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"Metaphores" by Sylvia Plath
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Ok. :) I'm sorry to point you in the position then. Although I suppose it was bound to happen with a Templar x Mage.
So I was repaying Dragon Age Origins and was doing the into mage route. It turns out once your character wakes up from the Harrowing, the conversation she overhears mentions a mage named Wendell. Lol. Totally random coincidence.
Kaitlyn could hardly mask the distain she felt for this other woman. Clearly she did not know as much about the Rite of Tranquility as she claimed. For one, it wasn’t easily accomplished. It took the permission of both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. While it was used historically for punishment or control, that wasn’t the case for her friend Wendell. Wendell had passed the Harrowing, but had delved too deep and too quickly into the arcane. One day he showed up in her rooms, begging for help. Eventually he volunteered to undergo the rite, although if he hadn’t agreed, she doubted he would have been given a choice. Wendell had been her closest friend and it hurt every day to see him chained this way, although she did her best to hide it. But for the Keeper to call him an abomination angered Kaitlyn to such a degree that she was quickly losing any patience she’d been pretending to possess. Wendell was Tranquil so that he could never become an abomination.
“You will allow…” her voice caught as she stumbled over the correct words, “this mage to be escorted to the Circle because that is the agreement. The Dalish are allowed to roam freely throughout Thedas so long as you do not interfere with the law. You will allow me to take her-“ Kaitlyn felt a pressure on her arm. Wendell stepped closer to her.
“You should stop.”
“No. I will not stop,” She was right. The Templers were right. These elves were in the wrong. And they needed to be told so. “You will allow me to take her because if we do not arrive at the nearest Circle within a week, the Templars will hunt her down as an apostate. They will find her eventually. It would be different if she were actually your child,” Kaitlyn said point an accusatory hand at the other woman, “And while you might have raised her as one, and while you might have loved her is one, the fact is that she is not. She is not an elf, she is a human. Dwarves cannot do magic. Dark spawn cannot use enchantments. Human mages go to the Circle. That is the way of the Maker.”
“I am not here to be a threat, or to be disrespectful,” Wendell began his words slow and haunting, “I am here because I choose to accompany Lady Kaitlyn. When I no longer choose to follow her, I no longer will. As a Tranquil, I have the ability to live out a peaceful and useful existence. It was my choice. There are few choices for human mages who do not learn to properly control the Fade.”
“You will allow…” her voice caught as she stumbled over the correct words, “this mage to be escorted to the Circle because that is the agreement. The Dalish are allowed to roam freely throughout Thedas so long as you do not interfere with the law. You will allow me to take her-“ Kaitlyn felt a pressure on her arm. Wendell stepped closer to her.
“You should stop.”
“No. I will not stop,” She was right. The Templers were right. These elves were in the wrong. And they needed to be told so. “You will allow me to take her because if we do not arrive at the nearest Circle within a week, the Templars will hunt her down as an apostate. They will find her eventually. It would be different if she were actually your child,” Kaitlyn said point an accusatory hand at the other woman, “And while you might have raised her as one, and while you might have loved her is one, the fact is that she is not. She is not an elf, she is a human. Dwarves cannot do magic. Dark spawn cannot use enchantments. Human mages go to the Circle. That is the way of the Maker.”
“I am not here to be a threat, or to be disrespectful,” Wendell began his words slow and haunting, “I am here because I choose to accompany Lady Kaitlyn. When I no longer choose to follow her, I no longer will. As a Tranquil, I have the ability to live out a peaceful and useful existence. It was my choice. There are few choices for human mages who do not learn to properly control the Fade.”
Kaitlyn and Wendell were forced to leave their horses tied up just outside the Dalish camp. While she wasn’t thrilled at the idea, their two escorts, lithe male elves who appeared to be much more muscular and healthier that their city dwelling brethren, insisted that the large animals might upset the halla.
Kaitlyn wasn’t sure what she had expected a Dalish camp to look like. She’d never seen one first hand and only had heard rumors, most convoluted by racism. The camp itself was clean and seemed to be well organized. Beautiful, intricately carved aravels created an outer ring around several camp fires. Everyone was moving about, working on a task, although most paused to shoot her and Wendell angry looks as they passed by. It was clear that their escorts where leading them to a centralized tent that more than likely was owned by the Keeper.
Kaitlyn’s scanned around the area as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. An older male elf looked to be consoling a young woman. ”Wait, no,” Kaitlyn’s mind raced, ”That can’t be too her! She’s much too old.” She had been expected the mage the Dalish had been harboring to be a young child, ten at the most, but the person in front of her was clearly an adult.
“Andaran atish’an”, the Keeper said when he noticed the Templar and her companion.
“Ma serannas,” Kaitlyn said and placed a fist over her heart. Although she had practiced the words many times on the ride over, she knew she had mangled them significantly. “I am Knight-Corporal McKarth. This is my companion Wendell Ethengaurd.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Wendell pronounced and bowed low at the waist. As always his voice was flat and lifeless. Those words were only words, a simple habit of his previous life.
“I must say I expected someone much younger,” Kaitlyn said, still fully focused on the Keeper. “Had we know she was so old…” Kaitlyn struggled with how to express her immense irritation at the situation. Didn’t the Keeper know he was putting everyone’s lives in danger? Maybe the elves had some sort of secret ritual to keep the daemons away. Still, they were days away from the Circle with hordes dark spawn lurking in between. Kaitlyn had expected to escort a placid child, not a ticking time bomb.
Kaitlyn wasn’t sure what she had expected a Dalish camp to look like. She’d never seen one first hand and only had heard rumors, most convoluted by racism. The camp itself was clean and seemed to be well organized. Beautiful, intricately carved aravels created an outer ring around several camp fires. Everyone was moving about, working on a task, although most paused to shoot her and Wendell angry looks as they passed by. It was clear that their escorts where leading them to a centralized tent that more than likely was owned by the Keeper.
Kaitlyn’s scanned around the area as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. An older male elf looked to be consoling a young woman. ”Wait, no,” Kaitlyn’s mind raced, ”That can’t be too her! She’s much too old.” She had been expected the mage the Dalish had been harboring to be a young child, ten at the most, but the person in front of her was clearly an adult.
“Andaran atish’an”, the Keeper said when he noticed the Templar and her companion.
“Ma serannas,” Kaitlyn said and placed a fist over her heart. Although she had practiced the words many times on the ride over, she knew she had mangled them significantly. “I am Knight-Corporal McKarth. This is my companion Wendell Ethengaurd.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Wendell pronounced and bowed low at the waist. As always his voice was flat and lifeless. Those words were only words, a simple habit of his previous life.
“I must say I expected someone much younger,” Kaitlyn said, still fully focused on the Keeper. “Had we know she was so old…” Kaitlyn struggled with how to express her immense irritation at the situation. Didn’t the Keeper know he was putting everyone’s lives in danger? Maybe the elves had some sort of secret ritual to keep the daemons away. Still, they were days away from the Circle with hordes dark spawn lurking in between. Kaitlyn had expected to escort a placid child, not a ticking time bomb.
I'm going to describe the Dalish camp if that's alright with you.
Quote: “They say I’m a hero, but tell me, does a hero murder their friend?”
Name: Kaitlyn McKarth
Race: Human Noble
Class: Templar (Knight-Corporal)
Background:
Other:
Katilyn keeps a locket around her neck that houses a picture of Wendell prior to hm being made Tranquil.
-http://www.nicolecadet.com
In the distance I hear the shots. I play their rhythm over and over in my head until I’m absolutely certain about their number. Three. Just three. That’s not so bad. I wonder if I knew them. I hope not but I don’t think so.
Around me the rest of my Survey crew waits in line to receive our morning ration of water. As usual, their complaints about the liquid echo through my ears. They complain that the water’s lukewarm, that there’s dirt at the bottom of the cup, that it tastes like metal. Everyone but me voices their disapproval. A few years ago someone made the mistake of soliciting my opinion on the matter.
“It’s clear.”
No one seemed to like the answer, but I didn’t have a better one. Where I grew up, I thought water was permanently tinted grey. It wasn’t until I was six and living within the Terror that I learned that water could look otherwise. When I questioned my mother about this newest discovery, her only reply was that this new water wasn’t polluted or filled with chemicals. And then she gave me a look, the one that let me know I shouldn’t ask any more questions about our “other life”.
When it’s my turn, I graciously take the worn earthen cup of water and wait until most of the silt has settled to the bottom. I am thankful for the water on my parched lips. My soft brown eyes close as I savor the sensation and even though I know I shouldn’t, I hum a little under my breath. I try to find happiness in the little things, otherwise there would be no happines. I try to think of the water as more a reward to my existence than a right. My mother’s voice continues to ring in my head, so strong it’s as if she’s never left.
“Nothing in life is given freely. Not the water we drink nor the food we eat. Not the bed we sleep in or the ground we walk upon or the clean air we breathe. It’s only when people forget these things are not free that they become unhappy.”
“But we steal from the ruins,” replies my younger voice, “Isn’t that free?”
“Only fool would think that comes without a price. Are you a fool little Ellie?”
“No,” I say and pause, trying to think of something that comes without a price, “What about freedom?”
My mother laughs. It’s hard and bitter to my adult ears. “Especially not freedom. So often we pay the highest price for that.”
The rhythm of the gunshots plays over and over again in my head. And I realize my cup is empty. Maybe it has been for a while.
Around me the rest of my Survey crew waits in line to receive our morning ration of water. As usual, their complaints about the liquid echo through my ears. They complain that the water’s lukewarm, that there’s dirt at the bottom of the cup, that it tastes like metal. Everyone but me voices their disapproval. A few years ago someone made the mistake of soliciting my opinion on the matter.
“It’s clear.”
No one seemed to like the answer, but I didn’t have a better one. Where I grew up, I thought water was permanently tinted grey. It wasn’t until I was six and living within the Terror that I learned that water could look otherwise. When I questioned my mother about this newest discovery, her only reply was that this new water wasn’t polluted or filled with chemicals. And then she gave me a look, the one that let me know I shouldn’t ask any more questions about our “other life”.
When it’s my turn, I graciously take the worn earthen cup of water and wait until most of the silt has settled to the bottom. I am thankful for the water on my parched lips. My soft brown eyes close as I savor the sensation and even though I know I shouldn’t, I hum a little under my breath. I try to find happiness in the little things, otherwise there would be no happines. I try to think of the water as more a reward to my existence than a right. My mother’s voice continues to ring in my head, so strong it’s as if she’s never left.
“Nothing in life is given freely. Not the water we drink nor the food we eat. Not the bed we sleep in or the ground we walk upon or the clean air we breathe. It’s only when people forget these things are not free that they become unhappy.”
“But we steal from the ruins,” replies my younger voice, “Isn’t that free?”
“Only fool would think that comes without a price. Are you a fool little Ellie?”
“No,” I say and pause, trying to think of something that comes without a price, “What about freedom?”
My mother laughs. It’s hard and bitter to my adult ears. “Especially not freedom. So often we pay the highest price for that.”
The rhythm of the gunshots plays over and over again in my head. And I realize my cup is empty. Maybe it has been for a while.
Metal smashed into wood as Kaitlyn’s fist, housed in a metal gauntlet, cracked into the large wooden desk of Night-Commander Visrette. The young Templar’s face worn an expression of ruthless disapproval. Brown tendrils of hair, freed from the sudden motion, hung limply at her chin while equally brown eyes shown with challenge.
“I don’t understand why it has to be me.” Kaitlyn said, her voice low and clipped, evidence of her irritation. “That’s a duty for a rookie Templar. From everything we’ve gathered, this human mage hiding among the Dalish isn’t a threat! She has already agreed to be escorted to the Circle and there shouldn’t be any immediate danger of her becoming an Abomination. So why does it have to be me?”
Visrette stretched her fingers out before intertwining them again. She had expected Kaitlyn to protest but she hasn’t expected the girl to throw and temper tantrum and come storming into her office. Sitting back, light glimmered off the flaming sword etched into her chest plate. “It’s a delicate matter.” Visrette began indicting the seat across the desk from her and waited while Kaitlyn begrudgingly sat down. “The woman was raised by the Keeper of that camp. Our relationship with the elves has always been - difficult one but they know how to keep their mages in check.” She paused to make sure Kaitlyn was still listening before going on. “But this is different. The woman isn’t an elf- even if she was raised with them. I’m not sure about the girl’s parents, maybe they were apostates or maybe they were normal law abiding citizens, but either way she is human and subject to our laws. I will not risk even a single mage becoming an abomination. Thea Lafae must be brought to the Circle.”
“Yes, I understand that,” Kaitlyn replied her expression unaffected by the explanation, “But what does that have to do to me? Send Kilvador …or Ferrin.”
Visrette shook her head. “While I would certainly expect them to show more tact than you,” she paused as if waiting for another argument, when none came she went on, “You, and you especially will be able to remind them what happens when a mage loses themselves to the Fade.” Her icy blue eyes momentarily left Kaitlyn’s and focused on the red-haired man behind the other woman.
Wendell would have been a handsome man. He had a chiseled chin and a statuesque nose. His body was lithe and he seemed to almost walk on air. His skin was smooth porcelain only occasionally marred by a light sprinkling of freckles. Even through his traditional red woolen robe you could tell he was muscular. Wendell had been a handsome man but that wasn’t the case anymore. For how could anyone be considered handsome with blank staring eyes and a face forever void of expression? In some ways Wendell was the perfect foil to Kaitlyn. He was calm and forever indifferent to the affairs of others while she was known for losing her temper at the slightest provocation and for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Mind you, Kaitlyn hadn’t been like that until the events of last year made the duo inseparable.
“I am happy to serve as a reminder.” Wendell pronounced his voice devoid of all emotion. The irony was not lost on either woman however. Wendell could not truly be happy, not since the brand of the Chantry had been placed on his forehead.
Kaitlyn was tempted to argue with the Night-Commander and her best friend but decided against it. Once Wendell decided on a course of action is was near impossible to persuade him against it. Instead, she merely inclined her chin and stood up before heading back towards the door. Before going out, she paused one last time. “When should we head out?”
“The Dalish are notoriously nomadic.” Visrette said, her eyes now scanning over a worn leather notebook lying open on her desk, “Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“I don’t understand why it has to be me.” Kaitlyn said, her voice low and clipped, evidence of her irritation. “That’s a duty for a rookie Templar. From everything we’ve gathered, this human mage hiding among the Dalish isn’t a threat! She has already agreed to be escorted to the Circle and there shouldn’t be any immediate danger of her becoming an Abomination. So why does it have to be me?”
Visrette stretched her fingers out before intertwining them again. She had expected Kaitlyn to protest but she hasn’t expected the girl to throw and temper tantrum and come storming into her office. Sitting back, light glimmered off the flaming sword etched into her chest plate. “It’s a delicate matter.” Visrette began indicting the seat across the desk from her and waited while Kaitlyn begrudgingly sat down. “The woman was raised by the Keeper of that camp. Our relationship with the elves has always been - difficult one but they know how to keep their mages in check.” She paused to make sure Kaitlyn was still listening before going on. “But this is different. The woman isn’t an elf- even if she was raised with them. I’m not sure about the girl’s parents, maybe they were apostates or maybe they were normal law abiding citizens, but either way she is human and subject to our laws. I will not risk even a single mage becoming an abomination. Thea Lafae must be brought to the Circle.”
“Yes, I understand that,” Kaitlyn replied her expression unaffected by the explanation, “But what does that have to do to me? Send Kilvador …or Ferrin.”
Visrette shook her head. “While I would certainly expect them to show more tact than you,” she paused as if waiting for another argument, when none came she went on, “You, and you especially will be able to remind them what happens when a mage loses themselves to the Fade.” Her icy blue eyes momentarily left Kaitlyn’s and focused on the red-haired man behind the other woman.
Wendell would have been a handsome man. He had a chiseled chin and a statuesque nose. His body was lithe and he seemed to almost walk on air. His skin was smooth porcelain only occasionally marred by a light sprinkling of freckles. Even through his traditional red woolen robe you could tell he was muscular. Wendell had been a handsome man but that wasn’t the case anymore. For how could anyone be considered handsome with blank staring eyes and a face forever void of expression? In some ways Wendell was the perfect foil to Kaitlyn. He was calm and forever indifferent to the affairs of others while she was known for losing her temper at the slightest provocation and for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Mind you, Kaitlyn hadn’t been like that until the events of last year made the duo inseparable.
“I am happy to serve as a reminder.” Wendell pronounced his voice devoid of all emotion. The irony was not lost on either woman however. Wendell could not truly be happy, not since the brand of the Chantry had been placed on his forehead.
Kaitlyn was tempted to argue with the Night-Commander and her best friend but decided against it. Once Wendell decided on a course of action is was near impossible to persuade him against it. Instead, she merely inclined her chin and stood up before heading back towards the door. Before going out, she paused one last time. “When should we head out?”
“The Dalish are notoriously nomadic.” Visrette said, her eyes now scanning over a worn leather notebook lying open on her desk, “Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
Characters:
Kaitlyn McKarth (Main)
Thea Lafae (Main)
Dagna Pyritius (Grey Warden)
Roan (Grey Warden)
Johanas Frey (Grey Warden)
Kaitlyn McKarth (Main)
Thea Lafae (Main)
Dagna Pyritius (Grey Warden)
Roan (Grey Warden)
Johanas Frey (Grey Warden)
Are we going to wait for a few more people to join? Or add them in as they come?
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