Sample Entry: Why is it that people are the most careless when in immediate danger? I will never be able to understand this. Darkspawn taint is no laughing matter, unless your name is Anders. In that case it would be prudent to keep your mouth shut lest the inherent stupidity be sensed by any ogre who happens by.
If it is not, then heed my warning because it will only be given once. The blood of these creatures is foul. It carries a taint that will turn you into the living dead, and drive you star raving mad. They subsist upon the flesh of humans. These creatures called "zombies" I have heard spoken of are very similar. In short? Stay away and let a warden handle them.
[ phew! what a mouthful. he pulls a long suffering look. ]
Anders, that cat has pissed all over my armor. You will clean this at once.
Sample Entry Two: Eight years ago, he'd been a right bastard. Had anyone told him that he'd come back from his fostering in the Free Marches to find his name and land in the muck at the feet of the Grey Wardens and that he would then turn around and join the Order and give dignity back to his family name? He would have laughed in their faces. Granted, he had not been a wastrel nursing a mug of ale or chasing skirts. He was the heir and could not afford to do as Thomas had.
But it'd just be unthinkable that a) his father would turn out to be anything but the shining paragon of greatness he'd built him up to be and b) that he could eclipse the man completely. Yet, he had. Men who spat on his father's memory now looked to him with respect around Amaranthine. The King might not be in any hurry to see another Howe at court, but he was no longer prepared to spend his days there. Unlikely as it had seemed at first, being a warden suited him far better than the tedium of ruling an arling and managing the lesser nobility in it.
He hummed beneath his breath as he ran the damp rag over the smooth wood of his bow. Darkspawn blood was a stain that never came out and he'd be damned if it would ever stay long on his grandfather's bow. Life now while not peaceful, was productive. And simple! He enjoyed that. Straightforward and to the point. He knew where he stood, and what was expected of him each day.
But he didn't want to get too predictable, either. These new recruits told rumors of him scowling even in his sleep. Perhaps if the wardens were ever to give him a vacation, he might brave Antiva. And do a little wenching while he was-- oh, right. Cousland had said that the courtesans there were no doubt part of the Crows. On second thought he might just make an uneventful sojourn to the Pearl instead! Cousland was the one with the patience to deal with those blighters, not him.
Nathaniel Howe | Dragon Age | 2/2
Why is it that people are the most careless when in immediate danger? I will never be able to understand this. Darkspawn taint is no laughing matter, unless your name is Anders. In that case it would be prudent to keep your mouth shut lest the inherent stupidity be sensed by any ogre who happens by.
If it is not, then heed my warning because it will only be given once. The blood of these creatures is foul. It carries a taint that will turn you into the living dead, and drive you star raving mad. They subsist upon the flesh of humans. These creatures called "zombies" I have heard spoken of are very similar. In short? Stay away and let a warden handle them.
[ phew! what a mouthful. he pulls a long suffering look. ]
Anders, that cat has pissed all over my armor. You will clean this at once.
Sample Entry Two: Eight years ago, he'd been a right bastard. Had anyone told him that he'd come back from his fostering in the Free Marches to find his name and land in the muck at the feet of the Grey Wardens and that he would then turn around and join the Order and give dignity back to his family name? He would have laughed in their faces. Granted, he had not been a wastrel nursing a mug of ale or chasing skirts. He was the heir and could not afford to do as Thomas had.
But it'd just be unthinkable that a) his father would turn out to be anything but the shining paragon of greatness he'd built him up to be and b) that he could eclipse the man completely. Yet, he had. Men who spat on his father's memory now looked to him with respect around Amaranthine. The King might not be in any hurry to see another Howe at court, but he was no longer prepared to spend his days there. Unlikely as it had seemed at first, being a warden suited him far better than the tedium of ruling an arling and managing the lesser nobility in it.
He hummed beneath his breath as he ran the damp rag over the smooth wood of his bow. Darkspawn blood was a stain that never came out and he'd be damned if it would ever stay long on his grandfather's bow. Life now while not peaceful, was productive. And simple! He enjoyed that. Straightforward and to the point. He knew where he stood, and what was expected of him each day.
But he didn't want to get too predictable, either. These new recruits told rumors of him scowling even in his sleep. Perhaps if the wardens were ever to give him a vacation, he might brave Antiva. And do a little wenching while he was-- oh, right. Cousland had said that the courtesans there were no doubt part of the Crows. On second thought he might just make an uneventful sojourn to the Pearl instead! Cousland was the one with the patience to deal with those blighters, not him.