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"It said we would be fighting the Darkspawn yes?"
This question was asked by a towering stone Golem called Shale. Said Golem had apparently been standing paralysed in a village square for the last thirty years until the Grey Wardens and company had arrived. Presumably the nicknaming and incredible sarcasm had been building up for decades.
"Yes that is what I said" replied 'It', more commonly known as Odin Brosca.
"I am somewhat surprised. With all the other flesh creatures it has gathered I assumed it was planning to start a travelling circus."
Odin chose to play along. "Certainly, you are to be our star attraction, the amazing, talking, skull crushing Golem! Roll up! Roll up!"
"Very amusing" rumbled Shale "My skull crushing however, is for my amusement only. I am pleased that at least that I am not the only non flesh-creature in this circus, even if it made from wood. A flimsy material if you ask me, stone is far superior."
"Ah yes our mysterious chest, where it comes from nobody knows." Odin was clearly enjoying his ringmaster role.
"Yes" the Golem deadpanned "Perhaps some humans, mages probably, tried to make their own Golems?"
"I thought that" Odin said seriously. "But all the mages I've spoken claim to never have heard of any such creations."
"Mages, in my experience, are a secretive and untrustworthy bunch. It should be careful."
"Thanks for the concern but when are going to stop calling me 'It'?"
"Never"
"Would some gold change your mind?"
"Gold?" scoffed the Golem "If it thinks I can be bribed with such soft and useless metal It should check if its' puny skull is cracked."
"You're right of course" replied Odin looking apologetic, briefly.
"Would these ever so shiny crystals help?"
"…Perhaps"
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After a day of fruitlessly wondering the forest for the Dalish Elves the tired group were relaxing round the campfire. A hearty venison stew had been cooked by Leliana to everyone's delight and relief. The relief came from the fact that it was technically Alistair's turn to make supper but previous attempts had led to a permanent ban. Odin privately wondered if that was deliberate, no one could have possible failed that badly by accident…
Along with providing weapons and laundry services the Luggage had also produced cooking equipment and crockery for the entire group. All of these abilities were a common source of conversation for the entire company.
"I wonder how much storage space your wooden friend has?" asked Zevran, thinking aloud as he deposited the plates back into the gaping maw of the Luggage.
"Damned if I know" replied Odin "and I'm not curious enough to go poking around, people disappear in there and never come out. All the same he's the best accomplice ever."
Zevran raised his eyebrows at that "I am hurt Warden."
Poacher also heard that comment and a set of very sad puppy eyes were directed at Odin.
"One of the best" amended Odin, carefully avoiding a mutiny. Poacher promptly sat down next to the warden, deciding that a great deal of ear scratching and treat giving would be needed before he forgot this slight.
"Well let's just say he's my favourite chest." Odin continued, hoping he was in the clear.
His hound let out a relatively satisfied bark at this, although he still expected to get some extra snacks and petting out of this, maybe even a few games of fetch.
Zevran still looked upset, or at least he tried to. He couldn't quite keep the grin off his face however. "I am still deeply insulted warden, is my own well toned and bronzed chest not good enough for you?"
"You're not my type." Odin decisively pronounced. "Besides if I'm going to be looking at anyone's chest it's Morrigan's. Now that is a truly magnificent chest, and so easy to appreciate."
Zevran nodded in agreement "Ah fair enough then, the fair skinned mage is a beautiful creature but she is certainly not the only one."
"Anyone in particular on your mind?" asked Odin "Apart from me." he added noticing the sly glance Zevran sent in his direction.
"Well now, what about out other mage? Madam Wynne has a most magical bosom, truly remarkable for a woman of her years."
"I hadn't really noticed" Odin answered, truthfully. "I'm usually too busy being lectured on my duty to notice such things whenever I talk to her."
"That is a pity my dear warden, you should not allow yourself to be distracted from beauty" advised Zevran.
"But being distracted by beauty can be far more dangerous." Said an Orleasian accented voice emerging from the shadows.
"Alas that is true" lamented Zevran as he turned to address Leliana. "But surely even being trapped in a Closter for two years cannot have blinded you to beauty my charming minstrel?"
"Such thoughts would be inappropriate in a Chantry!" exclaimed Leliana, looking slightly guilty.
"Such repression my dear woman" laughed Zevran "the offer for my…assistance still stands, I am at your service."
"How noble of you Zevran" Odin deadpanned.
"Yes, very kind but I'm afraid the rest of Thedas is still very much alive so your offer is unnecessary" answered Leliana, with a small completely innocent smile painted on her face.
"How cruel it is to deny yourself such delectable enjoyment, but it is your choice, even if it breaks my heart." Zevran looked plausibly broken hearted before immediately perking up. "But my original point is that beauty, chest-related or otherwise is everywhere in our group."
"A good point well made" agreed Odin "They are lots of fine chests out there wooden or otherwise."
"What are you all talking about?" asked Alistair, joining the others around the fireside.
"What perfect timing" exclaimed Leliana "We were just discussing fine chests and from I saw while you were bathing in the river earlier yours defiantly merits attention, such exquisite muscles!"
How Leliana managed to sound as innocent as she did while saying that Odin would never know but he was too busy laughing to care. Zevran meanwhile was nodding in agreement, giving the former Templar a very through once over.
As for Alistair himself his cheeks had turned a magnificent shade of red.
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Far away from the campsite others were watching the party's progress with great interest. They were sat round a gigantic map of Thedas with an almost countless number of moving pieces all going to and fro in their own little ways. But two beings in particular were eyeing the small marked campsite on the edges of the Brecilian Forest as though trying to work out what would happen next.
The first looked like a middle aged man with greying black hair. The other was a pleasant looking young woman. But the most noticeable, and telling, feature of both individuals were their eyes. The man's eyes were entirely black with a few tiny bright dots in them. The women's were a brilliant shade of green from lid to lid. Both sets of eyes were narrowed in concentration.
There were a great many spectators gathered around the table. Some were familiar with two beings and let them focus. Others were unfamiliar and still somewhat confused about the new and strange situation they were now in. As a result there were numerous discussions happening around the map.
"It's bad enough that this lot come in and start interfering in our world and with one of our own people but why do they have to take so damn long about it?" demanded an elderly dwarf warrior with a melancholic look on his face.
The female dwarf next to him nodded in agreement. She would have added her own strongly worded opinion but she had cut out her own tongue a few centuries back. It was a fine gesture of defiance at the time but it had its downsides.
"At least there's free ale." Said a third dwarf, passing a pair of overflowing tankards to his fellows, having thoroughly tested the beverage on offer and decided that it matched his high standards. At this the duo nodded and both decided that was a positive. They clacked their tankards together and drank deeply.
Further on a smaller group of rather fey looking elves looked on; they seemed rather insignificant next to the other beings, all except a rather smug looking wolf that appeared to have found a bloody chuck of flesh to eat.
"As strange as the game is it could lead to great changes for our people." Said one of the male elves shrewdly, playing with a small bear talisman that hung around his neck as he did so.
"Good changes or bad changes?" asked the kind looking matron to his left.
"That will depend on fate and luck." He answered, once again looking at the map.
Not all the discussions from the newcomers were focused on the map. In a previously quiet corner a women was having a rather loud argument with a dragon.
"I am the true prophet! How dare you take my identity and turn my loyal followers into crazed fanatics!" Despite the volume and anger of this statement the woman's voice remained remarkably melodious.
The Dragon snorted in response, a small amount of smoke emerging from its' nostrils.
"They are not!" retorted the woman, apparently able to interpret the Dragon.
The Dragon stared at her
She let out a frustrated sigh "Alright some have lost their way; I didn't tell them to start locking up mages or create a massive corrupt hierarchy of priests with far too much power but that's no excuse!"
"This could carry on for some time." Thundered a powerfully built older man wearing a blindfold, who been listening in on the noisy theological debate.
"Religious schisms always cause the nastiest arguments." Said Om, noticing this development with some discomfort, it was giving him some unpleasant flashbacks.
Back at the map a pair of black eyes looked across to the lady sitting opposite. He was rather enjoying himself; it was nice to have a change of scenery and a new game board to play on, even if it was by chance.
"It is your move my dear."
The lady smiled. She was also enjoying this new challenge, but she had absolutely no intention of losing to her long time rival. Still she had plenty of options, and a few familiar pieces to use should they be required.
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