[ His head tilts, squinting at her, like there's a point here utterly missed. The next is said like it ought to be obvious. ] What choice do we have but to remain here?
[ The shard in his hand is lifted up - a literal anchor, told when they'd first stepped into Kirkwall that they'd either stay close, or they'd die. ] You aren't talking to every rifter right now. For that, I'd suggest a higher platform and a louder voice. The most I've taken from this place is bath water and a few apples. If such debt going unpaid to our benevolent overlords offends you so much, by all means, give me the time to find a few buckets and a tree no one's staked claim to yet.
[ It's a point Iorveth makes to be self-sufficient, because it means freedom to him, and freedom is all that matters. Just being lumped in with the rest of the rifters sets his nerves on edge. Iorveth's hunted his own food, slept in trees or gardens, crafted his own weapons and worn his own clothes or those he bought with wages given for working missions under the Inquisition. He walks the streets of Kirkwall and feels his skin crawl. Nothing of this place feels like a favor to him. ] What exactly have I done to these people in the two months I've been here that means I've earned shackles like this? What justifies it for anyone here, rifter or otherwise, or is it only valid outrage when it's native mages?
[ There's no real hostility left in Iorveth's voice for the majority of what's said in this last round, mostly watching and contemplating the worth of hearing the rest of this out. Just kind of done. ] I understand living with a boot to your throat, knowing you're the expendable party any time someone needs a scape-goat, or a drunk wants a punching bag. Enough I'm not willing to do it again, for you or anyone else in this realm or my own.
[ no one will say 'enough' for you, he'd been taught by his world, regardless of how many of them are bleeding in the gutter next to you. ]
In truth, I don't blame mages for this. But there's nothing one does to ask for a crime like this. Surprise in the fact it's not yet happened speaks volumes. [ you'd think basic compassion and empathy most are born with makes that kind of truth self-evident, but then places like thedas and the continent exist, and you wonder how people can be made so soulless. Sighing and rolling a shoulder, he glances back towards the division lead tower he'd been headed towards originally, ready to move on. In the end, this talk really boils down to the one thing - ]
Next time, when you don't give a shit, just say you don't give a shit. Wastes much less air and time. [ spare him the merchant princess smiles and diplomacy. ]
no subject
[ The shard in his hand is lifted up - a literal anchor, told when they'd first stepped into Kirkwall that they'd either stay close, or they'd die. ] You aren't talking to every rifter right now. For that, I'd suggest a higher platform and a louder voice. The most I've taken from this place is bath water and a few apples. If such debt going unpaid to our benevolent overlords offends you so much, by all means, give me the time to find a few buckets and a tree no one's staked claim to yet.
[ It's a point Iorveth makes to be self-sufficient, because it means freedom to him, and freedom is all that matters. Just being lumped in with the rest of the rifters sets his nerves on edge. Iorveth's hunted his own food, slept in trees or gardens, crafted his own weapons and worn his own clothes or those he bought with wages given for working missions under the Inquisition. He walks the streets of Kirkwall and feels his skin crawl. Nothing of this place feels like a favor to him. ] What exactly have I done to these people in the two months I've been here that means I've earned shackles like this? What justifies it for anyone here, rifter or otherwise, or is it only valid outrage when it's native mages?
[ There's no real hostility left in Iorveth's voice for the majority of what's said in this last round, mostly watching and contemplating the worth of hearing the rest of this out. Just kind of done. ] I understand living with a boot to your throat, knowing you're the expendable party any time someone needs a scape-goat, or a drunk wants a punching bag. Enough I'm not willing to do it again, for you or anyone else in this realm or my own.
[ no one will say 'enough' for you, he'd been taught by his world, regardless of how many of them are bleeding in the gutter next to you. ]
In truth, I don't blame mages for this. But there's nothing one does to ask for a crime like this. Surprise in the fact it's not yet happened speaks volumes. [ you'd think basic compassion and empathy most are born with makes that kind of truth self-evident, but then places like thedas and the continent exist, and you wonder how people can be made so soulless. Sighing and rolling a shoulder, he glances back towards the division lead tower he'd been headed towards originally, ready to move on. In the end, this talk really boils down to the one thing - ]
Next time, when you don't give a shit, just say you don't give a shit. Wastes much less air and time. [ spare him the merchant princess smiles and diplomacy. ]