( She is not sure she has a place here. It is not a dissimilar feeling to her childhood, memories that that been stirred more than once since the fall of the Spire. With each visit to an alienage, even those she has been to before, she is foreign. Elf-blood, yes, but there is no obvious mark of it, and that absence only makes her more an outsider. She has earned no place here; to be a friend of Saoirise is not something universally recognised, and she would not have it so.
The problem is, truthfully, that she is not sure her mother would ever have had a place in the Starkhaven alienage were it not for her role as healer. A lucky blessing, perhaps—
She needs to visit Starkhaven, see her mother. She has not. She should, but she has not. That is but one of the reasons she kneels before the Vhenadahl. It is part of her history, even if she is not elvhen enough to call it hers, but she has some need of peace and of guidance, and she is not sure that standing in the forest that inhabits the space where the Chantry once was is enough. That is neither one thing nor the other, but she is aware that that in and of itself might make it better suited to her.
Neither one nor the other. Not a proper human, not an elf. Not a proper mage, it would seem, but tainted by the Fade. Not a real knight, and perhaps not properly of the Chantry, either. So many things begun but not completed, a strain of music composed that cannot be played. Herian Amsel is a forged to be a forgery, she suspects, although she also suspects that wordplay is not near so clever as it felt when the thought of it first occurred to her. )
OPTION A: AT THE VHENADAHL. ( She kneels, and she prays. Eventually she becomes aware of the presence of another, but continues her prayer. )
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.
( And Herian looks over her shoulder towards the person nearby. ) Did you have need of me?
OPTION B: HELPING OUT. ( Check it out, it's Herian. She's doing things, being majestic. Right now it's taken the form of trying to fix someone's door. Now, she's no woodworker or builder, but most people in alienages aren't, or can't afford the help of those who are. What she is is strong, capable, and willing to think this through to get it right.
So she's got an improvised set of equipment, and is currently hammering nails into a roughly hewn wooden door to help repair it.
Maybe its going well, or maybe she just mashed the crap out of her finger. If it's the latter, she impressively didn't show the pain.... much. )
OPEN — in the alienage. 3 max per option pls.
The problem is, truthfully, that she is not sure her mother would ever have had a place in the Starkhaven alienage were it not for her role as healer. A lucky blessing, perhaps—
She needs to visit Starkhaven, see her mother. She has not. She should, but she has not. That is but one of the reasons she kneels before the Vhenadahl. It is part of her history, even if she is not elvhen enough to call it hers, but she has some need of peace and of guidance, and she is not sure that standing in the forest that inhabits the space where the Chantry once was is enough. That is neither one thing nor the other, but she is aware that that in and of itself might make it better suited to her.
Neither one nor the other. Not a proper human, not an elf. Not a proper mage, it would seem, but tainted by the Fade. Not a real knight, and perhaps not properly of the Chantry, either. So many things begun but not completed, a strain of music composed that cannot be played. Herian Amsel is a forged to be a forgery, she suspects, although she also suspects that wordplay is not near so clever as it felt when the thought of it first occurred to her. )
OPTION A: AT THE VHENADAHL.
( She kneels, and she prays. Eventually she becomes aware of the presence of another, but continues her prayer. )
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade
For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light
And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.
( And Herian looks over her shoulder towards the person nearby. ) Did you have need of me?
OPTION B: HELPING OUT.
( Check it out, it's Herian. She's doing things, being majestic. Right now it's taken the form of trying to fix someone's door. Now, she's no woodworker or builder, but most people in alienages aren't, or can't afford the help of those who are. What she is is strong, capable, and willing to think this through to get it right.
So she's got an improvised set of equipment, and is currently hammering nails into a roughly hewn wooden door to help repair it.
Maybe its going well, or maybe she just mashed the crap out of her finger. If it's the latter, she impressively didn't show the pain.... much. )