driftfleet | Video

Who: Lark
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Paisley
When: Evening

[It's a grisly scene that the video opens up to. Lark sits in the kitchen of the Paisley on a table. Every surface around her (and visible behind her) is taken up by strips of meat. There's even some meat hanging up where she'd run out of surface. The elf herself also isn't the prettiest sight right now, there's smears of blood on her cheek and her shoulder appears to be a bloody and ragged mess of red fabric.]

I've failed to introduce myself officially. My name is Lark Mahariel, I come from Thedas. I'm in charge of communications on the Paisley and it's a pleasure to meet those of you I have not stumbled across on my own.

More importantly, I've spent the better part of the last couple days tracking and hunting one of the planet's predators, I suspect it's meat will make for good long-term rations, if anyone is interested; there's plenty. It's been cleaned and cured and is currently drying, but of you'd rather it fresh, feel free to get some now.

I also have the beast's armor if anyone has any skill with crafting.

[She starts to reach for the off button, but pauses.]

I...might also request the attention of a healer or someone similar, if one is available.

[If not...well, she's Dalish. She'd make do.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That's a surprise. He'd initially wanted to ask if Lark perhaps knew his elven companion but logic told him that not every Dalish knew each other and it would be incredibly rude to ask such a thing. Here instead Lark's saved him the trouble.]

She did. Keeper Marethari sent her with me. Merrill said they came all the way up from Ferelden but I didn't want to assume anything.

[He reaches into the pouch at his side for a small bottle of elfroot potion and a clean cloth. He hands her the bottle, then flips the cloth over his shoulder and goes to get some water from the sink.]

You can ask me what you like, just take this and then tell me where your injury is the worst first.

[She followed instruction, but then set the bottle aside as she worked on undoing the clasps at the top of her shirt. A moment later, she'd pulled it off with a hiss of pain and dropped it to the floor below. She'd need to clean and mend it later.]

My shoulder. Everything else is scrapes and bruises.

Why did the keeper send Merrill with you?

[He debates the wisdom of just saying 'her own reasons' and leaving it at that. Merrill's issues with her clan are her own to tell or not and Adalwolfe doesn't feel he has a leg to stand on there, but he can't just leave the question unanswered. That would be rude, and just beg more questions.

Mulling over his answer, Adalwolfe comes back with his cloth and warm water. He dips the cloth in carefully and wrings out the excess water before gingerly starting to clean her wound in order to see properly for healing. He's not so good at it yet that he can simply cast out Creation magic and know it will do what it needs to do sight unseen.]

Truthfully? She asked to leave. She was a great help and a dear friend to me in the ensuing years after, but I think she didn't see eye to eye with the Keeper.

[She was careful not to move as he cleaned the wound, but unease grew in her as Hawke spoke.]

Do you know why they were in disagreement?

[She kept a measured evenness to her tone in an attempt to keep how worried she was under wraps. Merrill was the picture of a Perfect First, except for her social skills, nut she'd always listened to the Keeper. What could have possibly changed that?]

It's really her story to tell, honestly...

[Adalwolfe wrestles with himself for a long moment, framing it as cleaning her wound and examining how best to go about healing it. After almost too long a time he sighs.]

She was trying to fix a mirror, some kind of ancient Elvhan artifact. She said she lost a dear friend too it and was trying to bring him back. The Keeper didn't like her messing with it, thought it was too dangerous.

[Lark went tense and on-edge. Her mind was racing and she couldn't pin down a thought long enough to voice it. A mirror? There was only one mirror that fit that description. That mirror had ruined everything.

By the time it occurs to her she should say something, she's been quiet far too long and her voice comes out barely above a whisper when she finally finds some words. How could Merrill have done this?

Why couldn't that damn mirror just stop ruining lives?

Why'd they ever go in those Creator-forsaken ruins!?]

Thank you for telling me. And healing me.

[He nods, but only a moment passes before he's decided he needs to defend his friend. She's not here to defend herself, and the whole clan was against her. He imagines Lark is no different.]

She did it to help. I feel I should impress that. She only ever wanted to help everyone. She's a Keeper now, you know. Sort of.

[He lets what little creation magic he has do its job, knitting the skin of the wound now that he's sure it's clear of any detritus.]

Kirkwall's alienage insisted on calling her that, last I heard.

[Lark's expression twists a bit, her brows furrowing together.]

She could have been Keeper for clan Sabrae. She would have been great.

She saw-she shouldn't have touched that mirror.

[Suddenly, a look of horror crosses Larks face and she looks up.]

Wait! She messed with the mirror, she must have gone back after...she wasn't tainted, was she!?

Edited 2017-01-22 22:50 (UTC)

No, she wasn't. She's just fine.

[Well, that's debatable considering she's also a blood mage, but that's another thing he's not sure he should share with Lark.]

I don't know what she ultimately did with the mirror, I just know she's still trying to help everyone she meets.

[He sits back a bit, curiosity getting the better of him.]

What was she like when you knew her?

[Lark visably relaxes with Hawke's assurance. At least there was that. But she's quiet after his question, considering.]

Quiet. Quiet and diligent. [A small, soft, smile formed like a softly blurred edge.]

There were four of us growing up at the same time, practically the same age, we were like a little pack. Merrill never got along very well with anyone in the clan except for us, she was so reserved. I think Tamlen, Feneral and I were the only ones who really knew her. Well, aside from the Keeper. Merrill and I didn't know our parents...I think that helped with the two of us, we'd often sit together. She got into so much trouble because of us...she tried to keep us in line, but we were just too stubborn.

[As Lark reminisced, her smile brightened and brightened, but as the story ended and the reality of how things were now settled, it dimmed into nothing again.]

When she became the First, we didn't see as much of her anymore, she was always with Marathari, but we would sit with her after a hunt and enjoy our spoils with her. Tamlen and I did what we could.

[Lark's eyes stung and burned and she squeezed them tight and breathed deep to shake the feeling. She wouldn't bare such emotion in front of someone she didn't know. In a blink's time, she was composed as before.]

She was sweet and loving, the truest friend anyone could ask for, I simply wish she'd allowed others to see it.

Edited 2017-01-27 01:47 (UTC)

Video

action

action

action

action

action

action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject