Casting down bad memories

[arlathvhen]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Beleth Ashara
RECIPIENT: Everyone who's part of the first group to Kirkwall
WHAT: Discussing what's to be done about the statues
WHEN: Sometime between Cloudreach 14th and 20th
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: This isn't an Official Poll that's going to decide things but it's a good way for people to throw out suggestions for voting on and discuss ideas

Good day, to every member of the Inquisition currently helping take care of the Gallows. We've been making some amazing progress, and I'm sure that our contributions will give this place the overhaul that it desperately needs. With time, the Gallows will become a symbol of hope, rather than despair.

If I may, I'd like to take time to discuss ideas for one of those symbols. Specifically, those horrid statues that are strewn about. Now that they will...probably no longer attempt to kill us.

I've been informed that there are artisans willing to melt down the statues and create new ones to be put in their place. Additionally, our group has been given permission to choose what kind of statues would be put up there. Suffice to say, whatever we go with will make a statement about our goals here. The Inquisition is trusting us to make sure that statement is positive.

So, I would like to discuss possibilities with everyone, and see if we can get some good ideas going.

To start the ball rolling, if it's alright, I'd like to share my own proposal. Of course, this is only a suggestion, and I welcome any other voices.

I propose that we have the statues remade to represent the diverse groups within the Inquisition. Have a statue of a dwarf, another of a Dalish, another of a mage, etc, etc. It would send a message of cooperation and coexistence, and hopefully promote such in our new home.

The floor is open for further suggestions.

Comments

[apologist]

[ Gently bewildered— ] Au contraire, monsieur, I have found that many people have already forgotten this part of history. There are few places in Thedas where it is so well preserved.

[apologist]

Of course.

—and I might also suggest considering selling them. Melting them for the benefit of the locals seems to be a popular idea, but you may find that the University and several collectors of ancient art and artifacts would pay much more for an example of work from this era than the bronze would be worth to anyone.

[judgemewhole]

[Oh ho ho.]

Are you telling me that someone who is such good friends with a Chantry Brother doesn't know that the 'tentacles' are actually the rays of the Maker's sun? For shame, serah.

[inagutterson]

You sound like an Orlesian, swap Dalish for rabbit and the illusion is complete. [Seriously, hills he's going to die on: siding with the alienage when it comes down to everything. Right now he is chafed raw by a lot of things, so best just to let it come out as it will.]

If I would like? Come have dinner with my family then if you want to poll some Kirkwall population - no, Jim, I'll explain that one later there's a lot going on yeah? [that's some Kirkwall population there, some of Yngvi's dwarves hanging out from helping clear up what scrubs can't because no one cares about dwarves unless lyrium is involved.] He's not the real Viscount anyway, last one got his head lopped off by the Arishok, seneschal just decided that seat looked comfy, never liked that prick.

The fuck is it with people and fucking statues or planting fucking trees? Nothing is permanent, everything ends and moves on. Melt it down into blocks and bloody sell it. It's the only useful thing you'll do with it if you want a solid dwarven opinion.

[He's not bitter he says bitterly with a bitter expression.]

[inagutterson]

I'm not thanking someone that says 'Dalish' instead of elves. [Look. He'll die on this hill. And he'll take out your kneecaps to do it.] Do they have the phrase about assuming in doglord country? Oh wait we're all meant to be funny.

[Guess who isn't having a stellar-fucking-time being roped into this Kirkwall life again??? I'll take 'dwarf being strangled in all the tangled webs of his family for five hundred Alex'.]

[degenere]

Monsieur. I have spent a great deal of time staring at the rays of the Maker's sun. You might try it sometime. It is the large orb of light that shines above us, in the sky. And I assure you: the rays of the sun look nothing like those squiggles. The squiggles of the sigil are clearly meant to be tentacles.

I believe there is more to this design, and to claim only that the artist--whoever he might be--intended only to represent the sun's rays is too simplistic.

[degenere]

I pray you: do not ask her of her impious dreams, madame. There might be tender souls listening. Children. You cannot imagine what it is that you ask.

It is in fact for her dreams that the mademoiselle must seek regular absolution. It is the hope of all the faithful in Orlais that she finds purity on her pilgrimage.

[limier]

[ why are there two of them

what scholarly crimes is she atoning for

is this because she dog-eared the library books ]

Monsieur, do not all journeys of redemption begin with confession?

[degenere]

[this is for sure some penance]

They do, yes. And she did confess, publicly, in great detail, as is tradition. Stood high upon a platform in the square, for all to hear. The chaos, madame. I fear the village may never recover.

[aventuriere]

I can still hear the weeping... Or perhaps that is my own, as my very soul cries out in anguish at the mere recollection of the sin once harbored in my breast. And yet at the same time there is an ecstasy in confession the unshriven cannot imagine. So perhaps the weeping is the children's, after all.

[limier]

Tragic. Am I to understand that silence shall be restorative of your respective virtues? As it may dry the tears of Kirkwall's young multitudes.

[judgemewhole]

If you're really going to blame an artist from hundreds of years ago for his inability to properly capture the sun for you, please, do offer to make us a better sigil.

From the peanut gallery.

[tallasaking]

[There's no voiced opinion.

No angry yell raised in protest.

Not even a shy whisper.

Just perhaps the sound of ... crunching.

Like someone might be snacking upon candied nuts and listening to this whole conversation with some sort of devilish glee.]

[degenere]

To the contrary! The mademoiselle was given the charge of virtuous speaking for her penance. She must speak, and speak, and speak. Never a moment of silence, for in the silence, there is the sin of thoughts. The more silence is filled with the virtuous speech, the less opportunity there is for the tears of the children--and the less opportunity for sin.

For the sinful breast, you see, is always tempted to sin once more. And the mademoiselle has breasts that are most sinful. Believe me.

[degenere]

Oh, no, my friend. I have not the skill for such designs. My gift is in the design of the building. Structures, these are an art of themselves. Now, if the Inquisition would like a building as their sigil: I am their man.

Perhaps we simply elect the Maker's true sun as our symbol. And when anyone asks, 'what is the sigil of the Inquisition?' we simply point up, at the sun. And when they look, they are blinded, and we are able to overcome them easily.

[arlathvhen]

I wonder what kind of disaster could cripple a thriving, rich culture, and force it to live in the ruins of its former splendor.

[ Humans. Beleth would bet money it was humans. ]

I hope we never face such a thing. Though I suppose that's what the Inquisition is attempting to stop.

[arlathvhen]

...Thank you.

[ Her tone is polite, though a little puzzled. She's being complimented, she knows, but there's something odd in the way that it's stated.

But it's still a nice idea, so Beleth shrugs it off. ]

[arlathvhen]

We'd die, because we'd all be too busy laughing at them to run.

[arlathvhen]

[ Beleth makes a noncommittal, vague noise of acknowledgement. ]

If we decide not to recast them, along with voting for what we'll replace it with, we can vote on what to do with the material.

[arlathvhen]

Everyone...? Well. Everyone from the Inquisition that got stationed in Kirkwall. I just wanted to get the ball rolling to think about ideas, and get choices to vote on.

[ It dawns on her, quite suddenly--is she going to have to handle the voting, too? Creators give her strength. Maybe she can outsource it. Maybe there's a polling guild in Kirkwall. ]

[arlathvhen]

[ There's a sharp intake of breath when he utters that word. Rabbit. It doesn't matter if he was using it to demonstrate Orlesian hatred--he isn't elven, he hasn't the right. There's a cold contempt curling in her stomach, but she handles it. She's handled worse.

Indeed, her voice is, if anything, more politely pleasant. You can practically hear the Stepford smile. ]

Your comments have been noted, and I've added the option of asking for the opinions of the Kirkwall residents as a possibility to be voted upon. Thank you for providing your opinion on this matter.

[arlathvhen]

Actually, I'm not sure--Ah. [ The little arrow in her brain moves from 'No clue' to 'Gets it'. ] Maybe Inquisition-themed statues won't be appreciated by the next inhabitants. I guess that whole idea was more idealistic than realistic.

[ Though a small part of it was just that she wanted to have a Dalish statue. ]

[arlathvhen]

Yes, actually. I was thinking of Bill the Pony.

[ Only he is worthy of being immortalized. ]

[arlathvhen]

We'll have to see what gets done with the statues, though I'm sure that melting them down will happen, no matter what. I'll give you their information.

[arlathvhen]

[ Tall as a jerk. ]