancholy. If there was one thing she learned from all her adventures, it's that even when the world is coming to an end, you should always find the time to get drunk with friends and strangers.
'Oh how proud Sanguine would be of me right now.' She thought with a chuckle.
**TDB**TBD**TDB**
Aeden stood leaning against a beam near the fire. The inn had become quite the raucous place. Of all the parties and gatherings Aeden had ever been to in all his life, the noble had never seen someone who was as wild as Stava. The strange woman had out drank every man by gallons. The number of mugs that piled up at her table had grown to over 20. And she was still going. A mug was to her lips as she arm wrestled one of the burliest fellows he'd ever seen. And she was winning. The bear of a man was purple in the face trying to force her arm down. But with each loud gulp of mead she overpowered him and slowly pushed his all the way down to the table. The crowd around them erupting in boos and cheers, the sound of coins exchanging hands accompanied with more than a few sour faces.
"She's most certainly a rambunctious woman isn't she."
Aeden jumped, gripping his chest from the startling.
"Makers mercy! Please sir Duncan you'll kill me before the Darkspawn ever have a chance." Aeden sighed out.
"Apologies Aeden, and please there's no need for the sir." He said now turning his attention to Stava was now attempting to coax the lute from the bard.
Aeden noticed that Duncan was still wearing his armor. He found it strange the old warden seemed to never remove it. In fact, Aeden noticed that Duncan always seemed on guard, rarely relaxed for even a moment. Even Stava had shed her armor and weapons after getting well liquored. But the one thing that always concerned Aeden was the look in Duncan's eyes whenever he was silent and would drift off. It was a sad look. The kind a man gets when he's seen things more horrible than the average man can imagine. 'Twas the same look that war veterans had whenever they spoke the past. He wasn't one to compare but Aeden could somewhat understand. The night Howe betrayed them had repeated itself in his head constantly, it was the first time he'd ever killed and once the battle had ended; the realization of how many died hit him hard. The most shocking thing however was seeing the aftermath that Stava had left. The carnage went far beyond the roasting at the main gate. The morning after, Aeden had seen first hand the bodies she had left behind. Bodies had been crushed and squashed by some unknown force, many covered or encased fully in ice. There were these four though that had to be removed while covered. Their bodies looked as though they had been drained of everything, leaving behind shriveled husks.
The memory of their sunken eyes and grey skin sent shiver down his spine. Aeden looked at Stava, perplexed that the drunken woman (who was now singing a song about someone named Ragnar) was the person behind such terrible deaths. The men may have been murderers and betrayers, but no one deserved the deaths they'd received. Aeden could feel his brow furrowing while he watched Stava.
"Judge not lest you be judged, Aeden. The window of persecution is often a mirror." Duncan said beside him. His words almost sagely.
"Duncan, you saw everything she did. This woman is dangerous. Like a rogue mage. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what she is capable of is terrifying." He said without looking away from the woman in question.
"She," Duncan began. "Is no more dangerous than any other individual you meet. The only difference between her and a soldier or Darkspawn is the other worldly power she wields. As the old phrase goes, we often fear that which we don't understand. She will help tremendously in our fight against darkness. You can't judge an individual until you've shared a moment with them." With that he retreated off to a corner with a cushioned chair.
Aeden sighed, there was a rightness to his words that rung true. Whether the woman was dangerous or not didn't really matter. She had saved his family's lives and had joined the fight against the Darkspawn. He was going to have to get used to her. He doubted he'd ever get over the unsettling knowledge of what she is capable of, but he'd give it a try.
"And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no moooore- When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!" Stava finished out her song, followed by cheers.
"Maker, what kind of song is that?" Aeden said to himself. Rubbing his eyes he left the room as she started singing again, heading towards the room for much needed sleep. If one thing was certain, it was that there were not going to be any dull moments in his life for a long time. Stepping into the room he found Rex curled up on his bed, snoring. Aeden shook his head, smiled, and simply got into bed with the large dog who just shifted slightly to accommodate his master. Relaxed and calmed, Aeden felt himself starting to slip into blissful sleep.
...
That was until panicked yells sounded throughout the inn, jolting Aeden and Rex from their sleep. The latter who's ears were raised and ran off into the main room barking. Aeden grabbed his sword and ran after him, ready for a fight. Entering the room he found the reason for the shouting. The group of patrons that had been partying with Stava now had faces of fear and rage, chairs and small knives held in their hands. Stava herself was knelt next to a screaming man whose skin seemed to be replaced with wood, her hand on his arm trying to calm him. Duncan was between her the patrons with her blades drawn, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, ready to strike at a moments notice.
"Would you stop your incessant screaming man, I can't concentrate with you sounding like a little girl!" Stava yelled at him.
"You monster! Disgusting mage! Burn the witch!" The crowd chorused in anger.
Joining Duncan, he drew is sword and turned his head.
"What's going on?! What did you do?" He asked Stava, confused beyond belief.
"It was just a simple misfire! I meant to do it on myself as a trick! I can fix it if this imbecile Would. Stop. Squirming!" She responding through gritted teeth. Her hands began glowing in a blue green light as the wood on the mans skin began disappearing.
"Maker have mercy on me! Save me from this wretched thing!" The man screamed, trying to wriggle out of Stava's grasp. Suddenly Stava punched him, rendering him unconscious. The spell, now being unimpeded by the man, was able to remove all the wood and bark from his flesh and made him normal. The crowd however continued hollering and jeering at Stava, who picked the man up and sat him in a chair. They started inching forward, screaming indecent words and filthy names at her. Calling her a demons whore and a monster in human skin. Aeden instinctively tightened the grip on his sword. Rex beside him growling and snarling, baring his teeth at the patrons.
"ENOUGH!" Stava roared. Her voice so loud it caused all in the room the drop their weapons and hold their ears, dust from the banisters above falling down onto their heads. Looking up Aeden saw this flash in her eyes, this look of impending cruelty. An orange light engulfed her hand and as she raised it, so too did the patrons. They dropped their weapons and grabbed at their throats, gasping and squelching as though they were being chocked.
"Stava!" Duncan yelled. She blinked and was thrown out of her rage, realizing what she was doing. She released her magical grasp and the men fell to the floor coughing and wheezing.
"We are leaving! Stay down!" She said, leaving the room with a slight wobble before shortly returning armored and cloaked with her black blade in hand.
"Get up you three. Gather your things and lets be gone from here." She spat disgustedly.
She walked out of the inn, glaring daggers of death at the patrons she had just partied with.
"Gather your things Aeden. Quickly." Duncan told him all too serious, getting up and following after Stava with heavy angry steps.
"Never going to be a dull moment eh boy?." Aeden groaned to Rex, who just whimpered in reply.
