I considered, [ he exhales, glad now that adalia is not here, the annoyance of finding his own space to speak openly unnecessary. ] taking us all into the forest. Making do, teaching those who have never lived like that. But the cost of diverting the attention of the Inquisition was too high. Corypheus must fall.
Here is what I know: Corypheus, if you go to him, will not offer you better terms. The Chantry and the Templars are Men; they will eb and flow and forget and die. I am sorry I could not block everything they proposed. I am glad I fought to keep invasive examination and the ilk off the table. If you compare me to the butchers of your world because I could not block everything and win us concessions too, I would point out that I am not the sort of creature who can make something from nothing.
They'd die. [No malice in her to say it, only the blunt assessment of one who lives her life that way.] They'd die because half of them are fucking idiots who can't find their arse with both hands and a map. You can teach them, you can't make them understand the lesson and live it, but you might have had the blessing of this Chantry if you'd culled half of them in the trying.
I never took the World-Eater's side. I was his bane. Am it. Time is-- well it has three faces now isn't for that but the World-Eater is dead by my hand, I don't run from that even when it's meant sitting at the table with people who blame me for every ill when I am the ill-favoured cousin. [Bosmer, Dunmer, Altmer, all three of them unhappily related by turns, she could get into it. Could tell him what it is but there's only elf hissed as knife-ear is. Her blamed for the Thalmor who took from her, who take, that it lands as a blow each and every time, that there is never any hardening herself to it no matter how she might try.] They will make a phylactery for me in time. They will have a list of what I am able to do. I will be a sum of my parts. Status. Description. Background. Operational Notes. They are not butchers they are-- I can't. I can't now. We invade ourselves, how easy will it be to add more surveys?
[Her voice cracks. It is breaking her to speak of it without the Thu'um roaring out of her too.]
no subject
Here is what I know: Corypheus, if you go to him, will not offer you better terms. The Chantry and the Templars are Men; they will eb and flow and forget and die. I am sorry I could not block everything they proposed. I am glad I fought to keep invasive examination and the ilk off the table. If you compare me to the butchers of your world because I could not block everything and win us concessions too, I would point out that I am not the sort of creature who can make something from nothing.
no subject
I never took the World-Eater's side. I was his bane. Am it. Time is-- well it has three faces now isn't for that but the World-Eater is dead by my hand, I don't run from that even when it's meant sitting at the table with people who blame me for every ill when I am the ill-favoured cousin. [Bosmer, Dunmer, Altmer, all three of them unhappily related by turns, she could get into it. Could tell him what it is but there's only elf hissed as knife-ear is. Her blamed for the Thalmor who took from her, who take, that it lands as a blow each and every time, that there is never any hardening herself to it no matter how she might try.] They will make a phylactery for me in time. They will have a list of what I am able to do. I will be a sum of my parts. Status. Description. Background. Operational Notes. They are not butchers they are-- I can't. I can't now. We invade ourselves, how easy will it be to add more surveys?
[Her voice cracks. It is breaking her to speak of it without the Thu'um roaring out of her too.]