[ closed ]

[aenseidhe]

WHO: Iorveth + Sorrelean Ashara
WHAT: just some new best friends drinking wine and talking shit idk
WHEN: Cloudreach 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: Racist ass elves. Continued from here.

[ After a few hours, it isn't difficult to find the Elven Artifacts office, even with the stroll around the tower the offices are held in, snooping around. Once night's fallen for a while, he wanders into the right office, shoulder leaning against the door frame, eye wandering the walls of the room, taking the look of Sorrelean's set up, nodding in vague approval. He's a picture that stands out from the other elves in this world, really. not only is the glowing shard in his hand one thing, but he stands at around 6'2", a good head taller than most any male elves native to this world are, and there's the bandana covering half his face, a nasty scar snaking down from under it to intersect his lips. No tattoos on his face, like the Dalish, but there's black ink depicting branches and leaves sprawling out from his right shoulder onto his neck, past his collar. ]

Look at you. Elf with a desk. [ Iorveth snorts, but with a smirk on his lips. The novelty of it is precious, and Iorveth wonders how long sights like this will last once this issue with Corypheus is resolved. Sighing, he paces his way in, flopping down heavily in the first chair available. ]

Had any humans have to report to you as of yet? Make them bow and kiss the ring? [ He might've done it. Maybe if it were choice humans he knew from home. Perhaps not these ones. ]

Comments

[aenseidhe]

[ tight bonds and long histories, yes, which made it all the more painful when one was lost, but such was the way of their war. they went into the forests and fields to fight and attempt to win back freedom for their people so those with families and elders wouldn't have to. and iorveth's unit was only one of many. survived well under his command, but still only a fraction of what they'd once been, before the northern wars and their betrayals. ]

A people is not a people with only warriors to speak of. It's well you have all then rest - children, hunters, crafters. They're needed. Homes are not homes if occupied only by warriors. They're barracks. [ he has no delusion about that, and never has. what iorveth fights for - a free, safe land for his people - he does not intend to be a part of. it's for them, and he's here to be the wall that surrounds them, keeps their vulnerable but pure lives from harm.

After Sorrel's explanation, Iorveth watching his illustrate, he nods for a moment, taking a thoughtful drink, before answering. ] You'll need the city elves. Regardless of differences in cultures, you suffer the same persecutions, and neither of you have enough resources or skilled fighters to make a peaceful home. Strengthen in - add in the dwarves, circle mages willing to agree to a law of no discrimination, the Qunari not of the Qun. Go to the mountains, find a defensible position, build your fortress and organize in ways no human in this realm expects you to.

That is how you win a home. The Dalish alone will never have the means to do so by themselves.

[writteninblood]

"That's not the first time you've mentioned the dwarves," Sorrel points out, confused, "Why would they help us? They've got money, guilds, laws, plenty of status. The lyrium trade alone..."

He doesn't mean to laugh at Iorveth-- but he does spread his hands with a helpless, breathy sort of a sound, halfway between a laugh and a scoff.

"...Why would they even care?"

[aenseidhe]

Those above ground, I mean. [ Yngvi has told him enough about the ones still in Orzammar that he doubts they'll care much about the status of social affairs outside their city. It's the top-siders he's referencing when he says dwarves. ]

For now, they're regarded as useful, but should they wish to ask for anything more than they have now, I doubt they'll be treated much better than elves and Qunari.

Once your people are finished, they'll come for them as well. Humanity cannot suffer peace for long. [ and are never satisfied with just what they have. ]

[writteninblood]

They don't usually ask. Carta's dangerous and they have plenty of gold.

[Because, as much as everyone likes to pretend Orzammar's leadership controls the whole of the lyrium trade, from the surface perspective much of that comes through the Carta and other smugglers, not merely the merchant's guild. Everyone takes their cut. Everybody gets rich and vicious and full of secrets.]

I don't think we're likely to be finished with anytime soon. They've only been trying for two-thousand years, after all.