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Post by mark amell on May 17, 2014 22:54:01 GMT
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he smiles mirthlessly and looks in the direction of kirkwall. he never had anything to lose. that is real freedom, he thinks.
"i was never given a history. when i finally found it, i realized that it no longer felt like mine."
mark is not unaware that he is treading into dangerous territory, as he has always done. his grip around his staff tightens slightly, just in case.
"perhaps it has moved on. perhaps it is no longer mine to claim." he had hoped that he is wrong. anyone can tell a story. "if you would accuse me of not knowing what it was like to be stolen from, i would tell you that you are right." he has nothing of value.
Leithian |  |
coded by electric of gs |
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ELF
“ a growing recognition of the genius of birds. ”
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Post by Leithian on May 18, 2014 15:09:59 GMT
the years of rice and salt
| She manages to twist her mouth into something that resembles a smile.
"Humans truly lead blessed lives," she says. "Perhaps your Maker really does smile upon your race. What you lose, you don't even care for when you find again. You can't even be stolen from. It makes sense, I suppose, if I think about it sideways. What is the point of laying claim to anything when the entire world is yours? When you can go anywhere and have anything, what does it matter if you left something behind."
She either doesn't notice his hand tightening on the staff or ignores it.
mark amell
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LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by mark amell on May 18, 2014 15:34:35 GMT
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he understands that he is being insulted. he remembers the history of the racial conflict between their kind. mark also knows better than to argue with a dalish elf who has made up her mind about something. that usually lead to pain, and he's studied enough about elemental magic to know a painful hand of winter when he sees one.
instead, he decides to be a little turd.
"that's an optimistic way of looking at things, actually. it really puts the templars in perspective." in a way, it is. regardless if her technicalities are true or not.
wait. they've been talking for nearly half an hour now, over the corpses of half-dead or dead templars. is this a monday? this has got to be a monday.
"i haven't even asked for your name -- where are my manners?" misplaced in kirkwall, most likely. "although i suppose it would be a matter of your willingness to give it."
Leithian | |
coded by electric of gs |
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ELF
“ a growing recognition of the genius of birds. ”
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Post by Leithian on May 19, 2014 13:59:27 GMT
the years of rice and salt
| "You're joking," Leithian says. Humans love their jokes. She wonders if they take anything seriously besides themselves. She's still not seen definitive proof.
"Or you're trying to. But it's true. Throw away that staff, shemlen. You don't even need it to cast spells, if you have the necessary focus and strength of will. Now walk into any city, anywhere. No templars will bother you. You'll be as untroubled as you like, as free as a bird, provided you have an ounce of sense. But I can't step out of my own skin."
mark amell
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LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by mark amell on May 19, 2014 19:54:00 GMT
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he chuckles. "you got me." the templars used to be so literal about these sorts of things, so it was probably a lot funnier to him than it was to her.
"i've definitely thought about it, i assure you" after every drawn out templar chase, actually. "my reasons for keeping my staff are embarrassingly sentimental, though."
downright impractical, really.
"what about you? i mean, i see that elves have it pretty tough, but not having to look out for templars would help anyone a lot."
Leithian | |
coded by electric of gs |
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