ben_hassrath | for skremisher [completed]

[ In days following his decision on the hill, Bull had struggled in coming to grips with the implications of what he had done. It had created a crisis of self for the Qunari, as he battled with just what it all had meant. He could no longer pretend to be two people, he had chosen, and that choice had been to remain loyal to the Qun. Bull did not regret this, because regretting the choice would have been disrespectful to the sacrifice his men had made. It hadn't made it any easier to deal with, but he allowed himself time to grieve, and those closest to him had made the process easier.

Now, he feels a whole man. He honors his Chargers by the work he does through the Inquisition, with each Venatori bastard he puts down with his own hands. Sometimes he'll toast to them, with others or on his own, tell (sometimes exaggerated) stories of their escapades as a mercenary band, keeping their memory alive, if only for his own sake. It's what he does to make things feel right.

Tonight, he's in his usual spot in the tavern, keeping to himself for the most part. Usually, he might be telling stories with his companions, or flirting with whoever's tending the bar, but tonight he's content to sit back and watch. He nurses a mug of (regular) ale, letting his mind wander as the bard in the corner plays. It gets easier with every passing day, not having them here with him, but that doesn't mean he likes it. ]

Threaded | Flat

[ It had been a difficult decision to make, one that could only have been made by Bull. He never sounded for retreat so the Chargers had stood firm, holding their ground - though they had been quickly overwhelmed by the Venatori forces. They'd been taken down quickly but they'd fought bravely, not willing to give up their position, not willing to let the Iron Bull down. In the end, their sacrifice would be worth it.

That was what Krem's final thoughts had been, right before he'd fallen. Everything he did here was for Bull. The Chargers all knew the risks behind every assignment, they all knew each fight could be their last. They all stood strong and they all had fought hard. In the end it had bought time for the dreadnought, given way for the Qunari alliance with the Inquisition. Krem had died with no regrets - but why did Bull's conscience still weigh him down so much?

The world was a strange place since the tear had appeared in the Veil. Since the appearance of all the rifts, things had changed - they were unstable. Most things were able to go unnoticed, distant echoes that were silenced every time the Inquisitor sealed another. Though the Fade was far from a place Bull could visit on his own, tonight the distance between the Fade and reality seemed almost non-existent. While there were no green skies and craggy ground, Bull's mind was distracted enough to see the pieces that leaked through. Pieces of the Fade that wanted to be seen, at the very least. One distant echo wasn't about to let himself fall silent.

Not until Bull's conscience was cleared.]

It's a good night, isn't it, Chief?

[From the corner of Bull's eye, Krem was there, sitting on the barrel next to him. In hand, the younger mercenary had a bottle of ale, bringing it to his lips and nursing it slowly, swirling it around a little as he looked out over the other patrons in the tavern, Maryden the bard singing faintly over the crowd. A song that sounded almost mournful but over it all, Krem's voice was loud and clear.]

Had a good fight there, didn't we? Venatori bastards... [Krem's free hand came up to rub at his cheek, on the side of his face that Bull couldn't yet see.] Have a feeling they left me a hell of a scar...

[No one else seemed to notice Krem's presence.]

for skremisher [completed]

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