X-DREAMERS [mission 01: ash and sand] in Freeform Role Plays Posted April 5, 2018 Jowan [ if you’re so sure ] Jowan remains unconvinced. How could the situations be so different? There is always a limit. The idea that there isn’t, that one can do the impossible just by having something to fight for, is almost insulting. Was fighting for Lily no enough? He’s tempted to take back his faltered apology and tell Duke how naive he is. But maybe Duke is made of something different. Maybe he’s the strange one for being unwilling to take a stand. Always take the easy way out, right? Answer the enticing call of blood magic. Run instead of accepting fate. Be stupid enough to believe that the simple task of emptying a vial would be enough to fix things. His own attempts had hardly gotten good results. His eyes widen in surprise at Duke’s offer. Why, when he’d been nothing but disparaging? It’s a chance to make things better, and he feels as though he should accept it, but the words catch in his throat. Duke’s eyes are too trusting, and Jowan finds himself unable to meet them. “I-” He wants to pretend that he isn’t worried about dying. The cause of freedom should be greater than his own meagre life, shouldn’t it? But the thought of going against an army and a god… it’s more than he expected. The red glow of the sun and the smell of ash makes everything feel far more real than it did in the twilight of the Gateway, where he had agreed to go on the mission. "The people will not victimized if the justice is swift and sweet. The fall of a king is a universal symbol of freedom across the land, no matter where." A short, humorless laugh escapes his lips. The situations are different, he knows. His knowledge of politics is lacking, but he is aware that King Cailan wasn’t hated by the public, no rebellion had been lead against him, and Ferelden had been facing a Blight when Loghain took his place. Even so, Duke’s words are odd. In most cases, the death of a ruler weakens its nation. Issues of succession are common enough, but even when succession is smooth there is a period of time when the new ruler adjusts to their position. What did that have to do with freedom? It causes Jowan to wonder what plans Duke has for afterwards, or if he even has any. Creating a power vacuum wouldn't help the people. Before he can consider speaking his thoughts a harsh voice cuts through the air, and like a startled rabbit he freezes. The voice itself is not familiar, but the rough, arrogant tone is uncomfortably so. Dread pools in his stomach as he raises his eyes enough to see the approaching figure. The guard’s armor is unlike that of the Templars, but his squared shoulders and heavy stride are remarkably similar. Jowan grasps his injured forearm. The pain, and with it the knowledge that he is not helpless, is grounding. It is with practiced ease that he does nothing to help Dynarst. Those that draw the ire of the Templars are ignored, and only later comforted in the safety of their dorms or a hidden alcove. They all knew that. But Duke is not so constrained, and the guard’s fist collides with a barrier. It was a strong punch, and Jowan’s hand rises to his cheek to sooth the ghostly pain of metal on flesh. Instead of relief when the guard is tossed aside he feels the overwhelming desire to flee and hide. His hand shoots forward to grasp Duke’s wrist. “We have to leave,” he says, dilated pupils darting back and forth. His breathing is quick and shallow. No. He is no longer a child. The guard is not a Templar, and there is no need for exaggerated reactions. They are not helpless. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhales, and holds his breath for a moment. “I mean,” he says, words carefully measured, as he opens his eyes to stare at a cobblestone. “That more might be coming. We should try to avoid getting caught up in that. Can’t take down a king and find the anchor while fighting city guards, right?” He doesn’t let go of Duke’s wrist. If anything, his grip tightens.