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Entry tags:
they cut into heaven and called it a door
Who| Lilah and YOU
What| Arrival in the Arena
Where| The village, moving toward the castle
When| 2 days after the Cornucopia
Warnings/Notes| No warnings inherent. Brackets and prose both welcome. Hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
viridianwings if you'd like me to post another starter for your character.
Lilah knows she ought to have gotten used to the bizarre by now. Ever since she stepped out of the Fade, she's been thrust into one scenario after another - religious symbol, political maneuverer, fighter of darkspawn and red templars and rebel mages alike, druffalo wrangler, fade walker, and patcher up of the holes in the sky. In all of those roles, though, she'd been the one calling the shots. It was completely different to being thrust in here, unarmed and wearing a skimpy knight getup that would make Cassandra furious at its very existence, wandering alone through deserted buildings and desolate forests knowing that there was no plan here, no advisors she could turn to and claim their advice as her own idea, no companions to provide the muscle and the magic both, just herself, the ever glowing mark on her hand, and the foes that waited in the shadows.
She decides the castle's probably the best place to head for. It would be well fortified, and there must be some way that a Carta trained dwarf could sneak inside. But it's a long walk, and she's tired and hungry and defenseless, and as dark begins to fall, glow of the anchor on her palm is a beacon telling anyone nearby exactly where she is...
What| Arrival in the Arena
Where| The village, moving toward the castle
When| 2 days after the Cornucopia
Warnings/Notes| No warnings inherent. Brackets and prose both welcome. Hit me up at
Lilah knows she ought to have gotten used to the bizarre by now. Ever since she stepped out of the Fade, she's been thrust into one scenario after another - religious symbol, political maneuverer, fighter of darkspawn and red templars and rebel mages alike, druffalo wrangler, fade walker, and patcher up of the holes in the sky. In all of those roles, though, she'd been the one calling the shots. It was completely different to being thrust in here, unarmed and wearing a skimpy knight getup that would make Cassandra furious at its very existence, wandering alone through deserted buildings and desolate forests knowing that there was no plan here, no advisors she could turn to and claim their advice as her own idea, no companions to provide the muscle and the magic both, just herself, the ever glowing mark on her hand, and the foes that waited in the shadows.
She decides the castle's probably the best place to head for. It would be well fortified, and there must be some way that a Carta trained dwarf could sneak inside. But it's a long walk, and she's tired and hungry and defenseless, and as dark begins to fall, glow of the anchor on her palm is a beacon telling anyone nearby exactly where she is...