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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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as played by sugar

8" posts


17 Cloudreach 9:41

There was nothing worse than a lost sense of purpose. He'd already experienced it once before, when he'd been jailed for treason after what his father had done. His father, who Nathaniel Howe was a damn spitting image of, right down to the protruding nose and sharp grey eyes. It was an impossible resemblance to escape from, even now, when he had been wearing the warden crest for the better part of ten years. Amaranthine was rebuilt and the blights were finished. The wardens just didn't have a purpose anymore, save for the occasional need for cleanup duty through a deep roads expedition. Months in darkness, just hacking away at the occasional darkspawn that didn't truly pose as a threat: it just gave them something to do.

So as he was in the middle of a few posts for a supply run, he'd taken a detour, loping off to an undisclosed tavern well off of his designated route. What Alistair didn't know wouldn't kill him. He'd supposed that they'd become begrudging friends after all of this; though he certainly missed the days when Mahariel was around. She'd had a fierce outlook on the world and what needed to be done with it: a trait that Nathaniel couldn't seem to pick back up in her absence.

Shoulders slouched as he leaned his elbows on the bar and stared into the bottom of his mug. The ale here was watered down piss, more or less, but it would still get the job done. It'd make him forget, if even for a few hours, that he was going nowhere fast: save for the expiration date that every single warden had. Another ten years, maybe?

Then he'd be nothing more than ash and dust.

Ten years, and it felt like he'd done absolutely nothing yet with his life to make that big of a difference, even if it wasn't entirely true.

By the time that he vaulted awkwardly back onto his horse, Nate was riding a pleasant buzz and slowly made his way back to the main path to the neighboring settlement in the Free Marches where he'd pick up the lyrium and herbs.

What appeared to be an isolated forest fire, a few miles up the road, caught his attention. Eyes narrowed as he honed in on the stream of smoke rising from the trees. With urgency, he clicked his tongue three times and dug his heels into the animal's sidesso the horse lunged fowards towards the fire; ears flat back against its head due to the smell of smoke. He wouldn't have jumped into action, but there seemed to be shouts coming from the same area. Magic gotten out of hand? A simple accident in the woods, with how dry it had been out here lately? Demons from fade rifts? It could have been anything, but it was Nathaniel's duty to defend civilians from Darkspawn or any other non-political threat.

As he got closer, he reined in his horse upon seeing the crests upon the shields of those near the fire. Squinting, he raised one hand against the heat of the flames that continued to be thrown towards them, from what looked like perhaps the shoddiest cottage Nathaniel'd ever seen. Impatiently, he jumped down from his horse when it refused to move any closer to the fire.

"Greetings, Ser Warden," one of the Templars nodded towards him, and took an aggressive step backwards as another fireball landed near his feet.

"What seems to be the issue here?" Nathaniel wasn't a stranger to the mage-Templar war, but it didn't mean he agreed with it. Intervening wasn't really his place, but he had to be sure, first...

"We've been tracking this fugitive for weeks, Ser. The one who started it all. Back in Kirkwall. Finally got him, but he's proven to be a little difficult. Already killed one of our men. Up there." The Templar pointed to what was left of a body, all soot and bone.

"You're not serious," Nate said, mostly to himself. Anger flared up first of all, above anything else. He'd not heard from Anders since that time they met in the Deep Roads, and it was just... awkward, then. He had no interest in hanging around to witness whatever was going on between him and the Champion. Anders had clearly moved on, so Nate should have, too.

Should have.

"Quite so," The Templar said, but Nate was hardly listening. He was already stringing up his bow, and then extended his hand, opening and closing his fingers rapidly.

"Get me a bloody quill and parchment." He didn't see who pushed the material into his hands, but he laid the thick piece of burlap (it'd have to do) over his arm and scribbled a note on it.


His fireballs had gotten bigger, after all, but that was hardly a reason to use them and try to burn a whole other segment of the world down to the ground.

After he'd secured the note to the arrow, he raised his dominant hand's knuckles to his lips and aimed through the window that wasn't yet broken, just so it wouldn't be incinerated upon entry. An exhale of breath, and then his arrow sprang free and sailed into the glass, shattering it effectively as it landed on the other side.

"What are you...." Nate shook his head, not wanting to listen to them. Whatever their business here was was over now.

"He's one of mine. I'll take care of it from here." He was hoping they'd listen and let it go.

Nate nor Anders would be so lucky.
Oct 21 2017, 08:05 AM
as played by Angel

34" posts


They'd been trailing him for days. Bloody stubborn lot. He clearly hadn't killed enough of them. Anders shook his head rapidly back and forth at that thought, releasing a harsh breath. He had neither mentally nor physically healed from the trauma they had tried to inflict on him. He'd told them no. It would be better to kill him than try that, but they'd ignored him. Took his pleas as a means to save himself when in all honesty he was attempting to stave off any more bloodshed. They had realized their mistake too late. When more mangled bodies littered their floors, blood running into the already red stained streets. And then he was running. Even more a fugitive than he had been before.

Exhausted. Hurt. Scared. Everything that made a mage dangerous and more. Anders first instinct had been to run once he'd realized the Templars had regrouped and were on his tail. The second instinct had been to turn and fight. Luckily the first had won out until he physically couldn't run anymore. It was only Justice's influence that kept him on his feet now. Holed up in a pitiful little cottage that barely offered shelter from the elements much less a group of angry Templars. Still, it gave him some sort of advantage, after all they couldn't get close to him to do much damage.

Anders' strength was waning, however. The fire balls, while bigger and obviously more powerful, were beginning to become further and further apart. That worried Anders more than if the Templars had actually managed to get inside the cottage. If his mage failed, he'd be vulnerable, and it never ended well when he became vulnerable. The taste of blood seemed to linger in his mouth now, no matter how much he attempted to purge it from his body.

Pacing the small confines of the cottage, Anders let out a slow, shaking breath. His hands trembled at his side, and he grit his teeth as he attempted to try and quell his nerves as much as he could. The mage made sure to keep to the shadows, avoiding the windows as much as he could except for when he threw another fire ball in the Templars' directions. They were meant as a warning, but if they were to get caught by it he wouldn't shed any tears.

The sound of a window shattering caused Anders' head to snap around and he stared at the arrow that embedded in the floor. His eyes narrowed, and he moved forward crouching down to avoid the window as best he could. In one quick movement he tore the sack free, holding it up to look at it. The words carefully etched into the cloth caused his throat to constrict. He knew that handwriting.

The last time he had seen Nathaniel their meeting had been...less than savory. In all honesty he had never expected to see the warden again, and meeting him under such circumstances had been difficult. Especially with Hawke there. Thinking of the other mage caused him to involuntarily hiss, baring his teeth. He didn't know whether to be hurt or angry that Hawke had done what he had. Either way, it didn't really matter at the present time.

Anders stood up, inching his way over to the window to peer out. His eyes narrowed, and cleared his throat before calling out.

"Maybe if my new friends would take their leave, I may consider it."
Oct 21 2017, 06:21 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts


He wasn’t serious.
He couldn’t be serious.
Oh, but he was.

It didn’t matter that Nate couldn’t match the face with the voice that had said it—it was still the same old Anders, despite everything that the mage had been through, and what he’d put everyone else through. Still just had this self-centered right to his own freedom, no matter how many others’ he was jeopardizing. Stupid mage. Nate tried to brush off the anger as best as he could, but he could feel it in the form of a vein on his temple, and quite certainly, if it had been the slightest bit nippy outside, his anger would rise as a visceral form skywards in a steady flow of steam.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

It went without saying that Nathaniel would prefer for minimal altercation between Anders and those Templars, but for him to demand it outright? He had half a mind to just leave him there, get back on his fire-shy horse and head back the distance to the supply checkpoint and forget all about this.

Exasperated and seeing red, he turned his back to the window to face the Templars, shoulders squaring in an attempt to address the situation with as much authority as he could manage. ”I understand you were tasked to retrieve him, but I must intervene. He is a member of the Grey Wardens and I must return him to his post. He is not yours to take. Do I make myself clear?” A narrowed gaze around the group made it clear that he did not. Alternatively, they just didn’t care.

The Templar that had spoken before stepped forwards; the assumed leader of the group. ”Y’see, I’d tell you to speak to my commander about that, but your Grey Warden apostate killed him. That’s him, lying there.” An almost lazy gesture towards the charred bones that Nate had spotted before.

Oh, lovely.

”So, Ser Warden, I’d advise you to move out of our way, because we’re takin’ ‘im back to the Chantry.”

Nate rose an arm to stop him, and then thought better of it. Any attack on his part would do nothing but lose that arm—or worse. He was far too outnumbered to attempt to take that group on his own. Some outside help would be necessary—and he didn’t mean Anders.

Tiredly, he stood back with a smirk rising to his features, despite his previous anger. This would just be too good. Not that he had anything against Templars in particular, but anyone who was rude to him, openly, as that one had been? He’d deserve what he got. A temper was just one of many traits he’d picked up from his father, and worn with pride.

”I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Nate told them a bit snidely; of course it went ignored.

The pros and cons had already been weighed. Either Anders was getting out, or he wasn’t, and Nate wasn’t going to allow the latter. If only because he had unfinished business with him. To think, he’d spoken to him not long at all before it’d happened. The plan had likely already been in motion when they’d spoken, if only Nate had known

But that was neither here nor there. He had to see for himself, or he wouldn’t have allowed Anders to be in a situation with… their friend… to break free. Anders had told him the situation in the deep roads, but he needed to know the truth. That being, he’d had just as much of a hand in the apostate’s demise as Anders had.

The heavy clink of metal as steel slid against the sheaths of the Templar’s swords made him close his eyes, but he kept one hand on his bow all the same, with the faint hope that it was all a lie.
Perhaps, Anders would just stay… Anders.

Perhaps, Nathaniel’s lifespan wouldn’t have a clock that ticked five times as fast as anyone else’s.
Oct 21 2017, 07:07 PM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders found himself rolling his eyes as Nathaniel spoke to the Templars. Oh yes,
because asking them nicely to leave would sure work. Why hadn't he thought about that? Of course, a small part of him hoped that Nathaniel's words would convince the Templars to leave. After all, Warden's did have jurisdiction over their own. He could tell in the way the Templars shifted their stance that that wouldn't be the case. So much for hopeful thinking.

The corner of his lips curved downwards as he watched Nathaniel. Why was he just standing there? Not that the archer wasn't capable of taking care of himself, but that was it. He was an archer. His strength was from afar, not in close quartered combat--especially with Templars. A hiss left his lips, and he hadn't even realized that his hand had rose to dig into the frame of the window. The wood splintered under his grasp, piercing his skin with it's sharp edges.

The scrape of metal sounded so loud to his ears even though he was aware that it was most definitely not--not from this distance at least. Anders' breath came out ragged as he stumbled backwards away from the window. A storm of emotions clashed inside him and he struggled to think clearly. He wouldn't--couldn't--let them hurt Nathaniel. No matter what had changed--what he had done--there was still something there.

There was a few moments of silence before the door to the cottage opened slowly, the hinges squeaking loudly. Fingers curled around the frame of the door, nails biting into the wood to create gashes as Anders pulled himself into the open. An inhuman snarl tore past his lips, and wisps of blue light curled from his skin as cracks appeared in his flesh as if the Fade itself was trying to crawl out of his body.

The Templars reacted instantly, forgetting about the Warden that opposed them and instead focusing on the new threat that presented itself. Anders didn't move from his spot, even as the Templars surrounded him. A blade came down, but the mage didn’t move, merely snapped his hand out with inhuman speed to catch the blade in his hand. His blood ran down his hand, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

Anders moved suddenly, darting forward to catch the Templar’s wrist. The sound of bone crunching, and the groan of metal as it buckled under the pressure filled the room. The mage twisted, throwing the Templar over his shoulder with strength that no mage—except a Force Mage—should be able to possess. One lunged forward, and Anders dodged. His arm snapped out, his hand cutting right through the Templar’s throat. The Templar's head landed with thud against the ground, followed by his body.
Oct 21 2017, 08:49 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts



As it so happened, all Anders needed was the imminent threat of death—to him or to Nathaniel, because it had remained rather ambiguous—to bust out what he’d been looking for. When he looked up at what was left of Anders, it was hard to believe that it was the same person. It was horrifying in its own right; the eerie blue light forcing its way out of Anders body as someone else—no, something else took control of him. He was frozen on the spot, and it didn’t rightly matter, because no one was focused on Nathaniel.

Everything happened so quickly that he could hardly process it—Justice—Anders took out two of the Templars within a matter of thirty seconds and he couldn’t erase the image of his hand just going straight through the Templar’s neck. His head dropped with a thud to the ground and Nate watched it as it rolled to a stop, still frozen on the spot. This was going to end one way or the other, so he supposed it would just be easier to do it quickly.

He didn’t know a damned thing about what Justice was capable of—if he got stronger with every kill, which in turn would make it harder to have Anders come back to himself—so Nathaniel just moved. It went against most everything that he stood for with his allegiance to the wardens, but everything was happening to quickly to determine another solution. He wasn’t the best with daggers, but it seemed to be the most applicable tools for success in this scenario. The remaining Templars had forgotten about him, more or less, which made it easy to jump the first one and find the weak spot in the armor underneath the helmet. He jabbed upwards with his knife, hot blood seeping out onto his knuckles as he did so. Gritting his teeth, he prepared himself for the backlash of the other Templars after this one’s gurgling, and he shoved the body of the one he had within his grasp into the one that turned on him.

The distraction allowed for Nathaniel to gain the upper hand and he strung up his bow, quickly, not taking the usual time to aim since he was so close to the fallen Templar and shot an arrow neatly in another weak spot. It was just an archer’s job to know these things that other types of weapon wouldn’t think of. One shot to the right spot could make or break a victory. There was only one left, now, and Nathaniel stopped giving a damn right about then, dropping his bow and lunging forward with the bloody dagger, using his sheer weight alone to send the Templar flying off balance. Squatting over him, thighs closed around the metal sides of his latest victim, Nate yanked the helmet off of the Templar and gave him a merciful death, a quick snap of his neck.

Staying put for a moment, he exhaled heavily, catching his breath in the moments to follow. His expression remained guarded and heavy as he stared at Not-Anders, and figured now was as good a time to speak as any. ”Anders, if you’re in there… just know you’re a bloody bastard.”
Oct 21 2017, 10:08 PM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders turned, spitting blood and flesh from his mouth. The mage’s clothes, skin, and hair were coated in blood, and blood trickled from his mouth. The mage reached up after a moment, hand wrapping around the hilt of a dagger stuck in his side. He pulled it out without flinching, letting it fall to the ground. The obvious wounds to his person didn't seem to bother him at all, as if the blood that trickled from his side was nothing but a minor inconvenience.

The apostate was silent, staring at Nathaniel with eerie glowing eyes. His lip curled up in a silent snarl as the archer spoke. He took a step forward before his body went rigid, both hands clawing at his head. A gasp left his lips a moment later, knees buckling to fall to the ground. He barely caught himself on the ground, trembling as he took a few moments to collect himself. The mage lurched suddenly, bile, blood, and flesh spewing from his mouth to mix with the blood and limbs that littered the ground.

"Why didn't you bloody move?" Anders snapped after a moment, his words trembling. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand against his mouth only to grimace and spit once he realized that did nothing but coat his lips with more blood. He looked pale, and he intentionally made sure that his gaze stayed on Nathaniel. He didn't want to look at what he'd done, even for the sake of protecting Nathaniel.

"Fuck. Anders hissed, wincing as he raised a hand to press against the wound in his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, and he raised his head to stare up at the sky. He released a harsh breath, trying to focus on calling forth his healing magic, but it didn't want to come at the moment. Fine, whatever, he'd endured worse things than this, and eventually his magic would replenish enough that he would be able to seal the wound.

Once Anders turned his attention back towards Nathaniel the mage just looked tired. He was tired of what he'd become, tired of what he did, and most of all he was tired of the people he loved looking at him like that. He deserved it he knew, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Releasing a breath, he began to push himself to his feet, stumbling slightly.

"You can keep your insults to yourself, I don't want to hear them right now."
Oct 21 2017, 10:36 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts


It was both fear and fascination that kept Nate’s eyes on Anders’ movements, the not-so-graceful pull of the dagger out of his side that likely would have felled a lesser man—or at least a man who wasn’t able to instantly heal himself due to his abilities and chosen trade. But he didn’t do anything, because it wasn’t Anders. Not yet. Nathaniel took a step back with a raised eyebrow from the dramatics that followed as the transition completed from that spirit of Justice—

Vengeance, whatever—back to the host body. A necessary turn of his head away from the violent spewing of contents from Anders’ stomach upon the change, and he had to admit that he was surprised how quickly he bounced back with attitude. Same old Anders, despite what had just happened. But after all of that? He wasn’t really in the mood to argue. So Nathaniel didn’t say anything at all, just kept his eyes to the ground, still trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed. It wasn’t a joke, Justice was real, his friend was affected by a very real threat and it was his fucking fault.

His throat grew dry and he wasn’t able to speak for a moment. Seeing as Anders was nothing more than a pathetic, bleeding mess on the ground who apparently had a lack of magic on his side at the moment, Nate swept into action, closing the distance between the two of them and stepping on the hem of Anders’ robes for leverage. ”Don’t move,” he muttered, ripping the edge of the fabric from the seam until it tore a long enough strip that he’d be able to wrap around Anders’ middle. If the mage wanted to complain about another tatter to be added to his already tattered robes, then that was on him. Nathaniel couldn’t very well make something worse that was already fucked beyond repair.

”Just be quiet.” Nathaniel shot back with some irritation at the mage’s insistence to continue talking, and he focused his attention to the blood flow from the dagger that Justice had unceremoniously ripped out with no means to actually staunch that flow. Nate reached around Ander’s chest and pulled the robe strip he’d torn off tight around his middle, tying a knot directly above the wound to cut off circulation to it.

Reaching into his quiver, he removed two arrows and set them up into a “T” formation, rubbing them against each other that would build up a flame after about a minute’s worth of rigorous heat between his palms and that wood. ”Up to you, but if you don’t make your magic work before I’m done here, I’m cauterizing that my way.” He smiled, mostly to himself, dropping his head so the upward quirk of his lips was lost beneath his nose and hair falling into his eyes as he worked at the wood.
Nov 21 2017, 10:57 AM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders groaned as Nathaniel reached around him, tightly pulling the strip of cloth before tying it. He'd complain about the destruction of his clothes later when he wasn't bleeding out. He let out a breath, turning his head slightly to look at the archer, and he swallowed hard at how close Nathaniel was to him. It might have appeared that he'd moved on from the archer, that their nights spent together was nothing but a fleeting memory in his mind, but that was far from the truth.

Clearing his throat, Anders turned his head away the moment Nathaniel sat back, pulling arrows out of his quiver. He knew that no matter what they once had, it was tainted and broken beyond repair now. The moment he'd ran away without a word, leaving everyone to believe he was dead was when it had cracked. He had no one to blame but himself really, but that didn't keep his chest from aching.

"Don't you bloody dare," Anders spoke, his head snapping around to glare at Nathaniel. He released a haggard breath, dropping his head to stare at the ground. He tried to ignore the blood that ran over the dirt and leaves, closing his eyes. He knew very well that Nathaniel meant what he said. If he didn't get his bloody magic to working the archer wouldn't hesitate to cauterize the wound with the fire he was creating.

"Just....give me a minute." Hopefully that was all it would take. Concentrating, Anders reached out, gently poking at the veil that was made thin by Justice emerging. He was expecting the warmth of his magic to flood him, and all he got was the cold feeling in his gut as his magic refused to come. Damn it, of course. He needed more time to rest before he could do anything and Nathaniel wasn't going to give him that time.

A disgusted breath left his lips, and he sat back, wincing as he wrapped an arm around his side. Anders didn't need to see Nathaniel's face to know the bastard was no doubt smiling. Bloody git was getting satisfaction out of this.

"You are taking too much satisfaction out of this. But fine...just get it over with...don't be surprised if I punch you." And complain for the next several days... Not that it would be the worst thing in the world, he'd certainly had worse than a wound being cauterized, in fact, it wouldn't be the first time he'd had a wound cauterized.
Nov 21 2017, 12:08 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts


Truly, he'd thought the goading would work. It was almost funny, to think that the same man who had just wiped an entire group of Templars off of Thedas couldn't even muster enough strength to heal his own wound, now. Since Anders agreed to be helped the normal way, Nathaniel pulled one of his unused arrows out of the quiver and held the blunt end of it into the flame. It was the best he could do in lieu of something metallic.

"Hold still. If you get your magic back and you use it on me, I swear to the Maker I will leave you here to rot." Nate muttered under his breath, not loud enough to be taken as a serious threat. Once the piece of wood started to turn black, he pulled it back from the flame and extinguished it with a short burst of air from his lips. One hand braced against Anders' near shoulder, and then he thought better of it and reached for another arrow, extending it to Anders' mouth so he could bite down on it.

It was going to hurt like Hell—half the reason that Nathaniel was going out of his way to do it. Nate rolled the scalding arrow end across the wound, making sure the heat touched all parts of it to burn out any potential infection from the knife. Anders could have done it himself in fifteen minutes or so, but the truth was, Nate wanted him to hurt.

Anders had thrown any semblance of a life he had away, and for what? The entire living population either living in awed fear of what he'd done, wanting to join up with him and wind up dead themselves, or the other half of the extremes who would see him hang for starting the war.

Nate just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he'd actually gone and done it. It was true, that Anders never shut up about a lot of things, back then, but that was all it had been. Just talk.

He gave the mage a moment to recover from the sudden burn before moving on. "This wasn't where you live, was it?" Nate wondered aloud, staring at the fairly beat up cabin. "If you need time to get your things in order, that's fine, but you're coming back with me to Amaranthine." He stared at Anders, grey eyes cold as ice. He didn't want an apology, he didn't want an explanation.

Just for Anders to get his shit together so they could try to move forwards from what he'd done. There would be people within the Wardens who would hate him, surely, but it would be better than him living out here... if it could even be called living because he looked like a ghost of the man that he'd once been. Once robust and always smiling, and now he was gaunt in nature, angular cheekbones hollow, and there wasn't a hint of a smile.

"But we'd best get a move on, lest my cat dies before you can see him again." The comment was meant to be scathing. He hadn't wanted Pounce, but it'd begrudgingly become his responsibility, after Anders had simply fled without a word, to anyone.

Nate wasn't ready to just let that go, just as he hadn't been in the Deep Roads.
Dec 25 2017, 06:26 PM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders' heart beat rapidly in his chest, loud enough that he swore Nathaniel could hear it. This was a stupid idea, a really stupid idea. He should have just waited to--Anders swallowed as Nathaniel held the arrow out towards him, and he was sure he gave the archer a pathetic look before taking the arrow into his mouth. His lips brushed against Nathaniel's fingers briefly, and he his breath hitched slightly as his eyes fluttered up to look at Nathaniel.

A softness fell over the mage's features, but it only stayed briefly. A snarl left his lips, muffled by the arrow in his mouth, and his fingers curled into the dirt beneath him. Tears pricked at his eyes, and try as he might a few managed to stray down his cheeks, cutting a path through the dirt and blood that coated his skin. His breathing was harsh and erratic, his knuckles pale as he dug into the ground.

Anders felt light headed, even when the heat was brought away from his skin, and his breathing didn't slow. Slowly, he pushed the arrow out of his mouth, the wood gouged by his teeth. He released a harsh breath, brow creasing in confusion as Nathaniel spoke to him. He looked up briefly, staring at the shoddy shack. Place where he...? Anders shook his head, gasping softly.

"," Anders' mouth snapped shut, and his head jerked around to look at Nathaniel. The pain was suddenly forgotten and he wasn't quite certain if he'd actually heard the archer correctly. "What? No I can't..." The mage fell silent again. He knew that look. It was a look that meant that he better not argue. On one hand, if he returned to the wardens, the templars could no longer touch him. But what about the warden's themselves? Not only had he ran, but he had also killed their members.

" don't," Anders sighed, raising a hand to run a hand through his hair. He winced, before pushing himself up to stand and he turned to look at Nathaniel. He swallowed, looking away with a faint smile at the mention of his cat. It actually made him happy knowing that his fuzzball was still alive and presumably doing well.

"I don't have anything," Anders finally conceded. He turned his attention back to Nathaniel and shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't as if he had had time to stop and gather things before he left. It was sudden...and violent, and something he'd rather not think about.
Dec 25 2017, 07:49 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts


"You can and you will," Nate wasted no time in shutting down Anders' response that he had expected, completely. He didn't know what the mage was getting at, and he wasn't sure that he had the capacity to care at the current time, so he let him talk, words coming out like runoff water but going nowhere important. But after a moment, he grew tired of it, and spoke out, quite uncharacteristically. "You can't what? You don't what?" It was bullshit, really, the way that he was so willing to write off his own future.

Perhaps he should have just left him out there for the Templars, and Justice would take over entirely, and Nate wouldn't have anything to worry about anymore.

For whatever reason, he couldn't imagine himself leaving him, despite how Anders had done. No scenario Nate could concoct up even came close to how bad that one had been.

"You know, I really just don't think I understand you." Nate said rather tersely, jaw taut as he stared the other man down, ignoring his weakened state, ignoring the increase in his heart rate, which pounded in his ears the second he tried to brush it off. "It's just so easy for you, isn't it? How many times are you going to be able to just throw everything away, Anders? You have shit going for you, I mean, you had it, and you just manage to fuck it up, more than once."

He was just... fucking impossible. Perhaps he'd always been, but Nate had just elected to ignore it, before.

A long, heavy sigh left him and he ran his dominant hand through his hair, thumbing through the black tresses, pulling free any knots on his way to the ends. He turned on his heel and walked away, back up the slight incline in the terrain to where he'd left his horse; the animal had wandered off quite a bit after all of the commotion.

It took a minute or so to return to the clearing, and he gained the slightest amount of satisfaction that Anders may have assumed he was just leaving, without him.

He wisened up after a moment. "You should ride. When we get to another town I can get another one." He was certainly going to blow off his outburst as if it hadn't happened, becuase that wasn't him, not anymore.

Anders shouldn't have had any pull on Nate, and yet, here he was, offering him his fucking horse because he was hurt.

Letting sleeping dogs lie was easier said than done. He just wished, stoic as he was, that he'd have more sense than to try and follow an unchained spirit, one that remained as unpredictable as the quality of ale in the local bar.

Anders would always be consistent in his unpredictability. It was just Nate who refused to move with him. But how was he meant to do the impossible ? Running after him, he could do, but trying to catch wildfire in his bare hands was a pipe dream.
Dec 25 2017, 11:06 PM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders hated the fact that he seemed to be fumbling over his words. Maybe it was because he had never expected to see Nathaniel again, not after the Deeproads. He'd known that the man would be furious at him, and yet he still felt caught off guard. It was stupid, this whole thing was stupid, and more importantly he was stupid.

Anger snapped in his eyes, and he ground his teeth together as Nathaniel ranted at him. Was it easy? Was it easy? No it wasn't easy. It fucking sucked. Everything about this sucked and he didn't even know how to explain how much it sucked. He had had everything. He'd finally gotten away from the Circle without any fear of going back. Nolani was strange but she at least looked at him as a person and not just a mage--albeit a bit of a strange person. And despite all of that he'd had Nathaniel.

One stupid, reckless decision later and he was now an abomination on the run. His second chance at something, had ended with him being a murder of the highest degree and a magical noose around his throat. Hawke was...Hawke was--Anders couldn't think about the other mage right now. Not with Nathaniel so close and not with the burning anger he felt.

Before he could actually speak on any of the points his mind had supplied, Nathaniel had stormed off. Fine. Let the bloody bastard wander off. Hopefully he'd get eaten by a bear. Anders released a breath, pressing his hand to his forehead to rub at his temple. He looked up at the sound of hooves coming close, and he narrowed his eyes at the rogue.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Anders snapped. "You tear into me and then come back all oh you're hurt so you should ride on the bloody horse? Bite me, Nathaniel."

The mage exhaled harshly, turning away from the rogue to head off in the opposite direction. He'd only taken a few steps before he stopped, fingers curling into fists at his side. He ground his teeth together, causing pain to shoot through his jaw, but it was a welcomed pain to mask the pain in his chest.
Dec 25 2017, 11:41 PM
as played by sugar

8" posts


There was nothing to be done about the sour attitude that had been built up between the two of them, because it was truly a long time coming. There hadn't been enough time, there never was enough time. The situation hadn't changed any now, even though they were finally together, without an audience, but now Nate's throat stuck dry with anything else he would want to say.

So he opted for nothing at all.

Waiting out Anders' explosive outburst, Nate looked away, jaw pulsing and his arms folding with the reins still in hand from the horse on his right. He truly couldn't help himself to keep on with the bickering, even though it wasn't the most mature of responses; Maker, it was like it was ten years ago again and they'd just met, the mage determined to press every single one of his buttons until he instead learned to undo them—

"Well," Nate spoke in a mockingly confident tone, pushing the thought aside, "I wouldn't have offered if you weren't such a useless mage. Weren't so helpless a few minutes ago, were you? Killing Templars and blowing up their place of practice, but not much else. You really haven't changed much at all, have you?" Ice cold eyes glowered across to the hazel ones that burned with equal intensity. Perhaps he was trying to start a fight. At least this time, it'd be fair and square, basing on the fact that for a short while, Anders would be shit out of luck in regards to using magic.

At least, that was what Nathaniel was banking on.

"So yes, I'll offer you the horse, since I doubt you can even walk, and I don't need you demoning out again in case more Templars show up. There's only so much I can do for you by saying that you're within my jurisdiction..." It was the truth. Sure, Grey Wardens took precedence over the law, but what did it matter when the Grey Warden in question hadn't cared for said laws?

"...and you're coming back with me to Amaranthine, whether you like it or not. So I suggest you get on and shut up." Nate thrust the leather loop of the reins forwards for Anders to take, gaze shifting wearily to their surroundings.

Anders—Justice, whomever—they'd both made a lot of noise, and he doubted it'd be very long before others would come onto the scene, Templars or otherwise. Neither one of them needed the publicity. Nate's title of Lieutenant-Commander brought him some recognition, and to be seen at a massacre of Templars with the one who'd started the war... well.

It wouldn't exactly count as staying uninvolved with political issues of Thedas.
Jan 15 2018, 04:31 PM
as played by Angel

34" posts


Anders grit his teeth, the sound of them grinding together echoing in his ears. He kept his back turned towards Nathaniel, refusing to let the other man see the emotion that was playing across his features. He hated this fighting between them. Yes, they had always bickered. Anders had always tried to figure out how to get under the rogue's skin. It was fun, especially when he got to make up for it later. When he could have the same confident and composed man come undone under his fingertips. But this? This went beyond any thing they'd done in the past and he hated it. Because it was his fault...

You haven't changed much at all...

Anders bristled at those words, his shoulders hunching up before he slowly turned towards the rogue. He moved forward towards Nathaniel, fingers curling at his side. He was aware of the fact that Nathaniel was still talking, but he wasn't focused on the words that were coming out of his mouth. As soon as he was close enough, he drew his fist back and punch Nathaniel in the jaw. He was certain his hand felt more pain than the rogue did and he cursed as he shook his hand, turning to angrily swipe the reigns out of Nathaniel's hands.

"Yes, Nathaniel, I did change." Anders snapped before he pulled himself onto the horses back. The wind was knocked out of him because of the strain pulling himself up put on his side, and he leaned forward against the horses neck for a moment to collect himself. Once he was sure he could breathe at least semi-normally, Anders sat back up in a sitting position. For now, he'd at least humor the rogue until the risk of him falling over was at a minimal.

"Are you getting on the bloody horse or not? It'll be faster than you walking and it isn't like you haven't been pressed up behind me before." The words were out before he could stop them and he released a huff of a breath as he turned his head away. Anders could feel his cheeks heating and knew they were probably red and god damn it. .

"Just....get on the horse so we can get away from here." Nathaniel wasn't the only one that was aware of the fact that the noise could have drawn attention and even if it didn't it wouldn't be long before the scavengers of the animal world alerted people of the carnage here.

Jan 15 2018, 05:36 PM
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