The Strength of Stone (Recruitment)

[Delcan Damsein]

The snow crunched softly under the young man's feet as he neared the peak of the mountain. He used his staff to gauge the depth of the snow, never losing his footing as he moved to the stone dais, looking at the wares the topsider dwarves had to offer. He brushed his hand past his coin purse, and frowned as he remembered he had emptied the last of it on food....two days ago. His order's name finally seemed to aid him, the guards almost immediately allowing him access into the great dwarven city. 

It wasn't long before the Grey Warden was hired for a Deeps Road expedition. The benefactor of the trip thought that skill of a mage would be worthwhile...even if it was just for show and to give his name a little more gossip. Desten arrived at the entrance of the Deep Roads an hour before they asked him to be there, only to find them packed and ready to go. The dwarf in the most amount of armor approached him. "Ah, so this is the wee mag we're supposed to be protecting then? I was expecting something more...intimidating." 

Desten remained silent as he elected to walk ahead towards the gate. "Hey, didn't you hear me?"

"Gaellon...just...just leave him be." One of the younger dwarves in the back stammered. The armoured dwarf just gave him a shove and turned back to the Warden as he stepped further in. From the echo of the hall, a reply came. "You aren't here to protect me. I'm here to protect you."

 

-A Short While After-

 

Desten gasped for air as he finally had a moment of rest. The darkspawn had been relentlessly, already cutting down the two dwarves under Gaellon. The armoured dwarf gurgled off the side, having been run through already with a darkspawn sword. Desten hurried over, his staff clanking with each step. He knelt beside Baellon and dropped the piece of darkspawn iron he had picked up during the fighting, and held a hand over the wound. "Just relax...I..." He took a deep breath and focused. "I think I can keep you alive i-" Almost as if it had been called for, the darkspawn rattled somewhere in the nearby thaig, hunting for fresh meat. The young mage continued with his healing, ignoring the stench of the burning bodies and pools of blood under his feet and knees, but soon the darkspawn had found their mark, and raced towards him. They only had to cross the bridge, and they would be on him once again.

[Trix-are-for-Logan]

In another part of the caverns the soft and rhythmic thud of footsteps could be heard. Though to the dwarf to whom the footsteps belonged looked anything but soft, his eyes are alert, vigilant to even the slightest vibration foreign to the stone he and his kin knew so well. Though if one were to look at his eyes they would appear glazed over somewhat, perhaps from exhaustion, or lack of sleep and food, or a hellish combination of the three. But on the surface he looks calm and ready, lantern swinging from his hip to light his way in the seemingly eternal darkness that was the deep roads. 

The dwarf hummed to himself, so quietly that to others within the deep road it might sound like the stone was humming, the deep rumble of his voice echoing off the cavern walls and bounced back at him, making him feel safe in perhaps the most dangerous place a dwarf of Orzammar could be. Bael rounded a corner of the cavern wall and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his frown deepened further than when he contemplated his situation during the long nights that were the Deep Roads. Several darkspawn rushed across the bridge, like wild barbarians they appeared to be racing for something...as Bael's eyes followed their path he saw several fallen warriors and a figure bent over a fallen body. 

Looking more closely in the moment at the bodies he could tell at least a few were of the warrior caste, his caste. Weighing his options in the moment it would have been quite easy to walk back into the deep roads and around them, finding his way back to the Legionnaire camp...but perhaps it was a trading expedition gone wrong, and they would have plenty of coin. Biting the inside of his lip Bael decided to help, pulling the crossbow from his back and his shortsword from it's scabbard, prepared to do battle.

[Delcan Damsein]

The ground around Desten seemed to rumble as the darkspawn began their charge from the other end. He looked down into the armored dwarf's eyes, eyes that begged for help. Eyes that didn't want to lose their light. But there was nothing the young mage could do now. Maybe if he was more powerful, maybe if he had more time...but they were all just maybes. The dwarf was already dead as far as fate was concerned, and if Desten did not act so he would be. He put a hand on the dwarf's wound and simply tried to ease the pain, looking at the dwarf as his voice dripped with sincerity and sorrow. "I'm...I'm sorry..." The dwarf gurgled in protest, not wanting to be left to die. The dwarf coughed up and blood as his hand weakly reached for the mage, trying to grab him and bring him back. But with the tips of his fingers, he missed.

And with that, Desten stood, picking up his new sword and sticking it into his belt. The wooden staff thudded against the stone with a dull sound, as he approached the bridge just as the darkspawn passed halfway over it. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself and prepare his body for the price it was about to pay. In that moment, he wished that he had Raelan or any of the other Wardens with him, but he was alone. He raised both of his hands, and soon the air around him became hot, before flames burst forward from both of his hands, a steady stream aimed at the group approaching him. The first few in the wave screamed as their armor turned into the devices of their death, as it welded against their skin as the rest of their bodies were consumed in fire. Those that hadn't charged the mage hesitated for a moment, giving the Legionnaire in the shadows more than enough time to close the gap.

[Trix-are-for-Logan]

With only the moment to survey the situation and even less time to formulate a plan, Bael begin running full speed at the scene, loosing a crossbow bolt at the horde, it landed squarely in the chest of a larger darkspawn. The horde did not seem to notice though still advancing into the flame of the slight mage, Bael stooped while running for a handful of dirt sprinkling some in his beard. Best that magefire did not set it alight he thought as he got closer to them. 

The stocky dwarf shouted to the mage, "Don't stop the fire!" he says as he stands at the edge of the bridge cutting down a darkspawn here and there, but they seemed to be unending, he looked back at the unmoving dwarf and counted him as a loss, nodding his head at him in respect before giving his attention back to the battle. Ducking a darkspawn blade and giving a swift riposte into the fiends gut something poked Bael himself in the gut. Looking down he saw his flask and from his light red beard the white of his teeth appeared, accented by the dirtiness of his beard. Though the plan was good he wondered if wasting his beloved drink would be worth the life of mage...

No matter, Bael begin liberally splashing the contents of his flask at the edge of the bridge before a flame ignited the whole of the alcohol. Shouting a curse at the mage that he wasnt quite ready he began running back the way he came, waving at the mage as he went, whether he followed or tended to the dead companions and the heat of his own flame, Bael did not know, he knew only that his legs were taking him back to the camp, and hopefully to a new flask of his beloved brandy.

 

[Delcan Damsein]

Desten didn't need to be told twice in this circumstance, pushing himself to keep the flame going as the dwarf enacted his master plan. Or at least what the mage assumed was the dwarf's master plan, because it worked brilliantly. The darkspawn halted their advance, with none of them being brave enough to push through the intensity of the fire.

As soon as the wall of fire was erected, he quickly moved to grab his staff and a coin purse off of Gaellon's belt, who had already stopped breathing. Without wasting another minute, he began jogging towards the dwarf, and when he was in earshot he asked. "Wait! Who are you?"

[Raziak]

"Hope...Where are you?"

Toiling without rest, killing like it is as necessary as breathing, constantly relocating...these are the tales of the Dwarves within the eternal darkness known as the Deep Roads.

Deep within the abandoned roads of a long-lost Dwarven empire laid a constantly active camp that moved about as often as a bed within a brothel. Being rooted is a strategic flaw when the darkness whispers maledictions of impending doom. Roving Jormig, the camp, modestly named after a fallen comrade, was ten Dwarves strong including a scout that was currently away. The sounds of three voices laughing, the grinding of a sharpening stone against metal and a fire located between ten small hide tents were the only indicators of existing life. The wisps of smoke rising from the fire and its hardly venerable glow were 'gifts' from the thick underground air and stagnant humidity that threatened to even put the fire out entirely.

"Gilim! Gilim! Flynn! Any-Dwarf!"

One of the inhabitants of the camp came rushing back from the void, covered in sweat and his beard dripping. Gorun was the Dwarf, and the Dwarf assigned to keeping watch over the camp while the others prepared for what always came; Darkspawn. Gorun ran as fast as a stocky being could and fell to his face with a grunt before the small group of males huddled by the fire. Amongst these males were Gilim, Flynn and Jiri, each holding the camps highest level of longevity. When Gorun fell, they all stood up from their rocky perches and drew their weapons. Gilim, the eldest, spoke firmly,

"They are coming?"

The poor Dwarf still trying to rise to his feet was soon offered a hand by Flynn, of whom was acclaimed to have the best axe-hands in all of Orzammar. When Gorun stood, he bowed his head to them all and spoke after taking a much needed breathe, 

"Bael...and someone chasing after him! Not jus' that...Darkspawn are massing behind us, from the gate we came through! They have a biggun' with 'em..."

The Dwarves all looked to each other and bolted off to gather their equipment. Like clockwork, the fire went out and lanterns holding stones that glowed dimly with an ominous blue light took its place in providing light. Then, the tents were expertly torn down and stuffed under rocks and covered in dirt to disguise their presence. When the camp, for the most part, deconstructed, each of the Dwarves hid behind boulders that provided over-watch on their position. Flynn and Jiri kept their positions close to the road in which Bael and the unknown being were coming from, whilst Gilim, Gorun and the other Dwarves kept watch on the road they came from. They were ready for the worst...as always. 

[Trix-are-for-Logan]

Deciding not to waste his precious breath on pleasantries for the mage Bael kept the impressive pace he had set when they began running from the darkspawn. All of his gear remained remarkably quiet during the jog, perhaps due to his time in the caves, just over 7 months by Baels count. According to the stories from Gilim most Dwarves lasted just about a year, but Gilim himself was just coming up on his 2 year anniversary. As Bael and the tall mage came upon the camp it appeared to have been scuttled and dampened as though in preparation for an attack, even from afar. He would mention that to Gilim before he and his brother left, if only so that they might last longer in their absence. After seeing the glimmer of what he imagined was a very bright lamp on the surface, Bael had marked it during his scouting and made plans to extract his brother...before coming upon the mage's losing battle. Bael looked back at the mage spitefully keeping the same pace before looking ahead. The Dwarf made a sequence of strange hand signals as he got closer to the camp.

[Delcan Damsein]

Desten huffed and puffed as he tried to keep pace with the dwarf. The Legionnaire had already impressed him at the bridge, but now he was more in awe of the way the short warrior moved through the dark and menacing tunnels. Just as they were reaching the camp, which he didn't even realize, he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. Even though his body was exhausted from the run, his mind had had time to rest. He turned quickly and raised his staff towards the nearest hurlock, shooting a bolt of lightning at it that went right through its chest cavity. Before it even hit the ground, the young mage had already turned towards a genlock archer he spotted, raising the earth around him and decapitating the archer with it. The hoard was almost upon him again, and he turned to run, though they would be upon him soon.

[Raziak]

A handful of seconds had passed before a black-clad dwarf with an obnoxious lantern at his hip came hopping and waddling towards the snuffed-out camp. When a series of hand gestures and finger wiggling had come to pass, Flynn erupted from behind a boulder and glared at the mage directly behind Bael. Flynn didn't like mages, nor did he trust them. Shortly after, Jiri followed and held the same level of cautiousness towards the magic-user. Carefully, slowly, Flynn approached Bael, regardless of what Darkspawn the mage was fighting off and spoke out firmly,

"Lemme' guess...A Warden on a mission? No, wait, a new friend! I always knew ye' loved makin' friends. 'Specially the kind that..."

Flynn's voice grew louder,

"...shoot damned fire an' lightning from their rotten little fingers!"

Jiri shrugged and soon after pointed at the massing Darkspawn that was coming from behind Bael and the Mage with widened eyes,

"Here they COME!"

The rest of the camp had been preparing for a flank attack rallied by Flynn, Jiri and Bael. Gilim in particular laughed from his stomach when he saw Bael, then eyed the Human. The Saint-like smile that adorned his face remained even when he saw the Human. Years of being in the Deep Roads gave him an inkling that the Human was a Warden, or perhaps some poor bastard that tripped down a Spawn Hole,

"And who do we have here?"

All of the Dwarves readied their weapons and equipment at the oncoming Darkspawn in the distance of which they could practically smell while Flynn and Gilim seemed too possessed by the appearance  of a new face than the Darkspawn of which they were all too familiar with. In fact, the gurgled screams and guttural roars of the demons approaching was like a dinner bell, and all the Dwarves were quite starving.

[Trix-are-for-Logan]

Bael rolled his eyes at his brother's comments though the twin orbs' movement could not be seen in the darkness. However the sound of the darkspawn at their heel grew ever louder, Bael shouted to his kinsman A battlecry of preparation. He readied his short broadsword hearing the unimpressive sound of the legions weapons leaving scabbards. Bael watched as the mage fried a darkspawn as an impressive show of his power, this did not remove the ever present thought of pressing one of his daggers behind the mans skull though. 

The Darkspawn rumble of footsteps continued to grow until they rounded a corner and appeared all the larger of a horde than at the bridge. The Dwarves lined up foot to foot looking to each other once before looking to the end of the line where the mage joined them in their formation. With a couple of misplaced gazes and shrugs they brought their attention back to the darkspawn. The Darkspawn shouted something unintelligible before running at them, each dwarf appeared as at home as a noble dwarf before the hearth of a warm fire. 

Bael fought with his shortsword and dagger, stationary so as to cover the sides of the dwarves to his left and right, one of which was his brother Flynn. Flynn fought like a whirlwind in the darkness, darkspawn around him looking warily as their companions fell before his Greataxe or a lucky slash from Bael. The mage at the end of the line appeared to be holding his own exceptionally well but Bael did not pay too much attention as the blade of a particularly large hurlock got close to his beard before a lucky reflex from Gorun saved him. Ducking under the parry of his friend and former accomplice Bael gave the Darkspawn special attention from his blades, spraying himself with the blood of the enemy. 

The dwarves handled themselves with impressive fortitude cutting down the darkspawn easily at the edge of the land they occupied. As the last of them were cut down Bael shouted out, "Make sure they're tucked in, Gorun!" the dwarf mentioned appeared to know what he meant as he placed his shield on his back and began inspecting the bodies for signs of life.

The dwarves now turned to the mage looking expectantly.

[Delcan Damsein]

Desten quickly tried to control his breathing as he settled down into the dwarven line. He wouldn't survive without them, but that didn't mean he would let them have all the fun. He pulled his newly acquired darkspawn sword into his right hand, and slowly started to form fire in his other. As the darkspawn crashed against them, he parried a hurlock's blade and grabbed it's head with his left hand, burning it's mind out before tossing the dead darkspawn to the side. He fought right inline with the dwarves, managing to kill one just before it got to one of the Legionnaires. Before Desten was even aware, the battle was over.

As he met the stares of his new found acquaintances, he cleared his throat before speaking, finally taking back his breath. "The Legion of the Dead, right?" He offered a grin. "You certainly live up to what I've heard from my fellow Wardens." He then outstretched a hand to the group as a whole, seeing if any of them would take it. "I'm Desten Damsein, of the Grey Wardens."

 

[Raziak]

Darkspawn never ceased to be an annoyance.

Their 'conversation' was put to a quick end when the blackened husks that lacked life made their attack on the group of Dwarves and one Man. Bael and the Warden thwarted the initial assault that the Darkspawn had commenced and Flynn followed in suit by rushing forward with his battleaxe, swinging in full-circles. Limbs and heads flew from his vicinity to the taint-spattered earth beneath their feet and the other Dwarves did the same.

The Darkspawn seemed to very quickly lose interest as their numbers were whittled down to nothing in a matter of moments. Yelling, roaring and screaming from both parties filled the stagnant air and when Flynn had the opportunity to, he took his rightful place next to Bael's side and bore a vicious grin,

"A pity they don't complain more before they die..."

Gilim and Jiri paired together at their flank and held off yet another assault that was intending on trying to split them up. Unfortunately for the Darkspawn, that endeavor was cut short right quick. Gilim howled out in achievement as the Darkspawn faded and retreated to gather their numbers, which would take some time. After the battle, Flynn noticed Gorun turning and kicking corpses to make absolutely sure all were exactly that; corpses.

All of the Dwarves communed together in front of the Warden, and when a hand of peace and greeting was extended, Flynn took that opportunity to shake said hand,

"Aye. Legion of the Damned, me thinks."

Flynn chuckled something grim at the thought, but felt a wind of ease push away the emotions that usually followed when mentioning their current position of being forsaken to eternal combat until death,

"Desten ye' said. As you've probably already found out, this here is Bael of House Cadash, and I Flynn of House Cadash. These Dwarves here are Gilim, Jiri, Gorun and...the others are 'round 'ere somewhere. They can offer 'proper' introductions."

[Delcan Damsein]

Desten curses under his breath. "Sorry, I knew that. I'm not used to uh..." He waved his darkspawn iron towards the dead mass. "This yet. Only been with the Wardens a year..." He then offered the kind dwarf smile, then nodded to the other dwarves. "But I appreciate the welcome. You all deserve the legends we are topside." 

He stepped over the bodies without any regard for the darkspawn dead, before he reached Bael and offered his hand and arm again, looking at Flynn. "I actually wasn't able to meet your brother. He uh...saved me closer towards the thaig and we ran here." He then looked back to his savior and grinned. "I won't exaggerate any, but...well, you saved my thick head. Thank you."

[Trix-are-for-Logan]

Bael looks at his broadsword sliding it back into his scabbard and then at his crossbow, he had reloaded it in the heat of the battle and the tension would eventually make it loose, he fired the bolt into the nearest slightly moving hurlock and replaced the crossbow on his back. Standing with his brother and the other dwarves he let his Brother do the talking, taking the time to pack a roll of paper with aleroot and lighting it with a matchbox kept close to his heart in a pocket. Taking a long drag of the elfroot Bael began to feel the aches of his joints and pain, dull pain of bruises and bumps from the deep roads leaving his body. He looked at the rolled up paper for a moment with a grin before taking another drag, closing his eyes to enjoy it even more. 

It felt like he was there for a long time, alone with the root and in a different place a lighter place, but then he opened his eyes to the darkness. Darker than normal he realized that the mage was standing above him and holding out his hand, he had been oblivious to their conversation and did not expect to be involved after it began. He Grasped the arm of the mage with his free hand, his nostrils puffing out smoke like a miniature chimney. "Thick indeed, I was saving the dwarf, you were extra." he grumbles thinking about the dwarf he had left behind and taking another drag of his root. 

He takes a step back turning to go and examine the bodies with Gorun, leaving the mage and his brother Flynn to discuss more mundane things than the threads soon to be cut that were hurlock lives. For many of them the last sound heard would be an off hand joke told by Bael, and a low laugh by Gorun before their world went dark.

[Delcan Damsein]

Desten frowns a bit at that, but decides to shrug it off. In truth, he had actually liked the dwarf just based off his resourceful rescue. He then turned back towards Flynn, and walks up to him, before bending over to pick up his staff again. He then looked back to Flynn, and offered a smile before he spoke, "So, Flynn of House Cadash, do you have a moment to talk to me or would you rather me out of your hair? I wouldn't want to wear out my welcome."