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Mar. 16th, 2017 10:40 pm
[Entry 001?] -- Sevii Islands
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champiowned[The beast approached -- eyes the size of hands glittering menacingly at Hawke and her companions. Varric was through, but Stroud and the Inquisitor remained. The former, perhaps the last sane mind in the Wardens, would need to bring stability to the organization. The latter was the last hope that Thedas had.]
[And Hawke?]
[Hawke was a remnant of a bygone era. She'd failed a city, failed the people she cared for by letting it fall to ruin. The Templars had cast her from her home for aiding the mages, and the mages thought her solely responsible for what happened in Kirkwall. She had, after all, had a hand in its destruction. The city had taken everything from her: her mother, her people, her cause and eventually pushed her to drive a blade into the back of her lover.]
[It had been four years since she'd heard Anders say her name. Four years since she]
[Her best friend would miss her, of that she was sure. Relayed as much to the Inquisitor as he nodded his assent and began to charge toward the fade rift.]
[Drawing her staff, Hawke turned to the beast. Lightning crackled across her fingertips, flames built at the tip of the staff that had once been her father's.]
Sorry, Anders. [She wanted to believe that somewhere out there, he was listening. Heard her grief and would perhaps accept her with open arms when she slipped into whatever afterlife awaited her.]
[She charged forward, toward the clicking mandibles and murderous eyes of death itself. The rift nearby flashed twice, Stroud and Lavellan plunging through its shimmering surface. A jointed leg smashed down, knocking Hawke to the ground hard enough to hit her head. Her vision swam, barely processing another leg racing toward her chest with blazing speeds.]
[And then... Marian Hawke woke up.]
( [[Prompts below...]] )
[And Hawke?]
[Hawke was a remnant of a bygone era. She'd failed a city, failed the people she cared for by letting it fall to ruin. The Templars had cast her from her home for aiding the mages, and the mages thought her solely responsible for what happened in Kirkwall. She had, after all, had a hand in its destruction. The city had taken everything from her: her mother, her people, her cause and eventually pushed her to drive a blade into the back of her lover.]
[It had been four years since she'd heard Anders say her name. Four years since she]
[Her best friend would miss her, of that she was sure. Relayed as much to the Inquisitor as he nodded his assent and began to charge toward the fade rift.]
[Drawing her staff, Hawke turned to the beast. Lightning crackled across her fingertips, flames built at the tip of the staff that had once been her father's.]
Sorry, Anders. [She wanted to believe that somewhere out there, he was listening. Heard her grief and would perhaps accept her with open arms when she slipped into whatever afterlife awaited her.]
[She charged forward, toward the clicking mandibles and murderous eyes of death itself. The rift nearby flashed twice, Stroud and Lavellan plunging through its shimmering surface. A jointed leg smashed down, knocking Hawke to the ground hard enough to hit her head. Her vision swam, barely processing another leg racing toward her chest with blazing speeds.]
[And then... Marian Hawke woke up.]
( [[Prompts below...]] )
