#+ // threads / harrow & illia / i am the silver in your blades i am the wings on your shield.

[thedaschosen]

IN DEATH, SACRIFICE. // TALES OF THEDAS

( ⌺ ) // NOT SOON ENOUGH, GREY WARDEN (@scvcnofswords ). " HARROW ?! " the hilts of illia's blades feel heavy in her calloused palm. the called warden's voice was choked from the air just moment's before. bellara had already been taken -- ripped from them in the blink of an eye -- blame had already begun to settle in illia's chest, now it fuses with heated panic. splitting the team had been harrow's suggestion -- and it had worked well. until now. " THEY HEAR YOU NOT. " the serpent form of ghillin'nain sweeps between the clouds of fog, only glimpse being caught between the opaque waves of mist -- illia hoping that she feels the rage of her molten yellow eyes, even just a singe to understand what kind of fate lay before the corrupted god and her counterpart. then again -- the crow hoped she knew that the moment she was impaled with a ballista bolt from her own hands. her team fight with singing blades and screaming magic against emerging blighted opponents as ghillin'nain's voice booms across stone. it's not long until they cut their way through the blight. " SO FEW OF YOU REMAIN ... "

davrin and emmrich fork at illia's side. all eyes scanning the towers and infestation of blight that curls around them -- writhing and alive. pulsing with an energy that rots the very air -- yet it infects and lives within flesh. an insatiable parasite that always seeks more. to consume. " SMALL ... " brows furrow, wide eyed golden gaze flickering to her left. " emmrich ?? " illia calls out to the empty space -- her voice echoing back in the mocking silence.

" DESPERATE ... "

" davrin ... " her team was gone. she stands alone in the clouded mist -- adjusting her blades in her palms, ignoring the tremors that began to sink into her bones.

" FEARFUL. " ghillin'nain curves and rises above -- finally revealing herself. her damaged bronze crescent moon headdress prominent and bold against the silver blues of fog. tendrils flowing outward like a flare of a dress -- ready to grasp and strike, to continue the warp of life into living death.

" FOR YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS, LITTLE ROOK, YOU FACE A GOD ALONE. "

she sees it then -- within the weaving mass of ghillin'nain's forever growing plague, there lies her companions. emmrich, davrin, lucanis, and harrow. all tangled in her grotesque web. eyes dart back and forth, following the links of blight illia has begun to navigate at a high speed. she has to free them. without a team -- this won't work. while she would gladly suck in any fearful breaths and attempt to handle ghillin'nain herself -- illia needed the other's support for this. with her agility and senses, she twirls and strikes at core bulbs of blight. the connections severing with shrills and shrieks of wrathful agony. harrow & davrin are back into battle first, the two being the closest in range, the trio of wardens & crow easily connecting with syngery -- all deciding to split the battlefield into sections. the more hands they have, the better chance they'll get -- and they need a certain demon possessed crow back. feet are quick and blades quicker, eyes focused and strict -- hitting every mark she intends to across blighted flesh -- dark blooded ichor staining stone, dyed leather, and armor. she and her companions are lucky none greets their mouths with its parasitic plagued kiss. with a sharp stab, lucanis' prison shrills with defeat -- the tendril releasing the assassin as it hisses away back into the growing fog. sharpened lyrium finds the demon of vyrantium's hands again. time is ticking. " lucanis ! i've got you -- " words are swallowed in a sharp inhale of breath and a short shrilled scream as the retreating tendril wraps around illia's calf -- dragging her down across grey ragged stone. it's not long until she is face to face with her captor. even entrapped, illia still has thrashes of fight in her. " BEHOLD, YOUR CURRENT AGE ! FRAGILE. AIMLESS. LOST ! " skeletal wings of violet spite unfurl, gaining the advantage of higher ground. another seeks this same advantage -- coarse palms gripping onto stone brick as they climb olde ruins of a time long past. ghillin'nain's grotesque focus tunneled upon rook as she continues to droll. leaving time for harrow to twirl their weapon in preparation as they stand at the ready -- boring holes into the corrupted god's back. " you and elgar'nan are trapped by the past -- just like solas ! " illia spits back, " you had your chance ! each one of you ! " a breath wavers between dry lips, sneering at the bronze face before her, " and we don't owe you a damn thing. " lucanis swoops forward, blue blade ready to strike into the rotting heart of ghillin'nain -- but with a flick of a gnarled wrist, a blighted tentacle imprisons him again. snaking and constricting limb by limb. illia beginning to become enwrapped within the same horrific fleshy serpent. she then hears the soft breath of a whisper -- not loud enough to decipher. but as ghillin'nain's form curves just right -- illia can see the words in harrow's face.

like i promised, whatever it takes. harrow's glaive strikes true, piercing ghillin'nain as it javelins through the air. the warden follows suite with their weapon -- grasping the pole arm and twisting the blade deeper into writhing skin with a sickening squelch. ghilin'nain roars in outrage, focus shifting once again -- despising that crimson bleeds from her once more. illia hisses, attempting to get free once more -- but the counteracting strike is faster than intended. a hoarse choke meddled with blood spits from harrow's darkened lips. a violent rushed chill of shock and fear envelops illia, eyes widening at the sight of harrow's body being struck by ghillin'nain. " HARROW ! " illia screams, despising how helplessness weighs at her chest -- weakens her bones -- seeing how her trusted and adored friend falls into the depths of the red blight below. but the distraction is enough for lucanis to plunge death into the heart of the towering god with a shrilling cry of agony. illia is thrown in the writhing pain and end of ghillin'nain -- tumbling to the ground with a huff of impact. the crow scrambles to her feet, staring as the abnormal figure of the god begins to be enrapt with the blue glow of lyrium. she doesn't register much -- her ears still ringing as sound is deaf to her. she moves with lucanis' guiding hand -- her eyes still focused upon the blighted hole in the ground. she realizes she will never see harrow's face again. nor their laugh or smile. they will never be able to bury them. it's not until energy rips through the air, knocking the breath out of illia with the shock wave burst, does her mind sharpen back into focus. they would have to grieve later. for thedas is still on their shoulders.

[thedaschosen]

( ⌺ ) // ELEGANT HILTS TWIRL ON HER PALMS AND BLADES FLASH. a laugh chimes from her briefly -- her body twirls through the air, a beauteous whirlwind of knives as she cuts through a venatori rogue -- quick enough to slash through their defenses -- quick enough to catch them off guard, to know the flow of the smoke before they appear.

" i'd love to ! hell, you could start a tab if you want ! " illia jokes, her voice carrying over the sound of combat, spitted curses, and clanging metal. she dodges with a flutter of feathers-- the long distance range of another mage, burying himself within his group of venatori goons, the attack barely making its target. burning golden eyes lock onto her target, turning with a whip of silver white hair. steps are quick, pushing off from the ground and into the air -- he feather patterned cloak spreading like wings as she plucks grenades from her belt, the small rounded items between her fingers. in an 'x' her arms cross over the bottom half of her face before blade wielding palms swipe out -- a scattering of explosions pummel the group with a maraud of screams, all falling like pins. illia huffs as her feet hit the ground again, whipping her head to scan the remaining area. a brooding presence then emerges on the battlefield. " shit ... emissary ! "

"I owe you one" from @thedaschosen || illia de riva + harrow thorne

Harrow grins as they use their shield to shove back the venatori cultist that had been lunging for Illia's blind spot. The bastard gives a frustrated yell as he loses his footing- and it's cut off entirely by Harrow's raider-axe separating his head from his shoulders. Spinning, they launch their shield at another, hand flashing up to catch the disk of metal as the enchantment on it sends it spinning back, and the momentum of that is used so that they can roll and surge into the crowd of remaining foes.

"Yeah, you do!" They call cheerfully over their shoulder to the blonde crow. "You can buy me a one of those- chocolate drinks from Treviso later, and I'll call it even." The Warden gives a wild grin- and then surges forward, using themselves as a veritable battering ram against the next overconfident venatori.

"Maybe two," they say as they drive their boot into a blood mage's rubs, sending them flying. "But I'm sure we'll all owe one another by the time we're through, so don't worry about it too much!"

[thedaschosen]

100 NON VERBAL PROMPTS  / ACCEPTING /  @scvcnofswords  asked :  ∗ 83﹕ sender  is  discovered  having  a  panic  attack  by  receiver . (harrow and illia)

( ⌺ ) // THE ISLE OF THE GODS HAD GIVEN MORE PROBLEMS THAT SOLUTIONS. despite the defeat of two dragons -- one giant monstrous one had taken their place. they were running out of time, and the pressure was beginning to press its weight upon the veilguard. illia makes her way across the courtyard -- despite the lighthouse not necessarily changing all that much with the usual night and day cycle, there's a particular chill that lingers in the air when night is supposed to flood overhead. her spine shivers, palms rubbing at the base of her arms to find some warmth in the friction. with the doused lamps, she knows everyone is asleep. upon stepping into the kitchens however, she realizes she is not the only one awake. labored breathing is the first thing that hits her ears -- each breath hitting the stone floors and walls. visually, she cannot see who it is until she walks further into the room -- just catching the glimpse of harrow wrapped in a blanket in the corner nearest the fire.

" shit -- " illia is quick, hurrying over and crouching at the other's side. " harrow ? harrow -- look at me. " this felt similar to the waking nightmares harrow had described weeks and weeks ago -- a part of her wonders if davrin is experiencing the same thing now. then again, every warden was affected differently. " it's okay -- you're here and safe. i promise. i'm here. " it's a soft attempt to try and ground the distressed warden, a hesitant hand reaching out to place upon their arm with a concerned frown.

[thedaschosen]

( ⌺ ) // IT'S NOT DIFFICULT FOR HER TO TRAVERSE THE ROCKY LANDSCAPE. while more adept in the plains of rooftops and buildings -- taking the title of "rook" quickly made them adapt to other terrains. bellara and davrin are close behind -- she felt selfish in a way in choosing to keep davrin close. the charming warden had stolen her heart. it was a close call with both harrow, harding, and himself offering to fill the role of the distraction party. all qualified -- all more than skilled to handle the job. but, she had decided harrow to lead the charge. she saw harrow as strong, formidable -- a steel wall. they would be able to handle this. ( they would be able to handle this, right ? )

" keep low. " illia states over her shoulder, coming up to the top of one of the cliff edges. carefully, she unsheathes her blades -- singing silver. steadying her breathing, her approach is careful -- listening at first before taking her chance to observe below. more antaam. some heavy hitters and a group of general soldiers. golden eyes look to the worried brown of the veiljumper before switching to the dark round of the warden. both give a firm nod of confirmation to jump into combat. the synergy the three share is a practiced craft of trial and error. illia is first to hit the ground. with a flick of her wrist, flashes of light scatter in an arc across the ground. grunts and yells of surprise mix with the hiss of smoke. with a crouch, she braces for davrin -- who rolls across her back to take his first swipe at the closest and largest enemy with a grit of his teeth. bellara is next with a sweep of her arrows -- each finding their target with deadly accuracy. the set of antaam soldiers are downed in a matter of minutes. the trio continues on their trek forward -- the other side of the island now visible across the way. davrin makes a comment on how he wonders the others are holding up -- and it's not long until an answer responds. orange and red bloom on the shores and settlements. the sound booming and ricocheting off of the valleys and rocky cliffs. illia's steps falter briefly at the disturbance, a breathless chuckle fluttering from her as she continues.

" i think they're doing alright. " the crow assures with a glanced smile, keeping her blades at her sides. they were heading into the thick of enemy territory now. soon they would meet at their rendevouz.

They're up against hell, in truth, come to Thedas in all its' awful glory, as the sky burns red above them, as the Evanuris move the alignment of the planet and the moon to push their ritual into being. They'd all thought they had more time than this- but Elgar'nan plays by no one's rules but his own. They have to play catch-up, now, and they have only the slightest amount of time to get there.

When Illia chooses them to lead the distraction team, they hum, slowly rolling their neck out and stretching their shoulders- before giving her a shrug and a salute, a crooked grin on their face. "You'll figure it out eventually," they say with a quick wink. The look up at the red sky and breathe out a long sigh. "I'll see you at the ritual site. Whatever it takes, yeah? Don't be late." And with that, they're turning, pulling their glaive off their back and striding for the point where their distraction will begin.

If they can get the Antaam chasing them, they can clear Illia's path; and Harrow's always been good at taking the heavy hitters, and hitting them back twice as hard.