[Voice]

[paragonbrosca]

So, I can't be the only one who's been smacked in the face with culture shock, right? Or technology-shock, because a lot of the shit that's here I've never seen or heard of and have no idea how it works. I've figured out a couple of things through trial and error, but I'm not too proud to admit most of my reaction is still 'no fucking clue'. For those in the same boat, how long did it take you to adjust? What's the craziest discovery you've made? And for those that aren't, care to lend some advice? I'll pay you in drinks or other stuff; if you've the patience to endure all my questions, you've earned it. 

I've said it elsewhere, but just repeating myself now: if you're on that hit list and not that great at defending yourself, let me know. I'm pretty damn good at that, and so is the large war dog at my side. [Said war dog lets out an eager bark.]

Comments

[paragonbrosca]

I never saw it the first time. Alistair and I were busy in the tower when it really happened, but Morrigan and Flemeth told me.

We found Cailan afterwards, but not Duncan.

[fadeling]

Beaten, broken, bloodied, bashed. He was a king, once, but he's nothing now. Like nothing. Like less than nothing. Shadows and signs and symbols, but dark ones. They don't have any respect how do they respect him?

[paragonbrosca]

...yeah. [Heavy sigh.] He got a funeral pyre, at least. Not exactly the funeral Ferelden's king deserves, but it's the least we could do.

[fadeling]

It helped. [It may not have been much, but it helped.]

[paragonbrosca]

Good to know. I'd like to think Justice would have approved, too.

[fadeling]

Maybe. I don't know him.

[paragonbrosca]

It's too bad I can't get you guys to meet, but maybe someday. I just hope he'll show up with the helmet I gave him, so people don't freak out about his body.

[fadeling]

Why?

[paragonbrosca]

Well, the body he's in has been dead for a while, and it shows. People tend to not want to see that.

[fadeling]

Oh. [Yeah, that would do it.] Maybe he will. Maybe you could ask.

[paragonbrosca]

Ask the gods, you mean? Have you ever spoken with them?

[fadeling]

No. I don't need things.

[paragonbrosca]

Not even to help people? That's what you do, right?

[fadeling]

Yes. But I'm not a person.

[paragonbrosca]

You might count as close enough, for that.

[fadeling]

But I'm not.

[paragonbrosca]

Well, I'll still count you as one because I'm a Paragon and I say so. So, there.

[Barkspawn interrupts and she shushes him.]

Yes, I know, you want to play. We'll see him soon.

[fadeling]

Oh. Thank you. [He actually sounds like he really means it, too.]

You should take him to Cecily. She has hers too.

[paragonbrosca]

Yeah, I think I'll do that now. The apartment seemed aired out enough by now that I don't feel guilty leaving this for the next person. Those gods might want to replay the small heater, though.

[fadeling]

You could ask.

[paragonbrosca]

Maybe, but since they gave me weird-ass dreams I never asked for, I'm wary of what will happen if I do actually ask for something. There's not a lot of trust to spare for them.

[fadeling]

Sometimes they help. [Usually not, though.]