[let's use the new locations so this is out near the entrance to the lighthouse, but shadowheart has stopped her exploring around when she's suddenly been overcome by affection week. she hears a chirping sound from a bush as the owlbear cub comes trundling back out from whatever pile of trash it was rooting around, some french fries in his mouth.
and shadowheart instantly starts talking to him in a baby voice]
There you are! Getting into trouble, are you? Don't get me kicked out of here, please.
[she will also throw her arms around his fluffy neck and start petting his feathers while she continues to baby voice at him.]
[ this creature holds ZERO appeal for him but he will vaguely reach a hand down for it to. i dont know. do owl bears sniff. probably just bite him. ]
I've never heard of one, but it doesn't mean they don't exist in Thedas. The Tevinter Magisters supposedly love to create strange new creatures.
A proper griffon on the other hand ... when I joined the Wardens they do make a big fuss - all the romantic books about heroic, handsome warriors riding one into battle against the darkspawn and flying dashingly across the sky and then they pull the rug and you find out they're all extinct. False advertising if you ask me.
[ PULLING HIS HAND BACK, fixing the owlbear with a frown. betrayal. shaking his hand out, sticking his thumb in his mouth where it got bit. ]
The Grey Wardens. We're supposed to fight the Darkspawn, stop Blights and such, but when there's no Blight on, it's a lot of long patrols, wandering the blasted Deep Roads, and wading through horrible swamps. And dealing with broodmothers. [ a. visible shudder. ] You don't exactly join up as much as get conscripted. I left, as much as one can leave the Wardens. It's mostly a life-long deal, for whatever shortened life that is. At the time it seemed like a good idea.
[making like a scolding a cat but you know it's not going to listen so it's half-hearted noise at tmy he owlbear.]
Do you get paid? I feel I have had to endure similar work of late, only for no coin other than that I make selling individual knives back to merchants. Maybe I ought to collect a salary.
[ yes yes he understands. this in fact endears him to the owlbear a great deal. ]
Does the merry band of misfit criminals, murderers and apostate mages get paid to throw themselves headlong into a tainted hole in the ground full of tentacles and childergrubs? You get a helping of weak cheese, strong drink and a fairly snazzy uniform and freedom to help yourself to whatever trinkets you can dig out of the ruins or trouser pockets of bandits.
But in gold? No. Are there more of you in your group? You should consider forming a collective for bargaining power.
[ well. he sorta did. through anonymous donations to the clinic. anyway shadowheart if youre doing an origins run the YOU should be doing the payouts. ]
[ shadowheart i hate to point it out but you are also a violent, wandering vagrant who wanders around in nasty sharran temples full of old blood. ]
Now? When I left the Wardens I went to Kirkwall. There's no Warden outpost, a good deal of Blight refugees from Ferelden to blend in with. And a friend of mine had been sent to their Circle and I'd hoped I could free him.
I run a clinic for the refugees and odd jobs for Hawke, when I'm not doing work for the Mage Underground. Or was, I guess. Before Meredith crushed our network.
[ staring at the ground now, fists clenched and glaring a hole in it. that's fine! ]
[ oh boy oh boy oh boy he gets to give a mage rights rant ]
The Circle is our prison. Chantry law says that Mages are to be taken to the Circle as soon as our magic appears. One day you’re a child in a ratspit village in the middle of nowhere, and the next you are arrested and clapped in irons by the Templars, and dragged away from your family to a tower to be locked away. You have your blood taken so if you try to run they can always find you. They demand obedience at the end of a Templar sword, you are to study magic to enrich the Chantry, heal their sick and entertain their guests, but nothing beyond what they approve. You cannot love anyone, and if you make the mistake of doing it anyway and it ends with a child, they will take that child the moment it is born and send it to a Chantry Orphanage.
If you try to run, if you step a foot out of line, they track you down and drag you back and beat you senseless or throw you in a cage. Sometimes both, for fun. Your options as you grow up are the Harrowing or Tranquility. You either face a demon in the Fade - where you will either emerge victorious and terrified, or die. Or you can submit to the lyrium brand, where they burn out all your magic, your emotions, your desires, your free will, and leave you an empty husk.
If you do manage to escape, through luck or bravery, you’re labeled apostate. Or maleficar. They’ll hang you if only to make a point, or brand you to make you a walking, breathing example of obedience. The mage underground was our way of helping others escape - for however long they could manage on their own. When you’re raised in a Circle, you don’t know what life is like outside of its walls. You don’t know how to use money, or feed yourself, even running is a skill you need to learn. We do our best.
...It's so different, where I'm from. I wouldn't say magic is common, but it's certainly not hated that way. Being a wizard is, if anything, a bit prestigious. I suppose there is suspicion of those whose magic comes from certain sources.
Some are granted their magic from patrons - devils, liches, fey entities - wicked beings of great power. Or from gods that are considered evil, to a degree. It's a little different than learning magic from a book, or because you're blessed by one of the more acceptable gods.
[on the other hand her god is evil but the holy magic all looks the same.]
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week 0; monday
and shadowheart instantly starts talking to him in a baby voice]
There you are! Getting into trouble, are you? Don't get me kicked out of here, please.
[she will also throw her arms around his fluffy neck and start petting his feathers while she continues to baby voice at him.]
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Is that .. an incredibly fat griffon?
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Ah, no. He's an owlbear. He is incredibly fat, though. He's been eating all the french fries.
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Ah. [ at least the name is really descriptive? ] So no cat parts at all?
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I've never heard of one, but it doesn't mean they don't exist in Thedas. The Tevinter Magisters supposedly love to create strange new creatures.
A proper griffon on the other hand ... when I joined the Wardens they do make a big fuss - all the romantic books about heroic, handsome warriors riding one into battle against the darkspawn and flying dashingly across the sky and then they pull the rug and you find out they're all extinct. False advertising if you ask me.
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These don't fly, but they do grow big enough to be mounts. What is a warden...?
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[ PULLING HIS HAND BACK, fixing the owlbear with a frown. betrayal. shaking his hand out, sticking his thumb in his mouth where it got bit. ]
The Grey Wardens. We're supposed to fight the Darkspawn, stop Blights and such, but when there's no Blight on, it's a lot of long patrols, wandering the blasted Deep Roads, and wading through horrible swamps. And dealing with broodmothers. [ a. visible shudder. ] You don't exactly join up as much as get conscripted. I left, as much as one can leave the Wardens. It's mostly a life-long deal, for whatever shortened life that is. At the time it seemed like a good idea.
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Do you get paid? I feel I have had to endure similar work of late, only for no coin other than that I make selling individual knives back to merchants. Maybe I ought to collect a salary.
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Does the merry band of misfit criminals, murderers and apostate mages get paid to throw themselves headlong into a tainted hole in the ground full of tentacles and childergrubs? You get a helping of weak cheese, strong drink and a fairly snazzy uniform and freedom to help yourself to whatever trinkets you can dig out of the ruins or trouser pockets of bandits.
But in gold? No. Are there more of you in your group? You should consider forming a collective for bargaining power.
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[ well. he sorta did. through anonymous donations to the clinic. anyway shadowheart if youre doing an origins run the YOU should be doing the payouts. ]
What kind of work is it you do?
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I am a humble traveling cleric.
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And you died in this humble line of work?
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There is a cult trying to conquer the world and they're obsessed with me even though I'm pledged to another. You know how it is.
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Have to say this might be a new one for me. And I've had a lot of weird experiences.
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[homeless gutter person...]
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Now? When I left the Wardens I went to Kirkwall. There's no Warden outpost, a good deal of Blight refugees from Ferelden to blend in with. And a friend of mine had been sent to their Circle and I'd hoped I could free him.
I run a clinic for the refugees and odd jobs for Hawke, when I'm not doing work for the Mage Underground. Or was, I guess. Before Meredith crushed our network.
[ staring at the ground now, fists clenched and glaring a hole in it. that's fine! ]
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And what is a circle, exactly? Or the mage underground?
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The Circle is our prison. Chantry law says that Mages are to be taken to the Circle as soon as our magic appears. One day you’re a child in a ratspit village in the middle of nowhere, and the next you are arrested and clapped in irons by the Templars, and dragged away from your family to a tower to be locked away. You have your blood taken so if you try to run they can always find you. They demand obedience at the end of a Templar sword, you are to study magic to enrich the Chantry, heal their sick and entertain their guests, but nothing beyond what they approve. You cannot love anyone, and if you make the mistake of doing it anyway and it ends with a child, they will take that child the moment it is born and send it to a Chantry Orphanage.
If you try to run, if you step a foot out of line, they track you down and drag you back and beat you senseless or throw you in a cage. Sometimes both, for fun. Your options as you grow up are the Harrowing or Tranquility. You either face a demon in the Fade - where you will either emerge victorious and terrified, or die. Or you can submit to the lyrium brand, where they burn out all your magic, your emotions, your desires, your free will, and leave you an empty husk.
If you do manage to escape, through luck or bravery, you’re labeled apostate. Or maleficar. They’ll hang you if only to make a point, or brand you to make you a walking, breathing example of obedience. The mage underground was our way of helping others escape - for however long they could manage on their own. When you’re raised in a Circle, you don’t know what life is like outside of its walls. You don’t know how to use money, or feed yourself, even running is a skill you need to learn. We do our best.
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And all of that is what happened to you?
[that's why you're like this. this horrible guy that you are.]
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I know how to run. I didn't have to learn that.
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...It's so different, where I'm from. I wouldn't say magic is common, but it's certainly not hated that way. Being a wizard is, if anything, a bit prestigious. I suppose there is suspicion of those whose magic comes from certain sources.
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[ Ok ! The Rant is over ! I'm Calmer !
Well I'm not Calm but I Got so upset i tired myself out ! ]
Certain sources ... ?
[ hes making a face like he has a suspicion ]
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Some are granted their magic from patrons - devils, liches, fey entities - wicked beings of great power. Or from gods that are considered evil, to a degree. It's a little different than learning magic from a book, or because you're blessed by one of the more acceptable gods.
[on the other hand her god is evil but the holy magic all looks the same.]
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