Harvestmere in Thedas tends to have its own variations depending on where exactly you'd happen to be. According to the Chantry's books, the Harvestmere festival is older than even the foundation of the Chantry itself, as well as the Tevinter Imperium, meaning it's so old it basically predates recorded time in Thedas.
Still, it is kept well and alive, and celebrated throughout the continent. Fereldan especially holds this in high regard, and its peasantry celebrates the tradition on par with Chantry holidays. It speaks of surprising tolerance that the Chantry not only allows this, but actively encourages it in Ferelden, and its clerics, Sisters, Revered Mothers and the like all participate, showing themselves to be more than simply the spreaders of their faith.
It shares some traits with Harvest's End in Tamriel, though the amount of celebrations differ vastly. What is but a simple holiday in Tamriel, is an important festival in Thedas.
It is also the only time of the year you will have the chance of drinking a Revered Mother under the table.
Talia Aulus, 9:38 Dragon, Brief note on the cultures of Thedas.
Harvestmere
Mental illness sucked.
Technically, Talia didn't have a mental illness per se, but suffering from the effects of her brother dearest's childhood attempt at helping her build up a resistance to pretty much every poison known to man and elf, was pretty much like a mental illness. Skoma, however fun it was, was not something you gave a one-year old. Like, ever.
Mainly because Skoma didn't particularly mind whether the recipient was a baby or an adult. It still ripped around in the mind and caused the brain to utterly clusterfuck itself. And to a baby, that was not in any way a good thing. It had screwed her up pretty bad, and had actually continued doing so until her seventh birthday when she'd been old enough - and contained enough blood - to safely carry out a blood-ritual that simply put wiped her systems clean. Somehow, however, it apparently depended on her blood consistency to the degree that becoming a Grey Warden had probably nullified the whole thing, so now she was back to square one, which, as stated, sucked.
There was a lot of squirming involved, of course, and the hallucinations were pretty bad. She'd thought herself beyond the days of watching gigantic squirrels chasing mushrooms with pickaxes, but apparently those days weren't entirely behind her either. Then, there was the whole inability to really focus on anything at all.
It also led to rampant babbling.
In a way, it was kind of like lucid dreaming, in that she had no real conscious control over what her own body did. She could even hear the words coming from her own lips, though she couldn't actually process what she was saying, nor was she able to determine what she wanted to say. There'd been something apparently hilarious about something mother said though, which had caused her no end of giggling.
Then she'd been in a couch, and there'd been a pillow and she'd been a cat. It was all, in hindsight, very confusing. Now, she was still in that couch, but at least her mind was slowly starting to unfuck itself from the depths of madness. She could see two figures standing above her, figures that slowly started clearing up and into her mother and Aedan, of all people. Had they been there all along? Was she still hallucinating then, or was this actually happening?
Having at least regained some semblance of a coherent mind, she swallowed accumulated saliva and opened her mouth to speak.
"…bleh…meh…ma- wa…t?" it took the confused expressions on their faces for Talia to realize her words had not actually been particularly coherent. She scowled, primarily at herself for failing at being, well, herself; "Slut…Sodd…sla…Ma…my…dongue's sneebing…"
Aedan breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her coherent again
Mother simply sighed. She sighed, and then she bathed Talia in a warm, golden glow that made her feel all tingly right from her toes to the roots of her hair. It also sent an itching sensation through her tongue, and let her actually roll it around again.
"…thanks…" she muttered, not exactly wanting to look her mother in the eyes. This, this had to have been one of the most embarrassing things she'd done in recent memory, and her only consolation was that neither J'zargo nor Daveth were here to see it. Doubtlessly, they would have never let her live it down, and would bring it up on a regular basis.
"Are you okay?" Aedan asked, getting on his knees before her, as she was still prone on the soft pillows. He was equal parts worried and relieved, from what she could see, and it almost caused her to kiss him, only stopping herself when she remembered they weren't exactly alone.
"Y-yeah, I just…You, ah…really didn't have to see that…" she averted her eyes and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Huh, they had a chandelier up there? Since when? "…honestly I'd kinda wish you hadn't seen that."
"Sorry, I just got worried." He breathed; "I've never seen you like this before, not even in Kinloch, or after Ostagar or in Haven. It's shock that does it, right?"
"…kinda." she muttered, pouted and was pointedly not looking him in the eyes.
"Are you telling me, that seeing me, is a bigger shock than whatever horrors you have already experienced, Talia?" her mother asked, not a small bit of her voice laced with something close to either regret or genuine worry; "I didn't realize you were thát averse to seeing me again."
"I'm not! I'm not, I just…I was shocked. Like, no one told me you were here and I thought…" gods, how was this supposed to be how family spoke? They were about as socially stunted with each other as could be! "…I thought, with the letter, you meant…I mean, I just…I didn't want anyone else here."
"You received my letter?" mother asked quietly, her hands gathered and fingers laced; "I was…not sure you would."
Talia wasn't of a mind to reveal just how hard the letter had hit her. If she told her mother now that she'd nearly dissolved over a piece of parchment like that, there would be all sorts of implications she didn't want to consider.
"How did you send it, if…I can ask?" Aedan spoke up when it was clear for all to see that Talia would remain silent. She just didn't know what to say that wouldn't either be a lie or a poorly veiled attempt at changing subjects. Also her head still retained some swimming, which might be why the ceiling looked like it was dancing; "I mean, did you teleport it or…I don't know."
"Physical Temporal Apparition, by most referred to as the Petea-spell."
"…didn't know our family could do that…" Talia groaned, not bothering to look away from the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, even if it wouldn't stop dancing; "…can our family do that?"
"No, daughter. No one in our family can do that, not me nor your father." Mother explained, then turned to Aedan, who seemed more and more confused; "the Petea-spell does not require as much power as it does dedication. It allows the caster to project himself across any distance instantaneously, for a short period of time. It is usually recognized by a great rift in the air before the caster, acting like a mirror through which the Apparition can be guided. Talia's father and I asked for the aid of Magister Jeanette Belfield, one of the sitting members of the Council of Magisters, of which my husband is Archmagister and current leader."
"So High Rock is governed by Magisters?" apparently Aedan had picked up on that one, though Talia wasn't surprised in the least. Now that his most immediate concern - her, and that was actually pretty heartwarming - was dealt with, his curiosity towards the culture of her homeland was sparked.
"In a sense, yes, you could say that." Mother nodded, having seemingly caught on as well. There was a tone of quiet approval to her words, as if she had wanted to find out eventually whether Aedan really was as open-minded as she had been told - by Lady Eleanor, no doubt; "Though they do not hold legislative power because of their membership, but rather, membership because of their power."
"Only the most powerful mages, Magisters and such are allowed seats." Talia supplied, earning herself a nod from her mother.
"Decisions taken by the Council also does not directly affect how the five kingdoms of High Rock are governed. Rather, they deal with matters related to the arcane, directly and indirectly both."
"Like the College of Enchanters?" Aedan suggested, catching Talia off-guard. She didn't know what that was, but it sounded like it was important, and she decided to let him know of her curiosity by dumping her head on his shoulder and rubbing her forehead against his cheek. He didn't seem to get the message, because his hand instead just went up and started trailing through her hair - which was absurdly pleasant, no mistake there, but not what she had been aiming for.
"Your mother mentioned that organization, yes." Mother replied, and Talia tried to see if she could turn her eyeballs enough that she could see her mother without moving her head out of Aedan's caressing touches. Mara's tits, it was like getting electrified in all the right ways; "It is not a bad analogy, considering this land's view on magic, though not entirely proper either. From what Eleanor could tell me, the College of Enchanters lack real power, as their decisions have to be approved by the Chantry itself before implementation can even be considered."
"I can't imagine the Chantry would be fond of something like that…" he muttered, briefly pausing his fingers through her hair. When Talia started - gently - biting him on the neck, he blushed a furious shade of red and quickly resumed his work, much to the clear amusement of the Dunmer; "I- I mean, they wouldn't like it if they found out, so…I mean, I don't mean to tell you what you can't do, I…that came out wrong…"
"I know what you mean to say, Aedan." Her mother assured him; "Speaking of the Chantry, a few days ago I had a rather enlightening talk with a Sister of Redcliffe's Chantry. Sister Giselle, her name was, I believe."
Talia perked up on that, feeling a twinge of worry in her gut.
"Imagine, she actually recognized my name." her mother let that one hang in the air for a few seconds before continuing; "Well, not my name, naturally, but the name Aulus."
Oh. Well, that was probably not a good thing.
"…Sister Giselle, you said?" Talia muttered, finding that her current position made gulping uncomfortable; "You…talked to her?"
"Oh Child, you really must stop thinking the worst of everyone you encounter on your travels…well, Howe excluded, obviously…" her mother cooed, gently brushing stray hairs from Talia's forehead. She didn't stop Aedan from continuing what he was doing, which Talia at least could appreciate; "I explained your circumstances, though she was far more curious than angered at your…shall we say, 'lies' of omission?"
"I…technically did tell her I was from Bankorai."
"Which only added to her curiosity, I should mention." Her mother mused, gently touching Talia's cheek with her ungloved hand. It was just another small gesture of maternal affection, but it was so long since she had last experienced it that Talia had to repress a shiver of delight; "I would suggest a conversation with her, at your choice, of course. You're too old for me to arrange playdates anymore…"
"…hah…."
"Still, we have a few days for that, at least…" Rhea sighed, retrieving her hand; "Arl Eamon's plan was to call the Landsmeet as soon as you returned from Orzammar with the Dwarves in place. That means at least a week for the message to get around Ferelden, and then we leave for Denerim."
"We?" Talia almost smacked Aedan on the jaw as she flipped herself into an upright sitting, staring at her mother with eyes widened in disbelief and suspicion; "You're not-"
"-accompanying you to the very city currently being held by the two men on this continent with the strongest interest at murdering the two of you?" there was not a shred of humor in the woman's chuckle. Rather, it was deep, dark and sinister; "Oh, Talia, daughter dearest, you couldn't stop me from going even if you tried."
"I can try hard these days." Talia growled at her mother. Dear gods, let her not have to worry about her mother in the capital. Not for her mother's sake, but because she feared the city wouldn't be left standing.
"As can I." her other replied, her voice leaving no room for argument; "I have no intentions of leaving you exposed to back-stabbing and treason. I did not cross an ocean just to leave my daughter dangling to the hounds like a piece of meat."
"That's…one way of putting it…" Aedan muttered, evidently uncertain of whether or not he had the right to speak up. Honestly, Talia kinda wished he'd tell her mother to shut it, because if her mother went to Denerim, bad things could happen to her. And the city…mostly the city; "But, I'd be there with her, we all would, will, I mean."
"I know." Her mother smiled at Aedan, though she couldn't tell if the smile was genuine or forced; "Nevertheless, I am accompanying you, and that is final. Now…we do have a few days before preparations need be made for our departure. Until then, I would much enjoy some cultural exchange with this village, as well as spending some time with people, the two of you in particular."
"I…" for a moment, it was as if Aedan was about to reject or otherwise protest her mother's plans, but then deflated as he no doubt felt the same imposing aura people usually associated with Rhea Aulus. She wasn't a woman you just rejected; "Right, there's a festival coming up in a few days, Harvestmere."
Her mother smiled, a genuine smile of appreciation, and stood.
"I look forward to it."
As it turned out, the preparations for Harvestmere were far more expansive than any of the Tamrielans had anticipated. Not only did it entice the participation of the entire village, but the stands spread from the central square and all the way past the reconstructed inn.
It took the village, as well as the volunteering mercenaries two more days before the festival was prepared and ready to be kicked in. The harvest, comparatively meager though it turned out, was brought in. A stake was raised in the middle of the square, colored ribbons draped from it. The children of the village occupied the curious contraption from the moment it was arranged, running in circles for reasons Talia could not entirely understand.
Then again, much as she liked children, she rarely understood them at all.
Dried fish were hung and grilled with pepper and onions, apples were baked and put on spits over embers, more than a few pigs were slaughtered and skewed over the fires. Wines were brought forth, both from cellars and traders that had accompanied the sellswords from Orlais, as well as kegs of ale being prepared for extreme drinking and all in all, Redcliffe smelled better than it ever had, of food, alcohol and a deceptively good mood.
Talia watched all this from the ridge above the village proper, dangling her legs over the edge of the steep hill. The festives didn't really have an official start, as such, and it seemed more like people just eventually turned up and started having fun. She was sucking on one of those apples coated in turnip-sugar, and dear gods, it was probably unhealthy and bad for her teeth, but it was delicious.
That Aedan had gotten it for her only increased her enjoyment a tiny little bit. Gotten, notably, and not bought, as Grey Wardens weren't actually paid. That had been something of a shocker when she'd inquired to Alistair about it.
"What do you mean 'salary'?" he frowned at her, apparently not having expected the question. Talia hesitated, unsure of how to respond to that. She'd seen the stands with coated apples and had wanted one, then realized she was actually pretty broke. As in, she had not a single coin that would be accepted in Ferelden. She still carried her little pouch of Septims, but out of nostalgia more than practicality, really; "Wait, you thought we got paid for this?"
"W-what?"
"Talia…" Alistair looked at her with that serious expression he seemed to wear almost around the clock these days. She actually missed the Alistair that would crack inappropriate jokes and fail to take anything seriously; "Grey Wardens ordinarily are given a certain monetary stipendium by the ruling family of their resident nation, however, seeing as the crown is currently occupied by Loghain and that Howe…"
"…fuck, that means we're broke?"
"Yeah, pretty much… " he shrugged, though a small, wry smile was allowed to escape; "So far it's not really been a problem. Redcliffe owes us a lot, Arl Eamon included, so our expenses here are covered, those we have. Add to that that Daveth actually loots everything not stitched to the bodies we come across and sells it later…"
"Wait, Daveth's looting corpses?" she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Alistair's shrug was all the response she got from that; "You know what…fine, I'll just make Aedan entertain me. About bloody time he commenced the courting anyway…"
Now, she very much felt pleased with herself for that idea. Sitting in the sun, smelling the wafting scents from the cooking fires, spits and fires down below, it all felt very much like the well-earned break they all deserved.
"You wouldn't think a Blight is going on, that the world around them is ending…" Leliana mused from beside her, her fellow redhead having found herself without much to do. Though Talia knew it wasn't for a lack of trying; "But I suppose life must go on, no? We cannot let fear rule the way we live, else the Darkspawn might as well have won."
"…Yeah…I guess." Talia hummed, taking a bite of her treat. It was almost borderline too sweet, but still good; "So, speaking of not letting fear rule our lives, how's things going for you and the Wood-grabber?"
"Y-you…must you refer to Alistair like that?" Leliana's cheeks matched her hair. Oh, there was much enjoyment to be had from that nickname, especially because J'zargo was now referring to Alistair as such, to his face; "I brings to mind…lewd thoughts…and images."
Images that were, honestly, probably not all thát unwelcome. For Leliana. Talia wanted none of it.
To be fair though, their illustrious leader had made something of a showing when he'd participated in a contest of staff-fighting with some of the foreigner sellswords. They were, as she understood it, something akin to Orlesian Chevaliers and assorted other kinds of knights, only working in mercenary bands instead of their armed forces. The whole thing was done in thick padding, and the men had been moving at each other like bipedal bears, slowly and with extreme amounts of caution.
They were, after all, trying not to permanently degrade the efficiency of their own allies. And Alistair had won three rounds before one of the Rivani sellswords had knocked him on his ass with a kind of speed he simply couldn't match or defend against.
Still, when it turned out that the man was the White Viper of Rivain, the sting of defeat seemed to lessen somewhat. Their leader had still been beaten blue and green, but it'd taken the leader of the Rivani sellswords to do it.
There was a sense of pride in that, she believed. Or, maybe not. Men had odd priorities when it came down to it. Defeats could be glorious or not, depending more on their opponent than themselves.
"Oh, as if you didn't have those already." Talia grinned at the bard, feeling the sugary coating of her apple begin sticking to her lips. Bugger, and Aedan was immediately around for a lip-cleaning. It at least spoke of Leliana's skills at acting that she could repress the second bout of blushing; "I really don't get the two of you…"
"W- I'm sorry?" Leliana blinked. Talia sighed. At this point, she wasn't sure which couple was more agonizing to look at; Leliana and Alistair, or Brelyna and Ser Gilmore. Both seemed to constantly dance around each other's feelings, despite it being painfully clear to everyone around them what was going on.
"I mean, Alistair I sort of get, he's been raised in the kennels first and then the Chantry, so he'd be predisposed to being…well, shy…" the skies were clear, and the cold autumn sun was doing its best to cast at least an illusion of warmth at them. It wasn't doing much, but at least there was no wind, so the temperature was tolerable; "You, on the other hand…I mean, you've even mentioned using sex as a way to do your job, and the whole thing with that mentor of yours…Marjolan?"
"…Marjolaine, yes…" Leliana's voice was bereft of emotion, and her face plastered with a smile, but Talia hadn't spent the better part of her life amongst stuffy, self-serving nobility without picking up when people said one thing but meant another; "I just don't think Alistair is…ready, for such a step. He might grow too fretful were I to make an advance."
"Pretty sure he'd jump you. I mean, I would…" The mage shrugged, running her tongue over the glistering surface of the apple. There were days where being bisexual wasn't a boon, and there were days where it was. Being able to compliment the sex appeal of another woman based on actual, physical attraction, was one of the latter; "That said, I think he just needs some coaxing. I mean, Aedan's running around in full plate, and he's absolutely rippling. Alistair trained to become a Templar, which I'm guessing also involves heavy armor, so he's probably even better off. Honestly, just sneak into his room or, I dunno, ask him to dance. Anything to show you're interested, because let me tell you, all that sexual tension between the two of you is really killing the mood."
"Perhaps…" the bard sighed, looking over the festival. Right now, Talia really wanted to be down there, especially because they were starting to open up the casks, and she'd hoped for first dips. Literally. Instead, she felt as if there was something more her fellow redhead wanted to say, and as such she remained out of simple respect and companionship.
Considering their first meeting, that in itself was noteworthy. She'd gone from distrusting and disliking Leliana to now considering her one of her closest friends.
The world was weird, indeed.
"It has been a long time since last I could just…sit. And breathe." Leliana muttered, hugging her knees against her chest; "And since I've felt…at ease, with others."
"Try being a mage then." Talia huffed, though not dismissively; "You mean you feel better around us than you did in the Chantry?"
"…in a way." Her fellow redhead muttered, slowly getting to her feet; "Come, let us go partake in the festives, lets someone notices our absence."
"Fat chance, considering Wynne's probably drinking half the village under the table right now, and Cíada and Cullen wouldn't surprise anyone by taking a long walk by the lake, if you know what I mean. Aedan's been shanghaied by my mom, again, just to top it off…" she nevertheless mirrored Leliana in standing, rubbing her damp rear. The sun might bring some heat, but the soul was cold and stole warmth; "…Alright, I'm going to aim for one of those spitted pigs, then I'm drinking one of those Chantry Sisters so deep into the ditch that she'll proclaim me Andraste's chosen."
"I think that would be heresy."
"Hey, if they can drink…" Talia shrugged, starting off down the trail. Leliana leveled a flat stare at her; "Right, right, so maybe just proclaim me the new Divine or something. That heresy too?"
"Maker, it is good the Revered Mother can't hear you."
"She's probably trying to drink Wynne under the table right now, all things considered…" Talia grinned, rolling her shoulders as she hefted her glaive back in its straps on her back. Mother said it was something between a Volgue and a Glaive, but personally she preferred the latter. There was more power to the name, somehow; "Speaking of which…"
"You mean to drink yourself silly so soon?" Leliana asked, tilting her head; "And here I thought Brelyna was exaggerating when she spoke of your…tendency towards beverages. She was not, I take it?"
"Oh, I'm definitely going to drink myself stupid later on." The clap she gave her fellow redhead was received with something of a mixed expression; "However, before any of that, there's a certain snake I want to beat blue and bruised."
"A snake?" Leliana inquired, frowning before her cute little brows rose; "Ah, you refer to Ser Viper, no?"
"The one and only." Talia grinned, clapping the upper part of her own weapon for emphasis; "I'm not letting him just get away with beating that Alistair-ass."
"Talia, I never would have thought you would avenge Alistair's defeat." The bard practically glowed. Talia pointedly sidestepped, just outside of Leliana's reach. Just in case; "You truly do care about him!"
"Wh- Oh. Right, yeah…totally." There was nothing to be lost at letting her maintain that idea. Talia respected Alistair, and yes, she might actually care about him on a non-professional level. Anything else was somewhat difficult when spending half a year together. However, that was not why she was doing this; "He humiliated our glorious leader, and as such the Grey Wardens as a whole. I aim to at the very least send him to the healers with some of that confidence of his shattered."
"I will be there, this I do not wish to miss out on!"
"Yeah…now we just have to find the bloody albino…"
As it turned out, the Rivani Viper was not very hard to find. In particular because he hadn't actually left the sparing ring set up near the docks, though he seemed to have taken something of a breather from the fighting. Probably a good thing too, if Talia had to judge from the amount of peasants, villagers, soldiers and sellswords nursing varying degrees of bruises and wounds around them.
A small voice in the back of her mind was asking the question whether or not this was a good idea.
Still, she was here now, and she was not going to let a human, an ordinary human beat her, nor would she let his handiwork scare her off. She'd butchered scores of Darkspawn as if they were sheep at the slaughter, this would be nothing. Hopefully.
"Oy, Tali, you're fancying a go?" Daveth hollered from where he sat, bare-chested, a sheen of fresh sweat covering his skin and fresh bruises, and surrounded by a few Chantry Sisters, all of them doting and fawning over his scars like they'd never seen a wounded man before.
Their master archer didn't seem to mind the attention.
"With the Viper, yes. Gotta beat some respect for the Wardens back into his gray-haired mug." She nodded, grinning at the way those clergywomen seemed more than a little intoxicated, and…well, lacking restraints. Were she a man, Talia would probably have been furious with rage and jealousy at how much female attention he was getting. As it stood, she could only shake her head at the scene.
Daveth merely gestured behind her, before refocusing his attention back at his 'caretakers'. To be fair, with the world ending around them, it was not all thát strange that even the supposedly pure Sisters of the Chantry were desperate to at least live a little before the Blight took them.
Looking back, Talia found the Rivani observing her, though it was only now that she was close that she realized he not only was an albino, he was also fairly old. His eyes, however, were somewhat unsettling.
She wasn't sure if yellow eyes were a common trait with people from Rivain, but it did not look normal.
"You're looking for me, Warden?" his voice was gruff, harsh and lacking patience. Arms crossed before a chest armored with splintmail and a beard far too white for his apparent age, the Viper gave off an air that was the archetype of an antisocial sellsword. Yet, he'd formed and led the Vipers of Rivain, so he had to have some social skills.
"Warden Talia Aulus." She introduced herself. It was only polite, considering she was going to beat him blue and green.
"I know who you are." He replied sourly; "I also know you won't look half as pretty with that face of yours bruised up like your commander's."
"…you really don't do the whole 'courtesy' thing, do you?" Talia bit out, feeling herself getting increasingly irritated with this so-called 'Viper'. The look in his eyes screamed 'Wolf', and there was something distinctly inhuman about him; "As in, introducing yourself before I beat the shit out of you for disrespecting the Order?"
He grinned at that. It wasn't a pleasant grin, and struck her as predatory more than anything. Talia repressed the urge to shudder; they were in public, with bright daylight and cheerful voices all around, and yet she felt…cold. Almost threatened by this single man, more so than when facing Darkspawn. Who in the fuck is he?
"Calls himself the Viper, yet more wolf than man is he…" Hakkon's quiet snarl nearly caused her to flinch. Even now, she was still not accustomed to his sudden interjections. Frankly, there was no real way of getting accustomed to a potentially malevolent draconic entity speaking his mind through yours, yet she was supposed to just deal with it; "His blood is defiled and impure, sick and diseased with power…It is potent and putrid in the air."
"Geraldo Lopez de la Afsaana, at your service, though not your mercy, Warden." His mockery of a bow only served to further entice Talia into beating him broken. Working for Redcliffe or not, he was starting to seriously grate on her nerves, and she felt like she deserved at least a modicum of respect, all things considered. She huffed, focusing inwards. You don't like him either, then?
"He carries the scent of magic older than should be, older than I…Have caution."
"…That's not at all extremely ominous." She really wanted to sigh, because it was just her luck that this man was somehow an even more dangerous individual than herself, which, all things considered, was something of a stretch. It took a good deal of power to top what she could do, yet Hakkon seemed…apprehensive, almost?
This might just get interesting.
With her luck though, it was far more likely to simply become a massive pain in the ass.
In order to defend the relative short-ness of this chapter, I have had a massive work-load all Easter, and I wanted to at least get a single chapter out before the "break" came to an end.
As a result of that, I am doing this after Easter-dinner, meal, whatever you want to call it, and I might be somewhat...intoxicated. So, if I missed huge grammatical errors or contradict myself in this one...Yeah, feel free to tear me a new one, served right for working drunk.
That aside, I do appologize for the cliff-hanger, if one can call it that, but there's a ton of stuff I need to confer with my Archivist on before even considering the events of the next chapter for Redcliffe, and I need to do a lot of research on the Republic of Novgorod for the sake of the Anderfels. So that might put me somewhat out of commission for just a wee while.
And damn...you know what happened in the last chapter? Previous chapter, that is?
The amount of Reviews actually surpassed the k+ word-count!
That...that's honestly never happened to me before.
So yeah, like...damn...Thanks! Seriously, if there's one thing that gets me in the working mood, it's seeing thát kind of attention. Screw k+ reviews, I am on fucking cat-nip when I see something like this! Seriously, I was tripping balls, and I don't even know what that means!
Oh, and ISIS attacked Brussels, so...I hope they all get rear-mounted by a Minotaur...
Right...So, I'm guessing this is where I sign off, and frankly right now I'm just ranting partly to increase the word-count of the chapter, which I do realise is not exactly a very mature thing to do, but I know the joy of seeing a long chapter in the update-mail, so it's sort of like an extra present that turned out to be socks?
So...as usual, I guess leave me all your love, devototion, tributes, sacrificial lamps, lambs, virgins, grain, ect...Reviews, too, I guess, if you don't have the other stuff?
IT'S 2016 PEOPLE! LET'S SACRIFICE SOME LAMPS!
Talia: "...you really need to stay away from the booze. Dear fucks, you're pathetic..."
...says the girl who got a mental fuck-flip at seeing her own mother?
Talia: "You fucking decided on slapping me with a mental disorder like, on the spot! That shit wasn't even in the script!"
Neither was Gilmore surviving, but I don't hear you complaining over thát.
Talia: "...You're lucky I need you to keep writing to stay alive, or I'd fucking castrate you..."
...We have people listening, Talia, please no death-threats or aforementioned mutilations?
Talia: "Meh...Happy Easter Folks, because apparently you lot are in spring now. Rhodry, please tell Roku to get his ass in gears, will you? Otherwise it'll be another six months to the Lansmeet."
...don't...don't fucking give him ideas. Like, even puns. Don't. My sanity is damaged enough as it is...
