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Here on Unbound, our plot follows four different timelines, set throughout the canonical history of the Dragon Age. The events following Trespasser, the time of the Inquisition, the rise of the Champion of Kirkwall and the quest of the Warden against the Fifth Blight.

And So is the Golden City blackened
With each step you take in my Hall.
Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.
You have brought Sin to Heaven
And doom upon all the world.

-Threnodies 8.13

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 stuck in the middle, nolani, harvestmere 9:30
as played by DIANA

9" posts


Crisp and cool, the air cut directly through his thin clothes to his bones. A rock by the name of 'Resentment' nestled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, and for a while Alistair was certain he'd get sick.

A large rock outside had become his friend, after a point. It steadied him, became a stabilizing point to zero in on as his world swam around him. Loghain. Duncan. Ostagar. Lost. It was all lost -- he felt lost. The Blight was creeping upon them and now what? How many Wardens were killed in the fight, how many others were left with the task of combating the Archdemon?

So much about that battle was a mistake.

To let Duncan go on his own. To entrust the safety of the King and the fate of Ferelden - Thedas - in the hands of Loghain.

He was so angry with himself.

The other Warden was still unconscious - Nolani, was it? - but when he'd woken up he was given a watered down explanation of his situation. Ostagar was in ruins, the darkspawn were on the move, and everyone was dead. Everyone except the two of them, it had seemed. He'd wanted to walk away and face off with the darkspawn on his own, but he knew that wouldn't help anyone -- he'd wanted to go find Loghain and give the coward a piece of his mind, but he knew that he'd fail at that, too. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and the Blight was an unstoppable force hurtling in every which direction with no end in sight.

Whether he liked it or not he had a responsibility to uphold, a vow that he'd sworn when his own Joining had been a success.

But as he cast his eyes back towards the hut where the ornery witch of the wilds and Nolani were, he couldn't help but wonder if she were as serious. It hadn't seemed that way, what with the demeanor she'd had in the camp just before they ventured into the Wilds for the first time. However he had seen the look in her eyes when going for the vials of blood, and he had seen the vigor in which she fought back. He'd turned back to staring in the direction of Ostagar, his shoulders turned inward.

He didn't move again until hearing the sounds of a stirring behind him, to which he slowly turned around to find the offender.

"So you're up." Stating the obvious, he wasn't sure how else to address the situation at hand.
Jul 21 2017, 06:58 PM
as played by SQUEE

25" posts


She never heard “soft” used as a term in her direction, in any positive connotation.

Soft was a term for a person of stealth. She was hardly even a novice at discretion as she shoved her few belongings into the couple of pouches she had on hand. Her leather armor pieces creaked with strain and effort at her executive movements, and some more when she shouldered her shield and checked her sword before securing it in its sheath.

She walked out the door to find Alistair was out there. Originally staring into the distance, such that Nolani checked his line of sight for sanity’s sake, he redirected his attention to her.

There was nothing wrong with Alistair, besides the fact he was a shem and she didn't understand all of his jokes. He fought well enough and had a sense of duty, and Nolani could respect that. He was not a happy man in this moment, probably deeply wounded by Loghain’s betrayal and loss of the Wardens, and Nolani couldn't give a shit.

Soft was about using soothing tones of voice to people who had undergone tremendous loss. The firm setting of her lips and lowered plain of her brow settling over dark, glaring eyes gave hint there would be no gentle words to be found in her.

“I am,” was her disgruntled reply to Alistair. She felt like an apple bruised on one side and numb down her left arm. Nolani looked like that ogre had ground her between meaty fists.

She took a moment to assess the sky and determine an accurate sense of direction and chart a vague path back to the Dalish. The darkspawn were on the move, and she had been resting for days, more unconscious than conscious, and if she was going to reach her clan before the darkspawn she needed to get walking.

Soft was also about collapsing in a puddle of tears when the grief and the circumstances were severe and unbearable. Her elven-made back was perfect and rod straight, and her shoulders squared beneath her burden. Fury was the only element found here, under her skin and stoking her heart into beating.

“And I’m leaving.” Simple truth. Delivered with finality, albeit exhausted finality. With the tact of a bull walking amongst fragile artifacts, Nolani shifted away and started walking.

There was not an ounce of softness to be discovered in Nolani.

She had liked Alistair enough, however, and perhaps he deserved a blessing or a better goodbye. “Mala suledin nadas.”

Perhaps half an ounce of softness.


Mala suledin nadas -Now you must endure.
Oct 26 2017, 09:56 PM
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