warden robyn cousland (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heroica) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-01-21 10:51 am
heroica) wrote in entrancelogs2016-01-21 10:51 am
Entry tags:
( closed ) you've got the story all made up inside your head
Who: Warden Robyn Cousland and Commander Cullen Rutherford
Where: The first floor "armory"
When: Tuesday, January 19th
Rating: PG-13 for language (probably)
Summary: "You have to kill them all to be safe," he'd said. It was a decade ago for him and only months for her.
The Story:
[ There is a new room on the first floor.
Thankfully, the mansion has gone back to normal after its rainy, dangerous weekend in the woods. Though she'd herself insisted that she spend her first night in Wonderland out among the trees (to which the Inquisitor had objected), this 'event' had been almost fatal for the Warden. Robyn had gone out, thinking there was someone in need of help in the foreign forest, and almost wasted away at the base of one of the traitorous trunks. If the Courier hadn't found her-... but, he had, and she'd lived. Not everyone could say the same.
It's a relief to be out of the rain and the peril, then, because Wonderland's mansion is at least the devil she (thinks she) knows. Robyn lays a hand on the head of the dog at her side, removing it to swiftly braid it around her crown, when she hears the noise. Having been on her way to the kitchen, the Warden slows to a halt, peering curiously at a door she hadn't noticed before. Inside is, unmistakably, the sound of clanging metal, as if someone's stashed away weapons and armor within.
Have they finally built an armory? The brunette peers at Oren the mabari, who tilts his head in mirrored question. ]
Well, you aren't very much help. [ At the very least, she could take a look around as if there's anything to be had there that she couldn't get for herself from the closets. And it isn't someone's room, anyway, so it isn't as if she's just nicking other people's stuff. Because that never happens. So, briskly, the young Warden pushes open the door, glancing around, and the room is occupied.
Occupied by someone who probably should have locked the door, at least. It is an armory, to some degree, but there's also a man standing in the middle of it all stripped down to his breeches and moving to continue changing into, she guesses, some of the armor that's been strewn about. ]
Ah- Wait! [ Oren barks, as if trying to alert the stranger to not remove his pants, and trots over to the half-dressed man. Robyn, however, turns on her heel and shuts the door behind her with a snap. ]
Sweet Andraste. [ She sighs, exasperated, pressing her back to the door. Where do these people come from? ]
Where: The first floor "armory"
When: Tuesday, January 19th
Rating: PG-13 for language (probably)
Summary: "You have to kill them all to be safe," he'd said. It was a decade ago for him and only months for her.
The Story:
[ There is a new room on the first floor.
Thankfully, the mansion has gone back to normal after its rainy, dangerous weekend in the woods. Though she'd herself insisted that she spend her first night in Wonderland out among the trees (to which the Inquisitor had objected), this 'event' had been almost fatal for the Warden. Robyn had gone out, thinking there was someone in need of help in the foreign forest, and almost wasted away at the base of one of the traitorous trunks. If the Courier hadn't found her-... but, he had, and she'd lived. Not everyone could say the same.
It's a relief to be out of the rain and the peril, then, because Wonderland's mansion is at least the devil she (thinks she) knows. Robyn lays a hand on the head of the dog at her side, removing it to swiftly braid it around her crown, when she hears the noise. Having been on her way to the kitchen, the Warden slows to a halt, peering curiously at a door she hadn't noticed before. Inside is, unmistakably, the sound of clanging metal, as if someone's stashed away weapons and armor within.
Have they finally built an armory? The brunette peers at Oren the mabari, who tilts his head in mirrored question. ]
Well, you aren't very much help. [ At the very least, she could take a look around as if there's anything to be had there that she couldn't get for herself from the closets. And it isn't someone's room, anyway, so it isn't as if she's just nicking other people's stuff. Because that never happens. So, briskly, the young Warden pushes open the door, glancing around, and the room is occupied.
Occupied by someone who probably should have locked the door, at least. It is an armory, to some degree, but there's also a man standing in the middle of it all stripped down to his breeches and moving to continue changing into, she guesses, some of the armor that's been strewn about. ]
Ah- Wait! [ Oren barks, as if trying to alert the stranger to not remove his pants, and trots over to the half-dressed man. Robyn, however, turns on her heel and shuts the door behind her with a snap. ]
Sweet Andraste. [ She sighs, exasperated, pressing her back to the door. Where do these people come from? ]
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The woods lie behind him now, the constant downpour of rain replaced by a quiet blanket of snow. Did the demon bring him here? Gone is the tavern, replaced instead by a large mansion. Or was he rescued at the last moment? The restraints would cast doubt on the notion, but every breath he still draws gives it credibility. He advances towards the building with laboured steps.
When he finds the armory within-- It must be a blessing or a trick, but no trick could be worse than his odds as they are now, unarmed. He casts off the damp finery, and--
--flinches at the sound by the door. ]
He-- hello? Oh.
[ Instantly one of the swords is in his grasp, but the door closes as quickly as it's opened, some quiet sound still coming from it. Cullen hastily slips into a suit of armor with practiced motions, glancing at the mabari in the room ever so often. He calls out again, as soon as he is decent: ]
Hello?
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Hello? ... Ah. Yes, I-
[ Robyn peeks her head back inside, but only because he'd called out again once he'd dressed, and (mostly) because she needs to retrieve the dog. The Warden opens her mouth to speak and apologize, but she stop short mid-sentence, eyes widening in mild recognition. ]
You! [ She exclaims, more surprised than anything else. ] You're the man who attacked that woman, Mystique!
[ For being a demon, she'd said. And... ]
You're from Thedas, aren't you? [ She steps closer, peering suspiciously at the stranger. ] She said as much...
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Calling out to its master to fetch the fine animal proves unnecessary, however, as she appears in the doorway again shortly. ]
Are you the owner of this mansion. What? [ He pales. ] A woman? I-- Maker, no, I attacked a woman?
[ Of course, that is why the demon revealed itself so plainly, why its effort to deceive him seemed so far-fetched. It knew he would be vigilant, so it preyed on his suspicion instead. Blinding him, whispering to him from elsewhere, while he lashed out at another, an innocent who could not see the ghastly vision that creature sent. Too late it all makes sense. The "demon's" strange movements, its voice when- her voice when she cried out...
And he could not see it, not even when it was already too late. Cullen grasps at the weapon stand in front of him, ill. ]
Is she alive? [ 'She said.' She must be. Thank the Maker. ] Is she- is she all right?
[ Where else would he be from, if not Thedas?, but the question faints in light of the woman's reveal. He brushes it off with a frown. ]
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She's all right. I think she incapacitated you, actually, from what you said. [ Robyn's nostrils flare as she reflects on what Mystique's message had actually told them all. ] Lucky, given you seemed to be trying to kill her for being a demon.
[ The Warden lays her hand on Oren's head and the dog sits. Both pairs on eyes are on Cullen, scrutinizing. ]
Don't you remember? [ She asks, slowly. ] You seem... as if this is all a surprise. And if you're trying to weasel your way out of it by lying, I won't have it.
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No! No, I... recall the struggle, but.
[ He inhales, but someone must have neglected to air these chambers for a long time. Stiffly he faces her, forcing composure. He would prefer the woods now, he thinks, icy rain and Orlesian finery and all. Where to even begin? ]
I was at the Winter Palace in Orlais, that is the last thing I remember clearly. I stood on a balcony, and suddenly... suddenly I thought myself surrounded by a forest. A w-- Someone approached me, I spoke to them for but a moment when-- [ His words, already laboured, come to a halt. He makes himself breathe. ] Her face- her body, it appeared blue and monstrous to me, and I... I attacked the creature I thought I saw.
[ He can only bring himself to meet her eyes for a moment, then his head sinks. ]
I knew that some of what I was seeing couldn't possibly have been real, but I- I thought her the culprit, not part of the deception I'd fallen prey to.
[ Cullen looks up. ]
If she will see me, then I would apologise for my weakness.
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[ Something she usually sounds happier about, but it also isn't as if everyone from their country is inherently good. ]
Were you ill, or... somehow addled?
[ It would be shocking to arrive to Wonderland in that awful forest and then to see someone blue, but by her estimation, it isn't a cause for violence and panic. Unless there's something else, an underlying issue that's made him more off balance than he might have otherwise been.
Or not. ]
She is a prisoner, just the same as you and me. [ But, she'll get to explaining Wonderland once she understands more about him and his (potential) motives. ] I can contact her, but you can do it yourself; you ought to have a small device somewhere on your person, like a sending stone.
[ Not that she's any expert on them, mind. ]
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The words that follow make him flinch. ]
Some manner of enthrallment, no doubt. A hallucination. [ A beat. ] I regret that I could not resist it.
[ He can only force so curt a reply on the matter, nausea at the thought still thick in his throat. A blessing then, that her reply gives him cause to move on quickly. ]
...But prisoners you say? All of us? [ A beat. He brushed the words aside then, but they return to him now. ] The woman I attacked, she called it Wonderland, is that truly its name? She said there were others--
[ He shakes his head. ]
What manner of magic could be capable of such things?
[ The question is muttered to himself, spoken out loud only by chance. ]
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[ More than any magic she's ever seen, though her experience is limited to the past year. The Warden watches him from a distance, still wary, glad, at least, that he's Ferelden. Little steps in the right direction are better than none at all. ]
Yes. [ Robyn nods solemnly. ] Wonderland. It stays true to its name, though I still don't know of the source of its power. As for the others... [ This is where it always gets tricky and she sighs shortly, finally able to accept that neither he nor anyone from Thedas will remember her. ] You may not know all of them, but there are some. Inquisitor Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus, Garrett Hawke and Isabela, the captain... along with Alistair and Anders of the Grey Wardens.
[ "And myself," she doesn't add, thinking it's fairly obvious that she's also Ferelden. ]
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[ Is there no end to the madness in these revelations? Already he bristles at the first name she gives, Trevelyan - the name Hawke could not speak, the name of one who claims a title he has no right to. The name.
The name. ]
--And how is it that you've no trouble telling me all this? When I met one of them in the forest I could not speak his name, nor he mine. I would try to address him, but when I thought I'd said Hawke it would turn to- ah. It- [ He frowns. ] It has passed?
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[ And its queen, or... duchess, or whoever exactly it was. ]
Trouble? ... Ah. [ That. She admits a small, if grim smile. ] It seems it has. I could only call myself 'the Warden,' which I loathe, and... which reminds me that we haven't been properly introduced.
[ Their meeting has been a little... muddled, after all, but she isn't beyond manners, particularly if his attack had been a fault of Wonderland's strange magic. ]
I am Robyn Cousland, of the Grey Wardens. [ And he is someone who'll know what that means, which is rare. ] The mabari is mine; his name is Oren.
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Of the Grey--
[ No. Her point stands. First things first. ]
You're right. Forgive me. [ He nods to her, head held low. ] Commander Cullen, of the Inquisition.
[ A beat. So much to say-- ]
Not, however, of the impostor who claims to lead it. I know the Inquisitor, and she is certainly not the person you named. Whoever - or whatever - he is, he would try to deceive us, and claim her title. I've not met him in person yet, but if you do, be wary.
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[ And suddenly, her demeanor is different. She's on edge, standing stiffly, as if she's considering whipping out the dagger at her hip, eyeing him like a hawk where from she stands. ]
I knew there was something familiar about you. [ Robyn says, low, voice even, but twinged with warning. ] The last time I saw you, you were only a templar, and had begged me to slaughter the mages at the Circle Tower.
[ He might have attacked them if he'd had the chance, if he hadn't been safely behind a barrier. Still, the manic blood lust in his eyes was... undeniable.
Oren wasn't at Kinloch, being a Wonderland-born dog, but he senses his master's agitation and trots to her side, also watching the stranger with inborn, mabari wariness. ]
If you know the Inquisitor, then you must be from Brennan's time. [ Ten years in the future, which explains how different he seems. ] But, for me, it was only months ago, and I've hardly forgotten.
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That blighted Tower, it crawls to him every night, but no stranger should drag him to it in his waking hours. No stranger should even know. His fingers clench tight around his sword. ]
I know what I asked, and I know who I asked it from. Not you. What are you?
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I can explain, but if you attack, I will defend myself. [ Oren, too, sensing a shift, bares his teeth in a warning growl. She isn't stronger than Cullen by any means, but she's quick, and she has a mabari.
It'd be bloody, no matter what. ]
You have one chance to relinquish your weapon. [ She says in a low tone. ] I won't have you spreading that madness to this mansion.
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And yet, blades? And the mabari? Just props in this sickening charade? Or could there be- is there any way, any possible way, there could be more to this in some fashion? Cullen's sword remains sheathed, but he'll be damned if he takes his hand off of it, let alone gives it up. ]
By all means, explain.
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You remember another Inquisitor, you said? A woman? [ It's almost funny, almost, but not, because now three of their number have been confused for similar people of the other gender. ] And, if I can guess... the Grey Warden you met at Kinloch was a man called Aedan Cousland?
[ If so, that would be three for Aedan, the cold-hearted Warden that both Alistair and Hawke remembered. ]
Brennan Trevelyan is the Inquisitor, but from another version of Thedas. One similar, but with a number of changes. Just as I am Warden Cousland, who met you in the Tower, who could tell you every detail of that meeting.
[ It had been fairly striking, after all. ]
Dorian Pavus, who you may know, remembers Brennan as the Inquisitor, but they remember a woman called Marian Hawke.
[ Is it worth explaining? There's less than a single percent chance that he'll believe her; she knows he's stubborn, at least. ]
This place - Wonderland - has strong magic. Enough to take us from vastly different worlds.
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But she speaks on, and Cullen frowns. Aedan was indeed the man he knew, however briefly, yet such is hardly an impressive guess. Brennan Trevelyan is a stranger, save for the connections to Ostwick which the name invokes. A good name to please at least the local Chantry there, is that why it was evoked for this charade?
He balks at the words she uses so casually, at every detail of that meeting. Things etched into his mind like fire, things he can barely force past his lips. Few others are privy to even a glimpse, and if she thinks such knowledge would endear him to her or her story, then she is sorely mistaken. If she thinks he would be cowed by what she might drag from his past, then she is as well.
But there she moves on again, more names, convoluted. Marian Hawke, who is not his Champion, nor a close relation. A sister, dead, but not by that name. Carver mentioned. And finally she speaks no more.
Cullen would wonder if she might speak the truth, but where to begin? Another approach then: What could she possibly gain from such a lie? Not his trust, that much is certain. A story he can barely comprehend and scarcely believe. If it is a trick, then it is a poor one. If it is a game, then he doesn't know why or how it is player, let alone to what end.
And if it is the truth... ]
Different worlds. Different... versions of Thedas, events which change from one timeline to another? And they all bleed into each other here, is that your explanation?
[ A beat. ]
And if you are what Aedan Cousland was, how are you still alive?
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She steels herself, too, feeling a kind of anger that she hasn't succumbed to since her arrival in Wonderland. ]
That is the truth. [ Robyn insists, jaw set tight. ] You can ask any of the others and they'll say the same.
[ He surely will, and then, she suspects, he'll come up with another reason to brush away their explanations. The Warden is about to continue, to press her point, but she falls short with her mouth just opened, blind-sided by what he says next, confusion rapidly overtaking her. ]
- What? [ The question is unnerving, to say the least, and she physically withdraws, shoulders tensing at her sides. ] Why would I not be alive? Last the Inquisitor told me, I was-... in the Deep Roads.
[ "Searching for a cure," she almost says, but doesn't. If he knows, then he knows, but she isn't about to share Warden secrets with him.
It isn't very reassuring, but she thinks to around mid-winter, to when she'd seen visions of her past, present, and... future. The darkness of the Deep Roads had seemed to swallow the woman who was her, alone in the caves. She had been older and worn down, certainly, but alive.
Different versions of Thedas. Her hear thrums. ]
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Cullen waves her off. ]
--You are not him, no matter what you claim. I should not presume that you would share his fate.
[ His fist clenches, reassuring him of the hilt within his grasp. This is madness, all of it, but is it falsehood? No pleasing lie, no compelling tale: If there is an angle to this deception, then he cannot see it. And if there is as much truth to it as she claims-- ]
All you've told me, how is it- how is any of it possible? Who would have cause to involve us in this, and why?
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[ Void take anyone who said otherwise. She won't question herself anymore. ]
In Wonderland? [ Or in the mingled array of Thedases? She scoffs faintly, again shaking her head, as if this will drive away the negativity and bitterness that bites at her like mosquitoes. ] They say a Queen, or Duchess, or both has brought us here. They also say that the mansion itself holds power. I haven't been here for long enough to say for sure, but I think you would have some trouble finding anyone who would claim to know the whole truth.
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--A Duchess? But not Florianne? [ Sweet Andraste, that would be one frightfully elaborate back-up plan for a recently deceased woman. ] Where can I find either of them?
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[ More like spirits or demons than humans, really. ]
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He debates another question, but truthfully there is something else he must discover first. No amount of answers will serve him before he knows more about the one who gives them.
Cullen looks pointedly to the door, and back at the woman who stands between him and it. ]
You say there are others from Thedas who would confirm what you say. If I would seek them out, will you let me pass?
[ Without battle, he hardly needs to clarify. Because try to pass he will. ]
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If I have it on your honor that you won't go attacking the people here without cause. [ Robyn says, finally. Oren pants heavily, looking between his master and the other, bigger Ferelden. ]
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Not without cause, [ he repeats, as much promise as it is warning.
Then he takes his first step towards the door. ]
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