"Honestly if there are a people who might have methods such as that in Thedas, it would be the Qunari but the Qunari are very unlikely to share with the rest of us. For many reasons." The Qunari in general are a subject Thedas always seems to like to keep well away from them unless it's to bring up heathen oxmen or something like that, and she understands why people like Korrin have good reason to feel that way, or any mage who fears restrictions tighter than the Circles. It doesn't change that the Qun seems to have things that the rest of Thedas doesn't and that the other thing they don't have is a much tighter restriction on magic.
As much of an outsider as she is, Araceli knows when to notice things and keep her mouth firmly shut until she is entirely sure about the company. "Thedas does have plentiful ruins, Ellana Ashara, a friend of mine has gone to more than one very recently. Elven but many of the oldest ruins in Thedas are. She would be a good place to start I think."
Hopefully Ellana won't mind if Waver does head her way, if she does, Araceli can always make it up to her.
"There are the tales of the cetus, this sea monster but we have leviathans and other beasts where I am from and we learned how to sail alongside them and that's without the aid of magic. Thedas has Blights and wars, it looks inward to rebuild, to expand territory, to alliances or whatever else might be done around their neighbours. Perhaps they are afraid to think beyond." Perhaps they've been taught not to for so long that it's become such a part of them that they don't even think about it now and she has to look away to the table, closing the map because it feels like it's mocking her just by sitting there, so small, so pathetic. She smiles suddenly, the bard mask up because she's practiced, teasing and almost coy. "You could say that rifters are new cultures, no? I was in the first group to arrive, it has not been as it is now. We were branded demons, I was even called one to my face. We're friends now."
Araceli hasn't counted herself as a rifter in a long time now, not since she understood what would be best for her; assimilate into the Inquisition, make herself useful, find a true place to belong. Yet here is always the heart of it: there is a mark on her hand, this is not the world she belongs to and so she will always be a rifter and what one of them does reflects on them all, and perhaps having been here as long as she has or what she does as a bard and before in her home? It makes her too aware. There are always so many eyes. Not all of them are kind. But there are always eyes, always watching, and they all have mouths and hands to report with.
no subject
As much of an outsider as she is, Araceli knows when to notice things and keep her mouth firmly shut until she is entirely sure about the company. "Thedas does have plentiful ruins, Ellana Ashara, a friend of mine has gone to more than one very recently. Elven but many of the oldest ruins in Thedas are. She would be a good place to start I think."
Hopefully Ellana won't mind if Waver does head her way, if she does, Araceli can always make it up to her.
"There are the tales of the cetus, this sea monster but we have leviathans and other beasts where I am from and we learned how to sail alongside them and that's without the aid of magic. Thedas has Blights and wars, it looks inward to rebuild, to expand territory, to alliances or whatever else might be done around their neighbours. Perhaps they are afraid to think beyond." Perhaps they've been taught not to for so long that it's become such a part of them that they don't even think about it now and she has to look away to the table, closing the map because it feels like it's mocking her just by sitting there, so small, so pathetic. She smiles suddenly, the bard mask up because she's practiced, teasing and almost coy. "You could say that rifters are new cultures, no? I was in the first group to arrive, it has not been as it is now. We were branded demons, I was even called one to my face. We're friends now."
Araceli hasn't counted herself as a rifter in a long time now, not since she understood what would be best for her; assimilate into the Inquisition, make herself useful, find a true place to belong. Yet here is always the heart of it: there is a mark on her hand, this is not the world she belongs to and so she will always be a rifter and what one of them does reflects on them all, and perhaps having been here as long as she has or what she does as a bard and before in her home? It makes her too aware. There are always so many eyes. Not all of them are kind. But there are always eyes, always watching, and they all have mouths and hands to report with.