Herald of Andraste (andrasteschosen) wrote in belorelogs, @ 2015-03-08 20:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | bray whiteheart (sindorei_) |
Who: Evelyn Trevelyan and Open (open to multiples!)
What: The Inquisitor is inquisitive as to how or why she ended up here. She decides to take a peak around to see if there are any rifts open.
When: Sunday, March 08, 2015 afternoon
Where: Around town
Evelyn was used to being out of her element. One moment, she was but another member of the conclave convened by the Divine to finally discuss peace between the Templars and the Mages. The next, she was the only survivor amidst the rubble of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She was thrust into the middle of the Inquisition, and from the start she had been their unofficial leader until the destruction of Haven. After that, the weight of the world was placed on her shoulders. Leliana, Cullen and Josephine may have advised her, and she had her companions, but ultimately… everyone turned to her, particularly as things became more and more complicated. Ancient Magister bent on becoming a god, even if it meant complete and utter destruction of his world? Voices from red Lyrium? Traveling through time and space via blood magic. Random Elven goddess turn out to be just as real as anyone else? Gigantic nugs used as beasts of burden? Why not.
Venturing out here couldn’t be any worse than venturing into the Winter Palace. Every step there was a step in the wrong direction, it felt. Evelyn had been more a noble, but nobility meant little when one had magic. Her family had given her up to the circle as soon as she had showed the talent. Josephine, however, had helped her to navigate and relearn so much of what she had ‘lost’ during her time at the circle.
It felt strange to be without any of them. True, she had Hawke, and hopefully the other mage would show up soon. In the meantime, Evelyn tried to traverse this strange new place. The roads seemed to be made of a strange material, that became very warm in the sun. There were large carriages that held passengers but no horse, not even a Hart, Dracolisks or Nuggalope, pulled it. The clothing was strange. Not even in Orlias did she see such things.
The sudden crack of magic caught her attention, as did a slowly darkening section of the sky. Evelyn felt the anchor alive under her skin in a way that hadn’t happened since she thrown Corypheus into the fade to destroy him. She drew her staff and prepared an ice spell under her breath. She knew what this meant.
Demons.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, hundreds of spiders the size of a large dog began to pour out from a rift. Evelyn brought down her staff and finished casting a Blizzard, a coat of ice adding to her dragon armor, but it would only slow the little beasts down… and she was vastly outnumbered.