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[[Evening: 9:20 Dragon, Bloomingtide, three miles short of Ansburg in the Free Marches]] Shokrakar
Sati hadn’t felt much in the last few weeks. After wallowing in the grief that had consumed her following Ser Lehman’s murder and her abrupt dismissal, she had shut her emotions behind a wall and tried as much as possible to keep them there. She’d wobbled a little when she had returned to her home village and found no trace of her parents. After a little questioning, she’d learned that rumours of a qunari raiding party gradually encroaching on the area had been spreading, and overnight they’d upped sticks and vanished. It was sensible. Her parents were Tal-Vashoth and as far from the brutish image that term inferred as it was possible to be - neither would have stood a chance against trained warriors, and they wouldn’t have been shown any mercy either. They’d left only a couple of months ago, but could have gone anywhere.
Thedas was vast. Sati had no idea where to even start looking. She put her feelings back behind the wall.
She’d visited home rarely since coming under Ser Lehman’s tutelage, and perhaps that had been a mistake. The people she remembered as children were now nearly adults themselves, and while a few had offered sympathy, most were clearly glad to see the back of her. She couldn’t blame them. It was a rare day that a sword-wielding qunari came as a welcome sight. She could have taken ownership of her old dwelling, but it just felt like a shell. All the personal touches that had made it a home were long since gone. The village headsman, Eidread Gelbraint, quietly suggested that she might try her luck with a mercenary company in a big city.
Once upon a time, she’d let herself dream of being a knight. She had the training, and some of the experience. Sati wasn’t naive; she knew that Ser Lehman had taken her on for the glory it gave him to have a qunari at his command, but she’d worked hard every day to prove that she was worthy of the chance. Now like any Tal-Vashosh, she was going to end up a sellsword. There was little else she knew how to do, except perhaps be a scribe, and who was going to hire her for that?
She fought the heavy weight in her chest. She would not shame her mentor’s memory by succumbing to despair, even though as each day went by, each step felt a little harder.
Fortunately, she at least had a few coins to her name. She had decided completely at random to head for Ansbury - there were always a few wealthy merchants there who needed bodyguards - and along the way she’d escorted a lord’s youngest son and his retinue. They’d parted ways at the man’s country estate, and now she might be able to afford a night in a tavern once she reached the city, before starting her search for work.
Unfortunately, it looked as though she would be sodden through by then. The sky had opened a little while ago and Sati was staggering a little in the mud, rain coursing down her face. The pathways leading to the city should be well defined further in but she was just far out enough that it was still mostly mud track, sucking at her boots with each step. She could have pulled off to the side and hidden under a tree, hoping to wait it out, but if she had her distances right Ansburg was only a few miles off. She could survive another couple of hours of this. It wasn’t as though sunshine would have made her feel any better anyway.
However, she wasn’t so numb that she missed a faint flash of light through the trees as she approached a bend in the path. It was definitely armour, and she slowed her pace, stepping carefully up to the trees and peering around the corner. Her breath caught in her throat.
Qunari. Several of them.
Only regiments of the Antaam and Tal-Vashosh travelled in those sorts of numbers. Sati couldn’t see from here which it might be. Neither was likely to treat her well. She’d never met another of her kind, apart from her parents and occasionally seeing lone workers at a distance, but she knew almost all Tal-Vashoth went mad with their freedom and attacked indiscriminately. And if ‘pure’ qunari saw her as Tal-Vashoth, they’d kill her on the spot. Or subject her to the brain-washing that was apparently so popular for easing problems with dissidents.
She could likely sneak around them without being detected. It wasn’t one of her strengths, but between the rain and the failing light, she might be able to pull it off. However, left to their own devices, they might wreck havoc along this road for months, maybe even kill. Ser Lehman, in this situation, would tell her to back away, find some authorities for reinforcement, then come back and deal with the situation sensibly. However, he would also never leave if he thought innocent people might suffer in the meantime.
A thread of pain that wound tight around her heart gave her another reason to stay. Better to die in a fight trying to prevent people being hurt in the future, than perish while protecting some crooked merchant from his competitors.
She rounded the corner in full view, Ruin drawn. The group of qunari were strangely attired, and none wore the red vitaar she knew was the staple of the Antaam. Tal-Vashoth, then. Sati steadied herself, ready to defect anything that came her way. “What is your purpose here?”
Sati hadn’t felt much in the last few weeks. After wallowing in the grief that had consumed her following Ser Lehman’s murder and her abrupt dismissal, she had shut her emotions behind a wall and tried as much as possible to keep them there. She’d wobbled a little when she had returned to her home village and found no trace of her parents. After a little questioning, she’d learned that rumours of a qunari raiding party gradually encroaching on the area had been spreading, and overnight they’d upped sticks and vanished. It was sensible. Her parents were Tal-Vashoth and as far from the brutish image that term inferred as it was possible to be - neither would have stood a chance against trained warriors, and they wouldn’t have been shown any mercy either. They’d left only a couple of months ago, but could have gone anywhere.
Thedas was vast. Sati had no idea where to even start looking. She put her feelings back behind the wall.
She’d visited home rarely since coming under Ser Lehman’s tutelage, and perhaps that had been a mistake. The people she remembered as children were now nearly adults themselves, and while a few had offered sympathy, most were clearly glad to see the back of her. She couldn’t blame them. It was a rare day that a sword-wielding qunari came as a welcome sight. She could have taken ownership of her old dwelling, but it just felt like a shell. All the personal touches that had made it a home were long since gone. The village headsman, Eidread Gelbraint, quietly suggested that she might try her luck with a mercenary company in a big city.
Once upon a time, she’d let herself dream of being a knight. She had the training, and some of the experience. Sati wasn’t naive; she knew that Ser Lehman had taken her on for the glory it gave him to have a qunari at his command, but she’d worked hard every day to prove that she was worthy of the chance. Now like any Tal-Vashosh, she was going to end up a sellsword. There was little else she knew how to do, except perhaps be a scribe, and who was going to hire her for that?
She fought the heavy weight in her chest. She would not shame her mentor’s memory by succumbing to despair, even though as each day went by, each step felt a little harder.
Fortunately, she at least had a few coins to her name. She had decided completely at random to head for Ansbury - there were always a few wealthy merchants there who needed bodyguards - and along the way she’d escorted a lord’s youngest son and his retinue. They’d parted ways at the man’s country estate, and now she might be able to afford a night in a tavern once she reached the city, before starting her search for work.
Unfortunately, it looked as though she would be sodden through by then. The sky had opened a little while ago and Sati was staggering a little in the mud, rain coursing down her face. The pathways leading to the city should be well defined further in but she was just far out enough that it was still mostly mud track, sucking at her boots with each step. She could have pulled off to the side and hidden under a tree, hoping to wait it out, but if she had her distances right Ansburg was only a few miles off. She could survive another couple of hours of this. It wasn’t as though sunshine would have made her feel any better anyway.
However, she wasn’t so numb that she missed a faint flash of light through the trees as she approached a bend in the path. It was definitely armour, and she slowed her pace, stepping carefully up to the trees and peering around the corner. Her breath caught in her throat.
Qunari. Several of them.
Only regiments of the Antaam and Tal-Vashosh travelled in those sorts of numbers. Sati couldn’t see from here which it might be. Neither was likely to treat her well. She’d never met another of her kind, apart from her parents and occasionally seeing lone workers at a distance, but she knew almost all Tal-Vashoth went mad with their freedom and attacked indiscriminately. And if ‘pure’ qunari saw her as Tal-Vashoth, they’d kill her on the spot. Or subject her to the brain-washing that was apparently so popular for easing problems with dissidents.
She could likely sneak around them without being detected. It wasn’t one of her strengths, but between the rain and the failing light, she might be able to pull it off. However, left to their own devices, they might wreck havoc along this road for months, maybe even kill. Ser Lehman, in this situation, would tell her to back away, find some authorities for reinforcement, then come back and deal with the situation sensibly. However, he would also never leave if he thought innocent people might suffer in the meantime.
A thread of pain that wound tight around her heart gave her another reason to stay. Better to die in a fight trying to prevent people being hurt in the future, than perish while protecting some crooked merchant from his competitors.
She rounded the corner in full view, Ruin drawn. The group of qunari were strangely attired, and none wore the red vitaar she knew was the staple of the Antaam. Tal-Vashoth, then. Sati steadied herself, ready to defect anything that came her way. “What is your purpose here?”