inherit
ღ Aerial Flybys
61
0
1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
obsidiangryphon
ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 0:03:24 GMT
I wrote "The Cat Gambit" initial version for an online friend before Christmas two years ago. I wanted to be both funny and intriguing. I liked the idea of Morrigan forced to stay as a cat while swung by a genlock, and also her idea of revenge against Anders In DA fanfiction I prefer to use Bioware`s implicit names for the protagonist in order to be easily recognizable, without the need of any added description. So, you are saying that I should add those missing plot parts to "Rite of Passage"? Which version do you prefer? The modified story version or the interview? I cannot tell you what I want or how you should do it. It is your tapestry. It is your vision. Write as you visualised it, how you want it. You are the painter, the weaver, the creator. We see the strokes, the colours and appreciate the illustration. We offer feedback and it is for you to assimilate it any way you wish. If there is additional details that can flesh out the story, then it should be added. A fanfic is never stagnant. It is always changing as improvements are made.
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inherit
ღ Aerial Flybys
61
0
1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
obsidiangryphon
ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 0:14:17 GMT
Part II. Inquisitor Alaryn (posted Aug 2016).
Frostback Basin
"I really miss this."
Alaryn pitched a small pebble into the rolling waves before looking over at Cass. The former seeker had an air of wistful longing as she looked across the lake. "How bad is it?"
"There are times I wish I have a glib tongue like Varric's or the craft of Leliana. Times I want to pin hands to the table to get ears to listen than to have ten frivolous tongues wagging all at once. There's only so much that can be done with the first charge. If I overreach, I risk a growing bastion against the authority invested in me."
"Not enough voices at the table," Alaryn said, it was more of a statement than a question. "You did get them to revise the statutes for the Circles," she added encouragingly when Cass only shook her head.
Picking up a pebble next to her on the boulder, Cass threw it hard across the water, her frustration clear in that forceful pitch. Alaryn wondered if she imagined she was hitting several someones with that pebble. "Resolving the mage question was of the first order to restore the eminence of the Chantry, they expected that. But the entrenched reactionaries are far too fond of their trappings and reins of power, they disregarded the knowledge we have gathered about the lyrium, the templars, the Seekers. The deliberate omissions in Chantry history. Unless the fabric of their realm is threaten, they're perfectly content to continue to rot in the old ways."
Alaryn frowned. "Do you want Leliana to help you move more supporters to the table?"
"She gave me some names of her associates within the Chantry when it became clear I will be the Divine," Cass said.
"But do you want her to be more involved?" Alaryn persisted. "We both know she's more effective when she's personally in charge."
Cass bent her head. "I know what it cost her when Justinia asked her to return. To herself and her life. I also know Warden Commander Cousland has returned from her quest, I cannot ask her to give up her love again."
"I'm not suggesting you offer her the same position," Alaryn said patiently. "Why don't you confer with her and see what she has to say?"
"I can do that. I would like to see for myself the Hero of Ferelden. After all the effort I made in the past to find her, I deserve a chance to lay eyes on her. I do not doubt she will have much to say when she come to know of my purpose."
"You will not be disappointed," Alaryn grinned, recalling the moment she met Soleine when she arrived at Skyhold. After all that she had experienced, after meeting Hawke, her youthful imaginations and daydreams had largely dried up when it came to heroes. She had little illusions about Soleine so she wasn't surprised to find a formidable hard-bitten warden who grasped her arm firmly with that solid stoic regard that seasoned warriors held for another.
A slight smile lifted Cass's lips before it faded away. "I will not take up too much of Leliana's attention if she agrees to help. Especially when you have a feeling about Solas."
Alayrn shrugged. "It's only a feeling."
"With you. I put much store in your feelings when they seem bad to you."
"Oh?" Alaryn cocked an eyebrow at her. "Even when it turned up a fool who sent us on a mad hare's chase across Empress du Lion?"
"How can you say that when I had the most beautiful wreath bequeathed to me?" Cass said with a straight face. They looked at each other before they burst out laughing, recalling her comical dismay when the strange disembodied voice insisted that the wreath of green leaves and white flowers had to be given to her and that she had to wear it at the hour of her greatest challenge. It hadn't stayed long on her head before she whipped it off once they were certain whoever it was had left but she hadn't thrown it away.
"Do you still have it?" asked Alaryn.
"Somewhere in my wardrobe back at Val Royeaux." Cass stretched out on the boulder and stared up at the star spangled sky. "Tell me there are no mad hares here."
Resting her chin on a raised knee, Alaryn stared dreamily at the water. "Well there's the usual mad hares of war trying to raise their god."
"Raising deities is very popular in the last few years," Cass remarked drolly after a heaving sigh. "Do you suppose Inquisitor Ameridan did take down this Hakkon?"
"Take down, likely. Killed it?" Alaryn shook her head. "I doubt it. Svarah is certain that Hakkon didn't die and the Hakkonites are obviously trying to get him back from where he had gone or banished. If we can find a way into that frozen fortress, we'll find our answers. Ameridan would have left something behind."
"How many Hakkonites are we facing? What about calling in more Inquisition troops?"
Alaryn shook her head. "No. We ran into groups of Hakkonites breaking into the stores of our camps and bullying the local avvar for food. They have problems with provisioning so there can't be many of them in that fortress. Besides, Stone-Bear Hold has a score to settle with the Hakkonites for what they intended to do with Storvacker so we're not lacking swordarms."
"I can't believe they allowed a wild bear to wander about the hold as they pleased."
Alaryn chuckled. "Scout Harding has taken a shine to it. She's thinking we should get a mascot for Skyhold."
"What is she suggesting?"
"Leliana's nug?"
Cass snorted. "If it can last a day without some dwarf taking a shot at it for lunch."
Alaryn laughed.
"So what are you going to do after this matter is resolved?" Cass asked after a moment of silence.
"Honestly? I want to dissolve the Inquisition. It's getting too bloated and unwieldy. The powers that be can settle their own problems instead of bringing them to us." Alaryn shifted around so she could look at Cass. "So many applied to join after we took down Corypheus and they're still coming. Many had to be turned away but they just refused to go home. They just camp further down in the valley, making a nuisance of themselves and to the people in nearby settlements. The forts that we garrisoned are still ours because we need the space for the bodies."
Cass sat up. "I have not realised the Inquisition is facing such a crisis." She frowned musingly. "It will be noticed."
"I know. I'm trying to get it resolved before voices are raised from the lands the Inquisition is straddling and the ruckus the otiose are kicking up. I really need to get it done as soon as possible." I hope.
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ღ Aerial Flybys
61
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1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
obsidiangryphon
ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 0:48:34 GMT
Part IV Inquisitor Alaryn (posted Dec 2016)
Emprise du Lion
Gazing at what should have been flourishing blooming flora, Alaryn understood what Harding meant by sudden frost. She reached out to touch the leaves of the nearest bush. The leaves shattered into white flakes. A branch crumbled with a loud crack and fell to the ground with a thump. She surveyed the white surroundings. Too sudden. Life snuffed out within heart beats. Was it the rifts, the work of the Red Templars or the demon? Or was it a combination of all three?
Crestwood was blanketed by incessant rain. No surprise there considering the truth that lay drowned and moldering in the old village. Sahrnia? It had to be despair that brought on the icy climate. What were the red templars doing? This demon called Imshael? All the way up to the Keep, Alaryn pondered.
Red Templar patrols were out in full force. They recognised her all too easily. Was it the helm? Could they perceive the power of the Mark on her hand? Ordinary folks usually didn't know who she was unless she spoke to them. Ten out of ten, they just knew straight away. Sometimes she examined herself in the mirror back at Skyhold, trying to see what they see and failed.
The patrols were taken care of easily. Not so for the force garrisoned at the Keep that were greater in numbers. They even had slaved giants with them. Unlike those at the Emerald Graves, these were slow and clumsy. Alaryn guessed the frost had affected them. That and whatever else that was holding them enthralled.
When they finally met Imshael, he wasn't what Alaryn was expecting. Demons could possess and usually hold no true human forms if they were pulled into the real world, according to Solas. Imshael looked like a man. She glanced at Cole and back at Imshael. Two demons of purpose. What did Imshael intend in the real world? Varric had the most sour expression on his face as they listened to Imshael dangle temptations her way. The rest looked impatient; why talked to the demon at all?
Imshael's response was exasperation and outrage when she called him demon. Spirit, he insisted. It didn't matter. Spirit, demon. He was going down and went down, taunting them all the while.
There was no one except a dying red templar at the top of the tower. After talking to him, Alaryn thought Imshael was likely the source of the ice. The wretchedness and despair he wrought in the templars could have brought on the sudden freeze. He must have been quite a powerful demon to have spread his influence so wide.
They went back to Sahrnia. Alaryn sent most of the Inquisition troops to take control of Suledin Keep though she had mistress Poulain detained first. The woman went quietly. The surviving villagers made no protest though they looked lost. They would need someone to take charge of them and she had an idea who it was going to be.
Michel de Chevin was at his post the entrance of the village. What she did not expect was a pack of wolves confronting him. Drawing her sword, she rushed to his aid. Before she could reach him, the wolves turned as one to look at her. Their growls turned to rumbles. She stared in astonishment as they vanished, eyes gleaming green and eerily at her. Were they wolves or something else?
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inherit
ღ Aerial Flybys
61
0
1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
obsidiangryphon
ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 1:02:25 GMT
I've forgotten I transferred my old BSN DAI PT snippets to the HfDAfans so I'm putting them all over here. The sequence is going to be off. The whole lot below come before the first snippet I post in this thread. * Inquisitor Alaryn HavenThe blank look on their faces was disturbing when Alaryn informed the Inner Council of her decision. It wasn't exactly the dullness of incomprehension. It was rather like the confused air about First Enchanter Fiona when they spoke of her invitation to Redcliffe. As if they didn't know what they were about or what they had discussed weeks before. There was that fuzz of shadowy outlines around each of them. Less sharp in them than in Fiona. When had it appeared? Just after they returned from Val Royeaux, Alaryn realised. It wasn't so clearly defined as it was now and it wasn't just the Inner Council who exhibited the odd cloudiness. It was around everyone. Was it the effect of this time dilation magic Dorian spoke of? She watched them covertly as they debated on the wisdom of approaching the Templars. Their manner was that of a waking dreamer grasping after the threads of a recent dream moments ago. Slight hesitations in their speech and furrowed brows that spoke of intense groping of recollection. That they did remember was clear, unlike Fiona who plainly could not recall her trip. Why did it not affect her? Was it the Mark? If the impact of the time spell was spreading as Dorian had warned it would, they had to get the templars immediately. Only they could null and control the effects of magic. It would have to be done quickly before the situation became worse. "Then it is decided," she cut into their debate, drawing all eyes. "We will approach the Templars with the Orlesian nobility at Therinfall Redoubt in six days. Cass, pick out the troops that will accompany us. I'll pull supplies and meet you at the gates. We'll move out in two candlemarks." It was after she left the room that she realised she had effectively issued orders to people who were, in a sense, in charge of the Inquisition. None looked upset or asked questions. They had simply accepted it. * The TemplarsThey accomplished their objective; acquiring help from the Templars, but they had never envisioned the rot of red lyrium spreading within Templar ranks or that the Lord Seeker was a envy demon. Alaryn eyed the survivors with sympathy. Their beliefs and confidence in themselves were shattered with the betrayal of their leaders. Ser Barris was the only one whom they could depend on now. She looked at Cass when he came to up them; what would the Inquisition offer the Templars? The shadows behind Cass's eyes were less defined at the moment but her unspoken plea was clear to Alaryn. "An alliance," said Alaryn. The offer bolstered the templars; they were still of worth. Barris understood the chance she was offering them and took it, promising they would help to remove the Tewinter mages and sealed the Breach. Good news to Alaryn's ears and the party. Their good mood dropped when they met a courier from Leliana on the way to Red Cliffe. The mages were all gone. They had left a few days ago for parts unknown, led by an agent from someone called Calpurnia. Alexius himself had apparently disappeared. No one knew where. The odd time eddies about the town was also gone. Whether this was connected to Alexius, they had no idea. What to do? Sealed the Breach, decided Alaryn. They could not waste time chasing after the mages. The fuzzy shadows of the people around her had disappeared. Did Alexius die? If he did, the time dilation spell must have died with him. Alaryn had no idea if that was what happened but she wasn't going to sit around wondering about it. It was a puzzle that could be dealt with later. The Breach was now the immediate problem. They headed back to Haven with the senior Templars and those troops ready to make the attempt to close the hole in the sky. * The BreachShe had screamed. Two forces warred to consume her. As her body burned with unnatural fire within, she fought to impose her will on the burgeoning power in the tear. We should have waited. Tried to get the mages, I don't think I can do this. Even as that thought flashed through her mind, she felt a constriction in the flow of wild power; the templars were succeeding in their efforts. Encouraged, she gritted her teeth against the fire and exerted every ounce of her being, her will into closing the Breach. Something flared and surged against the combined forces, throwing everyone away with explosive force. Did we fail?* The headache had subsided. Alaryn ached all over as she sat at a vantage point overlooking Haven. Campfires burned merrily, music and laughter rang through the night as people celebrated the closing of the Breach. If they sounded somewhat wild, that was to be expected. She rubbed her left hand absently as she stared down at the scene. She was thankful the fires that had raged through her body had dwindled to barely a throb in her hand. She would have gone mad if it had continued to burn. A hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up to see Cass smiling down at her. The Seeker glanced down at the village. "They would all be impossible tomorrow." Alaryn chuckled. "Lucky for us." "I do not begrudge them," said Cass as she sat down next to her. "They deserve no less." She continued to observe the drunken revelry. "We have closed the Breach. The Inquisition have accomplished the impossible." "That we did." "Now all that remains is to create a concensus between the templars and the mages before they even think of fighting each other again. Not an easy task, I agree," said Cass when she heard the heavy sigh from Alaryn. "I don't think it can be done without some form of change. The old practices cannot be sustained any longer." "True but in order for those changes to stay, we need a new Divine." "Provided she's even willing to condone changes." Alaryn rubbed her left hand. The movement drew Cass's eyes. "Does it still trouble you?" she asked. "It no longer burns." Alaryn held up her hand. "Where does it come from? Who made it? How did I get it? So many questions." She lowered the hand. "We still have to find out who was responsible for the explosion at the Conclave." "That will be..," began Cass. They stiffened with shock when the clear tone of the alarm bell rang out. * SkyholdAlaryn plucked lightly at the strings of the lute that one of the guards had given to her. It was the same guard who had lent it to her one night at the tavern in Haven. A gift he had said. He had insisted that she take it despite her protests. The tone was sweet, reminding her of her own lute at home. Her own quarters at home however, was not as palatial as the one she now reside in. Nor was it at the top of a mountain, overlooking deep valleys and a frozen lake whose shores were dotted with a field of tents. Too ostentatious. As was the Inquisition throne in the hall. Inquisitor. A magnificent and unnerving title. As unnerving as the enemy who now stalked the path of conquest to godhood. The thought of her enemy brought back the odd nauseating smell and sight of Corypheus. Inhuman. He had stalked her and sought her death before she even knew his name. She paused n her play of the lute and looked down at the Mark. She had stolen it from him, he claimed. How? She could not remember. Why couldn't she remember? She doubted the memory failure had anything to do with Corypheus. Something else had brought it about. She sighed and put aside the lute. There was entirely too much to do. Her table was stacked with diplomatic missives, papers and scrolls for her perusal. She wished she could push all of it to Josephine but the ambassador was already handling quite a heavy load. More so with nobles from Ferelden, Orleis and representatives from the northern lands hogging Skyhold and the great hall, all clamoring for an audience. Then there was a hundred and one other irrelevant issues chasing their heels. A smaller stack on the side were reports of the progress of on-going repairs at Skyhold, troop dispositions, scout sightings of venatori, rifts, red templars, rogue mages, bandits. Right on top of it was a reminder from Josephine about the uniform fittings for the Winter Palace ball. She grimaced. They were supposed to try to find out who was attempting to assassinate Empress Celene but she detested hobnobbing with nobles and all that rot. She ought to seek out Hawke's warden at Crestwood. The report on that region spoke of an unrelenting rain storm ever since the Breach appeared. That was what, more than three months ago? Why didn't it stop with the closing of the Breach? Was it due to the large rift in the lake? A rift in the lake. She couldn't imagine how she was supposed to close it. Boat out there? Swim underwater? That would please Varric. She grinned at the thought of telling him they might be going swimming. The Winter Palace affair was slightly more than a month away. More than enough time for her to find out what's going on at Crestwood and meet Hawke's friend. She stood up. Yes, that's what she was going to do. * Western ApproachThe heat was enervating during the day. It was worst at midday and it was dreadfully cold in the night. On top of the bloody heat and cold was that mouldering sour stench of the Blight carried to them when the wind changed direction. A smell that brought back images Alaryn often had nightmares over when she first encountered the stricken Ferelden refugees on the shores of the Free Marches ten years ago. She pulled the hood of her cloak forward to block out the sand. It was pervasive. It got into everything, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, food, clothes and boots. Even the water tasted brackish. Her feet felt clammy and slimy; fine sand turned into cloying mud by her sweat. She unbuckled her boots and removed her socks to dry her feet. Thank the Maker she was wearing leather armor, she'd boiled and rot in her steel armor in such conditions. She huffed and tried to get comfortable under the shade of the lean-to. There was no sound from the others. No one had the energy or the inclination to talk which cut down nicely on the acidic exchanges between Cass and Varric. She had no strength to spare to smooth things between those two. They would just have to grin and bear it and try to work things out themselves. Idly, she wondered what Cass had talked to Hawke about when the Champion of Kirkwall arrived at Skyhold. Asked her where she had been hiding herself? Lambasted Varric for his lies? She doubted Hawke was distrubed by Varric's actions since they prevented more trouble landing on her. She closed her eyes. She had to try to sleep a little. This forthcoming meeting with the Wardens at the fortress was hardly going to be one of friendly conversation. * Skyhold The guards were vigilant as per his orders; giving him a very thorough eyes over before clasping their fists to chest in salute when he reached them and flicked a finger code. The walls of the passage beyond was still cluttered with piles of wood planks, dusty banners, odds and ends no one had attempted to tidy up. Yet. He climbed the long flight of stairs to the large spacious private study of the Inquisitor. Her room. Alaryn. He paused at the top of the steps. It was a very tidy room. Books lined the shelves neatly at the far corner. The bed hardly looked slept in. No blaze in the fireplace. But there were signs of her presence. A small stack of books by the couch. A page marker peeping out from the topmost book. A pair of soft half-boots lay on their sides on the floor. A half mended leather gauntlet hung on the armor stand; she had insisted on doing her own armor repairs. A covered stack of papers on the table with a glass paperweight to prevent them from scattering in the breeze from the open doors of the balcony. He picked up the paper clipped to the writing board; a drawing of a Dalish motif, finely detailed. Drawn from memory? He returned it to the writing board before adding the documents he was carrying to the covered stack. His feet nudged something leaning against the table. He grabbed the lute before it clattered to the floor. Plucking the strings softly, he wandered over to the table by the fireplace. The chessboard was slightly dusty, the servants knew better than to disturb a game in progress. It was his turn to make his move. He examined the chess pieces. She had made a move to oppose his knight. He could imagine her demeanor when she made it. That studied focus in her blue eyes when they had their first game in the garden. The little furrow of her brows, that dancing gleam of challenge when her pieces threatened to overwhelm his. He smiled as he remembered the speculative, disappointed look when he lost to her. It had been deliberate on his part and she knew. She had misinterpreted his intentions of course . It had been a spur of the moment of madness or was it inspiration? He was hardly one to write poems and such. He had no experience courting a woman. That moment then had seemed like an excellent way of going about it. He had panicked when she closed up but he had held to his course. The pause, the consideration when she realised what he was about seemed like an eternity. When she tacitly accepted his unspoken question, his heart had nearly stopped. And now, he stared at the board, they would have to see where this dance would lead them. * Storm CoastThe Qunari offer was layered as she suspected when Gatt lay out a plan that was absurd, cold and calculative. The moment he mentioned the dreadnought and the dispositions of their forces, she knew the primary objective behind the offer of alliance. It was a wonder Bull didn't seem to see it or perhaps he did and was trying to deny what was happening; his casual open manner of operations could not have endured without his superiors taking steps to rein him in. Either he choose to conform or be declared a rogue. If he chose the former, he would have to cut free the people whom his superiors would have defined as rougue elements leading their agent astray. She wondered what he would choose as they watched the dreadnought sank the smuggler ship effortlessly. The hammer on a hapless tiny insect was turned into a clumsy giant in a cage quickly as the venatori responded and sent reinforcements. She listened with half an ear as Bull began to argue with Gatt over pulling the Chargers away from their position before they were trapped by enemy forces. Save the dreadnought and her crew or save the Chargers? Gatt's voice became sharper when Bull dithered. "Boss?" She turned. It was startling to see the raw agony of indecision on that normally placid face. "Do we have the troops to intervene?" "Troops? What troops?" Gatt demanded. He turned about as if expecting to see Inquisition soldiers pouring over the hills. "That's not what we stipulated in this operation." Alaryn ignored him. There were Inquisition soldiers nearby but not enough to make any inroad against the venatori forces. "Not at the moment." The hope in Bull's face died away. She nodded to his fingers clenched around the horn. "There is still time." "No, you can't.." "What manner of troops would you call to your shield, Bull?" Alaryn cut across Gatt. "The ones who march with their minds bound or the ones who choose to stand on all sides with you? You decide." She turned away and beckoned to the rest of the party. They had to make the retreat themselves if they were not to be similarly trapped. Solas cast a glacial look at Gatt before following. Seconds later, the clear call of the horn rang out. * The DescentAlthough it had been more than a week since her return to Skyhold, her muscles and arms still ached. Overstrained and some internal damage, the healers had said. Rest and regular meals would mend the hurts. As if she needed to be told the obvious. She flexed the fingers of her right hand before picking up the quill pen. How should she write it? The weight of earth and stone, the humid and odorous essence of the Deep Roads, the horrors of the darkspawn, the valor of the dwarves, the Sha-Brytol, the Titan. Titan. Wincing at the soreness, she got up and went to the balcony. The air was cool and sharp. Clean. The peaks of distant mountains hung deceptively small along the horizon. She tried to imagine a titan standing against those peaks and couldn't. They had never seen how it looked like, only what it habored within. Was there only the one? Was there more? Were they scattered across Thedas and sleeping? What would happen if all of them woke up? Would they be enraged by the insects taking their blood? She hadn't informed Orzammar of the discovery that lyirum was a titan's blood. She didn't think they would believe her. Even if they did, how could they stop lyrium mining? It would bring down not only their economy, but also disrupt the foundations of the templar order. The Order would be doomed. The mages could do without lyrium, their casting would be less effective but there would be no one to check them other than the Seekers. She frowned. Perhaps it could be a good thing for the templars. Without lyrium, they would not fall into its long term effects and waste away. They could follow Cullen's example and weaned themselves of the addiction. They could join the Seekers. Did they really need templars? It would still leave Orzammar in dire straits. It was the sole commodity that sustained them. What could they turn to if they couldn't mine lyrium? Would they be forced to abandon their home and live on the surface? It would spell the end of a culture. She bent her head, thinking deeply. If Valta still lived, it opened up a line of possibility. The Titan considered Valta its own, would it see the rest of the dwarves in the same way? There was that city within itself. If it could be communicated with, would it accept the dwarves if the worse come to the worst? There were so many questions. How and when lyrium first came to be used. No doubt it was the dwarves but how had it become so wide spread? Who had discovered its properties? Why had the dwarves forgotten their connection to the titans? Why were the titans asleep? When had they been active? What was the world like when they were? She sighed. She wished they had been able to communicate with the Titan. Unless they could find someone from the far distant past, she doubted there would be any answers.
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inherit
ღ Aerial Flybys
61
0
1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
obsidiangryphon
ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 1:09:33 GMT
Old BSN postings.
Arbor Wilds
The Arbor Wilds was lush and filled with strange beautful birds and flowers Alaryn had never seen before. There wasn't time to stop to take notes and admire the scenery of gushing crystal clear waterfalls and streams. They fought their way to Mythal's Temple and entered at a run. The sound of fighting beyond the entrance slowed their rush; none of the Inquisition troops nor their allies had made it into the temple which meant there was something else taking place.
They crept in and came upon an astonishing scene; a band of elves on a bridge taunting Corypheus. Alaryn frowned at Morrigan when Corypheus declared they would not keep him from the Well of Sorrows. Morrigan only shrugged; she had no idea what it was. They watched in horrified silence as Corypheus was buffeted by powerful streams of magic from the statues on the bridge as he walked onto it. Inhuman, Alaryn thought as Corypheus continued to speak calmly rather than scream in the midst of his destruction. Was he denying his own death? He was shredded to nothing in front of their eyes before the statues exploded in a blaze of light, killing most of the elves. When they could look again, Calpurnia was already over the bridge and entering the inner sanctum. How did they survive the explosion?
Alaryn walked gingerly over to the bridge and looked around. Corypheus was dead, just like that? Before she could even begin to decide how she should feel, a gargling noise froze them. The corpse of a warden twisted, his mouth opened to spew a fountain of black blood, his flesh seemed to grow.
"Across the bridge!" shouted Alaryn when the shockingly familiar contours of Corypheus appeared. Everything became clear in a flash. How and in what manner he could have survived the battle with Hawke, the explosion at the Conclave and why he wanted the wardens. The scream of a dragon rang out behind them as they raced for the door of the inner sanctum, slamming it shut just in time. The seal of the door blazed with light as it closed. It thudded once as a heavy object struck against it. The dragon. The door held. There was no more strikes against the door. There was no time to waste, they had to stop Calpurnia.
Cass objected when Alaryn chose to follow Morrigan's advice; complete the rituals to open the main door rather than follow the venatori through the hole they made in the floor. But Alaryn felt it must be done. There was something about the place; eyes watching and weighing their every move. If they wished smooth passage, they should respect the customs of the ancient elves. Elves whom they had little knowledge about. She was glad she had chosen to do so when they met Abelas. She doubted he would have believed them and offered a brief alliance if they had just followed the venatori.
Morrigan wasn't so pleased when he declared his intention to destroy the well. The apostate shape-changed into a bird before their astonished eyes to chase after the Sentinel, leaving them to follow an elf so old Alaryn felt must be at least more than a thousand in years. They were led through many rooms, all dedicated to Elven gods. She was exasperated when Cass expressed disbelief that the elves built temples and worshipped nonsense. Who were they to judge when they were the younger race? They had built their civilization upon the bones of a more ancient and powerful race. It was not their place to decide or belittle what they did not know or understand.
They managed to catch up to Calpurnia at the base of the Well. The former slave proved to be amiable and discerning when Alaryn revealed Corypheus's intentions towards her. The flash of anger in her eyes was gratifying when she was shown the evidence. More so when she elected not to follow Coyrpheus's order. She would buy them time, she declared. Alaryn didn't care whether she intended to face her former master or not but that she was willing to abandon Corypheus's cause.
Just as Calpurnia and her men left, Abelas arrived with Morrigan hot on his heels. Alaryn raced after them up the steps Abelas had conjured. The Sentinel did not attack, he only looked discouraged and resigned. Morrigan was affronted that he could even think of destroying the Well. Alaryn was all for leaving the Well untouched if not for Corypheus. What should they do with it?
There was a look of resignation on Abelas's face when he asked if that was what she wanted; to drink from the well. When Alaryn remained silent, he warned that whoever take the power of the well would be compelled to do the will of Mythal. Morrigan scoffed at the notion; the will of a non-existent being?
Bound as he was bound said Abelas before he cast a last look at them before he left. Although taken aback by the brief revelation of Mythal's murder that shattered yet another Dalish legend, Morrigan insisted she was the right one to drink from the well. Alaryn wasn't sure who was the right one. None of them, she felt. And yet, the Well could not be remained as it was. If they left, Corypheus would simply slaughter the remaining Sentinels and looked for another vessel for the Well.
She walked along the edge of the Well as she considered the water in it. There was weight to it, a reaching. She drew back and saw the rest waiting for her decision. There wasn't much of a choice. Morrigan had asked instead of taking it. Every step of the way, the witch had been rather open with her intentions. Persuasive. Why fight when guile and sentiment was easier? And yet. Alaryn frowned. She beckoned to Morrigan. "The Well is yours."
She was expecting magic lights or something when Morrigan stepped into the well and immersed herself. Instead, the water in the well exploded and rushed out at them. When she looked again, the well was empty but they were all dry rather than drenched. Where did all the water go? Perhaps it wasn't water at all. She rushed down to Morrigan who seemed unconscious. The witch stirred to her calls, muttering elvish and looked confused as she got to her feet. Alaryn watched her worriedly. Was she going mad?
She blinked as dark blue mists rose around her and Morrigan. Whispers reached her ears. Words that she could almost recognised. Words of warning. Something pulled at them to look at the entrance.
"Corypheus," muttered Alaryn before noticing with alarm that she herself was glowing. Why?
"The eluvian!" said Morrigan. Raising her arm, she activated the eluvian.
"Every one to the mirror," said Alaryn, waving at the others urgently. They didn't wait, they dashed in after Morrigan who had already entered.
Alaryn paused to look back. A roar of fury from Corypheus. To her amazement, a swirl of water appeared from the well. In the midst of it, the shape of a woman. Was this a guardian of the well? She didn't wait any longer, she threw herself into the eluvian.
*
Skyhold
They sat across each other at the table they shifted to the balcony. Cullen stared expressionlessly at the chess pieces on the board while Alaryn slouched in her own chair, chin cupped in her hand as she gazed at the sky. Neither of them had their minds on the game. There was a more important impending event arising. The problem was they didn't know what Corypheus was going to do, they just knew he was going to do something after four setbacks. When? They had no idea either.
It was the calm before the storm. Alaryn had no idea if she would survive it when it hit. She had already prepared letters to be sent to her family should she not make it. It had been the hardest task she had to handle; she didn't know what to write. She had stared at the blank parchment for the longest time before she scribbled, what she was certain, complete babble and sealed it before she could think of revising it. Her parents and brothers would probably wonder. Of all the Trevelyans in the family, she was considered the most dispassionate.
She had even prepared a document to deal with her death; her body. Rather pointless if Corypheus burned it to ashes or strung up to be displayed. A grisly thought. In the event that somehow none of that happened, she'd rather not have her remains become a religious symbol. She had a horrid feeling that might happen if the Andrastian faithful had their way despite her constant denial that she was the Herald of Andraste.
Then there was one other concern. Her eyes dropped to Cullen. She sighed. It turned into a sharp yelp when the Mark flared. Cullen looked up startled when Alaryn shot up from her chair and stared at the sky. He came to his feet when he realised the sky had turned a familiar sickly green, a whirlpool of lightning clouds swirling towards a dark hungry looking hole. Beneath their feet, there was a swelling murmur as people around Skyhold noticed what was happening. The Breach. It had returned. It had to be him. Corypheus. He had opened the sky again.
Cullen's gaze dropped back to Alaryn, a cold stone in his stomach. The Mark on her hand blazed brightly as she stared at it. She met his gaze. The moment had come.
"He's at Haven," she said.
"Most of our troops are still at the Arbor Wilds..," he began to say.
She knew what he was going to suggest. "No, I can't wait. We cannot wait. I must leave immediately." She turned and was brought up short when arms snaked around her to bring her up against a warm hard body. A body that trembled.
"Maker, I know I have to let you go. I know you have to face him. Promise me, promise me you'll come back."
A promise she could not make. She turned. "I'll try," she said softly as she cupped Cullen's face with her hands, his pain etched in his eyes and in every line of his body. They stood in silence, cherishing the moment. "Will you tell the others to get ready and make the preparations?" she said reluctantly.
Drawing a deep breath, Cullen nodded and stepped away. He made as if to go and then turned back. "From herein to the end of my life and beyond, there is none but you. Only you." His eyes gilmmered with his passion as he held out his hand.
She blinked with unshed tears as she grasped it. "There is none other but you, in this life and beyond."
He smiled. "I will wait for you. If you do not return-" he looked down at their hands before imploring huskily, "wait for me."
"I will."
*
Haven
Corypheus made three mistakes. He would have done better to pull along the rest of the troops than isolate them on a broken chunk of rock and ruins. Granted, there would be more against him but if he had the power to break and lift objects, then he could also easily direct rocks to destroy them or hold the lives of those soldiers hostage to hamper Alaryn and her party. He did none of those. Did he want to conserve whatever power he had left? Or was his anger and wounded pride driving him?
Alaryn silde half-crouched behind the shelter of a broken pillar when she saw the burning trail of a fire spell flung her way. Cass would be working her way through the ruins, she knew. His second mistake. Too many obstacles blocking out his destructive spells; he could have chosen a battle ground with fewer impediments or flatten the landscape to reduce their defensive covers. He had not done so. Was he weaker? Varric bobbed in and out on her left so quickly that there was only a glimpse of his grey tunic. But she saw his signal easily.
Corypheus's third mistake. They were not recruits on their first foray into battle. For the past several months, they had come together and banded into an experienced battle group. They needed no speech to know how to work together. Attract, distract, lure, attack. A shout from Cass. The one that meant she had hooked Corypheus's attention. Alaryn sprinted from her cover, breathing evenly and easily. She had judged his movements correctly; his back was facing her. Preoccupied with the Seeker before him, he did not see Alaryn's approach. Dorian and Solas struck him just before she reached him, weakening his barrier. Her greatsword slammed into his back. He jerked forward with an eerie whining roar and vanished before either she or Cass could deal him another blow.
A scream pierced the air. They looked up to see two dragons in a struggling clinch. The lighter coloured dragon that was Morrigan tore itself away as the other plummeted to the ground, trailing a broken wing. From the minute trails behind Morrigan that looked like blood as she dropped rapidly, she was injured. Alaryn doubted she could fight any more. The ground shook with the red lyrium dragon's crash. Alaryn signalled to Bull, Blackwall and Cole; now was their chance to take it down. It screamed in rage when Bull landed a searing chop into its side as it struggled to stand.
They piled onto it relentlessly, cutting into its legs, sides and wings until the ground was soaked with blood. Varric's arrows lodged themselves in its eyes. Dorian and Solas kept watch for Corypheus while making sure the protective barriers around the party remained strong. The dragon gave a gargling cry when Alaryn sliced into its throat and moved no more. A reddish glow appeared from the body and floated to the upper level of the ruins, revealing where Corypheus had hidden himself. He had not intervened in the battle which meant he was not as strong as he would like to think he was.
He roared at them in rage when they reached him. They scattered into cover except for Cass who advanced steadily, batting aside an attempt to sear her. He roared again and directed the next attack at the ground under her feet instead, lifting the stones to fling her back.
"No, I cannot fail!" he shouted as he lifted the elven orb. It flared and bathed him with an ugly red aura as he brought it up towards the Breach. "Dumat, heed me! If you exist, if you truly exist, aid me now in this hour of..."
The orb called to her. Alaryn didn't know how and why, she just knew it did. She stepped out and stretched out her marked hand. The orb snapped to her hand like a fish reeled in. A voice seemed to ring in her head and she staggered slightly. Shaking her head to clear it, she stared at it and then at Corypheus who looked at her in shock. The red aura of power had vanished. With a defeated look in his eyes, he dropped to his knees.
"No," he said in dull disbelief.
The orb thrummed and Alaryn knew what she had to do. She stretched forth the orb towards the Breach, she would close it. Once and for all. By my will, you will obey. A blinding pillar of golden light struck the Breach. She didn't know how but she could have sworn she could see broken threads picking themselves up, reaching out to each other, tightening, weaving. The clouds closed in as the hole in the sky became smaller and smaller. With a thundering boom and sharp clash of lightning, the hole closed. The sickly green glow vanished and the clouds swirled, slowly dispersing, leaving behind the dark expanse of the night sky.
Silence. The orb was spent, the voice had stilled. She dropped it and approached Corypheus who stared dumbly at her. "You want to go into the Fade? I will send you."
She opened a Rift. He screamed when the rift reached out with hungry hands, seeming to tear him apart, swallowing the pieces before it vanished. She blinked, shaken. What had she done? She had wanted Corypheus dead, gone and done with. Her desire had opened a Rift and it had seemed alive, responding to her thought. Just as it had at Adamant when in desperation, she had blindly and instinctively cast one to escape death. It had brought everyone along with it. Was it because she had feared for them? She had wanted to keep them safe? Was that why they were not rent into pieces as Corypheus was?
The ground trembled. Everone looked up and scattered when they saw huge pieces of rocks that had been floating in the sky tumbling down. Without the power leaking from the Breach, everything was hurtling down to the ground below. Including the ruins they were standing on. The impact might very well killed them all. Alaryn squashed the temptation to open another Rift.
No. I will not. Whatever comes, I will accept it.
*
The smarming to gain favour, the flattery, the adulation, the platitudes was beginning to get to her. The melange of roasted meats, wine, heavy perfumes, the rumble of voices, the fumes of smoke from braziers were an overwhelming oppression. Her eyes felt dry and she felt sick from the numerous toasts. She wanted to get away from the Olesian nobles commanding the conversation. She caught the eye of Leliana who seemed to understand her predicament. The spy master adroitly inserted herself into the group, steering attention to herself as Alaryn slipped away.
She avoided attempts from the guests to engage her in conversation as she wound her way through the crowd, heading for the door to her quarters. A stubborn representative from Ferelden kept after her, going so far as to try to catch her arm. Her irascibility was hovering on the knife edge. She didn't know what she would have done if Cassandra hadn't spotted what was happening and deliberately got in his way. She sent silent thanks to the seeker as Cass's distinct voice loudly threw a question concerning King Alistair at him.
She reached the door without any more trouble and was about to open it when she felt a hand touched her arm. Annoyed, she turned and saw it was Cullen. Before he could say anything, she grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him past the door. The Inquisition soldiers on guard to the inner door merely moved aside when they saw them.
She heaved a sigh of relief when they reached the top floor. Dropping his hand, she made for the balcony. The throbbing in her temples eased as she breathed the fresh air. Maker forbid she had to attend another celebratory party. Leaning on the balustrade, she watched the crowd gathered around blazing campfires below in the courtyard. The roar of happy voices almost drowned out the music from fiddles, drums and lutes. Shadows flickered as dancers whirled and swayed.
"Here."
She turned to find Cullen offering her a tankard. She made a face. "I don't want any more wine."
"I know. It's fresh cider."
"Oh." She sipped the slightly sweet liquid gratefully as he stood beside her, a smiliar tankard in hand. They stared down at the scene below. "I guess no one is going to be good for anything tomorrow," she said. "Today," she amended after a look at the position of the stars overhead.
"What's the agenda in the coming days?" he said musingly.
"I want to climb off the high stepping horse they put me on and find a way to get rid of this--" she held up her left hand.
"Didn't the spirit in the Fade say it cannot be removed until you-" Cullen cut himself off abruptly. "You think there's a way?" he said instead.
"It's magic. Elven magic. There has to be a way. Maybe Flemeth would know how."
"How much chance is there of finding her if she has been elusive for so long?" he said. When she only frowned, he said softly, "I'm not saying it's impossible. That Mark is still of use. There're Rifts still to be closed. You may encounter her again."
"True," she sighed. "I can close the remaining Rifts but there is no longer any reason for the Inquisition to remain."
"There're formalities to observe. Handing over the forts and territories we have taken back to their proper owners. All of that can be done smoothly but the Inquisition is no longer a insignificant Order. It is a force to be reckoned with and many would want to use it. Are still in need of it," he corrected.
She winced. "We came together for a singular purpose and that has been done. I can close the Rifts easily with a small group of volunteers."
"Josie tells me the petitions grows each day." Cullen turned to look at her. "Disorder is spreading even further and running rampant. Many of them are a consequence of the Rifts. You know as well as I the soldiers from Orleis and Ferelden have their limitations against demons without additional aid. Most of the mages have fallen with Corypheus. Those who survived are mostly with us where their positions are secured. They would not be eager to return to their respective homeland unless Cassandra could satisfactorily resolve the question that brought about the Templar Mage conflict. That is not going to come about quickly. A small band of volunteers is pointless when we already have both groups working so well together."
"Maker." She rubbed her face tiredly and leaned gratefully into his embrace. "I want to be myself again."
"I know. It'll just be a while yet but it'll happen. When the time comes, I'll, we'll find a way to remove the Mark."
"I'll hold you to that." A yawn caught hold of her.
"Go to bed." He took away her tankard. "It's been a long day."
She drew away. "I will if you'll share it with me," she smiled invitingly at him as she walked backwards into her room. A grin flashed across his face. He placed both tankards on the balustrade before following.
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ღ Aerial Flybys
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26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
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ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 1:19:53 GMT
Elven Inquisitor Elvene (posted Jan 2017), archer rogue
Adamant Fortress
With all eyes on her, Elvene had to think quickly. Though she could not see the warden's face, his dejection and grief was clear as day. Her decision would not be popular but in consideration of the Blighted nature of Corypheus, the chances of an outbreak was high. The wardens were still needed. They deserved a chance but they need to see that it was high time changes were made in their Order. She would have to grab the most senior of them and thrash out the problem with him, along with Blackwall.
The warden was shocked when she declared them allies. His shoulders straightened and he stood taller when it sank in that they were being given a chance to redeem themselves. He saluted, vowing that he and his fellow wardens would do their utmost to help the Inquisition in the fight against Coryhpeus and correct Clarel's tragic mistake.
*
Hissing Wastes
The thick layers of clothing under the armor ward off the cold but not the wind. Every passing sweep dried her slowly and left fine sand behind. She had wrapped a length of cloth around the lower half of her helm and found that to be a bad idea. Her eyes were dry and horribly gritty. She fashioned a hood and her vision narrowed to a gap. It was fortunate they were in the month of the bright moon. Despite the darkness, the light of the moon kept the worst shadows at bay. If only it could keep the spirits away too. She had no idea what it was that they encountered four times on the dunes. It was no demon for it had a human form of an Andrastian pilgrim and it had left behind a bow for her. A spirit like Cole perhaps? Why should it come to her when she did not believe in the Maker?
Solas had not said much except a cryptic sound when the pilgrim disappeared. A friendly spirit of purpose was all he said. Sometimes she wished she could simply shake the answers out of him than waste time mouthing them.
*
Skyhold
The smell and sound of burning logs exuded a heady aura of warmth that enveloped Ellenth as she sat before the fireplace. She had been craving for it every minute she was at the Deep Roads, just to get the dank, the damp and the rot out of her mind. Now back at Skyhold, she could only think of the images and questions from the journey into the Deep Roads. So much knowledge of the past had been lost. For the dwarves, it had seemed deliberate. Why would any one erase the Titans from their history? Could it had been not deliberate but an accident? She couldn't imagine what could have happened that could erase all memory of the dwarves' association with the Titans. It disturbed her greatly for she felt something similar might have happened to her people too unless she had been misreading Solas's comments.
He was so frustrating oblique and his manner confusing at times. Sometimes when he looked her, there was that angry and sad brooding. It was doubtful he was angry with her personally, she had a feeling it was the vallaslin. A subject that he shut down rather abruptly when she did manage to bring it up.
"Inquisitor." She blinked at the unexpected call.
Seeing her startled bemusement at the intrusion, Cullen explained quickly. "I did call. I thought you might want to see this." He handed her a parchment, watching her intently as she read the report.
She caught the interest and absorbed attention when she looked up. A small smile of amusement lit her lips when he pulled his eyes away. She could understand his curiosity since it was the first time he had seen her with her hair loose. Most of the time she had the upper layer tied back in a small ponytail. She probably looked very different to him. She lifted the parchment. "So nothing could cut through the walls," she said.
His eyes met hers and he smiled self-consciously. "The engineers are the best. Short of borrowing some Qunari black powder, I don't see how we can get back to the Wellspring."
"Then we don't. Withdraw all our forces from that location. Josie will just have to inform Orzammar that the mine is lost." She handed the parchment back to him.
He took the paper. "That'll pleased them," he said dryly.
"They're more than welcomed to try to get back in there themselves but I doubt the Titan will oblige them."
He turned to head back down the stairs and stopped. "Do you get the feeling that the past is trying to tell us something?"
She stared at him in surprise. "Funny, I was just thinking about that. Everything that had happened. Corypheus, my people, the dwarves, the Titan." Her shoulders slumped. She closed her eyes wearily and shook her head. "I feel as if something is reaching back from the past, something buried that is now returning to tear the world asunder." She opened her eyes at the touch on her arm.
"You should rest," he said softly.
"I'm not having flights of whimsy."
"I don't think you are but I should not have brought it up. Not at this time when you're so tired."
"And you're not?"
"I haven't been in the saddle like you have for the past weeks. You'll feel wretched if you don't go to bed now. I should tell you Josie has lined up a list of issues to discuss with you tomorrow, " he added and bit back a grin at her groan of dismay. "So, to bed." He pointed to the bed and hurried down the stairs.
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ღ Aerial Flybys
61
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1
26,184
Obsidian Gryphon
10,128
August 2016
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ObsidianGryphon
Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition, KOTOR, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Jade Empire
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Post by Obsidian Gryphon on Feb 28, 2017 1:51:56 GMT
DAI PT Elven Inquisitor Elwyn (posted Feb 2017). Greatsword warrior.
Deep Descent
Elwyn didn't miss the anxious look the dwarves exchanged as the lift rumbled down. So they had misgivings too. Darkness swiftly enveloped them. The breeze that swept past them smelled musty instead of decay.
"This might take a while, we better go low," she said as she crouched down.
"Good point," said Varric. "I'd hate to have some flying batty knocking me off this platform."
A brief rustle and shuffle as everyone sat down. No one felt like conversing as the lift rumbled on and on. Elwyn couldn't imagine how the ancient dwarves or whoever it was had constructed it. The amount of materials and manpower that went into it had to be enormous. Why was it built in the first place? Was it just to mine lyrium? Questions whirled round and round in her head. She jumped when the lift suddenly shook beneath her as it came to a stop. Her legs protested as she stood up.
"Light a torch," Cass said.
An odd shiny flicker to the side caught Elwyn's eye. "Wait," she said softly.
"There's something out there," said Valta. "Do you feel it?"
"Are those eyes?" Cass said.
"They're around us," said Renn.
"Can they see us?" Elwyn wondered as pairs of bright blue lights winked in and out.
"Could be animals or ..," Renn muttered.
"We could go back," Varric said hopefully.
"We're not going back," Elwyn said firmly.
"It's just a suggestion," Varric muttered.
"I'll take point," said Elwyn. "Everyone linked up." She felt someone's hand brushed against her and grabbed it. "And this hand I'm pulling belongs to ..."
"Solas. I think I have Valta."
"If you feel a tug, then yes," said Valta.
"Have a care where you're wandering to..," came Cass's outraged voice.
"In this dark, surely a careless fumble is forgiven."
"Not if it happens again."
"Honestly Seeker, I wouldn't try you for all the lyrium in the world."
"We need to go," Elwyn cut in before the two could continue to bicker.
One by one, they linked up. Slowly and carefully, Elwyn led them off the platform. With one hand stretched out before her, she felt the contours of rocks that seemed to be a wall and followed them.
*
Crestwood
Greatsword. Easy meat. Elwyn could easily read the man's conviction as he charged at her with his shield, leaving his companions wide open to arrows. Dodging his charge was easy when he had to make extra effort against the slope. He showed he wasn't a complete novice when he pivoted smoothly, clearly intending to bring his arming sword to jab at her. She was already in motion as he made the turn, whirling her sword in loops. His sword was knocked out of his hand and his shield battered back against him, the edge hitting his helm face on.
He staggered, stunned. Before he could recover, she spun the greatsword out of the loops and struck the side of his helm with the flat of the blade. He dropped to the ground like a fell tree and moved no more. Elwyn looked up. Not a single bandit was standing. All her companions were accounted for.
"Any alive?" she asked as Cass walked over to her, cleaning her sword with some plucked grass before sheathing it.
"None," Cass said. "This one is still breathing but he won't make it either." She turned the bandit's head with a foot, showing the deep dent in the helm.
Elwyn shrugged. A dead bandit was good riddance, she'd hardly shed a tear. "The troops will clean this up," she said. "We're not far from Hawke's location. We can make it before night fall."
*
Exalted Plains
Sweat rolled off Elwyn's face as she struggled to control the pain. She tried not to curl up as Cass unbuckled the belt. The ties of the gambeson was more difficult to undo. Cass tried not to spat in annoyance when she fumbled. Speckles of darkness danced across Elwyn's eyes as another sharp flare of pain cut into her side.
"Almost there," Cass said grimly when Elwyn gave a painful wheeze. The loosen gambeson was tugged open. The tunic underneath was soaked with sweat. She pulled up the tunic gently. Seeping through the rent under the ribs was blood, the flesh around the wound was abnormally white, and a sickly looking yellowish pus. She wrinkled her nose at the familiar putrid smell of demon venom. "Solas."
Waiting for the summons outside the tent, the mage quickly came in with a basin, dropping the tent flap behind him to prevent curious eyes from looking in. His lips tightened when he saw the spread of the poison. "It has made some inroads but it has not spread too far yet. I can remove it." He looked at Elwyn. "This will hurt."
"Not any more than it is right now," she managed.
Solas nodded to Cass. "Hold her."
"Do you want a biter?" Cass asked as she shifted to lean over Elwyn.
"No."
"Now," Solas murmured as he moved to crouch over ELwyn's legs, his hands over the wound.
Grabbing Elwyn's shoulders, Cass bore down on her as magic flared. Needles seemed to stab into Elwyn's flesh. She would have wrenched away except that Cass's weight was holding her down, her legs couldn't move with Solas sitting on them. Stop it! Stop it! She wanted to scream at them. Something was digging into her, tearing her apart. She screamed.
*
Frostback Basin
Cass speared the slab of fried fish on her platter and lifted it. "It smells really good. Where did you get the fish?"
"Some of the boys tried their hand with the fishing nets and lines at the lake. Caught boxes of them," said Sanderson as he went around with the wooden platter, carefully slipping large slabs of hot fried fish on the plates of each companion, with extras for Iron Bull.
Elwyn tried a piece. Crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. The flesh was sweet. Sanderson disappeared with the empty platter and returned with another.
"And here, llomerryn red to go with the fish," he said, spooning out the sauce from a bowl on the tray. He halted before Elwyn and bowed. "For the Inquisitor, a specialty."
Elwyn stared at the golden brown patties he slide on her plate. "Hearth cakes?" she said in amazement. She hadn't seen or tasted a hearth cake in months. Not since she left the clan. She wondered if they would taste the same.
"I hope they meet your satisfaction," Sanderson said with a faint questioning tone when Elwyn only kept staring at the cakes.
He was waiting for her to taste them, Elwyn realised. She took one of the cakes and bit into it. She blinked. "You used halla butter," she said in surprise. "How do you know we use halla butter?"
"Ah, a good cook cannot limit himself to one pot, one knife or a single spice. He must forever be learning or how else can he satisfy the demands of his trade?"
"Are you saying you can cook anything?" Cass asked dubiously.
"My lady." Sanderson turned to her. "I'm yours to command. What would you like for your morning break?"
She stared at him, stumped at the swift turnabout , unable to think of any dish. "Well.."
"Perhaps the Blessed Apple?"
"You can make the Blessed Apple??" she said in disbelief.
"I would not have suggested it otherwise."
"Very well. We shall have the Blessed Apple for the morning break."
"As you say, my lady." Sanderson bowed.
What was the Blessed Apple? Elwyn itched to ask but she was enjoying the hearth cakes too much to bother at the moment. Though the taste brought a rush of homesickness, she pushed it away and savoured the cakes.
"By the by, where has Varric gone to?" Dorian asked. "He's missing all the nice food."
"I saw him at the cook tent," Iron Bull mumbled, shoveling in mouthsful of fish.
"What's he..," Cass began to ask when there came a loud crash. Everyone turned in the direction of the cook tent to see the line of soldiers to the food servers breaking up and retreating hurriedly. As one, the food servers rushed into the tent, fingers to their noses, hands waving at the air. "What has he done now?"
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 14:24:24 GMT
obsidian Gryphon wow, that's quite a bit. I have seen some of the parts on the DA thread, but I will read through on the way home. It is nice to have it together.
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Post by adrianbc on Feb 28, 2017 14:58:44 GMT
Nice images! If you can find it, try to read " Invisible Cities" by Italo Calvino. It`s beyond good. I`ve got 2`nd degree burns on my back once while reading it on the beach, and not moving. It`s the only book I`ve constantly bought when it was available (more than 10 copies) to gift it to all my interested friends. I read all your stories. They are extremely good. I particularly liked how you`ve fleshed out your Inquisitors (all of them) and Cassandra. ... and also the moment (context) chosen for each story. As for the Rite of Passage and the hidden plot elements, there was another reason for them missing: Varric is reacting differently compared to his cheery self. Think of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, naturally without the mbwhaha part ... just kidding a bit. Still, it`s a part of him he does not reveal casually. When I finish each one of these parts I`ll post it here before I will update the main story. I am curious how you will receive it.
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Post by adrianbc on Feb 28, 2017 16:43:27 GMT
As for how good "Invisible Cities" is (and is very short!), this is the ending chapter:
The Great Khan’s atlas contains also the maps of the promised lands visited in thought but not yet discovered or founded: New Atlantis, Utopia, the City of the Sun, Oceana, Tamoé, New Harmony, New Lanark, Icaria. Kublai asked Marco: “You, who go about exploring and who see signs, can tell me toward which of these futures the favoring winds are driving us.”
“For these ports I could not draw a route on the map or set a date for the landing. At times all I need is a brief glimpse, an opening in the midst of an incongruous landscape, a glint of lights in the fog, the dialogue of two passers-by meeting in the crowd, and I think that, setting out from there, I will put together, piece by piece, the perfect city, made of fragments mixed with the rest, of instants separated by intervals, of signals one sends out, not knowing who receives them. If I tell you that the city toward which my journey tends is discontinuous in space and time, now scattered, now more condensed, you must not believe the search for it can stop. Perhaps while we speak, it is rising, scattered, within the confines of your empire; you can hunt for it, but only in the way I have said.”
Already the Great Khan was leafing through his atlas, over the maps of the cities that menace in nightmares and maledictions: Enoch, Babylon, Yahooland, Butua, Brave New World. He said: “It is all useless, if the last landing place can only be the infernal city, and it is there that, in ever-narrowing circles, the current is drawing us.”
And Polo said: “The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.”
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Post by smilesja on Feb 28, 2017 19:22:00 GMT
There is a Dragon Age roleplaying section If you guys want to pass the time.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 19:50:27 GMT
There is a Dragon Age roleplaying section If you guys want to pass the time. ;) I really prefer fan-fiction because it follows the main characters in the games and revolves around the story-line. I like seeing other folks' takes on the same material more than participate in the coop make-your-own adventures in RP :)
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 10:47:54 GMT
One of the missing parts from Rite of Passage. About Varric acting like a true dwarven merchant prince...
Rite of Passage - missing part 1
They made it to the harbor at a brisk pace. Despite her height advantage, Edwina had to almost run in order to stay close to a very determined Varric. She kept glancing at her new boss, surprised by the radical change Varric went through in less than an hour. The first time she saw him at the tavern`s table, Varric looked disoriented, lost, and on edge. Almost jumpy. Now he was acting almost like a prince or king, which was … Of course, she realized suddenly. Noble House Tethras from Orzamar. One of the exiled houses, a recent exile at that. In Orzamar her new boss would have been almost a prince at his age. Probably raised and groomed to be one. And dwarven nobles are very serious about intelligence gathering and spying – more like paranoid, in fact. Apparently, she has made a very good choice this time.
Varric stopped suddenly. “Where?” he asked.
“Third pier,” came the answer.
The third pier was visible from where they were standing. There was no movement or light aboard any of the moored ships. Varric glanced briefly in the general direction of the ships, then started to move again, in the same decisive way. Away from the pier, and toward a secondary alley shrouded in darkness.
“Where are we … ?” dared to ask Edwina in a hushed voice.
“Warehouse 31,” came again the brief answer.
Edwina almost stopped. What the… Oh, the safe-place. She looked again curiously toward Varric. You`re much more than just a young dwarf, don`t you? This might be my best career move ever and to think I almost passed it … She kept the pace now with a new energy and goal.
If Edwina was constantly surprised by the new Varric, he was shocked inside. It was like something in his mind took control of him since he heard the words “Orzamar committee” in the tavern. Like some sort of a dwarven mind, growing slowly in the past years while accompanying Bartrand to the docks, ships, warehouses, markets and the smelly basement in Tethras mansion where his brother placed his real office. While reading business contracts and ledgers, books of Orzamar official history, dwarven symbolism and tradition. Bartrand you bastard, cursed Varric with his own mind, you`ve always known this day will come. But you never ever warned me about this shitty Rite of Passage.You also knew I was prepared even before me, don`t you brother?
They approached the warehouse. Varric stopped and looked to the right side of it, searching for the hidden door. There, he thought and extracted the lockpick set from his pocket. Picking the lock was piece of cake for a well-practiced Varric, who "trained" constantly during nights in the family mansion. The door opened with a muffled click, and Varric followed by Edwina slipped silently through. They were in a small hall of the sort, with only one door in front of them. Varric opened it and entered. Edwina followed.
The room was relatively small but well lit. It was furnished with several beds and a large table. There were three middle-aged dwarves sitting at the table, opposite to the door. They were rising slowly from their seats, their gaze fixed on Varric and Edwina.
“My Lord Dace,” said Varric with a bow, looking at the dwarf in the middle. “Lord Helmi, Lord Aeducan,” continued he, with slightly less pronounced bows, addressed to the other two dwarves. “Welcome to Kirkwall. I am Varric of House Tethras, at your service. I came to offer you proper accommodations during your stay in the city.”
“How do you know who I am?” asked Dace surprised. “We`ve never met.”
“Lord Anwer`s ceremonial Proving dagger is hard to miss, my lord,” said Varric confidently. “Or the family heraldry on your tunics, gentlemen,” continued he, looking also to the other two committee members. “I have expected your arrival for some time. May I escort you gentlemen to House Tethras`s mansion?”
“That`s hardly appropriate, master Varric,” said Dace. “We are here for an official business, concerning Orzamar.”
“This is why it would be more than appropriate, my lord. It`s unacceptable for high-ranking Orzamar officials to conduct any official business in such a place. Using House Tethras`s mansion as a residence would be bad manners only as guests of House Tethras. I am offering our mansion as a temporary residence for you, gentlemen. I will move out during your stay and negotiations with Kirkwall`s Merchant Guild.”
Dace smiled and looked at his two companions. Both of them returned his smile and bowed slightly. “We accept your gracious offer, Lord Tethras. However, we have to discuss something with you in private,” said Dace, looking at Edwina.
“She is my second and spymaster,” answered Varric the silent question. “A former Antivan Crow, now loyal to me only. I trust her with my life.”
It took Edwina all her training to not stare at Varric. But she succeeded to keep her pose.
“I see. Well then, let`s sit for a brief moment, gentlemen,” said Dace. He continued, after all of them sat down, with Varric and Edwina opposite the three dwarfs: “We were dispatched at the request of Lord Anwer Dace and under the patronage of King Endrin to conduct an investigation concerning the activities of Lord Torrold Meino on our behalf. There are many rumors about misconduct, illegal appropriation of profit and changes of ownership. If what we find will prove these rumors true, we are authorized to renegotiate our concessions with the Kirkwall Merchant Guild.”
“If this is the case, you gentlemen will find House Tethras`s mansion suitable in many ways,” said Varric with a smile. There are several documents of great interest for you. And of course, you will have our House clerks at your disposal for any kind of investigation you wish to conduct.”
“Then let`s go. It`s late, and we just finished a long journey,” concluded Dace and got up. All the other participants imitated him.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2017 14:49:36 GMT
@'obsidian gryphon' I decided to skip the inner monologues from the parts that I have not seen yet, but the Breach and the Haven entries were rather vivid, and are pretty fresh in my mind. The whole "did we fail" -I had the same feeling, it cannot be that easy! adrianbc I like the notion that Varrick almost cannot control his nature as dwarf and has to conform to something he has never known, because of his blood need. It was an interesting observation.
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 15:13:55 GMT
Every single companion from Hawke`s team carry some deep scars from the past. Aveline was twice a refugee. Once from Orlais and the second time from Ferelden. She survived Ostagar and lost her husband Wesley. I already started to write a story about her first year in Kirkwall. Fenris was probably a slave all his previous life, up to the point he rebelled and escaped, and then he was chased by Danarius. He understandably hates slavers and magisters. Isabela lived with her charlatan mother and then was sold into marriage. She learned almost everything by herself (some basic fighting skills from Zevran) and had to establish herself as captain and leader. Varric is also an exile and had to deal with his drunkard mother and his dear brother Bartrand. And created a job for himself. Sebastian was a prince, but also the 3`rd son, meaning he was expendable. He was shipped off to Kirkwall`s Chantry - probably as far away as possible from Starkhaven. Maybe because of his bad reputation. Most likely he hated the first years as a brother in Kirkwall, as much as Anders hated his years in Calenhad Circle. How bad is a place for you has a meaning only in context. What was a paradise compared to her previous life for Wynne was a savage prison for Anders. Still, Anders`s life was much better compared with Fenris`s or Isabela`s. How do I come to the conclusion that Anders did not enjoy the lessons about magic? First, all his comments about magic and demons are mostly borrowed, not his own. This is easy for me to identify with more than 25 years of teaching experience. He may not hate magic, he isn`t really a fan either. Magic is what made him lose his childhood world - friends, village & all. Also, you don`t escape seven times if you really like the place or what can you learn there. Anders stayed away from other mages (Except Karl) and most likely never matured in the Circle. He is definitely immature in Awakening. Anders changed after merging with Justice and became more mature and for the first time determined to accomplish a goal of his own. All in all, Hawke`s crew is a crazy and scarred bunch. All have interesting stories hidden away, just at arm`s reach. I intend to write some of them.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2017 15:15:10 GMT
I don't know if I will be able to capture my impressions of the whole neat story in Redcliffe Castle, before it fades from my memory, but here is the first bit I have finished, for Dorian. Ideally, I'd like a mini-snippet for each companion, Fiona & Leliana and the Resolution:
Whispers in the Dusk: Dorian
Knee-deep in cold, stinky water. Darkness and that unmistakable pressure of the stone and dirt overhead. A notch better than a sewer, but only a notch. A moment ago Dusk Fell was in a bright-lit, completely dry hall of the Redcliffe Castle chatting with the high and mighty. At a guess, she was now in the parts of the Castle not normally shown to the visitors of import.
Water made deceptively happy splashing sounds as someone waded over to Dusk Fell’s side. She studied the arrival as her eyes adjusted to the low light. Water came up to his mid-thigh, and he was wearing still fancy clothes. A human. A male. The expression on his face indicated he was sharply aware of the inconveniences and indignities they’ve suffered.
No more water-treading sounds.
She truly was locked up in a dungeon with a man of the least trustworthy occupation, looking as shifty as they came, and from a country notorious for its general… untrustworthiness. And she knew him for about half-an-hour. Well, he was all she’s got to work with.
“Dorian, your expert opinion on how we got here. Define “here” as well. On the double,” Dusk commanded.
“In my expert opinion, O Andraste’s Chosen, we are in a deep doo-doo,” Dorian retorted swiftly. It was as if he’d had that particular repartee ready for a while. “We must, we must.… “ he frowned and fished out the ends of his fancy silk sash from the water and wrung them out gently before tacking it into his belt.
“Focus, Pavus,” Dusk Fell prompted. “You were hired as an expert on Gereon Alexius.”
“Hired…” Dorian wiggled his fingers in front of his face, gave them a dainty sniff and squinted in disgust. “Hired is such an uncultured term. As I recall it, I offered you my valuable assistance because I earnestly empathize with your desire to save the world.”
Dorian produced a small flask of perfume out of his travelling belt, ignored Dusk Fell’s alarmed exclamation, and poured a generous drop on his hands. A strong flowery scent cut through the sewer stench. He proffered the vial to Dusk Fell. She backed off a step. “Don’t you dare,” she muttered.
Dorian shrugged, perfumed a lace-bordered handkerchief, and pinned it to his collar.
“Aha! I have it! My theory is that Gereon was dastardly enough to open a time rift to erase you and I from history.”
“Time rift…” Dusk Fell furrowed her brow. “Speak plainly, Pavus!”
“I just did,” Dorian insisted. “Oh, very well. The rift you have survived, Serrah, the rift that made you famous and indispensable, was a rift in the Fade. Very dangerous indeed, threatening the world as we know it, etc, etc, etc. Our gracious would-be host, Gereon, made a Rift in time. This is a lot of rifts to take in, but the bottom line is… we are still in a deep doo-doo, and must work swiftly to return you to the timeline we’ve just left so abruptly. I need to know more to tell you more, Holy Champion.”
Dusk Fell sighed and moved towards the staircase at the end of the hall.
Dorian followed with a cheerful: “Good call, Serrah.”
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 15:21:49 GMT
adrianbc I like the notion that Varrick almost cannot control his nature as dwarf and has to conform to something he has never known, because of his blood need. It was an interesting observation. It was in plain sight for us to see. Just remember that hysterical scene between Varric and Bartrand from DA2 Act 2 told to Cassandra. That scene is insane but also very "dwarvish". So I wanted for some time to write about Varric`s Mr. Hyde part. Now I`m off to read your new story ...
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 15:34:27 GMT
I like it! Again very alive. Dorian is great - a nice mix of humor, sarcasm, and customs. The interplay between Dorian and Dusk Fell sounds like one between a hacker slightly on the hippie side and a "standard" military officer.
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Post by Catilina on Mar 1, 2017 16:05:23 GMT
It's not about that really what life he had, rather how he lived through. He didn't want to accept his life in the Circle, he didn't want to accept the existence of the Circles. He considered that's awful places; I think, he was right, it could be terrible locked up in a tower for a life, if anyone was free before – he probably don't saw the end of his captivity. I can imagine, that he saw, that some delivering trustworthy enchanters be able to leave the Circle with temporary permission. But he didn't want to leave with permission. He wanted to leave, because he's a free man. He didn't want to be trustworthy in their eyes. So: he always chose to leave, of course, but not because he didn't interested in the magic, rather because when he saw the possibility, he ran away immediately. And he was teen, not wise. As he said to Meredith: "some mages remember that they are wolves". His whole life was about that he must never forget.
In Awakening he was probably immature (rather he used this behavior as cover: I'm-not-dangerous-I'm-charming-boy – as I see), but experienced, qualified mage. And yes, he was Andrastian, probably since birth, so he accepted, what he learned in the Circle, even if he wanted to know more, he wasn't really open minded, just wanted to be. He embraced his magical ability, but no matter how much he were distrustful against the Chantry, he wasn't capable to take himself away the Chantry's disciplines.
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 16:35:02 GMT
It's not about that really what life he had, rather how he lived through. He didn't want to accept his life in the Circle, he didn't want to accept the existence of the Circles. He considered that's awful places; I think, he was right, it could be terrible locked up in a tower for a life, if anyone was free before – he probably don't saw the end of his captivity. I can imagine, that he saw, that some delivering trustworthy enchanters be able to leave the Circle with temporary permission. But he didn't want to leave with permission. He wanted to leave, because he's a free man. H e didn't want to be trustworthy in their eyes. So: he always chose to leave, of course, but not because he didn't interested in the magic, rather because when he saw the possibility, he ran away immediately. And he was teen, not wise. As he said to Meredith: "some mages remember that they are wolves". His whole life was about that he must never forget. In Awakening he was probably immature (rather he used this behavior as cover: I'm-not-dangerous-I'm-charming-boy – as I see), but experienced, qualified mage. And yes, he was Andrastian, probably since birth, so he accepted, what he learned in the Circle, even if he wanted to know more, he wasn't really open minded, just wanted to be. He embraced his magical ability, but no matter how much he were distrustful against the Chantry, he wasn't capable to take himself away the Chantry's disciplines. You are really obsessed by Anders, and by Anders only! Why don`t you try to write a story about Anders`s previous life in the Circle? Or about one of his escapes? It will allow you to create his whole personality, instead of those small snippets presented us in Awakening and DA2.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2017 17:30:13 GMT
It's not about that really what life he had, rather how he lived through. He didn't want to accept his life in the Circle, he didn't want to accept the existence of the Circles. He considered that's awful places; I think, he was right, it could be terrible locked up in a tower for a life, if anyone was free before – he probably don't saw the end of his captivity. I can imagine, that he saw, that some delivering trustworthy enchanters be able to leave the Circle with temporary permission. But he didn't want to leave with permission. He wanted to leave, because he's a free man. H e didn't want to be trustworthy in their eyes. So: he always chose to leave, of course, but not because he didn't interested in the magic, rather because when he saw the possibility, he ran away immediately. And he was teen, not wise. As he said to Meredith: "some mages remember that they are wolves". His whole life was about that he must never forget. In Awakening he was probably immature (rather he used this behavior as cover: I'm-not-dangerous-I'm-charming-boy – as I see), but experienced, qualified mage. And yes, he was Andrastian, probably since birth, so he accepted, what he learned in the Circle, even if he wanted to know more, he wasn't really open minded, just wanted to be. He embraced his magical ability, but no matter how much he were distrustful against the Chantry, he wasn't capable to take himself away the Chantry's disciplines. You are really obsessed by Anders, and by Anders only! :) Why don`t you try to write a story about Anders`s previous life in the Circle? Or about one of his escapes? It will allow you to create his whole personality, instead of those small snippets presented us in Awakening and DA2. +1 will read Anders previous escape/adventure.
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Post by Catilina on Mar 1, 2017 17:33:44 GMT
Because it is very easy to understand Anders, and almost equally easy to understand Anders with Justice. His/their motivations are simple. I'm just simple, and I don't have enough writing talent.
But for example Sebastian: third(!) child of a ruling family, he's no matter. He wants to be heir, but he know, he never will be, then he start to live scandalous life. In response, his family sends him to the Chantry. No more shame, burden. Interestingly he can accept this life, in fact, he found his purpose of life in the Chantry, and he already seems, he matters: they give meaning to his existence. When his family is killed, on the one hand, he sad and angry, on the other hand, his hopes for the throne returned. This latter he tries to deny, but he's not able to deny himself (after his personal quest, he told to Hawke, that he feel dirty because the desire demon was right). I think, he really loved Elthina (just as Alistair loved Duncan). He's not a hypocrite. (How much people hate him because they see him as ha hypocrite!) He really believe the Maker, Andraste, and accept the Chantry's teaching, he has true faith, but his nature isn't as pious, what he really want. He has much more anger and vengeance inside than he would like. And finally, he is the man, who act from pure personal revenge, not Fenris (about him maybe later), nor Anders.
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Post by adrianbc on Mar 1, 2017 17:59:17 GMT
Anders is not simple at all. More likely he is the most complicated character in all DA2, because of Justice. I will write stories about him after he merged with Justice but I need more time to prepare. And I have some first-hand experience about multiple personalities (I interacted with some cases years ago). Sebastian is quite close to Varric minus his dwarven "sense" plus the entitlement Aveline talks about. Just watch him when he`s angry: very princely and not brotherly. About writing: You`ll never know until you will try. At least once. The first time I wrote something, I was 10 years old. My classmates from school wanted to do a Puss in Boots stage play. I disliked the idea so much that I promised to write a contemporary stage play in less than a week. I finished a 3 act play in four days. I was voted down by my classmates. They just wanted the damn puss. I was angry and refused to take any role in the play. Ended up playing the blasted Puss in Boots anyway. In short, just try it. Start with an idea; choose a crucial moment from Anders`s life, and an appropriate context (place, characters). And imagine the events unfolding. Then write them down.
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Post by Catilina on Mar 1, 2017 19:56:57 GMT
Oh, I see, I worded badly: Yes, he's complicated, just I feel, easy to understand to me. Loneliness and helplessness, rejection and incomprehension, anger and painful urgency to remedy injustice. And the desire for a normal, peaceful life. And other feelings and circumstances that have been talked about, Justice and Anders personality, and the corrupted Justice and Anders personality. And what is Justice, and how corrupt is he, and when he corrupted... You're right, my opinion is just one angle of view, not the only.
Varric is different than Sebastian, but yes, their background similar, with some significant different: House of Tethras is not ruler family, and out of favor, Varric and Bartrand are dependent on each other, in fact, Bartrand, the first born depends on Varric, because Varric is the clever one between them – at least I saw: Bartrand wanted the expedition, but Varric was, who implemented that. So: I think, this is why Varric isn't so frustrated and vengeful as Sebastian. He's home burned down, but he still retained Hawke's secret, even if s/he supported Anders and was together with him. (As I see, but perhaps I'm wrong.)
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2017 22:09:54 GMT
Because it is very easy to understand Anders, and almost equally easy to understand Anders with Justice. His/their motivations are simple. I'm just simple, and I don't have enough writing talent. Have you tried comic strip/graphic novel style? Your drawings are lovely.
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