I. A. Going deeper and deeper into the ruins, the more and more Waver wondered about what it was that had caused the previous inhabitants to leave. Determing that could be a life time's worth of work, and here, now, he only had a few days.
Craning his neck up at the great statues, he did not hide his curiosity. "Wings," he muttered to himself. "How common are those?"
His curiosity only intensified when the smaller built in vilage revealed itself. Building on top of ruins did not surprise Waver at all, but what did surprise him were the skeletons. There was no sentimentality as he knelt beside one, only curiosity. Without touching the bones, he leaned in to try and examine them. Were there wounds, were there cracked bones, were there signs of how they died?
Waver sighed heavily. "Why weren't you buried? Any of you?"
I. B. [Remaining among the ruins had been a choice Waver made, and he stayed there trying to draw out the entire scene as well as he could. He...was not the best, but he tried, filling page after page with notes about the layout of the ruins, the layout of the village, and even going so far as to have a small map noting where there were unburied bones. Whatever this place had been, it could be helpful to someone sometime in the future and...it was fun, charting this all out. It wasn't improving his magecraft, but it was improving himself and his skills. It was a chance to do one of the things Clock Tower made it seem impossible to work on.
But as he worked, the sun starting to dip in the sky, the place echoed in a way it should not have. Ought not have. There were whispers, far and unfamiliar, their words just too far away to understand. Every time Waver heard one, he perked, only to be sure he was hearing things.
And then there were the things he began to find on the ground, just as twilight began to fall. In a blanket of purple glow, Waver spotted a video game cartridge that he could have sworn he misplaced only a week before arriving in Thedas. He walked over to examine it, convinced that he had to be seeing things.]
What the hell is this doing here?
III. Llomerryn's market is loud, crowded, and goddamn fascinating. Waver's aware that he is not blending in, feels it in his bones. He stares down at the materials for sale for too long, he moves slowly. Fuck it. He's allowed to indulge after...whatever the hell that was back in those ruins. He still hasn't quite figured it out, and right now he's far more intent on examining the thick woolen fabrics in front of him in order to determine what he actually wants to purchase.
"Damnit," he sighs, talking to himself. "Should've asked what winters are like in Kirkwall first."
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Going deeper and deeper into the ruins, the more and more Waver wondered about what it was that had caused the previous inhabitants to leave. Determing that could be a life time's worth of work, and here, now, he only had a few days.
Craning his neck up at the great statues, he did not hide his curiosity. "Wings," he muttered to himself. "How common are those?"
His curiosity only intensified when the smaller built in vilage revealed itself. Building on top of ruins did not surprise Waver at all, but what did surprise him were the skeletons. There was no sentimentality as he knelt beside one, only curiosity. Without touching the bones, he leaned in to try and examine them. Were there wounds, were there cracked bones, were there signs of how they died?
Waver sighed heavily. "Why weren't you buried? Any of you?"
I. B.
[Remaining among the ruins had been a choice Waver made, and he stayed there trying to draw out the entire scene as well as he could. He...was not the best, but he tried, filling page after page with notes about the layout of the ruins, the layout of the village, and even going so far as to have a small map noting where there were unburied bones. Whatever this place had been, it could be helpful to someone sometime in the future and...it was fun, charting this all out. It wasn't improving his magecraft, but it was improving himself and his skills. It was a chance to do one of the things Clock Tower made it seem impossible to work on.
But as he worked, the sun starting to dip in the sky, the place echoed in a way it should not have. Ought not have. There were whispers, far and unfamiliar, their words just too far away to understand. Every time Waver heard one, he perked, only to be sure he was hearing things.
And then there were the things he began to find on the ground, just as twilight began to fall. In a blanket of purple glow, Waver spotted a video game cartridge that he could have sworn he misplaced only a week before arriving in Thedas. He walked over to examine it, convinced that he had to be seeing things.]
What the hell is this doing here?
III.
Llomerryn's market is loud, crowded, and goddamn fascinating. Waver's aware that he is not blending in, feels it in his bones. He stares down at the materials for sale for too long, he moves slowly. Fuck it. He's allowed to indulge after...whatever the hell that was back in those ruins. He still hasn't quite figured it out, and right now he's far more intent on examining the thick woolen fabrics in front of him in order to determine what he actually wants to purchase.
"Damnit," he sighs, talking to himself. "Should've asked what winters are like in Kirkwall first."