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Born: 28 May 1990
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“It is not the violence that sets a man apart — it’s the distance he is prepared to go.”
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Character Age: 32
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Specialization: Duelist
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Last Seen: Apr 22 2018, 04:12 PM
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Apr 22 2018, 04:13 PM
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<center><i>15 Solace, 9:41 - Jader</i></center><p>
Skyhold had been a fucking mess from the start. There had been some more than entertaining encounters but ultimately it was a waste of time. It set off the path the pirate’s intentions, plans put into place thwarted by a spineless crew who would see the error of their ways soon enough. Too many demons had made their way into Everett’s life despite the nagging in the back of his mind to purge them all. It was why he preferred the open seas, traveling coast to coast and doing what he needed and wanted to do. Now he was left with nothing save some weaponry stolen from the Inquisiton along with a few supplies that would get him where he was heading. Towards the tail end of the disastrous stay the human made contact with an old acquaintance that would be able to put him back on track. He did have to say the silence of the trip suited him.<p>

Notwithstanding the beast between his legs as a fanged mouth parted to let out a harsh breath, clawed feet navigating the terrain better than any horse in his experiences. Everett eyed the back of the dracolisk’s horned head, considering keeping it as compensation for his troubles though he knew ultimately it would fetch a pretty penny once he reached Jader. That had been the plan when stealing it in the chaos that ensued when a rather large demon made a personal house call to the Inquisition. Something personal, it seemed, for once the Inquisitor had showed her face she had been the primary target. It was all too much for him; he wasn't about to die for some organisation that still didn't look as if it knew what it was doing. Interests rested elsewhere, namely on himself, and that was where they would remain. <p>

Fenris had been left to his own devices keeping watch over the fucked up Champion. Everett still recalled the way the man had fought against the supposed help the branded elf imposed upon him, a few good strikes leaving bruises to show his reluctant assistance. That was another thing the pirate didn't want to toil with. He couldn't call himself friends with either of them, although they had helped him out of a tight situation. It was only fitting to help what little he could before less than personal goodbyes were given with his departure. So now time was spent with the grueling task of making his way to the port city, Everett determined to not stop unless necessary. The dracolisk appeared up for the task, tireless in ways horses were not. <p>

He didn't keep track of the days, the several that had passed, before arriving at the city. Ship sails could be seen through the cracks of the buildings, rolled up as the vessels were docked and Everett allowed himself a small sense of pleasure. He was not foolish enough to think the man he had come to see would be completely compliant, however, so he simply focused on the tasks laid out before him. Selling the stolen creature was easy enough, and indeed the coinpurse he received was hefty with the currency within it. Tucking it with his meager belongings on his belt and inside his overcoat booted feet took him deeper into the city and down towards the docks. Pale blue eyes kept track of all that moved around him, subtle observations made and stowed away in his mind as he came to stand before the nondescript building that housed the key to his freedom, in a sense. The freedom to gather a crew looking for a captain and once again set sail and leave land behind him.<p>

It was not difficult to catch the way the door stood ajar, however, and immediately Everett grew defensive. One foot shifted to the side, one hand stretching forward to nudge the door open while the other slipped beneath the overcoat to find the hilt of one of the stolen daggers. Quietly he slipped it from its sheath, as quiet as he could anyways, and the first dredges of adrenaline began to settle in. It was not a far stretch to think that perhaps the man had just simply forgot to close the door, but Everett was not so naive to assume the best. Stepping carefully into the space it was completely dark, a dying flame flickering beneath the crack of the door down the hallway the only telltale sign that anyone was present. Not a sound could be heard, but Everett knew better than to rely on that alone, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low lighting. It wasn’t fear that caused his heart rate to increase, a simple reflex to the situation as the human made sure to step closer to the walls so the wood wouldn’t creak.<p>

He was prepared for a fight, already analyzing the situation with the little information provided to him, and as he neared the door where the candlelight filtered through he paused to listen. To someone untrained on what they were looking for they might have missed the faintest shift of fabric, or the feeling that the human felt telling him others were nearby. It took a simple observation, a few seconds of paying attention to pinpoint just how many were inside. Four, to be exact, all standing and waiting. Everett could smell blood on the air, enough of it spilled that he actually could pick up on it, and he had to stop himself from being angry. No doubt the blood belonged to the person he had come to see, though it didn’t explain how the ones who ended him knew of the pirate’s arrival. Everett had made sure to remain as secretive as possible, the man paranoid enough already, but such matters could be addressed after the current problem had been dealt with. Decorated fingers twisted around the hilt, tilting the dagger down to lay against his forearm and a hand touched against the door.<p>

Wooden floorboards groaned with the weight that shifted over them from the other side, two sets of feet approaching the door that Everett kicked inwards so that it would swing against one of the chosen targets. The other rushed, a shorter man who stepped lighter than the other who had let out a pained grunt when the door slammed against his face. Everett remained quicker, however, and the dagger was swept forward with a fluid motion, the stricken man looking surprised. Eyes widened, a strained noise choking in his throat as it slowly seemed to split before a spray of blood squirted outwards with the quickened pulse. For a moment the human watched, a grin finding his lips as the wounded clutched at the gash and collapsed. Swinging around the door the larger one had recovered, yet not fast enough as Everett switched the dagger to his other hand, pushing against the man’s chest until he was flush with the wall. The dagger was stabbed into the soft abdomen once, twice, and three times before it was yanked back, angled to sink into the off-guard quarry’s throat.<p>

Such a satisfying sound, and Everett didn’t keep his back to the other two who had begun to move, turning only to stop in his tracks. A figure sat reclined behind the desk in the office, booted feet swaying idly with one ankle resting over the other as a set of familiar dark eyes watched him silently. The bearded features said it all, however, as lips twisted up into a knowing smile. Quickly the pieces fell into place then at the sight of the demon, Everett kicking himself for not having picked up on that aura that threatened to consume all that it touched. He hadn’t been expecting it, and apparently that was his mistake. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Bloody hell, you just keep showin’ up,”</strong> he said, surprise in the way it was said though once realization had settled in the human couldn’t say he was surprised. In that hesitation one of the remaining pirates crashed against him, a weapon in hand and Everett waited for it to lash outwards yet the attack never came. Bracing a heel against the wall the Ferelden refused to be pinned, glaring at the one who had taken advantage of the faltered movement.<p>

Pale gaze fell away from him, however, and settled on Malphus. They weren’t eager to kill him, nor was the demon, otherwise the creature would have been one of the first to attack. A fraction of a second passed before the human embedded the dagger into the man’s stomach, the demon hardly having time to let the other two legs of the chair hit the ground when legs pulled back. Even less time was given to allow him to speak as lips parted to do just that, which was the plan, among other reasons behind what he intended to do. Pushing the assailant back just enough to reach into his coat Everett plucked free one of the flasks, throwing it with more force than was necessary against the top of the desk. There it exploded as the contents interacted vigorously, fragments of glass shooting in every direction and the darkness was torn away in favor of a blinding flash. Everett’s ears rung with the sound in the small space, disoriented but determined to keep moving. He had avoided the blinding, reaching for one of the smaller knives and taking it between his fingers. There was a small hope that the demon had been blinded, even if it was temporary and would only buy him a few extra seconds. His eyesight was better than that of any mortal, or so it was assumed and boasted by the creature himself, so Everett aimed to mess it up.<p>

The knife was thrown into the face of the last one standing, and the pirate wasted no time in skirting around the door, slamming it shut behind him as if it would help. Perhaps buy another few seconds, and knowing the demon likely was not going to sit idly by Everett could utilize every one of those seconds. Leaving the building was the easy part, now it was choosing the best course of action to put as much space between himself and the Fade creature as possible. How did one run from an entity that could hear your thoughts and read your emotions? Picking the pirate out of a crowd would be difficult if only the demon didn’t know him so well. Under other circumstances that thought would amuse him, as dark as it was considering the thing wasn’t even human. Everett settled for the crowd anyways, glad that the sun had not yet fallen and the streets were still occupied with many passerby. At the very least it would force the demon to remain hidden lest he wished to deal with a good portion of the population that would see whatever beast came charging through their ranks. Everett walked quickly, weaving through clusters of conversating townsfolk as he turned the corner into the market.<p>

Dec 18 2017, 03:33 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 480px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 10px 10px 0px 10px; border: #8a6992 solid 5px; text-align: justify; font-family: Roboto; font-color: #000000; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><center><img src=https://i.imgur.com/tpcumON.gif><p><i>27 Drakonis, 9:40</i></center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;">Tevinter proved itself a valuable source of income once again, as it often did despite the twisted souls that resided within the country. Everett had no love for the abundance of mages Minrathous harbored, their mere presence a slight to his own in his mind though they were good only for manipulation to gain what he desired. In this case that would be a compiled list of coordinates that would lead to way to hidden caches a black market dealer had stashed away down South. Among other things, of course, for it wasn’t just such a list that had garnered his interest. The pirate could only assume the dealer would miss it considerably, yet no remorse could find him. Even less given the trade the man dabbled in, leashes traded from one hand to another with less than pleasant intentions. Everett knew the man personally, and it was what gave a much sweeter satisfaction to have stolen from him. He was a paranoid man, keeping his enemies closer than what little friends he had and his resources even closer still. His crew had suffered a loss during the acquisition of the list, something that Everett had grown used to. They were fodder to him and nothing more, even the ones he had come to hold close at his flanks, and it would not be hard to replace the one they lost.<p>

While the slave trade did not sway the minute moral compass he claimed to have, he did consider it a waste of time and effort. Keeping slaves was tedious work at best, leaving room for error and Everett simply didn’t have the patience for it. Most of the ones who turned to it were too skeevy for his tastes, giving more hindrances than they did any ground covered in maintaining an easy flow of coin. So ultimately that is what drove the rogue to pluck the treasured list from the man’s study where it had been tucked away on the underside of the desk. Not terribly difficult to find, all in all, yet it had not come without a price. One that Everett gladly paid with the life of one of his own, knowing the significance such things would have on his most recent venture. Gold, weapons, supplies; it would all be necessary for an expedition he had been planning for quite some time now. Once they had cleaned out the caches they would turn their sights upon obtaining a larger ship and adding more into the fold so they could travel further North.<p>

Within his cabin beneath the helm the rogue sat behind his desk, the gentle groan of the ship as it sailed as smoothly as the oceans would allow the only sound that broke the silence aside from the scratch of the tip of the quill against the parchment splayed out before him. Carefully he marked the locations, transferring the information in case the list should be lost so he could keep it on his person, an easy sway of the brigantine going unnoticed to one so used to the gyrating motions the vessel would take. The silence was soon disturbed, however, by a commotion outside on the deck. Pale blue eyes rolled upwards with mild irritation, chin still tipped towards his current task as he idly waited for whatever it was to settle so he didn’t have to intervene. It would not be something that was resolved on its own apparently, made evident when voices chimed outside his door and hurried steps thudded against the wood. One sounded as if it were scrapping and struggling to find purchase, the other planted firmly before the door was pushed open with more force than was necessary. Everett’s eyebrows furrowed in disdain, exasperation felt when he saw Emil step into the cabin. He wasn’t the only one. Within his grasp he had the arm of another man the pirate had never seen before. In the other what he assumed to be some of his belongings.<p>

Those of which were promptly discarded on the floor when the scarred elf dropped them, dark eyes glinting and a sneer painted across his angled features. ‘<i>Bishop found him below decks, cramped up behind some of the planks. I reckon he dug his way in there when we were at port,</i>’ the elf said in hopes of explaining the situation, the one he held captive looking about the cabin and commenting with an almost lordly air to his smooth voice on the ship itself. It earned him an irritated look, a darkened glint sparking within Everett’s eyes as he leaned back slowly in his chair to properly look at the man. ‘<i>Some kind of mage, judging by the shit he had with him,</i>’ Emil offered helpfully, and Everett could see just beyond the open door that some of his crew stood at the ready with blades in hand should this man attempt to try anything. Eyes trailed over the somewhat malnourished frame, musculature still well kept and he couldn’t have been on the ship for long. Dark stubble trailed along his jawline, looking out of place with the coiffed mustache on his upper lip. Some straps crossed over his chest and arm, rendering him otherwise naked from the waist up and Everett wasn’t sure if that was a style thing or functional to whatever he may have been wearing before.<p>

With a slow intake of breath and eyebrows raising eyes moved down to the trousers he wore, a belt holding a dagger that had not been removed and several pouches that looked heavy with whatever was in them. Awkwardly the taller man stood, the one presumed to be a mage, and Everett put his hands upon his desk to push to stand. Fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade that was in its sheath that had been draped over the back of the chair, pulling it out and moving around the desk. The stowaway began to speak again, lips parting and Everett leveled the point of his dagger in his direction. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Not a fucking word out of you,”</strong> he said evenly, accented voice low and calm. Attentions lingered for a moment before shifting to Emil. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Get Bishop, toss him over the side. I will not suffer fools who overlook wasters tucked away on my ship.”</strong> The scarred elf dipped his chin, a hint of a smile upon his lips and a devious look taking over as he eagerly stepped out of the cabin and closed the door behind him. It left Everett alone with the dark-haired man, a delicate chin tilted up in a display of silent defiance. A dangerous look was given him, eyes following the length of his body once more only this time in idle contemplation.<p>

He looked a little worse for wear, although Everett had certainly seen worse. His head tilted, lower lip pulled into his mouth to drag through his teeth though it was a tick of frustration rather than anything else. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Now,”</strong> he said, gaze lifting back to the hazel eyes that glared back, <strong style=color:#8a6992>”what do we do with you, hm?”</strong>. Surprisingly he remained quiet, what little good it would do for him. Calculated steps brought him closer as his head straightened and his chin pulled up, a hand finding the supposed mage’s hip so fingers could curl harshly against it. Bracing his body he pressed the flat of the blade against his thigh, sliding it up with precision until it got beneath the belt and he twisted his wrist, pulling the dagger away to slice through the belt with an aggressive yank. Grabbing it with his other hand it was tossed behind him, clattering to the ground and leaving him fully disarmed now. Everett made a mental note to reprimand the elf for not doing so when he had him in his clutches, though if this man truly is a mage then a little dagger would not be missed.<p>

The rogue planted a hand against the taller man’s bare chest, shoving him bodily against the wall of the cabin and before the other could react the edge of his blade found his throat. Pressing down firmly it forced his chin up slightly, Everett’s pale gaze boring into him with nothing but malice. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here, right now, and toss your body as well so I can get back to what I was doing.”</strong> His voice had grown harsh, a hissing murmur that betrayed his distaste for the one that had been made to disrupt him and his crew. He had dealt with stowaways before, often times more frail and desperate than this one. The unknown man held an air of pomposity that ground against his nerves, and Everett would allow him to speak now if only to satiate a small curiosity as to why he had hidden himself away on the wrong vessel.<p>

Dec 17 2017, 06:24 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 480px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 10px 10px 0px 10px; border: #8a6992 solid 5px; text-align: justify; font-family: Roboto; font-color: #000000; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><center><img src=https://i.imgur.com/s78p2MK.gif><p><i>14 August, 9:33</i></center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;">Anyone with a viable sense of perception could pick up on the rising tension within the tavern. It was a rather shoddy place, all things considered, settled within the deepest dregs of the city of chains that the pirate had cared little to place the name of. Nor did he care much for the people in it, the lot of them wasters and thieves with little tact. Already one of the smaller men had been thrown out by the barkeep, grimy fingers reaching behind the bar when he was distracted to try and nick one of the bottles. Everett huffed into his drink, back propped against the chair that had been tilted back so he could prop his feet on the table. Too bad the perceptions were bogged down by alcohol, though it wasn’t without amusement as the rogue perched himself in the corner to watch. Energy ran freely within him, a gentle buzz of kindling to the flames that resided in his soul that moved in tandem with the handful of drinks he had already prior to the one he held now. With little effort he tracked the movement of a rather burly man from the corner of his eye, heated words exchanged between him and another that was shielded behind his body. He perked up at the mention of a hand off, the two carefully skirting around the subject of the trade but it was enough for Everett to tilt his head in idle interest.<p>

It wasn’t a conversation that lasted long, however, the second Everett heard the pause and mumbled words indicating towards him. Apparently they had not seen him sitting there, nor did he deign to move when the larger man turned his attentions upon him. ‘<i>You ain’t listenin’ in, are you?</i>’ he heard him say, deep baritones grating and raspy. Pale blue eyes shifted from their placement upon the tabletop, rolling to peer up at the one who chose now to loom over him as if he could intimidate him. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Kind of difficult, the way you talk,”</strong> the pirate responded airily, rolling his shoulders and taking another drink. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Rather like hearing the wails of some dying beast.”</strong> Top lip was pulled into his mouth to gather the liquid that remained, a sideways look granting him the irritated visage of the nameless brute upon hearing his words. ‘<i>Think you’re a funny man, do you? Probably won’t think so when I’m done crushing your skull.</i>’ More words, less action, though Everett was not fool enough to make the first strike when time had to be spent in rising to do so. Otherwise it would lack the strength behind it he needed for it to be impactful, so he simply interlaced his fingers over his stomach and stared at the man. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Let’s see it, then. Crush my skull,”</strong> he offered in light tones, chin tilting up as his body relaxed. Instead of doing just that a frustrated noise rose from the dark-haired man’s throat, hand grabbing his boot and yanking until his feet were displaced back upon the tavern floor.<p>

The chair legs came down hard as well, jarring his body and causing irritation of his own to flare to life. Everett’s jaw worked, teeth clacking together when he forced out a bitter laugh. Like a child the bigger human acted, and just like one Everett would teach him his place. Wood scraped against wood audibly, cutting into slurred conversations being had to turn heads as the pirate stood. Ringed fingers curled at his sides, fists unclenching as the deviant began to say something else. Words that would not be completed before Everett sent a fist flying against his face. The contact could be heard, a grunt expelled but before recovery could be made the pirate widened his stance and grabbed the front of the brute’s shirt. Yanking him down just enough to plant his free hand firmly on the back of his neck he sent his face into further damage as it greeted the hard surface of the table. Releasing him when arms went flailing to avoid getting hit himself the rogue stepped back quickly, watching with a grin tugging at his lips as the man staggered. He was trying to reassert himself, spine straightening and blood gushed from a broken nose. His grumbled words went unheard, the rage in his eyes glinting fiercely as they locked onto the pirate. Others began to stand as well, the turn of events knocking the dam down that held back the pent up energy. It caused it to spill forth, the rest of the people seeing it as a cue to release their hold on their self-control towards one another.<p>

Everett ducked away from the swinging arm once more, nearly catching it in his face, though the shove of another behind him caught him off guard. Hands planted harshly against the edge of a table, stabilizing himself so he didn’t fall. It would seem the bastard had some friends, if you could call them that as they watched him get his face smashed. Everett pushed away from the table, regaining the lost ground and jutting his elbow back towards the newcomer’s face. A cry of pain signaled his success, a laugh released that was cut short when the larger man moved with surprising swiftness. Pain exploded throughout the right side of the human’s face, Everett staggering once more with a jaw grown slack. He worked it, the presence of pain slicing evenly through his inebriation. Not that he couldn’t function well enough drunk, he had done it plenty of times. Others had begun to shove each other as well, curt words flowing in to one another until it was a garbled din of noise. Everett threw himself forward, a kick aimed for the man's knee that earned a gasp of pain. The punch to his gut doubled him over, and the pirate grabbed his dark hair to yank him down once more so that his own knee could meet his face.

He was down and out after that, someone crashing over a table and sending mugs of liquor sprawling over the ground among the writhing bodies. Everett's own adversary groaned where he had fallen heavily, though the victory did not get felt long before weight slammer against his side and sent him flat on the ground. The air was knocked from his lungs, arms lifting to deflect any blows to the face from the person who pulled him over to straddle him. It left his torso open, several short jabs to the ribs racking his body and he drew in a sharp breath through bloodied teeth. He hadn't even realized that his lip had split. Blindly he grabbed at the man cursing above him, a hand finding his face and digging fingers into his eyes. He screamed, a sound that pierced the chaos and Everett laughed. Beginning to sit up the pressure intensified, though he went no further and couldn't see the damage before shoving him away and twisting around so he could push himself to stand. The pirate spat out the blood, unable to contain the blatant amusement at the sight of others having joined in on the fighting. His current attacker finally found his footing as well, and it was then he could see the assaulted eye closed against the stinging he had caused. Yet he still wanted to fight, and Everett turned to him with almost a dramatic flair. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Looks like that hurt.”</strong><p>

The rage in his eyes was obvious, adrenaline coursing through the rogue as he slapped away the wrist of the hand coming towards him. Everett shoved him as he tripped by, though unfortunately he didn't fall. It put him by the door, which not moments later shoved open and slammed right against him. He didn't recover from that one and actually did fall that time. Everett grinned, debating if he wanted to kick him while he was down. The door obstructed any sight of who had just begun to step through, though it didn't stop him from calling out, <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Good one. Shoulda seen the look on his face.”</strong> One of which now had become disoriented, both of his eyes shut tightly now and a hand rubbing at his head where it collided with the wooden floor. Everett's ribs smarted where he had been punched, a sensation dulled by the adrenaline and he hoped whoever just entered the fray could handle their own. They certainly had poor timing.<p>

Dec 16 2017, 01:43 PM
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<center><b>Mature Content Warning</b>
This thread may contain sensitive subject matter including but not limited to strong language, blood, violence, substance use, nudity, and/or suggestive themes.
<i>Content Tags: Blood, Body Horror, Sexual Themes</i></center>


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</center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;"> They hadn’t anticipated the amount of guards they would be faced with when entering the estate. It was supposed to be a relatively easy robbery, the noble who owned it away on some venture when they arrived at the seaside city. Right now, however, it was not proving to be easy. Everett managed to strike down one of the more forward ones, the smaller man beside him cutting another and sending him reeling back against the wall of the hallway they were pinched into. Pale blue eyes were wide and watchful, tracking the movements of the swords leveled at them and the feet that carried the defenders as they shuffled ever closer. So much so that he and the doctor were almost pressed together, losing ground and the ability to maneuver quickly. He could hear the fighting behind him, rapid strikes of metal against metal ringing through the corridor. The other fought tenaciously, more than the human had ever seen before in their skirmishes. Given the circumstances it made sense, Everett lunging forward to parry the blow one of the guards attempted to land upon him. The sword swung away, leaving an opening, and before the man could recover Everett sank his dagger into the guard’s throat. Blood sprayed, the warmth of it soaking into the sleeve of his arm where it landed. It left his own side open, an opportunity not missed by one of the bastards. Everett could not withdraw in time, the tear of cloth audible along with the sharp inhale of air through gritted teeth when the sword sliced his side.<p>

Pain flared to life, reaching scathing fingers throughout his nerves but it was not without retaliation when Everett swung his own blade. With satisfaction it drew across the man’s throat, the human wincing against the thick liquid that found itself upon his face. The doctor behind him let out a short grunt, the scuffle behind him drawing his attention if only briefly to see the other pirate had gotten a rather nasty cut on his arm. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”You alright?”</strong> he asked as an afterthought, the smaller man giving an affirmation though it contrasted with the suddenly concerned look his face twisted into. It wasn’t pain, not really, something like fear and desperation lingering within it. A common reaction, if it had been anyone else but the doctor he had come to know. Everett frowned, attentions brought back to the remaining three guards on his side when movement caught his eye. The rogue ducked to the side, barely getting his arm up to ward off the oncoming attack. With force he fell back against the wall, blood from the cut on his side oozing down his hip and thigh. It smarted, Everett’s lip curling in disdain and irritation when he pushed off the wall with a burst of energy and crashed into the guard. It wasn’t just an arm braced upon him that drove him against the opposite side of the hallway, dagger sinking into his gut only to be removed and stabbed forward again and again.<p>

An eerie green glow flared up to paint the walls, Everett letting the limp body slide down to the floor as he turned to find the source. Tendrils of ominous smoke coiled from the wound Malphus had suffered, something darker than blood moving in a slow trickle towards his dropped hand before the other came to slap hurriedly over the afflicted area. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Bloody hell,”</strong> he breathed, not even hearing what Malphus had said. He could see a grin splitting his lips in a toothy smile when his eyes found his face again, though despite the amused expression there was frustration. A docile façade dropping away to reveal one far from agony and more towards something maniacal. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”What the fuck?”</strong> A question uttered without thinking, though the stupor he found himself in would not last long before the opportunity of downed defenses was seized by one of the guards. His vision became blurred when the body collided with his own and the world churned, the both of them sprawling on the ground and it was a miracle that his dagger didn't fly out of his hand.<p>

The wound upon his side only seemed to worsen with the constant motion, Everett grimacing and twisting against the guard that was trying to subdue him. His attentions were split two ways, absently watching the doctor cutting his way out all the while gaining leverage to throw off the unwanted pressure. He did just that with a deft kick, wasting no time in regaining lost ground as he picked himself up. At this point the back of the smaller man was disappearing down the hallway, more than shock climbing to the forefront of his mind. Anger found its place next, the ones he was left with worse for wear. Four of them stood standing, converging on either side of him and Everett tentatively touched at his side to assess the damage. His hand came away drenched in red and he cursed, keeping his back to the wall to put them all in his sights. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Come on, then,”</strong> he goaded, voice harsh and biting as his stance widened. If he was to get out of this alive he needed to act quickly, the tear in his side already beginning to take its toll. The betrayal ran rampant in his mind, twisted now to carry him through what remained of this fight. Collectively two of them moved in tandem, one with a dagger and another with a sword, though their determination was met only with empty air. In confusion their momentum faltered, Everett reappearing behind them and already embedding his weapon into his back before any of the others could retaliate. The man cried out, collapsing while Everett set to work dispatching the other one.<p>

It gained him a fairly decent punch to the face, knuckles colliding with his left cheek and sending him reeling the other way. Everett staggered, a grunt escaping him as pain exploded throughout his skull, and he could feel that the skin had split upon impact. Above his eye, threatening to send forth a thin line of blood that would impair his sights. An arm lifted to swipe at it, smearing the scarlet upon the sleeve of his shirt while his other hand tossed the dagger up to catch it by the blade. Not a word was said before he drew it back and threw it as precisely as he could, aiming for the face and only somewhat satisfied when it buried itself in his throat instead. He would have preferred the face. Eyes flashed, the adrenaline beginning to ebb away with each pulse of a thrumming heart that pushed out more blood. They found the guard, a younger one who looked a touch more wary than the others. Everett could see his hand trembling and it wasn’t from his own anger. His breaths came out in short pants, and the rogue rolled his shoulders as he turned to him and tipped his chin. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Best flee before you end up like your buddies,”</strong> he tried, eyebrows lifting. It tugged at the cut, the human fighting against the wince and with relief the other man surrendered.<p>

Tightly clenched fingers uncurled, the guard dropping his sword with an echoing sound as hands rose with palms displayed. Wisely the pirate was kept within his sights even as he backed away, though as he disappeared around the corner Everett allowed himself a moment. Shoulders sagged and his body with them, favoring one side as he got a proper look at the damage. Without further thought the soaked dagger was angled so the point could lift the cloth of his shirt from his shoulder so he could cut it. Tucking the weapon back in its sheath fingers gripped the fabric and jerked down, tearing it audibly, intentions placed in staunching the bleeding as much as he could. It needed stitched, that much was certain, but he would worry about that later. Pressing the cloth against the wound he could hear the blood squelch, face twitching in pain and he clenched his jaw against it when he tied it securely about his narrow waist. Several muttered curses beneath his haggard breath spurned him forward, moving away from the wall to navigate through the manor.<p>

Blood stained the floors, slick underfoot and Everett nearly slipped once or twice making his way out of the corridor and into the foyer. Some of his crewmates laid lifeless among the guards, and it was clear that they had been tipped off. Even more betrayal that darkened his eyes, features a display of disgust for it could be none other than one of their own that had sold them out. Even more twisted was Malphus, the skeevy doctor clearly not what he had seemed to be, and the eagerness to sink his blade into his throat gave him the energy to pull the doors open and step into the night. Sweat lathered his body, blood loss setting in and causing his skin to grow clammy and lose color. He could see it when hands reached out to find purchase on anything that would help keep him upright, piercing eyes turning to the sound of the crashing waves to see the ship being readied for departure. Saving the breath that had begun to grow shallow the rogue descended the dirt pathway, the anxious shouts of the crew rising into his senses in his approach. One of the pirates saw him, a satchel in hand he was about to hand off to another to take upon the ship, and he seemed rather surprised to see him. Everett barely paid him any mind, even when his eyes dropped to see the splash of scarlet soaking through the strip of cloth and moving towards him with words of false concern.<p>

The human sneered, shoving against his chest and alighting upon the ramp. With difficulty he pulled himself onto the ship, letting out a strained breath and taking a moment to gather himself as much as his body would allow. His eyes scanned the faces that turned to look at him, some in confusion and others in relief, and that only served to further his ire. That <i>thing</i> must have told them he had perished back in the estate. None of those that approached him were the one he sought, and so with an absent grunt in response booted feet stomped over the wooden deck towards the side of the cabin where he knew the doctor would be. Muffled voices could be heard behind the door, Everett not caring who else was in there the second he heard Malphus speak up. The door banged against something behind it, forced momentum causing Everett to brace against the threshold. His head dipped, eyes settling upon the doctor who was tending to one of the crew. His arm had been bandaged, not a single trace of that ghastly green smoke in sight. Everett shoved away from the doorway and crossed the space between them. A hand slapped against the front of the beast’s shirt, bunching it to get a decent grip and haul the smaller man up and slam him against the wall. His bare arm curled against Malphus’ chest, Everett’s chin lowering to level the man with a scathing look. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Get out,”</strong> he hissed to the other one in the room, protests made silenced with a motion from the doctor.<p>

Everett was not under any illusion that the thing before him fell prey to his strength for it had waned considerably yet he didn’t care, weight leaning against Malphus as his other hand itched to reach for the dagger. He could hear the door being closed when the other pirate shuffled out of the room, pale blue eyes narrowing as he searched the smug features of his quarry. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”What the fuck are you?”</strong> he asked bluntly, voice quiet and calm though it contrasted with the look of hatred his gaze harbored. Despite earlier thoughts coaxing him to gouge Malphus’ throat they seemed to quiet now, grip still established upon his shirt in a vain attempt to keep him where he was. In his search to learn more about what had happened to his mother and older sister he had come across various descriptions of the Fade and the beasts that dwelled within. What he had seen pouring from the wound now contained coincided with some of the writings, but he wasn’t for certain. It had been brief and fleeting, which he assumed was the point, and Everett was still unsure what to make of it. All he knew is that Malphus had time to speak his mind before the rogue would cut his words as easily as he would his throat. That is, if he could muster the strength to do so. Bold thoughts that perhaps might not translate to action if he didn’t get the cut dealt with. At the very least he would try to take the thing down with him.<p>

Dec 2 2017, 03:26 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 480px; background-color: #ffffff; padding: 10px 10px 0px 10px; border: #8a6992 solid 5px; text-align: justify; font-family: Roboto; font-color: #000000; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><center><img src=https://i.imgur.com/fq4LYCP.gif><p><i>18 Justinian, 9:41</i></center><div style="width: 462px; padding: 0px 10px 10px 10px;"> The inhabitants of the castle were in a tense stir, many of those left behind on edge even moreso now than before the Inquisition forces had charged off with their leader at the forefront. From the whispers and blatant conversation Everett could piece together their intentions, often steering away from such things. On the water he had little to worry about in regards to demons and even though the hole in the sky could be seen from every corner of Thedas not even that swayed his intentions. The rogue had grown somewhat stir crazy, judgment avoided with the words the Champion had given as well as the Commander who had left with the others to lead the army. It left the pirate with little else to do, a scarce cluster of useless men and women standing about Skyhold with no clue what to do with the absence of orders. A pity, really, that he found himself among them. He could have joined them in their half-assed attempt to fight back against the threat that loomed over them, but he held little interest in helping. He would rather sit back and not provide fodder that would get tossed aside beneath the demons and other atrocious things they readily flung themselves at. Of course, it added the unfortunate existence of not knowing what to do. The Champion had gone and so did Fenris, although Everett was unsure of where the elf went. Even Varric had turned to his own devices, and so attentions were forced elsewhere.<p>

And that they were, Everett purposefully striding towards the barracks and shoving his way through the door. It turned some heads, recruits busying themselves with their weapons as they idled about uselessly. They had been deemed unfit to join the others, left behind in favor for more experienced fighters taking their place and it could be seen upon their faces. So eager to throw their lives away for a wasted cause, attempting to do something worthwhile with the time they were granted despite how uncertain it was. Several days had passed already since the Inquisitor left with her pathetic group, Everett finding some bitter amusement at the revelation of the mages Hawke was forced into fighting alongside. The rogue eyed one of the men who was sharpening his blade as if he were going to use it, booted feet carrying him closer and before the younger man could react he reached and snatched the sword from his lap. ‘<i>What do you think you’re doing?</i>’ he hissed in irritation, standing immediately even when Everett took a step back and eyed the blade. It was hefty, too heavy for his liking, but he turned it around all the same as if he were truly concerned in its quality. Eyebrows rose and he pointed the sword at the recruit who stopped his advance, dark eyes glinting as fingers curled at his sides.<p>

<strong style=color:#8a6992>”Think you’ll be able to use this someday?”</strong> he asked bluntly, tilting his head slightly as he looked away from the sword and leveled the nameless warrior with a devious look. The corners of his lips twitched upwards with the phantom of a smile, pale gaze narrowing as he sized up the man. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”I bet you’ll die a less than honorable death, and it won’t even be in battle,”</strong> he continued, taking a step backwards when the frustrated warrior began to approach again. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”You’ll be gallivanting down the mountains thinkin’ you’re about go do something important and fall to your death.”</strong> The image amused him, the smile stretching into a grin when the warrior lunged for him. Everett had little experience with swords, but he had some in footwork and it was easy to dodge and turn the stolen weapon until the flat of it smacked against his back. The man stumbled, though surprisingly did not fall with the momentum and when he turned to him the look he gave had darkened considerably.<p>

‘<i>Give me the sword back,</i>’ was all he said, words ground out through a clenched jaw. The others were stirring at the commotion, beginning to rise and see what the fuss was about. Everett shrugged and hefted the sword instead. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Take it, then.”</strong> With a huff the recruit began to circle him in the small space, eyeing him with intent and Everett matched his steps though made sure to keep the others in his sights. ‘<i>Maker, you are relentless,</i>’ he snapped, ire sparked and it would be his downfall. That is, if this were a serious encounter. Everett could only laugh. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Don’t think the Maker is helping you out here,”</strong> he replied evenly, and the recruit moved with sudden swiftness towards him. Everett tossed the blade aside, hands freed and as a fist sailed towards his face the rogue ducked to the side. Grabbing his wrist he guided the warrior away from him with a forceful shove against his back with his other hand. He stumbled again as Everett stepped back, palms raised when the others began to make their way towards them after deciding to finally step in. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Easy now, boys, just a bit of fun I’m havin’ is all,”</strong> he offered with falsely placating tones, the others taking the surrender with a few sharp words.<p>

They fell on deaf ears, the assaulted recruit rotating the shoulder that had been hit with the shove and glaring at him. ‘<i>Watch your back, pirate,</i>’ he seethed, and Everett gave him a wink before stepping over to where some of the weapons were displayed. Eyeing the meager selection he plucked two daggers from their placement and sheathed them where his own should have been. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Looking forward to it,”</strong> he hummed, giving them a mocking salute before ducking out before they could retaliate. Stepping back out into the courtyard Everett could hear the gates being opened, jumbled sentences rising from the lower levels as someone was received into the stronghold. Curiously the rogue stepped to the edge of the stone that lined the steps down, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Fenris coming through with that faithful mabari and a red-haired woman in tow. They looked a little worse for wear, even standing this far away, and the amusement found him once more. The white-haired elf made his way over to one of the tents set up for the healers, looking just as distressed as when he left.<p>

So many things seemed to factor into that, the majority of it stemming from the absence of the Champion, but it would seem something more immediate was the cause. Everett began to descend the steps as the two disappeared into one of the tents, whoever he had been with trailing off in a different direction. The human cared little for her, however, and as he approached the tent he could hear the healer telling the white-haired elf to hold still. A hand lifted to pull the fabric aside, Everett stepping through to see the healer seated before him with hands wavering over some scrapes and bruises. He seemed a little miffed, and as a faint light glowed beneath his hands Everett scowled. Those hands were shaking slightly, and the pirate closed the distance to cuff the mage on the back of the head. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”Mind your hands before you make it worse,”</strong> he growled, the healer startling at the action and fixing him with a glare over his shoulder as his shoulders tensed. He seemed to get the hint, however, and turned back to Fenris with determination.<p>

Everett straightened his back, expression softening at the sight of Hades lounging at the elf’s feet with his tongue hanging from his shortened muzzle. The rogue knelt down, Hades lifting his head and graciously accepting the scratching fingers that found his clipped ears and rubbed at his shoulders. Turning his gaze upon the lyrium-marked warrior Everett grinned. <strong style=color:#8a6992>”What the hell happened to you? I thought you were just going to pick flowers,”</strong> he laughed as he looked up at him, Hades panting as he turned his head against him when he touched on a desired spot along his back.<p>

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