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calderamemes2024-11-29 12:00 am
calderaevents) wrote in calderamemes2024-11-29 12:00 am
TDM #4
ARRIVAL
It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:
As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.
“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”
And you most certainly do.
Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.
DRINK MENU
WINTER'S WHISPER A fragrant spiced tea that calms the nerves and inspires the drinker to share their hopes and dreams.
JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.
S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.
MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!
HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.
CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.
GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!
JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.
S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.
MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!
HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.
CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.
GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!
CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY
As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:
You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:
The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.
The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.
The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.
Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.
The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.
If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.
But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.
Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.
In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?
The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.
If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.
In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. Home upgrades can be purchased via rewards.
FANNING THE FLAMES
The renewed seething of the lava flows brought on by the tempestuous events deep below the sea seem to have been dealt with, though city guards have been stationed around the crater and are barring anyone from approaching to investigate any further than the outskirts. Interestingly, not only does the crater seem calm, it appears to be changing. Any remaining lava flow is being directed as if by unseen hands, and when the light catches just right, the barest hint of a shimmer can be detected surrounding the glowing rivers. New rock formations take shape as the days pass, though one never can catch the presence of a mason working on the structures. It's as if something intangible or invisible is repairing what was broken, turning what was previously chaos and ruin into order and life.
SEASON OF LIGHT
The world remains unsettled, still bearing the scars of the trials endured just a month prior, not to mention the oddities happening with the volcanic crater and the ominous shadows creeping in from the sea continue to haunt the collective psyche, leaving both locals and visitors on constant edge, fearful of a sudden, unprovoked assault. Despite these lingering anxieties, the leaders have publicly reassured all that calm has been restored. They claim that the worst is behind them and that every measure is being taken to prevent such devastating magics from ever threatening Salt Spire again. The protective bubble holds, new Undine are being ushered into their roles, and the world, it is said, is slowly healing. Or so they claim.
Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.
One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.
The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...
Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.
One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.
The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...
THE GRAND MASQUERADE
Another highlight of the season is the Grand Masquerade that unfolds high above the world in Heaven’s Bow, the floating city where the wind dances in the sky and the stars seem close enough to touch. The event is more than just a celebration of the Season of Lights—it’s a gathering of hope, a last-ditch effort to save Caldera from its slow unraveling. Here, among the clouds and the wind, the people of Caldera and the mysterious Visitors from other worlds come together in a shimmering, ethereal celebration, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks and appropriately fancy dress provided when one steps through the threshold of the castle gates.
The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.
Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.
As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.
The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.
Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.
As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.
THE SKY'S ASCENSION
At one end of the palace's terrace, a floating platform hovers above the clouds, surrounded by shifting air currents. Sylphs glide effortlessly through the space, their wings leaving trails of light as they move to the lively music, which seems written by the wind itself.
Aella, Admiral of the Slyph, stands at the center of the platform, her cloak of shimmering feathers rippling in the breeze. She surveys the crowd, inviting those brave enough to take part in her challenge. Before them, a maze of floating platforms stretches out, some wide and stable, others narrow and swaying in the wind. The task is simple: leap from one platform to the next, navigating the shifting air and ever-changing obstacles.
The platforms move unpredictably, some rising higher, others sinking, and a few disappearing entirely. Guests must time their jumps perfectly, balancing agility with timing as they avoid falling into the clouds below.
Those who succeed will earn Aella’s favor (in the form of 100 Bones and a single white feather). And those who falter will simply reappear the start of the challenge to begin anew or give up with no repercussions for the latter save perhaps a bit of embarrassment.
THE SEA'S SECRETS
On the other side of the terrace, a serene water garden unfolds, its shimmering pools reflecting the stars above. Water flows in delicate, endless cascades, filling the air with a soft, soothing melody that mingles with the distant sound of waves. The Undines, graceful and serene beings of the Sea, glide effortlessly through the space, their robes flowing like gentle currents, their movements as fluid as the water itself.
Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.
The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.
Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.
As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.
Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.
The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.
Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.
As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.
THE LAND'S EMBRACE
In the heart of the palace gardens, beneath a canopy of flowering trees, the Dryads drift gracefully among the guests, their earthy skin glowing with life and their eyes bright with the vitality of nature. The air is thick with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine, while the ground beneath the guests' feet pulses with a quiet energy, inviting them to pause and feel the garden’s magic.
Terra, the Lady of the Land, stands at the center, her form adorned in living vines and blossoms, moving as if the garden itself flows through her. Her presence is both nurturing and fierce, a silent invitation to those seeking connection—to the land, to love, and to one another.
Guests are drawn to the tranquil beauty of the garden, stealing soft moments with their partners among the flowers. Lovers exchange quiet glances, touch petals with gentle fingers, and share unspoken promises beneath the soft glow of lanterns. The garden hums with romance, as if the earth itself is blessing these tender moments, offering the quiet assurance that love—like the land—can grow in the most unexpected places.
As the night draws to a close, Terra’s gentle power is felt in the air, and for those who have taken the time to connect with the garden’s beauty, a soft gift of nature is bestowed. A flower—unique and radiant—appears in their hand, a token of love and growth, a reminder that even the briefest moments can take root and blossom into something everlasting.
QUESTBOARD [NEW QUESTS ADDED]
Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.
Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.
Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.
OOC NOTES
Welcome to Caldera's fourth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.
For OOC questions, please direct themhere.
All locations are available to be explored!
The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.
main navigation
For OOC questions, please direct themhere.
All locations are available to be explored!
The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.
no subject
And then she speaks, and the world ends.
At first Solas cannot breathe. He simply stands, mute and frozen, a statue of stone and horror in the icy street. Then he turns, slowly, and then at once, a deer's wild suspicion in the grace of his shock. How? How could she be here? How could this be... No spirit, however coerced, would dare his wroth in this manner.
And yet. And yet, if this were not a dream, no prison, no strange new fade-construct meant to bind and torment one such as he? If she were real? If all of this were real as well?
"Vhenan," He echoes, helpless to deny it, "You are here."
Why? Why, no matter what strange twists of fate, what unlikely places he is doomed to, can he never outpace the grasp of his regrets? And yet... He cannot move. He cannot deny the gravity of her, looking at him with her reserved, violet sorrow. Oh, he knew her, as he knew his own soul, and he longed.
"How? Why?"
no subject
He didn't expect to see her.
And conflicted about it--which hadn't been that unusual, really, it was a state Solas seemed to exist within more often than without. But she had thought-- The nerves that danced along her skin sunk into her flesh, a chill seeping into her separate from the snow.
"I am." Her voice catches, she shakes her head and steadies it. "I do not know how. We said our goodbyes to the others, and then--" When she had arrived, a nasty suspicion had laced its way into her mind. Seeing him had eased the burden from her mind. The strange tavernkeeper had been expecting her--Solas did not. If this had been some horrible plan to finally escape her search, one or the other of those could not be true. This was a puzzle that seemed to be missing pieces, but the important ones were here. Staring at each other like the gap between them were measured in miles, not feet.
"As for why..." Beleth squares her shoulders, resolute. "Ar lath ma. Iras ma ghilas, ar garas."
no subject
...But then she has always known. Brilliant and wise beyond all of his plans, contravening every expectation, she has always dogged his path with that same resolute determination: a wolf in her own right. He forgets, he sees her mask, and like so many he mistakes the flame-quick shadow of her for reality. But she was so much brighter, undeniably real.
That was the heart of the problem, after all.
"I thought I had escaped my prison. But I did not come to this place of my own volition," He is calm now, or trying to be. He folds his arms behind his back and composes his words carefully. She is... thinner, there is a new scar, faint at the collar of her shirt, though it will heal cleanly, he thinks. Her eyes are calm, but hunted, haunted. Something in him is not what she expected to see? "Even so, I must return. You know this. There is too much left undone."
no subject
For neither the first nor last time in Beleth's life, especially when her emotions start to rise in her throat as they are now, she wishes her brother were here. That he would bull his way through into the heart of the matter, and Creators damn--ah. No matter the consequences. But he isn't (and it's her fault, a voice whispers in her head), and it's up to her.
He seems more Fen'Harel to her then, with his hands grasped so tightly behind his back, his pose so stiff and careful, face so seemingly composed. A tall, distinguished figure, her vhenan cuts, when he tries. She wants to reach out and touch his face, get that stiffness to melt under her fingers. Or find another Well of Sorrows to go bother with, to break him out of the chill that wraps around him. She'd take his wrath over this.
"It is already finished--That is what you told Rook, what you told me, and--her." There is a moment where something flavors that word. Anger, or distaste. It's someone Beleth does not like, at least. "Your prison--" Was that it? Was this the piece? "--Do you speak of the one you swapped with the Evanuris--And then swapped with Rook in turn." She levels a look at him at this, and holds it steady. "Or the one where you feel like you have no choice, but to continue this crusade? You told me, you told me--" She takes another few steps, but her eyes are flashing. Is she the idiot? The fool who once again believed the Dread Wolf? She had thought she'd known him well enough. That his surrender to them all had been genuine. The way he had held her, and--
"You said that we would go, together, Solas."
no subject
But not this; this was... passion. She advances on him, and he takes an unwilling half-step back before recovering his balance, holding his ground. She's never done that, before, never come at him as if to attack.
She doesn't attack, not with her hands, nor any weapon, save that which is most cutting.
"What? Finished?" Solas stares at her in astonishment, "Nothing can be finished while Elgar'nan still lives."
It is the most novel thing that has happened to him since the surprising occasion upon which Varric's most recent wastrel had enclosed him in his own trap. Perhaps he should be grateful to even be capable of being surprised, but Fen'Harel does not appreciate the sensation.
"We have not spoken directly in— Dirthara'shiral, go where? What are you talking about?"
no subject
So who's trick was it?
Her mind goes to the Tavern Keeper. Maybe she should have been more forceful with them.
Her hands go to her waist, and she takes a deep, steadying breath. Explain everything. She can do that, at least. They'll figure this puzzle out, together. She won't let it be any other way
"Elgar'nan lies dead, killed by Rook, with the lyrium dagger." That was the most important point, of course. It still tastes odd in her mouth, to rattle off the name of her god as an enemy, but she will acquire the taste in time. "His archdemon had been slayed by your hand." Or his maw, to be more precise. Though again, it struck her how the wounds of that lengthy fight across Minrathous seemed miraculously healed, even for his powers.
"Then, the Fade began to..." She trails off, makes a vague hand gesture. Break? Unravel? Disintegrate? Solas would understand. "And Rook held counsel with you." It was certainly one way to put it. "I... offered my thoughts as well. And--" Her lips twitch. "Morrigan, her wisdom. Then..." She glanced off, suddenly hesitant.
"There was one other. A sliver. But whole enough to give you her own insight. One you heeded unlike any other."
Jealousy. It's an ugly emotion. It feels ugly on her skin, like clothing she would never wear. But it lays over her anyway.
no subject
But she would not lie. Somehow, it had come to pass, then; he shuts his mouth.
The Archdemon at least, makes more sense. After Weisshaupt, the last of the living Evanuris would grow more cautious, naturally. It would take a truly unprecedented power to defeat that monster, and Solas knew his own strength equal to the task.
One you heeded unlike any other.
"Mythal," He says, the name pulled out of him as unwilling as a groan of pain, "Of course."
He cannot even ask how, his mind racing in circles, brow furrowed. He has forgotten his mask of indifference entirely, nor to guard from her nearness. Flemeth? No, she was dead. Morrigan had not even a fragment of her mother's mighty spirit, gifted with memory alone, not enough to matter, by Lavellan's own admission. Then what?
"I would have offered anything, to secure aid, to kill Elgar'nan: when he dies, the veil will fall. And after..." Does she not know that it will kill her if it is allowed to continue? How can she not know? How can she not care? "Ah."
They would want for another anchor, another living god's blood to hold up that terrible wall.
"I can only guess at what was said, to secure my cooperation," He says, seeing now the entire scheme, all their hopes and intentions. It is a cooperation that he has no memory of giving, nor can truly believe he would have. It is no less than he deserves, but it is still an agony: that she would desire death, rather than the world he would have given her, "I understand now, your confusion, Vhenan. I am sorry, to have startled you— I have no memory of any of this. My last action before arriving here was to exchange places with Rook, and step free of the Evanuris' fade-prison."
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"We told you the truth, Vhenan. That you are not beyond saving. That you don't need to keep doing this. That you deserve forgiveness." It has less power behind it when it's just her. None of the others, with their own words and the power behind them. No Mythal to release him from his binding. Just her. Standing there, in the cold, so close to him. "I know it is not an easy thing for you, to believe these words. But they are true, and after much...debate," She gives a little motion with her hand. He can guess at the arguments that took place. "The discussion was concluded."
How was that even possible? She knew time worked oddly within the Fade, but they seemed to have been pulled from it. And she'd never heard of this, of someone having lost time they had spent alert and conscious. Solas seemed as lost as she was, and if he was confused, then it seemed the idea behind it beyond her knowledge indeed. It was, however, the piece that fit this puzzle that had confounded her, however little she understood the ability. Solas had not been expecting her, because as far as he was aware, she was still unraveling the mess the gods had made of southern Thedas. He had not had the counsel of the others, had not agreed to bind himself, and to leave with her.
"My memory goes slightly further than yours, it seems. My last action was telling you that we would be journeying together, when you left. To... soothe the blight?" Not that she had any idea what that meant. She hadn't worried, at the time. "You argued, of course. But you found my counter argument very convincing." Even with the somberness she felt, the conflicting emotions, the worry and frustration, she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips, as she recalled the feel of them against his. "And then, your hand in mine," She reached her hand out, offering. "We left."
"Vir shiral malasa, bellanaris."
Maybe it was stupid. As far as Solas was concerned, he hadn't seen her, hadn't agreed with her, hadn't left with her. But at the least, even if he didn't take her hand, even if he turned away again, she knew he would hear in her voice the sincerity. He would know that she had left with him, that she meant what she had said. Where he went, she would follow.
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How could he ever agree to such a thing, in the first place? And to leave the veil intact and the world thus crippled, how could he ever have agreed to such a disgrace to all who had suffered, had died, to get this far? How could Mythal ever forgive him, how could... how could he ever bear to let it go, his great duty, the only thing he might ever have done to correct his betrayals, and leave it unfinished on the precipice? No. No, never. It is a fantasy that she holds out to him, an impossible dream.
But it is so beautiful. And that vow, the promise he himself had given to his own first love, so many ages ago... Always, always she tempts him, to dream and put aside the unending weight of his long regrets.
"Oh, ma Vhenan. Ar ghilas vir banal, ir fen'harel," He tells her. It can bring only pain, this terrible daydream. He will only hurt her further, where he is going. He can only betray her, and yet his arm is rising of its own accord, his hand reaching forth, "You should turn away, and walk another path. Ar lasa mala revas, do not ask me for it a second time. I am not a good enough man. I have not the strength."
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"Tel banal ar ama." She has meant it the first time, and the second. She would keep meaning it, every time she spoke the words. As many times as it took.
"Freedom? Do you think our love is a shackle upon me, that you must liberate me?" She juts her chin up, Dalish pride and stubbornness dancing across her face. The idea that she would need unchained--if their conversation were not so dire, she would be sorely tempted to pout.
"I am in no bondage, Solas. I am free. This is the path I have chosen, and that I will walk. And this?" She finally closes the distance, takes his hand, squeezing it. Thinner, she thinks. Rougher. She can fix that, as well. "This is strength. This is our strength." Her other hand makes true the wish she carried since she first saw him on that cold street, rising to his face, fingers brushing against that furrowed brow.
"Var lath vir suledin."
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"Vhenan," He whispers, broken, and he bends to acquiesce to her will. Very well then, if she wishes for the lie, then he can no more deny her that than to fly, "Lavellan..."
The kiss is light and gentle and broken, and then abruptly he cannot bear it and his other hand comes up to cup her jaw and it is searing and grasping, a hideous, clinging lack of control. He needs something, anything to hold to, some strength in this terrible place, to bear up against the impossible odds.
Weakness and strength. She has always been both, to him; so it is, now.
"I believe you," He murmurs, eventually, breathing the aphorism against her mouth, panting for air. He sets his brow against hers, and simply sways there a moment, eyes shut, and the snowfall is silent around them, "You are formidable, my heart. I was right to run from you."
His laugh is all air, just a broken, bitter little chuckle, devoid of good humor, "You would have broken my resolve in a day."
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She has lost him so many times, and it might yet occur in the future. But he is here now, in her arms, and that is enough. The rest will be taken as it comes.
Then his kiss heats, and Beleth burns. Any cold in the air is chased away by her beloved, the feel of him against her. His fervor is answered by her own, enthusiastic and frantic, like he might fade away and only this kiss will keep him here. Her hands grasp, greedy as her lips. It's only when Solas has the good sense to break for air that Beleth stops, blood pounding in her ears.
He's talking, again. It's important, and she should reply. But her lips are too busy twisting into a wide, exuberant smile. Goofy, she would call it, if she could look at herself. The Inquisitor, rendered a lovesick teenager by a kiss. Even so, there's no attempt to restrain herself, the giddy smile, the open and unashamed joy in her eyes. She radiates her happiness.
"My love. My heart." Things she's already said, but they escape her lips as an exultation, rather than the determined declaration they had been. "I've caught you. I am yours."
Not the way it usually works, probably. She'll sort the logic out when she's done grinning like an idiot.
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He could not be sad, to see her smile.
"Ar lath ma," He whispers, and he's helpless; she wins a laugh and answering smile, a little shake of the head before he kisses her again, "That has always been true."