Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)The Silver Muse
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2009
- Location
- PST
If anyone knows of this game and is interested and up to the idea presented within the introductory post, please feel free to send a PM or YIM message and post, or contact me through YIM to play with this or other any other pairings. See my profile for the necessary information and my website for other possibilities.
***
From the grounds of the Amell Estate within Hightown, Marian would clearly watch and feel the pressure and tension of Kirkwall building up throughout the passing year. It would only get worse, she was sure. News and rumors made their rounds through the streets and sewers, from the topmost spire of the empty Viscount’s keep to the lowest depths of Darktown. The highest power in the city was said to lie in the hands of Knight-Commander Meredith and the Templars that she commanded, or so most would give her that credit. Naturally, that wasn’t a unanimous decision. The Kirkwall soldiers and guards still retained their own autonomy in keeping the citizens themselves under control and out of danger, but executive decisions were either left unattended or cleared by whoever was the most interested party.
Marian herself hadn’t taken the initiative to throw herself into politics quite yet. Between favors and odd-jobs, the title and responsibilities that ‘Champion’ seemed to deem to her, she had her own hands full. In a way she did her own unofficial part in keeping some semblance of order throughout the city. The unrest and power struggles between the Templars and the Mages was not exactly good, but it never was. So long as the Knight-Commander could still be kept in check by the Chantry and First Enchanter alike, Marian saw no reason to push an issue that would soon enough push itself. Bethany was safe where she was for the time being with no way out and no other way to go. And, while Marian hated the idea of her imprisonment, she was not about to risk losing the last member of her own family through something as senseless as an escape. At least, not at that moment.
Without the Qunari to occupy the back of the public and political mind, and with the movement for the empty seat of the Viscount being relatively low, the normalcy was almost too much for the citizens to bear at times. Who knew who approved of it or how long it had been running, but during the end of the summer season, on the eve of the harvest, a Fete was scheduled to be thrown for the entire city. Marian could remember going to a few in her lifetime, when her family had all made the journey to visit Denerim for the event. This time it would be taking place just outside of her front door and throughout Lowtown. The woman would have been lying if she had said that the event did not interest her at all.
The morning began with merchants setting up shop all along the streets, decorations and lanterns being strewn in every archway. It would have been a shame to miss. That was exactly why she had sent a letter to Fenris’ dwelling, informing him that they would be attending. It was a fair enough warning, she thought. Who wouldn’t want to see ‘Maid Marian’ in a dress? Or so she wrote, if only to tempt him out of his niche if she had not annoyed him first.
***
From the grounds of the Amell Estate within Hightown, Marian would clearly watch and feel the pressure and tension of Kirkwall building up throughout the passing year. It would only get worse, she was sure. News and rumors made their rounds through the streets and sewers, from the topmost spire of the empty Viscount’s keep to the lowest depths of Darktown. The highest power in the city was said to lie in the hands of Knight-Commander Meredith and the Templars that she commanded, or so most would give her that credit. Naturally, that wasn’t a unanimous decision. The Kirkwall soldiers and guards still retained their own autonomy in keeping the citizens themselves under control and out of danger, but executive decisions were either left unattended or cleared by whoever was the most interested party.
Marian herself hadn’t taken the initiative to throw herself into politics quite yet. Between favors and odd-jobs, the title and responsibilities that ‘Champion’ seemed to deem to her, she had her own hands full. In a way she did her own unofficial part in keeping some semblance of order throughout the city. The unrest and power struggles between the Templars and the Mages was not exactly good, but it never was. So long as the Knight-Commander could still be kept in check by the Chantry and First Enchanter alike, Marian saw no reason to push an issue that would soon enough push itself. Bethany was safe where she was for the time being with no way out and no other way to go. And, while Marian hated the idea of her imprisonment, she was not about to risk losing the last member of her own family through something as senseless as an escape. At least, not at that moment.
Without the Qunari to occupy the back of the public and political mind, and with the movement for the empty seat of the Viscount being relatively low, the normalcy was almost too much for the citizens to bear at times. Who knew who approved of it or how long it had been running, but during the end of the summer season, on the eve of the harvest, a Fete was scheduled to be thrown for the entire city. Marian could remember going to a few in her lifetime, when her family had all made the journey to visit Denerim for the event. This time it would be taking place just outside of her front door and throughout Lowtown. The woman would have been lying if she had said that the event did not interest her at all.
The morning began with merchants setting up shop all along the streets, decorations and lanterns being strewn in every archway. It would have been a shame to miss. That was exactly why she had sent a letter to Fenris’ dwelling, informing him that they would be attending. It was a fair enough warning, she thought. Who wouldn’t want to see ‘Maid Marian’ in a dress? Or so she wrote, if only to tempt him out of his niche if she had not annoyed him first.
