For all of not liking crazy and never even dreaming about the greatness crazy things bring. It happened with me. All the time since the walk to the temple of sacred ashes to the arriving at the Conclave I felt the goosebumps. Something was really wrong and something bad was going to happen. Even after listening all day to the bickering between mages and Templars as it was supposed to happen, even knowing that this was what was going to happen I got a bad felling about all of that. And I was right. Shit happened, and I don't really know what or when or how. I just know that I woke up tight with a screaming seeker accusing me to kill Justinia. Why on earth I would kill Justinia, only if some crazy blood mage used me, cause I myself had no reason to do so. And to explain this to the crazy screaming women that didn't even let me mourn, just drag me to the place of the destruction passing through accusing eyes as if I was some mass murderer.
And when I think things can't go any crazier , I start felling a scrutinizing pain in the glowing hand. Yeah now I have a green glowing hand as if nothing more could possible go wrong I had to walk back to the temple just to see that everyone there really died, and close a hole in the sky. Not even in my most wild dream or when I used to read about the heroes of old I would desire be one of them. And now here I am with the crazy glowing hand, my uncle dead, with no way possible to just get home drink my tea and wait for the world go shit. At least after the freaking vision no one who's seen it think I killed the divine. I hate, REALLY HATE to be in the spot this way and this accusing eyes.
Dear Mom and Dad, brothers and sister.
I am hereby writing to say that uncle is dead, and the Conclave failed, and for the most unlikely that this would sound I am the hope that the world will not end. I know that Joe's is saying that now for sure we are doomed and I should stop the lying and the drama, and the so called Herald of Andraste that people are so much talking about saying that it is Aline Travalian is the biggest and fattest lie people ever told. Sorry to disappoint brother, but is all true. I don't know how or what happened but a woman made of golden light really got me out of the destroyed conclave and only I was left alive , but not unscarred, now I have a glowing green hand that closes holes in the skies from where fade monsters get out. There is nothing more to say than these and that in face of the dire situation that we find ourselves in I have to stay here with the inquisition. And I would really appreciate that you that show your support to us. We are not heretics aiming to destroy the chantry. You know me , I never aimed to destroy or build anything. If any of you could come here bring some of my belongings and help me establish myself here for the time being would be good as well.
Love
Aline
No more days, just thoughts spread on. I am not a warrior or a rogue or a mage, or anything heroically, if the Maker truly chosen me, he has a terrible sense of humor. I am not what they need, I am mostly a spoil child of a noble. Of course I learned how to fight basics, I am a marcher not Orlesian flower. Although I was never ever good at that. I was to lazy to go for the sword and shield and not fast enough with the daggers and not accurate enough with the bow to be of notice. My instructor back home would say that if I put some effort I could use some short blade or daggers, that I was gracious enough for that. I diplomat a businesswoman a planner all of that I could help the inquisition with, but as a herald travelling to erase evil from the world would not be my thing. Or thing that would be most suitable. And how can I tell them that? It's just so oppressing.
There are some interesting people in this inquisition. What could I write about them? Cassandra was a women that with the same heat that she accused me before, now she forgives me.
Varric, the most famous Dwarf of the Marches was someone that I knew before, but he for certainty didn't know me, how he could know the youngster insignificant Trevelyan from Ostwick ! He who always accompanied the mighty Hawke would never remember someone like I was before.
The elven mage was an extremely odd fellow. All the talk about things that I have remember reading and not caring treating them as fairy tales or things so far that didn't make any sense for me to know more about them. And when he talks about them with such passion just make me fell more and more out of place.
Josephine, an antivan noble that seems to be so nice, that maybe will force my hand to spy on her. Cause I see no point of an elder and head of a noble house to be out in nowhere with heretics helping them with burocratic work. She doesn't seem evil or vicious, but is strange anyway.
Sister Leliana is a riddle, the Left hand of the divine, a companion to the Hero of Ferelden, and a spy master, She is probably reading this notes, and or searching all to info about me. She will be disappointed by finding out that nothing remarkable about me or my skills or my Faith. She will probably rethink the whole chosen by Andraste thing soon enough.
And then there is the Comander, the ex- Knight Captain of Meredith. I remember him, from the times that I was in Kirkwall with uncle on business. He continues astounding handsome even without the Templar armor. And The Ferelden's accent is all I imagined it would be. At the times that we would go to the Gallows to by supplies from the apothecary there, that was the best in the marches by the way, I found myself admiring the men. I even remember uncle's teasing that opposite to the comum sense that I loved dandies and parties and also polite educated men, I crave for an Warrior with callous hands. And here I am working with the handsome warrior, that I would admire from afar. The maker definitively is a evil and crazy bastard, cause I bet he must be laughing at the scene of putting a useless nobody in the middle of such amazing entourage.