You have it exactly. More that it was competition, and despite being competition, I had no place in nor desire to be part of the struggle up the clan hierarchy. I would never be an alpha, and I wouldn't even wish to.
[He's happier with the road he's taken.] I'm fortunate to have found another path. I work directly for the Beast Lord and his Consort. ...more is consort. And I lead the Pack legal department. It keeps me somewhat out of individual clan politics.
Ah, politics... [Guess who also wants to stay out of it, though is thoroughly interested despite the civil war? Akvos only exasperated said stance.]
While my knowledge of human society is... lacking for want of a better term, it only seems to matter for nobility in Ferelden. Dwarves are still backwards and follow a caste system of sorts. It came as a shock that their only then-living Paragon preferred women. Especially to her drunkard of a widower.
[And you bet your ass she rubbed it in his face after all the insipid and ridiculous comments.]
Politics are... messy. Complicated. Occasionally they have their uses.
[He is good at them, when he wants to be. He has a knack for it, for understanding people and figuring out their motivations. It's all a puzzle to be put together. But he's also seen the toll it can take.]
Well, I don't know what a Paragon is, but I'm not sure I can fault her preference.
[Drunkard of a widower isn't all that flattering after all.]
Occasionally. [She'll give him that one.] Though often the more direct approach works just as well.
"Living ancestor" according to them. They venerate those who came before them; that is all I ever could understand of their culture. [At least it beats the Chantry, in some ways. Others she side-eyes hard.] Nor can I. He joined our merry little traveling band and, as predicted, was either drunk or reaching for a bottle after a stupor.
[Or hitting on her while her love was right. there.]
[If she ever comes across the codex entries information again, she'll share it with him. As it is...]
I was the first to join the Wardens' little entourage, sent with them by my mother. Alistair, the senior of the pair, bucked at any opportunity to lead and deferred to the new recruit. Said recruit got imprinted upon by a dog not long after we set out.
Sten, a qunari -- giant with horns -- has even less of an idea on how to function in human society than I do and is hyperfocused on the finish line that he stumbles into the obstacles. He also had no idea what cookies were. We were all offended by this as much as he glared at the three mages and commented on how not sewing our lips shut was "not civilized".
[Yes, Barabas. You heard that right.]
Leliana was a laysister in the Chantry- [And by that definition, they got along like cats and dogs.] -and a former bard--minstrel and spy in another country. Wynne is a Circle mage, and every bit the suffocating want-to-be mother figure of the entire group. Zevran is an assassin who tried to kills us and failed. Shale is a golem who has a vendetta against pigeons. Also one of the few tolerable members of the group.
Then there's Oghren, the charming little drunkard. [Such sarcasm much eye roll wow. But her tone softens perhaps a little too much.] ...and Amell.
[Sorry he's still wrapping his mind around that roster. It definitely presents for an interesting party to travel with.]
Why pigeons?
[That's where he landed. Sorry, Morrigan.] Also, do you often make nice with assassins who tried and failed to kill you? I thought that was something only Kate was prone to doing.
Shale was stuck in suspended animation for thirty years in a small village. The birds liked to poop on her before taking flight.
I did not. Amell decided it was best to keep him along, despite my warnings. [This is it. This is the man she fell for.] Now I fear what would happen should the two of them find themselves in the same room.
["Adopt ALL the assassins who tried and failed to kill us!" is far too bloody likely for her tastes. It's a bitter comfort if she does return home at any point, she'll soon be on her own.]
She's adorable. Barabas doesn't bother trying to hide the grin that spreads across his face at that. He is, however, at least smart enough not to tell her how cute that is.
He likes his throat not torn out, after all. But really. Good for Morrigan.]
Well. Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you then, with that type. But better a challenge than boring.
Abysmally, considering the fact that the area I had designated and was to plant the seedlings I've thus far cultivated is under roughly a foot of snow. Thankfully I hadn't yet, and thus they are still safe in the relative "springtime" clime of my room.
Why? 'Tis not often I find others so interested in horticulture.
How very irritating! I'm glad that your foresight has kept the seedlings safe, else that would have been a lot of time and effort wasted by capricious temple weather.
I usually leave that to others, but I've worked in and hunted in forests for years. I know a few things about herbs and plants that can be useful.
Also, the apothecary in Faerun had a few ingredients I thought you might be interested in. Perhaps for potions, or other balms, as needed.
Not so much foresight as it was realizing the usual timing and deciding to keep them near my brewing station. At this rate I may simply transform my room into a greenhouse.
[wouldn't be the first time ANYWAY]
...I would be grateful. Considering where we tend to end up, t'would be a fool's errand not to accept. Especially with the limited healing capabilities among our number.
Hmm. You know, it's not a bad plan. Though perhaps there's a spare room within the temple that could be turned over to such a purpose?
My thoughts exactly. And since contributing to the gathering of materials is about all I can do for that, I'm happy to oblige. When would be most convenient to drop them off to you?
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