Dragon Age: Absolution is an alternate universe RPG based on BioWare's video game and novel series. DA: Absolution is rated 18+ for mature content, and played in a highly literate third-person perspective. All DA concepts and pictures belong to Bioware and their respective artists.

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❝There has yet to be a thing that I have wanted that gold cannot buy. Drink. Food. New armour. New blades. Boys. Girls. Gold is what makes the world turn, princess, whether you want to admit it or not."
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 Da'ashaen, Chapter 57- Iska|Illia
Vincello Cervantes
 Posted: Sep 4 2014, 03:04 PM
4 posts
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Though Illia would be the last mage apprentice I undertook, she was not truly my final student. That title would be bestowed on another elf. Iska was unlike any I had mentored before. A perfect contrast to sweet Illia, her fires were as bright as any her sister apprentice could wield. An inner fire that I had hoped to temper. To turn raging wildfire to precise magefire, to calm Dalish fury into a Warden's absolution. Where most of the world would only see a savage heretic. I saw an inspiring battle-maiden. With each other at their side, these two women would lead the next generation of Weisshaupt Wardens. It was my final duty as Warden-Constable of the Anderfels, to turn these two little girls into the future leaders of my Order. Though at this time, neither girl was a true Warden yet. Illia but a recruit, and Iska but a wild eyed stranger...


The frigid winds of the High Reaches whipped over the craggy visage of Vincello. His single eye squinted against the gale, jaw set as the Templar camp below came into site. As him and the other Wardens neared the shore of the Colean Sea, the Constable halted the party. With one foot held high upon a small boulder and the other balanced at its base, a wry smile would touch his lips. Just as his scout had discovered, a darker skinned elf was bound face down in the sand. Vin would turn momentarily to nod at the wiry male elf that had made the discovery.

"Good eye, ma'falon."

He snapped once before pointing at his side, signalling Illia to come stand on the boulder next to him. Once his apprentice had taken her place at his side, Vincello placed a gentle hand on her frail shoulder. The hand, just as scarred as anywhere else on the veteran Warden's body gripped lightly to affirm his words.

"Remember, you no longer answer to Chantry law. Treat them no different than any city guard, but show them no weakness lethallan." The mage started, single eye glinting merrily. "And let me do all the talking."

Vincello's laugh was barely audible as he snapped and motioned for the ranging party to follow him. With fluid grace the man stepped forward off the boulder, landing on his other foot easily as his stride took pace. His steps made not a sound, nor did the wooden sheath of his spellweaver clank with one hand securing the hilt to the scabbard. Swiftly the Constable lead his Wardens through the trees, bursting from the treeline after mere moments much to the Templars' surprise. Shouts of warning were called out, and Vincello motioned for his people to slow their pace. His body held confidently but without threat, the Warden returned with a greeting.

What appeared to be their captain sheathed his blade and began to stride forward, accepting the offered hand from Vincello. Just out of hearing from both parties the two men shared calm pleasantries. After another moment the two men shook again, and began to walk towards both Wardens and Templars.

"Stand down men," The Captain called, gazing warily at Illia. "Let the Warden do his business." The Templars all murmured to themselves, the crisp snap of Vincello's fingers echoing above the din calling for Illia to follow him. With careful steps he moved through the dozen or so armored Templars, the wet sand beneath his feet crunching lightly. Before speaking to the women held prisoner, he knelt down next to the dark elf to turn her onto over back. With a firm hand on her shoulder he eased her into a sitting position, but did not untie her bindings.

"Aneth ara, asha'elvhen. I am Vincello Benedetto Cervantes of the Grey Wardens." He would introduce himself, a hand placed over his heart in the Dalish sign of respect. "It is my understanding that when the Templars attempted to take you into custody, you killed two and maimed seven. They would take you to Tallo to face Chantry justice and beheaded for the killing of Templars." The older man paused to let his words sink in, single eye gleaming defiantly.

"They would see you dead... I would see such impressive skill not be wasted..."

 Posted: Sep 13 2014, 12:05 AM
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The wind was cold. It bit at her bones and knawed at her porcelain skin. Well, it was porcelain at times. A constant switch from pale to burnt, the cycle was horrid and unending. Just as the reign of the sun was a constant in her new homeland, The Anderfels, and she loved it. Unlike this cold.The kind of cold she could never quite settled into, a lover of the fire of the sun...despite all of it's curses. But was she about to complain about the weather? Of course not, the girl she was becoming hardly complained at all. Instead, she gritted her teeth against such things, coolly watching her surroundings. Sweet Illia, always with something to prove. Not a prissy Circle mage, not as some Wardens had teased. Not even as her fingers rapped against her polished staff. That place had nearly killed her, she would be worthy of more than its name.

Although those thoughts were not too prominent in her mind. They were focused on the beauty of her surroundings, holding in the chatter that threatened to burst onto the nearest comrade, and a sense of excitement building within her. The feeling that something was building. An approach. Something so almost tangible, the firey-haired girl could taste it on her tongue.

At this very thought, she was called over to her mentor, with a gesture and a snap. That was all that was ever needed. The small girl scrambled up to the boulder, neither missing a step nor falling over her feet. It seemed the rigorous training was beginning to have effect, in her slight gain of agility and the control over her fires the year that had almost passed had given to her. That the Wardens had shown her, taught her. Or rather, Vincello Cervantes.

Given was most certainly the wrong word. Illia had fought for this control, she had bled for her training and worked harder than she ever thought she could. Near every step of the way her mentor had been beside her, guiding her, leading and tempering her, from the moment he had freed her from the Templars and onwards, ever onwards. Until she was ready, and after that. A constant, he was, and with blind faith she thought he always would be. What was once a quivering, wide-eyed girl was on her way to become more than could be imagined. That was thanks to The Warden-Constable.

Looking up at her mentor she smiled, despite the bitter cold and the aching of her muscles, she smiled.

"I shan't forget, hahren," she said with a small smile, her teasing elvish name for her mentor bringing her more amusement than it perhaps should have. There was a beauty in the language, another gift given by Vincello. The words of her people she had lost as a child, it gave her a certain warmth to be speaking it again. Even in it's many fragmented pieces. To his other gentle reminder she bit her lip and nodded, it was always hard for her to hold back what she wanted to say. The last time they'd had a scuffle with a certain city guard had been almost singularly her fault.

And it won't happen again. To temper that temper, was exactly what was needed.

Another snap, and the entire ranging were on the move, Illia staying at her mentor's side, only a fraction behind in her steps.. Towards the Templars and the elven woman. And the Tempalrs. It had been a considerably long time since she'd last faced them, sage to say she was both eager and nervous. Unsure of the outcome, especially if Vincello was doing what she thought he was. What she suspected.

There they stood. Metal giants in with their swords and their ways. The many ways they could quench the fires and stop the magic, it was frightening. What they'd planned to do to her, the Circle, the Chantry, the Templars...it was hard to forgive. They were almost an evil, with a few redemptions. Even their gaze seemed dark, the Captain's was one she fell under. And returned, with the real emotion in her eyes, the colour of fire. Anger, hatred...mischievousness, almost. Why? Because in her mind, she had an inkling of how this was to play out. It involved, Templars on fire, and that was a pleasing thought.

With a slight knowing smile, she switched her staff from her right to her left hand, the dominant one, and watched the proceedings. Ever ready. Ever wiling.

Vincello spoke his words, the words that were his title and then some. The situation was shockingly similar, almost surreal. Although it had another air about it, it was different somehow. She was different. This elf, that lay on the ground, she didn't have the sense of magic around her. Not that Illia was all too adept at sensing such things. Wherever it was to go, it was curious and curiouser.

"They would see you dead... I would see such impressive skill not be wasted..." There was worry within, worry and doubt and anticiptation. In a sense, she had been right. Something had been building. Was it about to explode?

Or catch fire? Like the Templars should.

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