5

Ama gözler kör.İnsanlar, kendilerini motive eden şeyler yerine,hasta olacakları durumlara odaklanıyor.Ne kadar çok şeye ihtiyacımız var.İşte bu  yüzden kör ve yoksuluz. Biraz daha zamanım olsa! diye sızlanıp duran beyaz adamdan farkımız yok.


@hasantasdeln

Prompt - Her and the party of your choice getting lost on their way to complete a war table mission. Could be a made up mission or one that actually exists! - @savvylittleminx

Temporarily Misplaced

“The foliage in these parts really is remarkable.”

Enaste glanced over her shoulder at Dorian. The Tevinter mage had been conspicuously quiet for the last hour, though anyone who managed to get Cassandra riled up enough to handle her sword hilt meaningfully had good reason to keep his mouth shut. He was gazing wistfully at a shrub beside his elbow … a shrub bearing a tuft of cloth that looked remarkably like the patch torn off her own elbow about an hour ago.

“Ah … uh, Cassandra?”

The Seeker turned sharply back to her from the track ahead.

“What?” she snapped.

Enaste gestured to the shrub Dorian was contemplating. “Are you absolutely sure we’re not lost?”

“I am never lost,” Cassandra declared, but her eyes had narrowed as she spied the cloth hanging from the thorns. “Do not say it, Tevinter.”

“My dear lady, Maker forbid I should ever test your temper twice in a single day,” was his rather suave response. It didn’t save him from the disgusted sound that emanated from the Seeker’s throat.

Enaste sighed, rubbing a hand over her naked elbow absently as she looked around. She wouldn’t have said it aloud - at least, not where Cassandra could hear her - but they had been walking in circles for more than half the day, by her reckoning. Purely because Varric had annoyed the Seeker about her map-reading to the point where Cassandra had stalked off at speed declaring that she always knew where she was and where she was going.

“When are we supposed to meet this ranger from Ostwick again?” she asked as mildly as she dared.

Cassandra glared at her. “Tomorrow morning,” was the answer.

“We may be a little late,” Varric offered, rolling his eyes as the glare was transferred from Enaste to himself. “Come on, Seeker, admit it. No harm in admitting to a little mortal frailty now and then.”

“And I suppose you know exactly where we are,” Cassandra growled back at him, her tone filled with acid.

“Nope, not a clue,” the dwarf said cheerfully. “I figured we’d let Momma find the way back to the actual road before dark, what do you say?”

“Oh, yes, let’s,” Dorian agreed. “The Dalish are supposedly awfully good at navigating through wild places, and oh, look! We have one right here!”

As Cassandra’s annoyed gaze returned to her, Enaste sighed once again. “Thank you so much,” she murmured to the other two.

She hadn’t wanted to show Cassandra up, if at all possible, but this was getting a little ridiculous. She gestured to the east, attempting to make it look apologetic in the face of the Seeker’s increasingly short temper.

“That way.”

Cassandra scowled, but headed off between the trees in the direction indicated. The other three fell in behind her. Only Enaste winced when the unbeaten track opened up onto the main merchants’ road after just a few minutes. She shrugged innocently as the Seeker turned that glare on her once again.

“And which way down this road do you suggest, Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked in annoyance.

Enaste pointed north. “We’re about an hour out from where we were hoping to reach, if that helps,” she offered. “You did bring us most of the way.”

“Through nug-infested forests,” Dorian pointed out helpfully, “when a perfectly good road was right here.”

“Then you can navigate back to the mountains once we make contact with this Trevelyan,” Cassandra informed him sweetly. “Not a word, Varric.”

The dwarven rogue made a creditable attempt to look innocent. “Who, me? My lips are sealed.”

“They had better remain that way.”

Enaste rolled her eyes as they set off down the road once again. All this, just to make contact with some human noble who might have some information about where Corypheus was headed next. Still, she had learned something. She was never letting Cassandra try to read a map again.