Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1905063-Dragon-Age-female-weight-gain/cid/2048767-Speaker-Casserole-Pentupgas-Drunk-Cassandra
Cassandra burst into a coughing fit as some to her mead went down the wrong pipe from her drinking too much too fast. She dizzily raised her arms into the air while she coughed, still holding her half emptied jug in her hand. When the fit ended, she went right back to drinking. This was her… some high numbered flagon of some kind of alcohol that day. Her belly was full and heavy, and sloshed about even when she hand’t been been binge drinking. Cassandra had taken to drinking to deal with her anger, and as a result had not only become a bit of a drunk, but she also gained a beer belly that noticeable even when she was fully armored.
“Damn pointy eared, mage-coddling, Chantry hating, heathen oxwoman!” The once proud warrior ranted as she stumbled around the smithy. “I am the one who—hic—I am more important than her! Andraste should have chosen me!” Her raving could be heard outside the smithy even over the banging of hammers. She was about to storm out to go give the Inquisitor a piece of her mind, but she could no longer keep her balance and fell into a pile of sacks, causing her spherical belly to shake like jelly.
She stayed in the spot for some time, simply drinking her troubles away, until her troubles came into the smithy. When she saw the Inquisitor approaching, she began yet another one of her alcohol fulled rants.
“You’re angry at me? Is that what this is about?” Herah asked after Cassandra had finished, offering a sarcastic toast to her ‘holiness’ at the end.
“Naturally! Isn’t everything about you?” Cassandra slurred, both her thoughts and speech impaired by her inebriation.
Herah crossed her arms and knitted her brow. “What have you got to be angry about?”
With more than a little effort, Cassandra gets herself back onto her feet, wobbling back and forth slightly to keep her balance, her bulging belly adding to the difficulty of the task. “You!” She began, pointing an unsteady finger at Herah. “Coddling the mages, encouraging them as if they didn’t almost cost us everything! I have watched you, even exalted you as you straddled the world. And I’m the one who raised you up.”
“I’m doing the best I can, Cassandra. ‘What needs to be done’. Remember?”
Cassandra shakes her head. “I do remember.” She throws her flagon away while maintaining eye contact with Herah, then turns away. “Corypheus still lives. My work is not yet done…” She shambles over to a wall and leaned against it. “Leave me be, Inquisitor. Go, do what must be done…”
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1905063-Dragon-Age-female-weight-gain/cid/2048767-Speaker-Casserole-Pentupgas-Drunk-Cassandra
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 5:39pm on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author