trusthell | i'll wait, so show me why you're strong

[ Generally, people need time to cope and gather themselves after a... thing... like that. Unfortunately, that's not how Vanille sees it. Her thing is avoid, and once she gets out of that hellhole that's the courtroom, she makes her way to the supplies closet, then to the library. She spends some time setting up things, pushing things aside to make room. Once she's finished, and she's met up with the Party Brigade, she makes enough invitations for everyone. She slips them under everyone's doors, or hands them out if she sees someone walking around.

Inside the library, there are candles set up to provide some soft, comforting lighting. There are pots of tea, courtesy of Mercy, pancakes made by Viktor, and books (picked out by Estelle, of course) laid out on the surrounding tables. The others have provided their own touches, and Vanille's even managed to make something: sugar cookies, which are actually very good. They're flavored lightly with all sorts of flavors--not all in the same cookie, okay--and each plate is marked with whatever flavor she's put in them.

After a successful trial, it's healthy to indulge, right? Let's mingle. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Grimleal. Dark magic. Exactly what would be capable of something like that.

[He waves a hand, which doesn't really explain anything but he's indicating the thing in the pit.]

[Varric's mouth set itself into a firm line. He approached the king, settling down on the same step as him, but a handful of feet away.]

You have shit like that where you're from too, then?

Of course! It seems not everyone is quite as lucky as the two of us, though.

[It's sarcastic, of course.]

So tell me, is it an evil dark magic cult where you're from as well?

Maker, it'd actually be a relief if it was a cult. [At least then it would be localized, to some degree. Manageable. Not to mention considerably more easy to condemn.]

Anyone with magic can make that happen. It's just a matter of whether or not you let the demons get in your head. [He reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose.] They're enticing, too. They want that kind of power. And once you let it happen, it becomes the kind of shit that'll destroy cities.

Really? Well, we don't have anything of the sort where I'm from. Magic is perfectly safe, assuming you've studied enough and know what you're doing. Dark magic's dangerous, but even that doesn't involve demons in your head. Probably.

[wow.]

[Did he actually unnerve Gangrel of all people? Thedas must sound a lot scarier than he thought.]

Consider yourself lucky. Magic like that just creates problems. If it isn't the mages themselves, it's the people locking them away, claiming protection. It's a fight that won't ever have any winners.

[For now, the fighting at least seemed to have settled back home, but Varric wasn't convinced that it was over completely. Magic and fear both went hand-in-hand, and both were equally as dangerous. He doubted it would be long before something disrupted the balance yet again.]

It certainly sounds like you all have quite the interesting struggle going on.

[man and all he has to worry about is taking over two countries.....]

Yeah. [A laugh.] Would you believe me if I said that wasn't even the half of it?

Well now I'm curious! Go on.

[STORY TIME!!!]

[Story time for the storyteller. You people really need to stop encouraging this man. Except not really, it's a good distraction from all his bad feelings.]

Little backstory first. Long time ago, this group of people, magisters, we call them, thought it'd be a good idea to plunge into the Fade -- our spirit world -- in the hopes of seeing the Golden City. Paradise. Seat of our God.

It didn't end well, and they were cast out with an awful disease. The Taint, we called it. And where it infected, it created mindless, bloodthirsty things that could only be brought under control by one thing: Old Gods in the form of dragons.

Darkspawn naturally gravitate toward those blighted things, and so they spend centuries digging for them. When they finally succeed, you have what we call a Blight, a massive force of undead things led by an undead fucking dragon.

Last one damn near destroyed an entire country.

[Exactly, that's what everyone needs right now!!]

Sounds like quite the mess! We don't have anything precisely like that, but we do have undead things and if the stories are to be believed the god the Grimleal worship is a dragon, so it's interesting that we have that in common.

With that said... I'm genuinely surprised anyone thought going to search for the seat of a god would be a good idea. That's the sort of thing you just don't mess with.

But anyway, what happened to the country if it wasn't destroyed? Did someone manage to kill the undead dragon?

I don't know about you, but I'm of the opinion that dragons make shitty gods. [Nothing good ever comes from Dragon worship, kids.]

Guess they hadn't invented common sense back then. [But he knew that wasn't true. It was more a case of inflated egos and god complexes. He'd get to that part of the story later -- right now it was more important to set the scene.] Just... keep that business in mind, will you? It's important later.

As for what happened, it's... complicated. When they first heard of the Blight, King Cailan amassed an army and marched forth, joining with the few remaining Grey Warden's in the country. The Wardens are the only people who can kill an Archdemon, the fancy term for an undead dragon. Unfortunately, his trusted general had little faith in the king, who was admittedly, a little overzealous. In the midst of the battle, the general pulled his forces out, leaving the bulk of the army to be overrun.

Two Grey Wardens and a blighted dog made it out of that. Only them, out of thousands.

Back at the capitol, the general seized control, putting his daughter, the late king's wife, in power. His actions sowed quite a bit of dissent, and it only got worse as time grew on. Those Grey Warden's were witnesses to his crimes, and even though they were now sprinting across Fereldan in an attempt to pull together enough forces to stand up against the coming onslaught, he sought to assassinate them.

Thankfully, he failed.

[Varric paused to hold back a laugh, disguising it as a need for a deep breath. Put so succinctly, the tale of the Fifth Blight sounded ridiculous, even though he had lived through it. How all that and much, much more had happened all within the span of a decade was beyond him.]

...Huh.

[For a moment he's quiet, taking all of that in.]

Well, it sounds like your world has certainly been through rough times! It almost makes all the struggles my people have been through seem utterly pointless!

[Not that he thinks that, of course. He's still very mad about the Ylisseans.]

So I'm assuming those Wardens rose up, rallied against him?

Still not the worst of it either. But we can get to that later. Especially if you find me a drink. [A laugh.]

Anyways. The Wardens would rise up, but first they needed allies. Ferelden's best were either killed in action or ran from the fight. There was no way two kids were going to fell the army by itself.

The Wardens were smart though. A long time back, they created treaties with the various groups around the country -- the elves, the dwarves and the mages. So that's what they went and did.

Once they had their army though, they faced a pretty big problem. Ferelden was still under the grips of a traitor, and they had no true leader. Or at least, that's what they thought.

Turns out, one of the Wardens had a secret. He was no run of the mill bastard, but a royal one, and the last remaining heir to the Theirin line.

Now all they had to do was usurp the tyrant.

Hah! And let me guess, they managed that as well?

[While he's not usually here for happy endings, he does love a good underdog story.]

I doubt I would be here if they hadn't. [Varric shrugged.]

With the Warden, Alistair, installed as king, all that was left to do was fight the Archdemon. It was a vicious battle, and it nearly leveled half the capitol, but in the end, the Wardens prevailed.

It... wasn't without tragedy of course. Not many stories are. The only way to kill an Archdemon is to take its soul into yourself, something that only the Wardens can do. And that's exactly what the Hero of Ferelden did.

[No happy endings here, Gangrel. At least not entirely happy ones.]

i'll wait, so show me why you're strong

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i promise varric will be done running his mouth with this next tag.

IT'S FINE DON'T WORRY

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