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OPEN
WHO: Mac Journey and you there!
WHAT: Exploration of Skyhold, self-educating and existential dilemmas.
WHEN: The duration of Kingsway.
WHERE: Everywhere in Skyhold he can get access too, really.
NOTES: No warnings as of yet. Several prompts inside but feel free to bump into him anywhere! He's bound to stick his nose where it doesn't belong at some point.
WHAT: Exploration of Skyhold, self-educating and existential dilemmas.
WHEN: The duration of Kingsway.
WHERE: Everywhere in Skyhold he can get access too, really.
NOTES: No warnings as of yet. Several prompts inside but feel free to bump into him anywhere! He's bound to stick his nose where it doesn't belong at some point.
Mac made it to Skyhold safely, accompanied by the lovely Miss Ellana. He learned most of the basics along the way, accepted his new palm and head accessories and decided sometime during the journey that he wanted to be part of the Inquisition, formally or otherwise. Anywhere people were in need, Mac was supposed to be there, and as far as Ellana said, the Inquisition was the choice to make. Fine by him.
Besides, they have a castle fortress and he's not about to pass up that opportunity.
Throughout the days following, Mac spends most of his time trying to learn about the world he's landed in and the people inhabiting it, both through literature and personal experience. As with all social efforts it's a bit touch and go; it's not made any easier for him being newly minted as a Qunari - or Rifter equivalent - and he certainly stands out with gold-plated ram horns, lime-colored eyes and long, undercut hair he painstakingly dyes a rich purple color.
Library
While terribly excited about the innumerable prospects available to him upon arriving at Skyhold, Mac is infinitely more intent upon the library, mentioned to him in brief. If is meant to be in the strange new world he has to do what any self-respecting Warlock would do: educate himself.
Back home the Guardian had scoured every library available to him and even gone on countless missions for the colleges to recover lost knowledge from the Ishtar Academy. He has a voracious appetite for knowledge (though a good many that knew him would say he wasted that motivation on his obsession with fiction and fantasy) and speed-reading is a talent he happily indulges. Thedas, as it turns out, is everything he had ever dreamed of and if he's going to inhabit the land for any length of time, being poorly educated is simply unacceptable.
Though certainly availing himself of other amenities available in the hold, Mac is most often found sitting on the floor surrounded by books, flipping through page after page, pale eyes scanning written words so quickly it's a wonder he can retain anything at all. His curiosity isn't limited to the written word, however, and anyone passing within range of him gets stared at without a hint of apology. He isn't trying to be rude, of course, but he's quite in love with everything and everyone he sees at present; that includes all those from the flashiest of Orlesian courtiers to the blandest of wool-wearing scullery maids.
Tavern and Kitchens
As it turns out, getting spit out of a green sky means you don't always come out the other side quite the same. Never actually having to eat or sleep back home was more of a dull fact than a boon and the novelty of needing to do both is unlikely to wear off anytime soon for Mac. As such he's always eagerly poking his head around corners and following the smells of local vittles.
There is nothing he's unwilling to try, however vile it might first appear, and his new appetite happens to be curiously large; he accounts it to his magic likely needing to be supported more by his metabolism and personal health now than the physics of his former home.
He's also never been able to enjoy the effects of alcohol and he's easily seen spending more time at the tavern during evening repast observing the effects on others while obviously longing to join in but being too unsure to try.
Healers
Injuries are a new thing for Mac, and they aren't at all welcome. While adapting to sleeping and eating regularly has been immensely enjoyable, having to actually heal from wounds is forcing him to question his usually more reckless approach to things.
Paper cuts, scrapes and bumps have been accepted as badges of newfound potential mortality, odd but harmless. The first time he endured a solid bruising left him bewildered but largely unmoved. The day he decided to hop down the battlement steps instead of walking the distance resulted in a tweaked ankle and limping. That was far more alarming. As a result Mac has endeavored to be more careful with his actions and person, but years of blindly barreling onward are difficult to change.
Due to his inevitable learning curve, Mac shows up at the healers regularly enough, pouting and holding new bruises and cuts as he seeks aid for ailments he's never had to deal with. It's about the most sullen he gets, having to put his fun on hold to treat a cut or burn. On the upside, he's certainly garnering a lot more respect for medicinal arts.
Main Bridge
When the library gets a bit crowded - as it sometimes does with all the mages, intellectuals and other curious Rifters - Mac likes to sneak a book off to the bridge and tuck himself against the stones jutting from the parapets, feet dangling over the side. Often, however, when he goes here he spends more time looking out across the frozen valley than actually reading, lost in thought or lost in the view.
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"My magic changed a little, too, but I'm nearly as patient of science-minded as a lot of my peers back home, so I don't spend all of my time picking apart the details. I just sort of accept it, adapt and move on. It'd be different if I couldn't use any magic at all, but so far as I can see everything works alright. Takes a lot more out of me, for sure. I'm just glad I found out I get hurt more like a normal person now, before doing something really crazy and getting myself incinerated."
"It happens," he adds after a moment, shrugging dismissively. Nothing he can do about it, so why fret? "What about you? What's your story, beside being awesome?"
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"Me? Oh--that's kind of you to say, though I'm really not that special. I'm a former Circle mage who joined the Grey Wardens, an order dedicated to fighting darkspawn. Darkspawn are tainted humanoid beings who can spread said taint to people, to the land itself. They dig constantly, seeking archdemons to lead them in an attempt to conquer the world above. These instances are called Blights and Thedas has suffered five, so far. The last one was scarcely ten years ago, though I cannot claim any glory as I was but a child then. I am fairly new to the Wardens, having only joined them within that past two years."
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"You're a mage, which is super cool, and you're an elf, which is probably the most awesome thing ever. You're special like, a lot. So much. You're a magical elf. You're magical. How come so many people around here downplay how awesome they are?" he asks, letting her face go and throwing his hands up in a gesture of confusion.
"Especially elves! Elves. Elves. Like, how is no one else excited by this? This world is upside down if elves aren't the coolest thing ever. What the crap, seriously," the Guardian huffs, squinting at mention of Darkspawn and turning back to the shelves. That's right, he's supposed to be educating himself, and Wardens were mentioned with Darkspawn earlier in another book. Where is it, where is it. Ah, there.
"Yeah, we've got these Darkspawn things where I'm from, too. Sort of. I mean, we have a fairly equivalent force we fight that we call Hive instead of Darkspawn. A rose by any other name, something something. The more I learn about this place the more I realize we've got a lot of the same bad stuff but none of the neat things. What's up with that?"
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"Elves are not not highly-regarded, not in Thedas' modern age. It's said that they once ruled an empire that spanned the length of the continent, but that was long ago. It fell, and elves were then enslaved by the Tevinter Imperium. Those still within its borders are often slaves still, but even outside it, elves are markedly second-class citizens, often servants. Only those in the Circle or among the Grey Wardens have a chance at equal treatment.
...I regret to say that qunari are scarcely treated much better. Their physique intimidates humans from casual beatings and the like, but they are often treated as dumb muscle, useful in a fight but otherwise something to be kept at the fringes. And that's not counting those who follow the Qun; all fear another invasion and the chaos it could bring."Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Inessa just wants him to be prepared for any reactions he might get outside Skyhold.
"As for the odd pattern of similarities, I can't say why the darker aspects seem universal. Perhaps that played a part in why you were able to be brought over?"
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"Maybe. Maybe this is where it all starts? Or just where the fighting needs to be done, I don't know. I'm not big on questioning my role in things as much as embracing it. Better to own what you can't change, I figure," he laughs, albeit with a marked note of helplessness a good ear might pick up. While Mac's bravado is sincere, it doesn't mean being a tool for Fate and Destiny doesn't get a bit tiresome.
"So, shorthand, what you're telling me is that I might be the only person that thinks elves are the coolest thing ever, and I might also have been - in a cruel joke of fate - turned into a member of a race that most people are afraid of, at best? Cool, cool. That's awesome," he nods a few times, sniffing softly before cocking a glance at Inessa and smiling as he amends, "Nope, this sucks," before laughing genuinely and holding both hands up in a broad gesture of surrender.
"What are you gonna do, right? Sally forth, carry on, whatever. You do the right thing and people will either see you for what you are or stay prejudiced for what you could be. It'll get sorted out in the end."
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Her expression is apologetic, also unable to disagree that it 'sucks'. The only way it could be worse for him in Thedas would be as an elf. A human would be ideal, a dwarf overlooked. But not elves or qunari. "I'm sorry. I wish that it were otherwise, believe me. And among the Inquisition itself, you'll find that there is less of Thedas' bigotry than elsewhere. We know that defeating Corypheus is all that matters, and whatever skills are required, that is what deserves focus, not race or magic." Ideally-speaking, at least. Inessa can't say that prejudice has entirely vanished from everyone.
Mac's attitude earns him a small smile, appreciating that mindset. "You're rather resilient; that's good, it'll serve you well here. There's no denying that life in Thedas can be harsh, but I sincerely believe our efforts have a chance to lessening that. There will be bigotry, but there will also be people who see past what you are and appreciate what you do for them. Regardless, it's the work that matters most of all."
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"Don't apologize for the way the world is, just don't be part of the problem. That's the rule. You should only do two things in likf: not add to the bad in the world, and dedicate yourself to putting more good into it. The rest is just details. Not that breaking noses is necessarily a good thing, but it definitely feels better than doing nothing," the Guardian adds with a shameless grin.
"Kinda weird that your big bad of the day isn't far off from the name of my own back home," he mumbles, glancing off to the side and shrugging. Maybe he really is in a coma and his mind is just making things up as it goes? Not that Crota and Corypheus are identical or anything, but the parallels keep stacking up. At least it makes adapting easier.
"Can you recommend any books on this stuff? Mages, Circles, the Qun. All of that. I've had people explain things left and right, but I usually retain things better in writing. Just...sponge it all up and commit it to memory. Seems like I've got a lot of catching up to do. Gonna end up living in the library. Not that it's worse than where I've been sleeping." Which is mostly anywhere he can sprawl out, too uncomfortable to ask about living arrangements for foreigners that fall out of skies.
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About to ask questions regarding his 'big bad', Inessa is temporarily distracted by the question. "Oh--yes, absolutely. And I'm the same way when it comes to processing information, so I quite understand. Having it in writing to peruse at your leisure aids quite a bit. Let's see, I would recommend anything by Brother Genitivi. He's a scholar who has written about many aspects of life in Thedas. You should read the Chant of Light as well. Not that I expect you to convert, but for context. The Chantry will come up quite often in conversation...."
Ignoring her remaining books that she can shelve later, Inessa places them aside to begin plucking out others for Mac to read. "Here are some tomes about the Circle of Magi and the Templars, though the recent Mage-Templar War is rather recent. I doubt you'll find anything extensive in the stacks, but you have plenty of mages and Templars who have lived through it in these walls. My duties were elsewhere, so I cannot give details about the war itself, though I know some of what lead up to it. As for the Qun, there is considerably less information in writing. However, we do have a Qunari in the Inquisition. His name is the Iron Bull. I only know of him, but if he's willing to share what he knows, that is likely to be far more accurate than anything written about them here."
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"Brother Genitivi? Got it. I promise I'll read everything by him that you guys have." And he means it. He reads quick enough to plow through the entire Inquisition library in a matter of weeks, provided he does nothing else. Alas, Mac is terribly good at getting himself into mischief and falling prey to distractions. Might take him a couple months.
"Religion is almost completely gone in my time. There's still some pockets, but there were so many wars caused by it that most people avoid organizing anymore. Conversion is kind of...not very likely. But it's good to educated yourself, so I'll read up on all of that, too. If nothing else, so I can be respectful towards other people and their beliefs. I'm pretty disrespectful about everything, universally, on accident, so it can only help!" Silver lining.
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Glad to see someone so eager to learn, Inessa piles on a few more books she thinks he might consider interesting, one about dragons and their 'return' to Thedas, and another about the Fifth Blight. "Respect will get you far, if you can manage it. I can't say it will always be enough, but at least you can assume that as a 'qunari' expectations won't be terribly high. They are 'barely civilized' after all." She rolls her eyes at such nonsense, looking for more books to shove his way without breaking his arms in the process.
"In Thedas, the Chantry's rise to dominance and its fight to maintain said dominance have caused several wars. They are called Exalted Marches, crusades on behalf of the Chantry against whoever they deem as enemies; Tevinter, the Qunari, and the Dales, among others. This is not to say that the Chantry has nothing of redeeming value, but the gulf between what should be and what is can be rather wide. Not all wars can be traced back to the Chantry, however. People can find many reasons to massacre each other; religion is only one of them."
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"Don't I know it. Geez, I could tell you alllll kinds of crazy history from back home that would just make you shake your head and write us off as hopeless. But we made it out the other end okay, so I usually assume everyone else can, too. Provided they want to enough and have the helping hands necessary. I can't say we would have done as well without the Traveler, but there's no denying that we've hung on very tightly even without him. On the whole I think most people want to be good and do the right thing. Get enough people thinking that way and you usually end up alright."
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"In my experience, most people want to be left alone to live their lives peacefully. Whether or not they get that outcome is another matter entirely. But yes, those who are more proactive can indeed influence matters for the better. And...the Traveler? Who is he and what has he done to aid you? Do you think we might see him here?"
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"The Traveler is...I don't know. Not a person. Maybe not a he. An entity...an intelligence beyond mortal understanding, I suppose. Best as I can explain, the Traveler is...was...this benevolent intelligence that took our crumbling world and shaped it anew. It came from the skies bearing knowledge from worlds beyond imagining, taught us to wield the Light - another word for magic, really - taught us how to cure diseases and largely just broke the shackles of ignorance. But where there is Light, so to must there be Darkness. Whatever the Darkness is, it followed the Traveler. Came at us. The Traveler sacrificed itself and saved our world. Not really a God or anything, though there are plenty of cults that worship it. It just hangs there in our sky now. Dead, I think. No one really knows for sure."
He clucks his tongue, shrugging and picking at the spine of a book before rising to his feet and offering a smile.
"The Traveler is the only reason I'm alive and exist, though, so I guess it's as close to a God as I've got."
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"I think I understand. You owe this Traveler much, in many respects. The library is not the appropriate place for a demonstration, but if you would be willing at another time and place, I would be interested in seeing what magic you possess. So that it's fair, I can demonstrate my own."
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"It'd probably be a good idea, just to figure out what my limits are, now. I get tired doing my magic, where before I didn't, really. There was always a recovery period where I had to gather more energy before doing something really serious again, but here it's more involved. Sorta spooked me, initially, but I think I get it. More like inner forces here instead of ambient energy." He's not always dumb.
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She holds up a finger, needing just a moment, and returning with her own, propped up against a library wall nearby. "This is mine, a lightning-based staff that used to belong to ancient Tevinter. The irony of it being in my hands now is not lost on me."
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"It's kind of important," he adds, reaching over his shoulder and gripping the hilt to pull the weapon forward, turning it out in his hands and offering it up for Inessa to hold, if she likes.
"I specialized in solar - or fire - magic for a long time. Now I mostly focus on arc abilities - which is lightning, basically - but the sword is from my days as a Sunsinger.
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"Yeah but, I don't cast through things like a lot of people write about in your books. Warlocks don't channel through objects...the magic channels through us," he explains, raising his hands up his sides before thrusting them out, gesturing as best he could the idea of pulling magic into his body, then pouring it out - without actually casting, of course. Outside he could show her more, later.
"Maybe I should explain. See, Warlocks sort of...tame the elements. We reach out, in the earliest stages of learning, for sympathetic energy and kind of...I don't know, ask permission to use it?" he laughs, grasping for a good way to describe what he and his ilk tend to do.
"But when you do the really powerful magic later on, you allow the element to consume you completely. Like, if I were to summon a storm, the spirit of the storm, so to speak, courses through me and out of me at my direction, but in order to be able to do that I had to go out, stand up to a massive tempest and pretty much tell it off until it thought I was badass enough to run around with. Now a storm always lingers behind me, unseen until I call upon it. Boom," the Guardian finishes, gesturing casting with one hand.
"I used to be a Sunsinger, but mostly I stick to Stormcaller on the field. Way more efficient in combat. I studied to be a Voidwalker, too...but...I don't like using the dark forces. Not sure that's bias because of being a Sunsinger for so long or because it's legitimately bad magic, but I've know some pretty awesome Voidwalkers. I just leave that to them, though," the man remarks, hunching slightly and reaching out to run his hand over the flickering stone set against the blade of his sword; it always looked as though a fire perpetually burned inside.
"The Light is where we ought to walk."
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"That kind of bond with the elements is...well. I can't say it's something that we have here, and that might be just as well. People fear mages enough without the notion of a constant, literal storm within. When it comes to element, ice is my affinity. However, I can't say I harbor a blizzard in the manner you mean. I can summon one, yes, but that's all. And I've yet to use lightning or fire for myself, though there's nothing stopping me. It's just that my focus is elsewhere, for now.
I can't say without us going elsewhere, but I suspect that the more powerful the magic is and the less it conforms to Thedosian magic, the harder it will be to bring forth and maintain. More spectacular results requiring more effort, and whatnot."
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"So you're a vessel that can contain the immeasurable, or whatever it was they kept saying. I don't know. I ask questions and I tinker a lot, but I'm not like the deeper thinkers in my sect. I kind of regret it, sometimes, but I'm also more fun than they are. Sooo, fair trade off, I guess?" the Guardian remarks cheerily, perking a bit and wiggling his fingers at Inessa.
"I dunno if I can teach anyone to do what I do, but I'd definitely like to see if I can learn magic here. Adding more subtle elements to my repertoire would be pretty awesome on the field back home. If I could freeze an Archon Priest or blind an Ogre with a snow storm, that's be tops."
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"As for magic, I honestly don't know if you would be able to learn. No one in Thedas just becomes a mage, it's an inherent ability that you hone through years of practice. Perhaps your powers will translate to such, but I don't want to be the bearer of incorrect news, so please take that with a grain of salt. At any rate, it's more likely you would begin with something small and move up from there. A blizzard -or tempest or column of fire- take a lot of focus and discipline."
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"It's kinda complicated, maybe. I don't know how it sounds to someone outside that kind of life. Basically we had wars - lots of them - and a lot of people died. The Traveler made the Ghosts and the Ghosts can find the fallen and bring them back for a greater purpose. Namely protecting all life. But they can't bring the original person back, they just bring back a person. Just a body and mind with nothing in it from before other than a will to fight. It's way more involved than that, obviously, since we all have our own personalities and such, but we don't have a past. Just a future."
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"Well, realistically, that could be what the Ghosts do. Most beliefs where I'm from say that when you die, whatever little mystical, intangible thing inside that makes you who you are goes somewhere else, permanently. Heaven, Hell, Nirvana, Shambhala, Xibalba, Elysium, Hades...everyone believes something different. Or that we just cease to be. But either way the body is empty, so maybe Ghosts stuff spirits in there, and we're just not self-aware. Who knows?" he shrugs, not terribly worried about it, but filing it away for later questioning. If he ever went home, it would be worth going to the different colleges of thought with any new insight.
That and the archivists and cryptarchs would probably toss some money his way. That never hurt.
"Sort of both," Mac admits, shrugging again and reaching up to rake a hand through his hair. A habit impeded by new horns, which he briefly gets tangled in.
"Having a role makes it easier not to be so confused when you come back. Without Ghosts to guide us and a purpose already written down I think we'd all be a lot more...I don't know, afraid? Though we're rarely that. It isn't often that a Guardian questions their role in things, but it does happen. Usually that just leads them to do something even more impressive or important, but sometimes...sometimes it makes them turn away from the Light and then it can get really bad. Mostly it's just kind of lonely. You still think about and want things like normal people, but you're not normal anymore, so you can't really have it. That sounds more gloomy than I intended. Sorry. Usually it's fine."
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