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Annie is on her trike on her way to school.
This van labeled HAZARDOUS MATERIALS is also on its way to school.
The van hits a patch of black ice. It goes spinning, it turns over, it slices itself open on a wrought-iron fence with spikes, and it disgorges boxes which smash open on the pavement. Some of them skitter clear into the slush.
Some of them - along with most of the van - land on Annie.
There is a whirl of bewildering pain and confusion -
- and she falls to the ground, injured and in more kinds of discomfort beyond that and moaning.
She slowly starts to heal before the eyes of her sole witness.
six artifact pileup annie in thedas
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keep_busy
first-and-final
Stalas sighs. "Because I know you, Bhelen. You blindsided me with the Trian thing, but I didn't find it fundamentally contrary to your being once I knew. Exiling all the casteless into the Deep Roads would be fundamentally contrary to your being."
"And you want me to be king. If I don't assassinate people."
He seems to be having trouble comprehending this.
He seems to be having trouble comprehending this.
first-and-final
"Yes. Because otherwise I'd have to do it myself, and I do not want to do it myself."
.... Bhelen now looks kind of like he would like to cry. He doesn't, because he does not actually want to cry right now and that counts for something, but he doesn't make it into 'stoic.'
"... Okay. So when you say 'no assassinations' you mean no assassinations at all? ... Not even members of the Carta?"
"... Okay. So when you say 'no assassinations' you mean no assassinations at all? ... Not even members of the Carta?"
first-and-final
"If you have members of the Carta you desperately want rid of, I'm sure we can work out an alternate solution. I'm not above laying false blame for Trian's death, for example."
first-and-final
"I am willing to help you find alternate solutions to people you would like to have killed; I am not especially interested in being your consulting conscience, although if you really think you need one I'll step up."
first-and-final
"I come yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking and then we go from there. I'm not going to try to have you deposed unless you turn out to be catastrophically, atrociously awful to an extent I truly don't believe is possible, because, again, if I thought it was possible I'd be in Lord Harrowmont's study right now."
first-and-final
"Now I take Caridin and go tell Pyral to sit down and shut up. And then," he says with deep feeling, "I am going to have a fucking bath. If you want my help on anything else that needs doing today, speak now, because after my first good bath in two and a half months I am going to have my first sleep in two and a half months and I probably won't be awake again until midday tomorrow."
first-and-final
"Thanks." He smiles. "It was good to see you again, Bhelen."
And he reaches out to the pile of golem armour, and as soon as he touches a gauntlet the whole thing glows white and swarms into place, and he turns to leave.
And he reaches out to the pile of golem armour, and as soon as he touches a gauntlet the whole thing glows white and swarms into place, and he turns to leave.
Bhelen is just going to sit down in his chair, and try to adjust to this new bizarre world that he lives in.
He does not know what the fuck just happened.
But he does think it means he gets to be king, so - he's pretty okay with it.
He does not know what the fuck just happened.
But he does think it means he gets to be king, so - he's pretty okay with it.
first-and-final
Stalas, meanwhile, collects Caridin and goes to tell Pyral to sit down and shut up.
He pulls the same private-meeting-with-the-Paragon gambit, but this time he unmasks as soon as the door is closed. Lord Harrowmont is astonished. And really, really reluctant to sit down and shut up.
"Look," says Stalas, "out of everyone in Orzammar, I have the most reason to hate my brother. If I can support him, why can't you?"
"He had Trian killed! He blamed you for it!"
"I like you, Lord Harrowmont. I respect you. You're an honorable man and that's a rare distinction. But while I believe you'd give Orzammar your best, this is not the kind of game where you get points for effort. Bhelen is a genius politician. I've spoken with him on this, and I trust him to do what's right for the kingdom. I know you're doing what Father asked, but Father isn't here."
"Did you - is this - no," Harrowmont sighs. "I can't believe that you would have set this up. It's too... strangely plausible, that you actually dug up an ancient Paragon out of the Deep Roads instead of dying in exile like any other dwarf."
"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment," says Stalas. "So. Are you with me?"
"...I'll withdraw my bid for the throne. Reluctantly," sighs Harrowmont. "And... welcome back."
"Thank you," says Stalas, smiling.
He sends a messenger ahead and returns to the Ortan house with Caridin, four and a half hours after he left. And he proceeds directly into the bath, where he remains for another hour.
He pulls the same private-meeting-with-the-Paragon gambit, but this time he unmasks as soon as the door is closed. Lord Harrowmont is astonished. And really, really reluctant to sit down and shut up.
"Look," says Stalas, "out of everyone in Orzammar, I have the most reason to hate my brother. If I can support him, why can't you?"
"He had Trian killed! He blamed you for it!"
"I like you, Lord Harrowmont. I respect you. You're an honorable man and that's a rare distinction. But while I believe you'd give Orzammar your best, this is not the kind of game where you get points for effort. Bhelen is a genius politician. I've spoken with him on this, and I trust him to do what's right for the kingdom. I know you're doing what Father asked, but Father isn't here."
"Did you - is this - no," Harrowmont sighs. "I can't believe that you would have set this up. It's too... strangely plausible, that you actually dug up an ancient Paragon out of the Deep Roads instead of dying in exile like any other dwarf."
"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment," says Stalas. "So. Are you with me?"
"...I'll withdraw my bid for the throne. Reluctantly," sighs Harrowmont. "And... welcome back."
"Thank you," says Stalas, smiling.
He sends a messenger ahead and returns to the Ortan house with Caridin, four and a half hours after he left. And he proceeds directly into the bath, where he remains for another hour.
first-and-final
He spends a lot of time just sitting there in warm water not having to worry about anything.
Then he sighs and gets out and puts his clothes back on and, finally, emerges.
Then he sighs and gets out and puts his clothes back on and, finally, emerges.
keep_busy
Twitch. Not pacing not yelling not tearing her hair out not bursting into terrified tears not pouncing on him.
first-and-final
"Hello," he says. "I solved the succession dispute, verified to my satisfaction that Bhelen isn't going to have me killed, and for the first time in two months I feel like a person instead of a filth-ridden lyrium-fueled determination machine. ...The very next thing I wanted to do was sit down with you and actually get to know you on a personal level without the external pressure of being about to be killed by darkspawn or needing to avert civil war, but I'm starting to be afraid that I might fall asleep instead."