therookery | open; Speaking words of grace while spellwork delights

Entry tags:

open; Speaking words of grace while spellwork delights

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Morrigan
RECIPIENT: Open
WHAT: Summary of content
WHEN: Early Wintermarch
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: A post will be linked on Morrigan's journal for research things and she has an ic/ooc contact post if further plotting is wanted, currently it'll be mostly what she would know pre-Temple of Mythal

[A message to the board was tempting but some things are best done with a more personal touch and short of visiting each and every possibility in person - and she has far more to do with her time whilst being unwilling to entrust such a thing to a messenger - and so the sending crystal it is. A new year and, once the weather clears, a new delivery for Skyhold though that can be addressed much later.]

Since the arrival of those who came through the rifts, tis more certain now than ever that much more knowledge is needed. To that end, I seek those of like minds to aid in research I have brought with me to Skyhold. Much of it is on magic so I would seek mages over any others, though so long as certain parties can keep civil tongues in their heads, I will not turn away whatever aid can be rendered. [Templars aren't strictly forbidden in the rare spirit of cooperation but well she knows Templars and ancient forbidden things.] The research I seek to carry out has a focus on elven magic and lore, as well as my own knowledge being that which is untouched by Chantry teachings. As such, my own supplies have been brought from Orlais and my former post, though if you wish to avail yourself of them, I ask that you do not remove them, they were...difficult to acquire. Some will have to wait until better weather allows safer travel up the mountain with more delicate items. Whatever tale, whatever scrap of knowledge you might hold no matter how small or foolish it may seem, it will always be valuable and I have spent a long time indeed delving into such matters.

If you wish to discuss this in person rather than a crystal, you will find me in the gardens of Skyhold, you are seeking Morrigan, if introductions are still to be made.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Then I wonder what puzzle you hope to solve.

Very well, then. We can speak here, or in person. Whichever suits you best, madame.

Is it not enough to wish the world to not lose the last wonders it has? Even if there are few to miss them, I would not allow such things to be lost for good if I can prevent it.

We are speaking now, I find the sending crystal agreeable enough unless you wish to have the decrepit Mothers in the garden gawk at you.

[He holds his tongue. Often, he feels that the Dalish are too wrapped up in the past enough as it is, but Morrigan isn't Dalish, obviously. Her curiosity and interest won't necessarily be harmful, as far as he can conclude.] I suppose that's reason enough.

Maybe my face will brighten their day. [It's spoken wryly, but he doesn't particularly care either way.] So what shall I share? Old songs? Stories? Games, perhaps? Fen'Harel's teeth was a favorite among the hunters.

I cannot say there are many outside the Dalish who can claim to know of Dalish games, I would hear of this Fen’Harel’s teeth first, if you will oblige me.

[There are of course many lurid tales of Dalish hunts, of humans in particular, many stretching back to simply demonise an enemy but some clans can be just as wild and vicious as the Avvar.]

Of course, madame.

[He sighs a little.] First, I don't know how much you know about Fen'Harel, but I'll summarize. The common belief on Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, was a traitor to the elven pantheon and sealed them away so they could never interact with the People.

[Twisted Fate pauses, then continues.] So, Fen'Harel's teeth; common game that the hunters in my clan liked when they found prisoners. They'd goad the prisoners into begging to be let go, and the hunters would agree to give them a chance to run. You take the man's clothing off, and tie his hands together. He's given tight leggings that he can't remove with nails driven into the insides, hence the teeth. The prisoners are allowed a head start run, but the hunters would always catch them.

There are, of course, less brutal games. But there you have it.

[What does one say to a story like that? Silence after is to be expected and she takes a quiet breath, glad that Kieran is not lingering. She would not have her son hearing such things.]

I have heard the stories of the Dread Wolf, much as I have seen the statues. And I would never hear a word of this story near my son. [It's not harsh enough to be a warning, just a gentle reminder. Boys are boys but that...that is too grisly for her liking.]

A part of me finds such a tale difficult to believe though clans are said to vary much depending on where they hail from but such talk sounds not unlike the lurid stories some humans have painted of the Dalish, the sacrificing babies to demons sort of stories. It seems some of them may yet be true. What sort of prisoner would be subjected to this sort of punishment?

Nor would I ever share it with him. We both can agree to that.

It doesn't matter. [He sighs, then answers with:] I realize not many clans follow this kind of... behavior. You certainly won't with Clan Ashara, for example. But as you know, not all clans are willing to help and several will look for reasons to punish humans. The most common prisoners were slave traders, but sometimes they were hunters who ventured too deep in the woods and found the river. Other times, more rarely, were people simply lost.

Slavers deserve what they get, I have met their ilk and the world shall shed no tears for them. [Denerim's alienage certainly did not.] Some of what I have learned paints the elven gods, if that is what they were, as somewhat more...vicious than they seem to be remembered by clans themselves. Andruil in particular has bloody tales, something I would understand for a lady of a hunt, but still they seemed more than that. Though ancient elven can be annoyingly vague when it comes wading through what they said and what they actually meant. [Plus there's the issue of most of the written language having been lost and that helps absolutely no one.]

Were your clan far to the north then?

I don't disagree, but I probably would have been more agreeable to the game if they cared at all about what happened to the slaves. Killing the slavers felt like an excuse, even if I didn't particularly care for them, for obvious reasons.

So you know of her. My clan follow her tales closely, even named themselves after her. Clan Frandruil; followers of the hunt. [It's the first time he's openly named his clan, but Morrigan's interest does not make him uncomfortable. He feels more uncertain when he speaks to fellow Dalish, frankly.]

Yes. They were. Primarily, they followed the banks of the Serpentine River.

At a certain point, any punishment will say far more about the one dirtying their hands than the one on the receiving end.

I have studied as much as I could on the Creators though I am sure that while there is something shared at the core, much will change based on where a clan is, where it has gone, what it has encountered, particular with the rather more hungry of them. [Gods or elves, maybe both. At least her interest is always honest and she's far more likely to pass judgement on something other than the individual.] Did your clan stick to the hunt or were these games close to some tales painting her as a goddess of sacrifice too?

I am not familiar I am afraid, Orlais and Ferelden I know better, I have had little reason to travel too far. [The Crossroads were more important than current maps.]

Completely true.

You'll hear many interpretations, but I suppose I could always tell you the tales as I was told them. My former Keeper shared much. [He pauses for a moment.] The hunt was the focus. They didn't look to her in regard to sacrifice, but an inspiration. The hunt was everything.

Little to see in that area. I could point it out on a map if you really wanted, though.

I would like to hear such tales, and to keep a note of them for the future. [Or to even have a note of them. Every story changes in the telling, much like the ones of Flemeth, and so she’s very aware of trying to preserve all the details before you get down to the heart of the matter.] I have never come across a clan with such a singular belief to follow, there always seemed to be much more of a balance. The Inquisition stands much to gain having you here, truly talented hunters can be hard to find and to keep on your side when we must venture into the wilds time and again.

If you would be so kind. Anything to narrow down my search will be helpful, as well as allowing me to see where clans represented by the Inquisition have been, I can see if it crosses any sites of interest I have learned of and studied.

If you wish it, then I will tell them, as they were told to me. [He's not thrilled, but he likes Morrigan well enough and he did agree to this.] How many clans have you really come across? [He doesn't ask with any irritation.] Some are balanced, and involve themselves when other elves from the cities are desperately looking for a place to stay. Then there are some like mine, who care only for their own, and praise the hunt.

Heh, you're the first to ever say something like that to me. But I don't think I could really convince them to help us.

For you, I shall. I remember what it looks like, the smell of the river -- these things never left me.

Tis less how many that causes me to have questions but more when and where I found them: Ferelden, when the Blight raged and the years following. Even when the Blight did not spread, a land still needs to recover from it, anyone in the Free Marches experiencing the influx of refugees can attest to that. But I had a son to raise and so what was available to me was what I could uncover alone, without meeting them. [The Crossroads taught her much but how does one explain such a thing without showing it? Even the showing is difficult when she has no desire to allow people to step through as they please when they do not know what Corypheus plans.] A land shapes her people, and there may be something I have overlooked that other have seen, or vice versa.

You can never truly say never, who knows what will happen now, even the certainties such as the Dalish always wandering and keeping to their clans are no longer so clear.

I don't judge on your actions; you had a child to worry about, and you still do. Research on the People doesn't come easily, especially when not all of them are terribly friendly. Some clans would welcome your curiosity and my decisions, others may turn you away or worse -- and call me harellan for who I am today.

That's fair, I suppose. But I'll remain dubious until clans like Clan Frandruil make their decision to actually do something instead of worrying about themselves.

And which of the meanings is the worse insult in this case?

[Sometimes, but not always, they can be close enough but she saw the way traitor was hurled about at the Landsmeet, and how it can be used like a knife in Orlais.]

I suppose Clan Ashara must be very much the minority. Not but one or two rather they are here in force, and making themselves very much involved in all the goings on.

I've heard it from a handful of clans already. Many clans have their different takes on how to treat someone like me. I suppose several don't know, and the easiest is to treat me like a human outsider. [If it has hurt him, he declines to say.]

It's why Clan Ashara has surprised me as much as it has. To send so many of their own here, and become so involved struck me as unusual. More clans should follow their example, but I doubt that'll happen anytime soon.

I suppose there will be many who hear and wait to see what benefits may come of it. But the story always went that it was being around the humans that caused your people to lose their long lifespans. [Dubious at best but it’s a story still told and widely believed, unless it was some sickness humans carried with them that elves proved particularly vulnerable to in the ancient days.]

Sounds like another excuse to hate humans, frankly. A lot of tales like that sound influenced by hatred and frustration; elves may have been wronged, but I'm inclined to say many tales are often exaggerated, and interpretations are hard to be correct after centuries of telling them.

But we might be getting off track. I owe you stories, don't I?

Indeed, tell me your tales and then I shall endeavour to find out how much matches the rest, though a great deal must change in the telling - your people still prefer oral tradition to writing many of them down, do they not?

[An advantage in some ways but a giant disadvantage in many others.]

[He sighs.] That they do. And every bit that my Keeper needed to tell me, she certainly did her best to ensure I remembered. Though considering my position at the time, hardly surprising.

Well, what shall I start with? The Elven pantheon? The infamous betrayal from Fen'Harel?

It would have been your duty to know all the most important stories and the details that should be passed on. Whichever one you care for most, it always makes the telling better, I have found.

For a time, I was to be my clan's First, so. Yes, you are correct.

I can work with that. Well, then. Let me talk to you about Falon'Din, Friend of the Dead. God of Death and Fortune.

In ancient times, it is said that the People were ageless and eternal, and instead of dying would enter uthenera, known as the long sleep. They would walk the shifting paths beyond the Veil with Falon'Din and his other half, Dirthamen. Those elders would learn the secrets of dreams, and some returned to the People with newfound knowledge. Dirthamen and Falon'Din are the eldest children of Elgar-nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector. These two since their birth were insperable, even said to be twin souls. Closer to each other than anything romantic or platonic, bonded even deeper than blood. Falon'Din was often referred to as Dirthamen’s shadow, and Dirthmen as Falon'Din's reflection. Two sides of the same coin.

But nothing is perfect. They first separated when Falon'Din found an old, dying deer int he forest. He took her into his arms and carried her to rest in the Veil, somewhere Dirthamen could not follow him. From there, he swore to guide all creatures beyond the Veil when they died. Since the People quickened, this took into deep meaning, and we're meant to be taken by him to the Veil when our time has come.

Falon'Din was a very vain God, however. He desired worshippers, and that became so great that he started wars to accumulate more, destroying so many that would not succumb to him. It was Mythal who rallied the other gods to confront him, and they did so in his temple. Falon'Din surrendered then, bending to Mythal and her wisdom.

It's said that Fen'Harel caused the gods to be shut away from us, betraying them. Because of this, Falon'Din could no longer guide those who passed. Those who pass are laid to rest with an oaken staff, to keep them from straying on their path and a cedar branch, to scatter the ravens named Fear and Deceit who once served Dirthamen. But they are without masters now, separated from Dirthamen, as we are all.

[Forgive the scrape of quill on parchment but this is what she wants, something to be written down, straight from the source as such few things are, at least without being glimpsed through the lens of the Chantry as is customary.]

The deer and the ravens are known well, but the darker parts less so, or at least not admitted to readily. I must check against what else I have known, but I thank you, for sharing this with me, I can imagine there are very few who would tell such tales so freely. Next time perhaps we might do this in person?

[After all, she has to write up a longer version of this while it's still fresh in her head lest she forget a single detail.]

I'm sure few Dalish would be willing. But I would be glad to share with you in person when you've the time, Morrigan.

Let me know if you need anything else.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

open; Speaking words of grace while spellwork delights

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