As Above, So Below is a play-by-post RPG based on the Dragon Age series of video games. Play takes place during the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition as our characters navigate cutthroat politics, tumultuous relationships, and the looming threat of a sky torn asunder. Set in a world of dark fantasy, we explore mature topics while crafting thoughtful and compelling plots focusing on OC stories with minimal canon involvement. We're an advanced RP for those who are comfortable with creative writing. 18+, 3/2/2, Faceclaims optional.
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oh you wear your facade so well, covered up in your plastic shell.
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Post by Molmana'Gaval Radavur on Sept 2, 2018 19:14:29 GMT -5
The village of Haven was a small one, a sleepy hollow in which had seldom been touched before the call to arms rang throughout all of Thedas; the hustle and bustle seemed foreign, strange and unwelcome in the tentative stares of the denizens who called the village home. From the commotion stepped bare, muddied feet through the open gates, an interloper who felt as if she did not belong despite knowing that it was she who represented her entire Clan. Some Clan... her bitter, irritable thoughts rang, pervading her already anxious mind and causing her to flinch at wisps of fears that could not be assuaged. Was it because she felt she could not live up to their expectations? Or perhaps because she didn't wish such expectations pushed upon her simply because magic coursed through her veins. Whatever the case, it put an irate expression upon her pale, freckled cheeks which were already ruddy from the still, bitter air.
The sky swirled above, bathed in a multitude of greys only drowned out by the presence of softly, ever falling snow. It indeed was not a weather that the Otter was accustomed to and even her cloak was not enough to cease the shivers that wracked her lithe body - shelter would be needed and thus the elf began to quietly survey her surroundings once more, searching for an area where there the traffic wasn't as heavy; then she saw it, a simple smithy that appeared seemingly empty.
Hefting the pack upon her back, the elf silently trudged through the muddied street until she felt the beckoning warmth of the forge which filled the small shop as she entered with a sigh of a relief. ❝Pardon,❞ her accented voice was curt and straight to the point before her eyes even deigned to look up at who she aimed her sharp words at. ❝I was simply seeking shelter, I do not wish to purchase anythi-...❞ and then her eyes met something - someone who she never thought she'd see again.. nor wanted to.
Post by Gaatlok Katari on Sept 2, 2018 19:44:18 GMT -5
The ringing of the bell was Gaatlok's only warning as an elf walked through his door, the snow outside having muffled their approach. Thankfully, just keeping the forge lit was more than enough to provide heat for the small shop, and Gaatlok had been working a bit on making it a bit more homely, carving out a stool and a few wedges to even out the surfaces of the workbenches.
"I'll be right with you just a moment, please," he spoke up from the backroom. He could barely make out the voice through the closing of the door, but it sounded feminine, almost familiar. Setting down his tools, Gaatlok turned the corner, checking the hidden spot where he'd laid his spear against the wall just in case. He wrang his hands with a spare cloth, cleaning them of some of the stain that he'd been using earlier. "Welcome to the Valo-Kas Smithy, how may I..." he looked up, seeing that face.
"I... um... yes, me, uh... right." he stammered over his words, cracked lips not helping in the slightest. "I'm no inn, you'd be better served just a little further down that way, but if its warmth you need you're welcome to a place by the forge. Kinda cramped, but you're... um.. welcome to stay a while..."
Gaatlok was confused; excited but confused. He couldn't help but wonder what she, of all people, was doing here, walking into a shop that he'd barely started getting up to par. He could ask the Maker about why here or even now, but here he was, left high and dry by the heat of the coals and the steel.
oh you wear your facade so well, covered up in your plastic shell.
4 posts
2 likes
Post by Molmana'Gaval Radavur on Sept 7, 2018 17:26:52 GMT -5
The heat of the forge was nothing compared to the warmth that stained her pale, freckled cheeks at the compulsive thought of what transpired between them. What is he doing here?! Her anxious mind screamed panicked as the Qunari's deep voice began to rumble nearly inaudible words through the disassociation of her struggling thoughts. ❝What are you doing here?❞ she blurted out, repeating her one reoccurring thought, cutting him off from whatever offer her mind refused to process. Why now, why at this time? She had left the mercenary company of which they had been a part of for the sole purpose of never seeing any of them again and yet...
❝No.❞ was her immediate hostile response once the dizziness of her disassociation wore off briefly and she processed the stammered offer, wrapping her arms protectively around her still shivering body - though no longer was she cold. The Otter was faintly surprised at his reaction, expecting something... else, but what - she could not say. It was a kind offer, a gesture from a massive creature who seemed to balk under her ire, why? It was through these thoughts that the elf's hackles lowered ever so slightly and the snarl that contorted her face had loosened. Perhaps, despite your encounter with him, you judged him too hastily. An inward growl met the conflicting thoughts as bare, muddied feet stepped further albeit tentatively into the ramshackle shop.
Post by Gaatlok Katari on Sept 8, 2018 5:49:47 GMT -5
Seeing that the elf was at least mostly comfortable, Gaatlok returned to his workbench, a hammer and chisel in hand as he set about carving the joiner for the stool. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the muddied feet on the elf, the wet and cold clothing clinging to her skin as her feet were starting to crack from the combination of the heat and the cold.
"You know, I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me buy you a decent pair of boots." he started, able to ignore the initial fluster by concentrating on his work. "But... you're accustomed to it, I suppose. I shouldn't intrude on your decisions."
With the hammering of the chisel Gaatlok finished with the crude joiner, and while he wasn't able to finish the stool properly, he wouldn't let his guest go without a proper seat. He would always be able to finish it at a later time. He put the seat together and set it on the ground next to his guest. "Please, take the time you need to rest." Gaatlok said as he went back to the workbench for his next project.
