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dragon age - { dream x ace }

"Inappropriate, yes," Jericho agreed. Swimming back, he caught glances of Ammon washing and fleetingly wondered why the men of the clan treated her simply as a warrior. She was a beautiful woman and had survived the change nicely; being a warrior helped add to shapely muscles and tight skin-- Jericho turned away before he thoughts got carried away. Unlike the rest of the men, Jericho knew self restraint and knew how to treat a woman like both a warrior and a lady.

Dunking his head in the water, he did the best he could to clean and rinse his hair. Unlike most weres, Jericho still believed in cleanliness and was pleased to see Ammon did as well. There were others, he was sure, who bathed regularly but he doubted any of them continued the habits they had formed during their human lives. Though Jericho could not remember much from those days, he had kept the routine going for years and not altered it much. With his own soaps, no where near as nice as Ammon's, he cleaned himself thoroughly while humming lightly.

Once he was done, he pulled himself from the water and dressed quickly, giving his head a good shake to get most of the water out. Looking forward to the night out with Ammon, he waited for her at the edge of the cavern, giving her privacy to dress.
 



    • Never before had she felt so refreshed. Her body was purged of any sullied anomalies; her skin was treated and moisturized and her face was no longer sullied her stained with dirt. Rather then change into her traditional armor - which was a customized leather set - she adorned much more casual clothing which consisted of a coal-colored fitted tunic and a pair of sand colored leggings she drummed up from one of the other females living on the upper floors.

      The bottom corridors weren't as well kept as the others but they were certainly livable. Warriors and those who did not want to be disturbed were housed her. Silently, the lycan woman directed Jericho to the end of the corridor and town a tiny flight of stone stairs where her chamber was positioned. Before she hollowed it out there used to be a set of bookshelves and a questionable looking alter in it. She removed all of them - including the alter - and relocated it in an uninhabited chamber to the south end of the ruin.

      She gently popped open the door, letting it swing for an instant before she stepped in. The chamber was sizable; it contained a comfortable looking cot lined with fresh linens, a hearth for cooking and other such things. A tiny beam of dark light leered in through the ceiling - there was a crack, a very apparent throng of stones which had been missing and undoubtedly served as Ammon's window. She made it apparent on several occasions that she was claustrophobic and often refused to sleep in any windowless vistas. Also, reflecting on a visit to the Deep Roads when she was human was exceptionally painful.

      "Here." She strode over to the hearth where a long-necked bottle sat, unscathed from the elements and well cared for. It was a potent ale though a smidgen balmy; she believed he'd still drink it regardless.

      [/list:u][/list:u]
 
Ammon's care for her room told Jericho of her individuality, a trait far few possessed. It was much easier to be herded than to think on one's own. Invited in, he wandered aimlessly through the small room, hands neatly clasped behind his back. Damp ringlets hung over the marred part of his face, hiding it almost entirely. He gave her an apologetic smile with a lift of his shoulders. "I've a confession to make. Alcohol and I have never quite seen eye to eye." He did not to insult Ammon; the truth of the matter was, he had vowed many years ago to never touch the liquid again. A human's creation and a human's failing. "In truth, spending an evening with you sober sounds much more appealing than intoxicated."

It was obvious in his open demeanor that he meant what he said. Himself not a liar, he did find certain facts unnecessary for other's ears and kept those silent; time had told him this was the safest path to lead. Taking it in stride, he kept things simple. His reasons for disliking alcohol were his own. Sharing the story would only bring back unwanted feelings.
 


    • Appealing? Maybe Jericho had sneaked a swig of bourbon when she wasn't looking. Ammon thought of herself as monotonous and uninteresting while the other members of the pack believed the complete opposite. They viewed her as complex and extremely intriguing, often wondering what she would do to avoid solve a problem. "I won't pry, then," she uttered lowly while leering down at the bottle held loosely in her palm. She had dazed off for an instant, her eyes probing the smooth, lacquer sensation of the glass. Without much further waiting she removed the cork by driving a claw into the cork and prying it out with little to no effort. Much like a hungering drunk would, she pressed the rim to her mouth and let her lips molest it.

      The flavor hit her like a wave of potent spices. She'd undoubtedly be starry eyed after this little encounter with alcohol but at that very instant, she didn't care. War was slowly yet surely finding its way to her peoples' homestead and threatening not only their numbers, but their very way of life itself. That night she'd rest well after some "casual discussion" with her newly found companion Jericho. She began to realize he wasn't as foul was previously believed, much to her glowering chagrin of course.

      Ammon paused for an instant, ready to reply to his unexpected utterance only to be interrupted by an overwhelming presence.

      A man stood within the doorframe, peeling back the tattered ecru drape which served as a privacy barrier. His flossy green eyes scanned the room and pitted themselves directly upon Jericho. A grunt came from his mouth; the tattoo consuming a hefty portion of his chiseled visage gave him that much more of an intimidating glow. "Who are you?" His voice was unwaveringly deep, like the goddess of earth herself had crafted it. It was booming, enough to even move Ammon who seemed overtly attached to her half-consumed bottle of Orlesian wine. "I don't appreciate other men being inside of Ammon's quarters." The behemoth man approached Jericho, leaning down to stare the man in his eyes.

      The man was Asher Fern, a notorious red-headed goliath with an equally as ardent temper. He promised himself to Ammon after she saved his life and had been adamant about becoming her mate ever since. He took a silent vow to serve her every whim and answer her if ever she had need to sate her "primal needs". Many other women begged to bed him - both because of his apparent mirth and his genes which would produce a healthy lycan child - but he refused, mentioning that Ammon was the only woman he would lay with. "Asher, Jericho. Jericho, Asher," she hummed while continuing to chip away at the wine left in the bottle. "So you're the tyrant? Why are you in Ammon's room? And you've given her alcohol? There are plenty of other women here for you to play with. I care not who you are or where you're from ... I will cut off your head and throw it to the humans as a testament to your demise."[/list:u][/list:u]
 
The other man's rancid scent filled Jericho's nostrils and he all but sneezed on the man. Covering his mouth with an apologetic sheen in his eyes, Jericho muttered, "Pardon me." For some reason, one Jericho had a hard time fathoming, this man was under the impression Ammon belonged to him. A shame really; women were not possessions one could own. They were free to make their own choices and by the weeks spent with Ammon, he could confidently speculate she was not interested in the arrangement Asher was offering her. Asher obviously had no respect for women and that was something Jericho was not fond of. Men taking advantage of women. Men were not dominate over them. All were equal and all were to be treated with respect.

It was apparent by his stature, and his comment, that this Asher did not play well with the other weres. Jericho was not frightened, in fact, he was slightly amused. A soft smile coiled the edges of his lips and he wondered absently what this man thought he could do. A fight would be unorthodox, but Jericho would not back down if that is what it came to. He would, however, avoid it as best he can. He felt no need to answer to any of the man's questions and accusations, only his final words.

"I would love to see you try," Jericho said with the faintest smile. Having said it, Jericho knew this would provoke the man. Perhaps it was a fight he wanted after all.
 


    • Simply being provoked drove Asher to kill. He lunged forward and had prepared to attack Jericho when Ammon intervened. She placed a somber hand on the giant's shoulder; he withdrew and stood erect, glancing down at the woman who seemed evidently charmed by the virtually empty bottle of Orlesian wine. "I'm ... I ... I apologize." He seemed rather embarrassed by his choice to dabble in his primal urges.

      Ammon dismissed him with a mere wave of her hand, smiling as she did so. Asher groaned. "Do you need anything? Food? Blankets? It's rather hawkish out tonight; Autumn has indeed found its way." His tone was much tamer this time around. Ammon shook her head as if to kindly decline his offer. He nodded and excused himself from the chamber but not before giving Jericho a challenging leer. Before addressing the issue, Ammon placed the empty bottle gingerly on a bookless bookstand and plucked another from its perch.

      She couldn't kick the ardent, tangy sensation from her mind; her tongue groped for more, begging her to replenish the sensations it felt.

      Inadvertently she was glad Jericho hadn't wanted any. More for her after all. "Please ... don't provoke him," she uttered breathlessly. "He may seem easily provoked and a slave to his temper but he's a powerful man. It's best to leave him be; the last time someone upset him he tore through the ruins and made quite a mess. We were sweeping up snapped pillars for days." She then remained silent for a moment, letting the fresh liquid spritz into her mouth. "But, Jericho. This invasion ... I was told earlier by one of the werewolf criers that the humans' attacks have been growing increasingly taxing. I have reason to believe they're merely testing the waters but it's virtually impossible to tell if they'll genuinely attack or not."

      She turned her head to catch beams of natural light spiral down through the open portion of the ceiling which displayed the trees' canopies and the few fruits they bore. She retook her position on her cot and curled her toes while watching Jericho guilelessly. With her free hand she let it roam through her mane while her hazel eyes probed the muscular man adjacent to her. "I just want to see this all end so ... I can see the smiles of all of the people; have them know that it's safe for them to expose themselves and to live simple lives."

      [/list:u][/list:u]
 
Jericho watched the man leave with nothing short of a smile though the man still glowered. Ammon had not even said a word to the man, yet he had yielded. Interesting indeed. He wondered what it was that caused him to follow the woman so when it was clear she did not want to held down by any man. An intriguing situation, but it was none of his business. Instead of asking, he returned his gaze to Ammon, who then made her way to the cot.

She changed the topic, naturally, but he went with the flow it. She was concerned for her people, something he could very well understand. Clasping his hands together in front of himself, he intertwined his fingers, saying, "It does appear the humans have been testing our fear of them; they have been venturing deeper and deeper into the woods. Why, I'm not sure, but I intend to find out. I am planning to sneak into town sometime soon. Perhaps you would care to accompany me? I can teach you to mask your scent, as well as what you are, so you will appear to be human to their eyes. There, we will be able to hear of their plans and do what we can from there."

It was a simple enough trick. He was positive Ammon would be able to master the skill. Jericho need only place a small bit of power into her from himself and warp it into her, from there she would be able to control it and mask her nature. Personally Jericho detested using the spell and never enjoyed his days masquerading as a human, but it was a necessary step to obtain an upper hand on the humans. If they wanted to stop the humans, they would need to know them as well as each other.
 
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