sending crystal

[arcaneadvisor]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Morrigan
RECIPIENT: All
WHAT: Hey s'up we found Mythal
WHEN: This month at some point (I don't want to leave out the kidnapped folks)
WHERE: Kirkwall; Morrigan is out by Sundermount if you feel like pestering her in person
NOTES: Report linking all important previous parts

As some of you are aware, I have spent some considerable time and effort in search of my mother, her whereabouts, what she might be doing. There are those of you who have joined me in this.

My mother has been found. And I have discovered the truth of the legends at long last: no demon, no spirit, but Mythal.

[Not easily said, the most uncomfortable Morrigan had ever sounded over the sending crystal and the pause is as much for her to collect herself as it is for the news to sink in.]

All evidence on my search - the report sits with Elven Artifacts have you a wish to read it - pointed to something old. And she has confirmed it. Myself and those with me when we found her at the Altar of Mythal had no reason to doubt her.

Have you questions, I will answer them. Mind your tongues. She took my son to bring me to her.

Comments

[arcaneadvisor]

The Dalish lost their homeland not once but twice.

[Not recognising this rifter, being something of an expert in this she can impart something. Step away from the personal for a moment.]

'Tis not so surprising they perhaps remember wrongly. Or that she has twisted upon herself if she seeks vengeance. I cannot say if one was as twisted as the other. [What was Flemeth? Does anything of Flemeth alone exist? Of Mythal? Is there any separating them in truth? Her turn to pause, painfully, a swallow that lodges tight in her throat.] I swore never to raise him as my mother raised me.

[luxating]

So like, you knew there was another way. You didn't have to be taught to know that.

Maybe your mom had a shitty life, and maybe the Dalish did. But does that change anything? Her being a god, or whatever, does that?

[arcaneadvisor]

If she is a god, after all, how do we know what those are in the end? [It would be a better line if she didn't sound so weary with the asking.] I am certain her argument would be that it changed it, how she was wronged, how Mythal heard her crying out and came to her. The ways some will justify themselves.

[luxating]

[ she hums a moment — ]

What was a god to you before this?

[arcaneadvisor]

A thing of power that was unknowable, a subject of tales built about it told by all those who came after the fact. Tales that are twisted about, parts forgotten or changed to suit. But…'twas beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. Perhaps some part of it still is and that is why the word god exists or whatever word we give to it exists. Creators, for the Dalish, the Stone for the dwarves.

[luxating]

So is the problem the parts of her you know, or the parts that you still don't? Do you want to know her?

[arcaneadvisor]

I know enough, more than I thought to though questions yet linger though she'd leave me with those and I've no way of knowing if she speaks true or false. [As much as she'd lean towards false just to steep in her own bitterness, she can't.] To know is to extend an invitation to more than myself. Have you met many here?

[luxating]

[ mn. her relatives don't usually ask before coming over. but there's a point where you've got to butt out of someone's business. at least if you intend to shove your face in it again later. ]

Mostly people in town,

[ what quarantine. ]

Mostly they want to talk about money, and whether I'm spending any.

[arcaneadvisor]

The Inquisition has a surplus of fools. The sort of fools who are unaware that they are fools and you could point it out though you'd waste your breath and give yourself a headache worse than a bear mauling your skull. These fools would fancy themselves great scholar's or something more. The one to reclaim a relic. The only one to truly understand. Blind to consequence.

That sort.

[Merchants are preferable in that regard, you can't feed a family on prophecy or bygone glories.]