Duty and Legacy

Drakon and Adra were on the road. Traveling. Visiting through small villages and cities. The journey was tedious. They would travel for hours at a time and then stop and rest. Mainly to keep the dragon eggs warm. While traveling, the eggs were layered with blankets and cloth enough to cause a heat stroke. While they stopped, the dragon eggs lay within the campfire for extra warmth. Drakon's energy was fatigued due to a lack of sleep. Drakon would go in and out of sleep checking on the eggs and making sure they were not ambushed or attacked by creatures.

They had to reach the witch of the wilds. They didn't have a lot to go off of. Drakon heard stories and really only had a hunch to know where she may be. A story by the Dalish elves. The woman is known as Flemeth or in the Dalish tongue Asha'bellanar. There were rumors of the transformation of dragons. Where there was a dragon, Flemeth followed. The last known location was Brecilian Forest. Drakon continued to seek answers through bards in passing, taverns. And everything lead to the same old stories he had heard. Flemeth, god, witch, mage. Each story was told drastically different but all had similar themes. All they had to do was track a dragon and maybe just maybe they might find the witch of the wilds. 

The journey was tireless. The nights felt long, the sleep and fatigue ripped through Drakon's face. But it was worth it. This whole process was something Drakon had to do. Not for his family. Not for his father. But for himself. To prove to his father he was a capable person worthy to become a dragon knight. As they approached the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, he stood there gripping his spear in one hand. The double-bladed spear with small carved runes spread throughout the hilts and shaft of the weapon shinned from the sun. Since he was carrying the eggs along his back, he walked with his spear in his hand. Hours before both Adra and Drakon made it to the forest, a few passing strangers were talking about a sighted dragon that had been roaming nearby. Drakon licked his lips as he turned to Adra. [color=#008E02]"Hopefully, that dragon is nearby. Potential Flemmoth was someone who can transform into a high dragon...so was said in the stories....No stopping now...."[/color]

Drakon turned back to face the forests. Taking one more pause, Drakon began to move forward. 

Adrastus nodded in response to Drakon's words.  They were close now...though to what, he didn't know.

He just knew that when he woke up this morning, things seemed different...like the future that had been far beyond the horizon was about to suddenly be within reach.

His eyes once again went to the sky, scanning the treeline for signs of a dragon.  The idea that they were hoping to rush head-first into a dragon encounter seemed crazy.  That they were going to do it while carrying dragon eggs from another creature seemed suicidal.

But he kept his thoughts to himself.  Drakon was a Van Markham.  That surname came with power, responsibility, and destiny.  What would he know about any of that?

Well, he knew about responsibility.

People like him had to claw their place in the world, had to scrape out what trust and respect they could.  Then, people like him had to die so the Van Markhams could stand upon their corpses and achieve greatness.  THe wasn't angry about it; it was just the way the world worked.  Thousands of Sirideans and the like had to die so a handful of Van Markhams and Pentaghasts could live.  

The fact that he was still alive spoke to nothing more than his skill and determination.

And he was determined - determined that Drakon would do this thing, determined that he'd chase his fate to whatever end, determined that Drakon would live. He had, after all, given Albert his word.  

Besides, Drakon wasn't half-bad.  If he could figure out how to stop acting like an entitled douchebag, he might even be...Nope.  That line of thought had nowhere to go.  Adra was doing his job.  

Except it's not my job, and I know it.  I'm doing what's right...and there's a good chance I'm going to end up dead as a reward.  

Though...he wasn't going to die - not today at least.  

[color=#7CD98A]"Well, hopefully, Flemmoth isn't hungry.  Though...I can assure you that the way you smell isn't particularly appetizing."[/color]  It was true...they smelled like they'd been on the road for a few days and hadn't had anything more than a field bath.  It wasn't terrible, but certainly not great. 

Adra adjusted the straps of the pack he carried.  [color=#7CD98A]"No stopping now," [/color]he agreed.  Then, to himself, he quietly added, [color=#7CD98A]"Once more into the breach, dear friend."  [/color]

Morrigan was seated outside of that run-down hut. The Brecilian was off to one side, teaming with darkspawn and threats, and yet, the Wilds were... fine. Protected. Under her watchful eye. As was the city of Gwaren, Loghain's home.

She'd flown from Orlais, more to enjoy the flight than because she had too. The Eluvians being public access meant hers had been sat outside, far from the hut. It'd warped itself into something that was melded to the ground, shortly after. She'd thought she'd found the right place for it.

She hadn't cared if anyone saw a dragon landing in the Brecilian. They'd never know she'd transformed and walked through the forest to the Wilds, to the small hut between the forest and the wild-lands ruled by the Chasind.

After a bit of walking through the forests and the minor pauses due to potential threats, Drakon and Adra finally made their way deeper within the wilds of trees. Drakon paused in his walking. He took out a leather water pouch to drink some water. He could feel his throat itch for water. He was thirsty and he was pushing himself hard to keep moving without any steps. He tossed the pouch toward Adra so that he could take a quick drink. Usually, he would have just let Adra use his own but ever since these dragon eggs....made Drakon become more serious. In Adra'a eyes, less of a dick. As Drakon looked beyond the forests and trees, he noticed something. A hut. A person. Drakon immediately lowered himself to the ground and pointed out in the direction of the hut. [color=#008e02]"Over there...." [/color]

Drakon wondered if maybe this person would be able to help them locate the dragon. If they lived in such a hut, why wouldn't they see a dragon flying by? The rumors of dragon sightings were in the air. [color=#008e02]"You think we should ask? Rations are low....maybe they are gracious enough to share a meal with passing travelers?" [/color]

Adra didn't drop to the ground - they hadn't been particularly quiet up until this point...and skulking around probably would seem more suspicious than not.  He imagined he'd be incredibly suspicious of strangers that hid around the edges of his home.

Especially someone who lived out here...in the middle of nowhere.

[color=#7CD98A]"I think asking for information would be good.  As far as rations go...we aren't so desperate as to forget our manners.  In fact, I'd say we go as far as to offer to share what we have in exchange for information - there's always more game out there."[/color]

The truth is that he hadn't been pushing himself when he went out to hunt.  He had been trying to conserve his effort and energy for....something.  He wasn't sure what...but he knew something told him he'd need it.  Soon.

He looked toward the hut and tilted his head in a sort of side nod. [color=#7CD98A] "Guess I'll go knock.  You keep the kids safe."  [/color]

He continued toward the hut and, once he was a little closer, saw the person seated out front.  He kept his hands visible, his face placid.  His senses sharpened and he became vividly aware of everything around him.  The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand up on end.

Something felt...powerful here.

Now he just needed to make sure they knew he wasn't a threat.

[color=#7CD98A]"Afternoon." [/color] He tried to seem as friendly as possible, but he was ready for things to slide sideways as they inevitably would.

Morrigan was whittling, idly. She appeared unassuming, as any witch might in these parts. So when a lone person approached, she raised her eyebrows. Though she did not look up from what she was doing.

Afternoon, the nearer the stranger would step, the heavier his limbs would feel, until he was forcibly stopped by something invisible. Magic all around them.

Finally, she put down the wood-work she was doing. What might a pair of strangers seek this far out into the wilds? She inquired, raising her eyebrows again.

And she glanced towards the forest that the man had left behind, lips curved into a smile. Smart to leave that one back there. One of you deserves a chance to escape. Her voice was neutral, and she stayed sitting crossed-legged on the ground, hands resting against the ground.

What are you searching for?

Drakon stood there his pack heavy with several dragon eggs. Along with rations and materials for a long journey. The pack after a while would seem heavy. But it was soon about that time, they eventually needed to settle by a fire to keep the eggs warm. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Andra and he cracked. He was just going to ask. He didn't have the patience to sit and wait. They were looking for Flemeth. Their discoveries had led to her potential being able to know something about dragon eggs and possibly had heard of the legendary Dragon Knights and the ability to connect with dragons. She had too, or at least she maybe would known someone who might know about the special bloodline that once flew among the dragons. He wished had had his grandfather's journal. His father had kept it with him all the time. 

[color=#008e02]"We're looking for Flemeth? Or if you have seen maybe a large Dragon in the area? We seek information...."[/color] Drakon's words came out rush and desperate. He knew Andra was going to make some sort of side comment but he didn't care. [color=#008e02]"And well maybe a warm fire if possible for the night...we have been traveling a while..." [/color]

Adra turned as Drakon approached with the pack.  Damned fool. Damned fucking fool.  

When Drakon spoke, Adra's stomach lurched.  What the hell was the kid thinking?  Walking up carrying the fucking pack...where the fuck is his head?  

He turned to look back at the witch and shrugged,  [color=#7CD98A]"So much for a chance at escape...though I highly doubt there was one in the first place.  You don't seem like the type that would let folks get away if you didn't want them to." [/color] He gave a halfhearted smile. [color=#7CD98A] "But yeah...seeking Flemmoth.  Don't suppose you'd be willing and able to point us in the right direction."    [/color]

The witch grinned, as the young men asked about Flemeth. What's in the pack? She inquired, moving towards them. Like a hunter that's seen prey. She could see the shell of an egg peeking out from the pack, and her lips widened.

Flemeth is dead. Flemeth was not, but as far as Morrigan knew the old bitch didn't want to be found. But I can help you in her stead.

Her smile widened, fey smile that showed her teeth. My name is Morrigan. Her name was well-known; some nations feared her, other nations tried to use her. Ferelden was her home when she was not in Orlais...

She'd saved Ferelden; she loved the country if only because it was her tie to her true past. But she was not nearly as sentimental to admit to something like that.