Stage 3

[unasked_for]

[He doesn't filter this, because he doesn't actually...know how, at least not very well. Besides, who outside his world is going to care? But he probably would, otherwise.]

Some years ago, I was injured fighting on Seheron. A group of qunari rebels took me in, tended to my wounds. They were...admirable, far beyond my limited ability to understand at the time. They taught me things I hadn't realized I was ignorant of. I owed them my life, and far more. Had I been given the chance, I might have stayed with them permanently.

...instead, I killed them all. I slaughtered my saviors on the orders of the man I hate more than any other.

There are many things I will never forgive him for, but that...that is chief among them. And neither will I forgive myself.

Comments

[chest-forest.livejournal.com]

You could indeed.

I'll be sure to grant you a bottomless supply of them. What are friends for, after all?

[unasked-for.livejournal.com]

Drink and stories, it would seem. [Fenris sounds almost more amused than broody now, Varric! Will wonders never cease.] There are worse things, certainly.

[chest-forest.livejournal.com]

I don't know, I've heard here and there that there aren't many things worse than my drunken tales.

I just think they felt a little emasculated at my ability to drink them under the table.