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[Tevinter Soldier]

They believe in the Maker and they have Circles. It's far from mage paradise. 

 

circles are schools not prisons, in fact not only is it not required to attend its a privilege, plus the templars are over seen by magisters.

Plus magic is revered and seen as  gift by the maker which asserts mages divine right to rule.

 

that said if your a weak mage its no picnic.

[herkles]

circles are schools not prisons, in fact not only is it not required to attend its a privilege, plus the templars are over seen by magisters.

Plus magic is revered and seen as  gift by the maker which asserts mages divine right to rule.

 

that said if your a weak mage its no picnic.

 

true, but it is not a mage paradise. Tevinter is hyper-competive, and it is filled with byzantine scheming and power struggles that most southern mages are not used to. 

[Br3admax]

circles are schools not prisons, in fact not only is it not required to attend its a privilege, plus the templars are over seen by magisters.

Plus magic is revered and seen as  gift by the maker which asserts mages divine right to rule.

 

that said if your a weak mage its no picnic.

It's not a school anymore than a Sith academy is a school. I can do without the propaganda. 

 

Right, but they can't draw mana from it unless they drink it.

Not so sure. Merrill said she could cleanse the mirror with "piles of lyrium," and I doubt she planned on drinking it all. There's also the fact that lyrium vapors are definitely a thing. 

[raging_monkey]

circles are schools not prisons, in fact not only is it not required to attend its a privilege, plus the templars are over seen by magisters.
Plus magic is revered and seen as  gift by the maker which asserts mages divine right to rule.
 
that said if your a weak mage its no picnic.

yes might makes right in tevinter it is a wonderful nation that its very politic are daily harrowings and after your harrowing it never ends. You fight or you die

[Tevinter Soldier]

It's not a school anymore than a Sith academy is a school. I can do without the propaganda. 

 

care to explain what you think it is and how it operates? considering from what i've seen it's hard to get into but non mandatory every known magister comes from a circle and enchanters even get seats in the magistrium it appears to be an Ivy legal uni from where i sit. 

[Tevinter Soldier]

Is there a place in the Tevinter Imperialized world for a man who wields no power but only himself?

 

perhaps in the military but politically you need to have connections to the old magister houses or circles.

at the very least have favour of the archon.

[The Baconer]

Not so sure. Merrill said she could cleanse the mirror with "piles of lyrium," and I doubt she planned on drinking it all. There's also the fact that lyrium vapors are definitely a thing. 

 

Depends on the what one is trying to accomplish and the scale. Raw Lyrium is used for more demanding rituals like entering the Fade or whatever Merrill was trying to do with the Eluvian. Going by Asunder, this is where the vapors (which emanate from the liquid) come into play.

 

However, if one is simply trying to bolster their spellcasting, using raw Lyrium is too dangerous and impractical, which is why it is ingested in its processed form.

[raging_monkey]

perhaps in the military but politically you need to have connections to the old magister houses or circles.at the very least have favour of the archon.

and religiously to an extent

[Br3admax]

care to explain what you think it is and how it operates? considering from what i've seen it's hard to get into but non mandatory every known magister comes from a circle and enchanters even get seats in the magistrium it appears to be an Ivy legal uni from where i sit. 

 

A dog-eat-dog world. Just like the rest of Tevinter. The fact that magister's come from the Circle, and every single one seen is corruptasfuck, should be telling. 

[raging_monkey]

So do all the nations wish to conquer each other or just the Tevinter Imperium?

so many questions my friend * pats back with a hearty laugh* its himan nature to wish to conquer our nation due to a ideological impass and some rogue elements giving us a bad name and they seek to conquer us for it. Other nations ultimatly wish to conquer all under one banner

[Master Warder Z_]

I wrote another drabble for my Tevinter fic.

 

Anyone interested?

[raging_monkey]

I wrote another drabble for my Tevinter fic.
 
Anyone interested?

i

[Master Warder Z_]

Good enough.

 

xxx

 

Consciousness slowly returned and so do did awareness; but even with that awareness he could not move, he was trapped, his limbs and body locked into place and once his vision cleared he realized why.

 

What had once been an elegant command room; the room in which he had plotted a dozen defense stratagems to repulse the Qunari had become a fiery hell; the walls were sagging and the ceiling buckling, a massed wave of rubble covered the floor, burying documents, books and maps.

 

This fortress, this piece of Tevinter pride which had stood against Qunari time and again had been breached; smoke filled the air as fires spread around the interior of the bunker.

 

Despite the chaos of the interior it was oddly quietly; occasionally he heard the scream of foreign accents, men yelling their orders, the cries of his countrymen but soon even that faded.

 

The fortress was lost…they had put up a formidable defense, they had stalled the Chantry invasion for nearly three days and cost them dearly but this battle…was over.

 

Consciousness began to slip away; breathing became difficult.

 

Was he dying?

 

He felt his life fading, he tried to call upon his connection to the fade, invoke his magic but…he didn’t have the energy for it. 

 

Was he to die down here from smoke inhalation? He had faced Qunari, Nevarrans and Anders and he was to die from smoke? 

 

The thought was almost funny.

 

Even now though…the constant whispers from the fade; the constant temptation, the offers, ways to save himself…his men, his land, all he would need do…is simply make a deal.

 

He was recalled back from his drifting state of mind by the sound of the heavy steeled door of the bunker being shoved inward; even this final sanctuary had been breached.

 

This fortress was lost; if they had gotten this far it would mean the entire exterior battlements were occupied.

 

There was no way out for the defenders.

 

The foreign soldiers rushed into the room; from his position in the corner he had a most excellent view of their entry.

 

What struck him odd was not their tactics but their heraldry adorning the Pikemen’s hauberk were the markings of the Orlesian Empire and his compatriot with his shield? It appeared hailed from Nevarra.

 

Pikemen and shield bearers rushed forward in tandem prepared to gut or cut down anything that even moved; but likely to their disappointment…this room was a room of death already.

 

He heard the cry as one of the men announced the room cleared; a conversation followed but he was only able to make out scattered bits of it, something to the effect of the entire section of the bunker complex being cleared and how their forces were advancing deeper into the fortress.

 

It was then that the enemy officer made his appearance; his form was unimposing, his height appeared average, his choice in weapon? Expensive but not overly so, but his armor revealed the station this man bore.

 

The black armor of the seeker stood over him; around him, despite being nearly buried alive beneath the debris and wreckage of the fortified bunker. the words spoken were muffled as the elite soldier of the southern Chantry conversed with several others, barking orders and sending away his host.

 

The seeker paced around the collapsed wreckage of the command room; kicking over several of his adjutants over; no doubt to make sure they were dead

 

What was he doing? Was he here solely to ensure that the outer defenses had been entirely secured? 

 

There was no one living within this chamber save him and the seeker; all the others, his friends, his subordinates, his soldiers had perished when the walls themselves had trembled against the fury outside.

 

This room; this place of safety…it had become their tomb.

 

“Now that we are alone; I know I sensed a presence within the room other then that of my men.” The Seeker murmured softly.

 

It was then that he spotted the crushed and buried form of the Magister.

 

“Ah; a living Tevinter.” The black armored warrior seemed nearly amused.

 

The seeker then proceeded over to the collapsed wall; kicked aside several loose bits of masonry from his path before planting his boot atop the pile and drawing a fearsome looking red steel long sword from his waist sheath and leveling it squarely against his exposed throat.

 

“Not just a Tevinter a mage! A commander even!” The seeker actually had the gall to laugh.

 

“This fortress has fallen mage; even now we are laying siege to the inner courtyards and armory, how long do you think they will hold out? A few hours? A day at most? You cannot stop this, this Exalted March, this crusade against barbarism and madness.” The Seeker spoke aloud his words gruff and metallic coming through his fearsome plate helm.

 

But even through the thick metal of his armor; the pride, the self righteousness oozed of him like a toxic miasma, his zealotry was evident in waves.

 

This seeker, this soldier of the chantry utterly believed in the legitimacy of their invasion.

 

Such zeal chilled the veteran Magister’s blood.

 

“Can you even hear me old man? Are you even conscious?” The Seeker grumbled when he received no reply to his barbed words, perhaps he merely intended to taunt him before killing him.

 

He tried to respond but the only sound that emitted from his throat was a dry hacking fit preceded by a drawn out wheeze.

 

“Pity; You knew I grew up on tales of how powerful you mages were, how powerful this imperium was…and we crushed the first of its defenses in only a few days. Marnus Pell’s mighty coastal batteries, the fortresses that held off the Qunari for months.” The seeker spoke before casting his full  plate helm to the floor, revealing his features.

 

He looked liked any other man; his features were almost plain, apart from his stern eyes and strong jaw he could been anything, anyone.

 

“If this was the best you could offer I hope further inland we will actually meet a challenge.” The seeker announced coldly.

 

“As soon as this fortress is out of the way; we are going to take that city and burn it to the ground. And Maker willing; nothing will grow upon this tainted earth ever again, this Imperium will fade from waking memory and become nothing more then a delusionary fragment of reality, a myth.” The Seeker stated before pulling his blade back and giving a few half hearted practice swings.

 

Perhaps it was the announcement of the fate of his home city, perhaps that of his nation and his people…but Numarian found his resolve and his strength.

 

He found the strength to do what he must do.

 

For the glory of the Imperium, for his family and for all the men, women and children this act would spare.

 

“You are all going to die on this fool’s errand…” The Magister sputtered weakly; despite his strength of will his body still seemed unwilling to actually put actual energy into anything.

 

“Eh…what was that?”  The Seeker questioned; his narrow and beady eyes glinting dangerously as he eyed the mage once over again.

 

“I hope you burn Seeker…victory or death...” the Magister groaned out as he violently pulled back on his right arm; finally freeing it from the rubble that was engulfing his entire body.

 

The Seeker reacted to his freedom instantly; his sword raising and plunging outward towards him at full force; even as he felt the burning bit of the steel plunging into his chest he felt his hand make contact with the ground below.

 

He groaned out in extortion and pain as he expelled; all the mana he had managed to gather, all the will he had clung to so desperately. The magic left him even as he felt the coldness of his life leaving him.

 

The Seeker’s cold and dispassionate eyes never his own; was he curious? 

 

He would soon understand just what had happened; even as the light faded for him he could feel the magic racing down the path, acting as the spark to empower the system of glyphs that the Magister who had constructed this fortress insisted be placed within the entire bunker system and along the battlements.

 

As the glyphs were empowered so did too did they activate; walls exploded outward; floors gave way, ceilings collapsed atop the Invader and Tevinter alike; all around the fortress gouts of flame shot from the earth as a magical hellfire burst from the walls and consumed everything within its path.

 

The very stone melted even as the mortar oozed and gave way; the battlements shook and trembled cries of terror echoed across the fortress as the southern invaders realized just what was happening; the entire fortress was to become their grave as well.

 

The last thing he saw before the raging inferno engulfed the command room was the look of utter shock upon the Seeker’s face.

 

Marnus Pell fell four days later

 

xxx

[Uccio]

Good post Ukki.
I'll see you in Nevarra .

Hopefully.

[raging_monkey]

Still look forward til the final product

[Master Warder Z_]

Eh it might actually happen who knows.

 

I'll need to actually get to the point where i can wrap up my current Naruto story though.

[raging_monkey]

Take your time

[The Elder King]

Hopefully.

I can contact an old friend of mine. His name is Frederick. He's an old Necromancer that was once the FE in Cumberland, he now lives in the capital. He's the one who helped me contact a Spirit and become a Spirit Warrior. He has a lot of experience and knowledge in the field.

[Master Warder Z_]

 He's the one who helped me contact a Spirit and become a Spirit Warrior. He has a lot of experience and knowledge in the field.

 

You know honestly every time i hear about the spirit warriors i remember them...

 

Those poor sons of....

 

Anyway <.<

 

Spoiler

 

Spoiler

[Uccio]

I can contact an old friend of mine. His name is Frederick. He's an old Necromancer that was once the FE in Cumberland, he now lives in the capital. He's the one who helped me contact a Spirit and become a Spirit Warrior. He has a lot of experience and knowledge in the field.

 

You do that. Send me his information, I will find him when I get there.

[raging_monkey]

* reads slave manifest looking for tarem* ive found you

*Zera walks into manor* ... i need a drink

"But you never need a drink.. you just hit things, you alright? Is ukki fine?"

Zera was hesitant to say what her father saod her. She generally hated lying especially to monkey, he knew that he was by all standards a monster but he never hid that and knew he deserved better than that... "My father is going on another one of his trips.. and i am to be his subsitute til his return. I dont know if can do it.

Monkey knew there was something else... retribution could sense it and what she sensed he sensed "well if that all..." he let the question linger

Zera knew he was giving her the chance to tell him. To assuge her worries with humour and idealism but despite his status as first enchanter he didnt know tevinter like her "yes thats all come its late"

Monkey knew was hiding something but understood knowing she would tell him when ready "let me finish this reports and ill be there soon" he said as she went to bed

Retribution: shes lying you know

"I am aware but we still have to find tarem and punish him for his crimes. She has enough problems lets not add to them

Retribition: yes we have more important things to do

[Master Warder Z_]

This is about how i picture "voting" in Tevinter.

 

[raging_monkey]

This is about how i picture "voting" in Tevinter.
 

least its not detriot