The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Haliel Lightsong]

Haliel swallows, trying to push back the feelings of hurt and frustration. "I did not mean to imply that you were... unfaithful to your chosen deity. I just... the way you described Love was... potent. Moving. Regardless of my opinion- and I am sorry, but yes, I do think Astea suits you- I will do my best to support your choice. I'm sorry I made you feel..." She searches for a second, "besieged? I am not of Adamantine, to claim your right to choose as mine. Tell me what I can do to support you and I will try."

[Varric]

Varric considers as Haliel speaks, then nods. "I did get a bit... debate-focused," he admits. "I disagree with your original premise by way of faulty information, but that doesn't mean that Zanon can't also suit.  You're right to call me to task for debating on non-research topics during a study session, that was bad play on my part. Would you be up for religious debates later, once you're more settled and certain, in an agreed time and location?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I-- maybe," she says, slowly, lowering her gaze as her anger fades. "I just want to figure out what my Path looks like -- or the first few steps of it -- for now. Can we focus on that?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one will prepare lunch," says Helene, slipping from nir chair. 

[Varric]

Varric reaches over to give nir arm a squeeze as they leave. "Do you understand why?" he asks Marian softly, nodding after nem. 

[Marian Hawke]

Marian swallows, shaking her head. "I guess.. well, I guess I could never compete with Alydra, that's not a surprise. I just... I didn't think Alydra had issues with the Dark."

[Varric]

"Close. Alydra is the highest priority in nir life, yes, but it's not Alydra that..." Varric taps his fingers on the table a moment. "Helene has trouble with imprecision. Everything has to be orderly, predictable, for nem to feel comfortable. Maybe not predictable exactly but... definable maybe? Helene isn't willing to condone being evil- which is understandable, I think- and has trouble accepting that you can worship a Dark deity without being evil. Keep in mind, this is guesswork. Based on good information, yes, but we haven't discussed this or I wouldn't be willing to share it."

[Marian Hawke]

"Evil's just a word," she says, bitterly, staring at the door Helene left through. "What matters is whether I hurt people or not. And I don't plan to.  I'm not... I'm not Sparky. I can find my own way, without becoming a monster."

[Merrill]

While Marian and the others are having their research party- and fight- Carver finds himself at loose ends. Beth and Shiori are having a date in town, having found a small cafe and making plans to visit a druid with a herd of deer they can pet and play with later. Asking around the Oak, he finally finds a ranger that can point him to where Merrill has been getting her lessons in... in whatever it is she's been learning. Something to do with spirits or something? Magic anyway. Maybe he should ask about that...

The location he's directed to is deep under the Oak, well below where humans or elves would stop digging for basements. It's still shaped wood, so he's still in the massive root complex and thus under Raplin's direct protection however. Making the last turn he was instructed to take, he can hear a deep but feminine voice singing a gentle lullaby in the close-to-elven language that Merrill uses a lot. He can also hear sobbing.

Rushing to the doorway and looking inside, he sees Merrill curled up in the lap of a... female. Woman, perhaps, but it's hard to be sure- does 'woman' apply to non-mortals? Or plants? The being has skin like a willow tree, her hair a flowing mess of tiny white flowers and she's clad in a cloak of soft, green leaves. She's currently running her hands through Merrill's own hair as she rocks and sings to the elf, who is... not sobbing? Then where is... Following Merrill's gaze, Carver spots a third figure. This one half-translucent, it's... horrific. It's an echo of Merrill, but cast in gray-yellow. Nude, but her skin is torn and dripping with ooze, mud or blood. Her skin is tight against her bones, her face a rictus of despair and she's sobbing. Strangely, as he stares, the apparition's hands twist from gnarled claws to merely bone-thin and dirty hands. Merrill sniffles softly, a sad smile forming as she watches this. 

[Carver Amell]

Carver's sword is already out, ready to defend -- "M-merrill?" he stammers, staring between her and the figure, then back again. "What's going on!? Are you h-hurt?"

[Merrill]

All three people turn to face Carver, startled. Merrill looks surprised, then ashamed. The... willow-tree lady's expression is impossible to discern. And the last, the strange ghost-like Merrill... She looks... 

She smiles at him. An honest, glad-to-see-you kind of smile. And then she pops, vanishing into nothing. 

"C-Carver?" Merrill whimpers, eyes wide.

[Carver Amell]

"What's happening, Merrill, do you need-- should I-- are you alright?!"

[NPCs]

"She is heartsick but healing," the willow-lady says in a soft voice. "I think perhaps that today's session is over?"

[Merrill]

Merrill nods, scrambling out of her lap. "I- it's- m-m-my m-m-magic lessssons," she stammers, hands clasped tightly together in front of her and eyes cast down. She looks mortified and vulnerable.

[Carver Amell]

"You're-- lessons? She's not-- this woman isn't hurting you?" Carver confirms, his sword lowering a hair in relief.