Thread: ≒ To the Scar in the Sky We March | Dragon Age Inquisition | sixlikesgore. ≓

RE To the Scar in the Sky We March Dragon Age Inquisition with sixlikesgore. Formalities, as much as Cassandra wasn't a fan of them, tended to drive hard in her mannerisms. Such is why it was hard for the dark hared woman to remind herself of their Inquisitor's preferred title her nickname, rather than something as formal as 'Inquisitor'. It more than likely came from the fact that she'd been called so many high things in her lifetime, Seeker and the Divine's Right Hand being the highest among them. The 'order' that the rogue gave them only clarified the difference between their way of addressing things, Cassandra knowing she'd use something along her lines to tell her group of companions to charge in, but that was the way of things. Their leader had a sense of humor that was, even though she didn't admit it, refreshing to be around. Much better than Varric's, that was certain. All she had to do was hear the words 'last one' and Cassandra was charging down the hill towards the heat of the battle, her sword and shield at the ready. As soon as she was in earshot of the fighting bodies, she let out a loud roar, gaining the attention of two Venatori that'd started to close in on a dalish member of the Chargers. With their attention now honing in on her, she grinned, her blood flaring within her veins as the heat of the battle started to pump within her. The first closed in, leaving the second to remain behind, throwing a barrier up around the two of them. Cassandra paid no heed, lunging forward with her sword, lashing at the first member of the Venatori. Her blade connected with the man's torso, and with her momentum, she swiveled her foot, carrying the blade out into a spin as he gasped. Leaving him in his attempt to recompose himself, the warrior swiftly continued in her strike, lifting her shield to block an oncoming electric ball that the spellcaster released from his staff. He'd clearly assumed that she wasn't going to block his attack, and when she bashed her shield into his body, sending him off his feet, she couldn't help but feel a bit of a smug smirk ghost at the corner of her lips. Plunging her sword into the man's vital organs, giving him a swift death, she pivoted in order to face the remaining Venatori, only to see Solas had quickly dispatched of him. After giving a soft nod of approval in the apostate's direction, she charged towards the remaining of the Venatori to help dwindle them down, whose numbers had fallen little in the small amount of time the Inquisition group had waded in. As the last man was taken care of, Cassandra heaved her shield back into its rightful place, more concerned with cleaning her blade of its filth before she settled it at her waist. Even so, as she cleaned her weapon, her eyes never left the two leaders as Leila made her way towards the Chargers' enforcer. It'd been some time since she'd been involved with the Qun, indirectly or otherwise, but she couldn't tell what to make from the company she saw before them. At first glance, they looked like a group of savages, but she knew that wasn't an appropriate judgment. After all, the Inquisition wasn't seen as anything but a group of heretics in the Chantry's eyes. It still didn't make her feel better about the situation, though these mercenaries already seemed to come with enemies. She wasn't sure if the Inquisition could afford anymore than the ones they already had to face. Varric and Solas came to rest at her sides as she observed the encounter between their Inquisitor and Iron Bull, slowly bringing her blade up to slide it back into its sheath. We should intervene, before we lose her to his company, she mused, not entirely joking about the idea. She could easily see Leila signing on to slaughter things for a hefty price. It seemed to suit her better than Herald of Andraste status, at least. The dwarf chuckled, seeing the same perspective about their dual-bladed rogue, while Solas simply remained silent, the pinched look on his face making it clear he was more uncomfortable about being in their current location than she was. Although, upon approaching the two, and hearing their leader's rather 'impressive' start at their introductions, Cassandra's face was almost mimicking their elven apostate's. The clench of her fists clearly demonstrated that Leila's thought to dance out of her reach was a smart one, leaving her to huff at the over-shared information. It was bad enough she couldn't go much of anywhere without someone asking her about a dragon, or her impressive abilities as a Seeker. Not to mention, it nearly felt like she was related to almost everyone she swept across because of her heritage. You forgot to mention she belongs to the family that nearly wiped out dragons- A brash cuff upside the back of the dwarf's head cut off Varric's teasing tone, causing him to yelp and take a few steady paces away in retreat to rub the area affected. You can call me Cassandra, or Lady Seeker if that is what you prefer. She begrudgingly announced afterwards, crossing her arms in defeat over her chest plate as her caramel eyes came to rest on the Qunari sitting before them. Varric Tethras, the dwarf eventually managed to conclude to the introductions, still rubbing the slightly sore spot on his head. And before you ask, the crossbow's Bianca. No, I'm not explaining it, so don't ask. He clarified, figuring since Leila had informed Bull of his 'obsession', he might need one. Telling him she had a name probably didn't make Leila's words seem any less true.. Upon Solas' silence, Cassandra glanced towards the elf, who eventually spoke his name through tightly pressed lips, his distrust clearly visible. Pushing past the small moment of silence after everyone was on a first name basis, Cassandra's eyes address the Qunari before her once more, arms remaining in their crossed position. I'm assuming you've already spoken to Leliana and made arrangements for payment? Where Josephine was going to get the funds for their services, she honestly had no idea, but she knew better than to question a Montilyet - now, at least.