"Careful," comes a quiet voice from a nearby doorway. Another doorway and another set of stairs, both of which the designers of Skyhold apparently had some enthusiasm for. "History is a wondrous thing, but these books are steeped in the words of victors."
Her voice is not bitter, but her temper is. People ask for stories of the old days, of the Blight, and she could spin any tale she wished. They ask for stories of the Dalish and of Orlais and Tevinter and countless wars and dragons and any number of topics, and Leliana knows only one thing with certainty - any story she has heard is naught but an incomplete truth. She doubts Lara needs to hear it, she seemed sharp and perceptive during their brief meeting, and anyone with an ounce of sense could tell you that simply being inked to a page makes something no more truthful.
Crossing the distance between them (somewhat, she remains a couple of paces from Lara), Leliana nods respectfully. "I'm glad you made it."
And that she asked around. Leliana's scouts let her know when there is someone seeking the Nightingale.
no subject
Her voice is not bitter, but her temper is. People ask for stories of the old days, of the Blight, and she could spin any tale she wished. They ask for stories of the Dalish and of Orlais and Tevinter and countless wars and dragons and any number of topics, and Leliana knows only one thing with certainty - any story she has heard is naught but an incomplete truth. She doubts Lara needs to hear it, she seemed sharp and perceptive during their brief meeting, and anyone with an ounce of sense could tell you that simply being inked to a page makes something no more truthful.
Crossing the distance between them (somewhat, she remains a couple of paces from Lara), Leliana nods respectfully. "I'm glad you made it."
And that she asked around. Leliana's scouts let her know when there is someone seeking the Nightingale.