#mourn watcher Myrna

[bossuary]

possible Myrna and Audric????

bonus skellingtom:

[feeshies]

Myrna, my goth girlfriend. Might add more to this later, but it's a school night so uhh

Stream The Monad of Creation by Mournful Congregation

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions

The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!

Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.

Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons

Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.

Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.

In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.

Emmrich Volkahrin

Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.

Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.

Lucanis Dellamorte

Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.

I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”

Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.

Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.

The Veil Jumpers

The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.

The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.

The Lords of Fortune

Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.

[galedekarios]

down among the dead men

i finally finished reading sylvia feketekuty's short story in tevinter nights. sylvia feketekuty is also emmrich's writer in dragon age: the veilguard.

i wanted to compile what we learn about emmrich in sylvia's short story.

emmrich likes tea

"What happened then?" the older mage tilted a pot of tea encouragingly toward Audric.

his study is described in detail

Audric shook his head--he didn't feel like tea, particularly--while his eyes soaked in the room. He'd never been in a necromancer's study before. Ornately decorated skulls hung from hooks in the high, dark ceiling. One wall was made up of shelves with books and tiny labeled drawers. The other was fronted by tables full of bubbling flasks, scales, alembics, and tortured-looking glass. A smartly attired servant ground away with a pestle and mortar.

"Excellent question!" Emmrich swirled the tea in his mug, looking entirely too cheerful, Audric thought, for a man framed by so many racks of skulls.

the description of his study in down among the dead men is very, very reminiscent of his room in the lighthouse that bioware revealed a few days ago:

emmrich may have recreated the comforts of his study in nevarra within the lighthouse.

emmrich lets manfred mix tinctures

"Please, don't mind Manfred." The older mage refilled his own cup. "He'll finish mixing that tincture before you know it." Manfred, a clean-boned skeleton, held up a bowl. Audric read something helpful in the cant of its skull. The younger mage looked critical. "It needs half a cup more elfroot." The corpse pulled out one of the drawers on the side of the room, took out a withered root, and shook it inquiringly. "The royal elfroot, please." Manfred moaned and fumbled at more drawers.

emmrich compliments manfred's successes and is proud of him

"Yes! That's the one." The older mage beamed. "Very good indeed, Manfred!"

emmrich's appearance is described as well by audric

Audric dragged his gaze to the older Watcher across from him, with his silvered hair, tidy mustache, and long face full of concern. His expression reminded Audric of the Chantry scholars when they'd caught him reading by candlelight in the library. The good brothers and sisters had kindly tried to dissuade Audric from living in pages for so long he couldn't think straight in the morning.

i think they a phenomenal job bringing emmrich to life (no pun intended).

emmrich is quite informal, cares about putting someone else at ease, he treats audric as he would a living person, never forcing him to arrive at a conclusion or pressuring him

"Is there anything else you can recall about Lord Karn's funeral?" the mage asked gently. "No? I think... not much, sir. Another guard, she, well... Dellah even had to peel him off me, sir." The necromancer waved a hand. "Emmrich will do, please."

macabre sense of humour

"It's... sorry, it's a blur of screams, sir." "Some of it your own, I'd bet," the necromancer joked, but looked so sympathetic Audric relaxed by a degree.

he is indeed a professor/very scholarly

"Myra picked up the curved rib bone. One end was jagged from where Audric's boot had connected with Karn's rib cage. She handed it to Emmrich. "Excellent. Emmrich? This is your remit." "I'll have it ready before sunset." He sighed. "It would be faster if we'd managed to replace the librarian by now. The students have naturally left the books a mess."

this all fits so well with the blurb we were given about him not so long:

"Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies and his interest in the mysteries of the fade."

don't leave the books in disorder, please.

emmrich is renowned to be good at what he does by other mourn watchers

"Myrna seemed content to leave things there, and took something out of a velvet purse. A rib bone. "Emmrich's prepared your trophy for us. His cathexis is very reliable." Audric felt the ground tilt downslope. "Madam?" "His magic." She tapped the rib bone. "This will now guide us to where Lord Karn's fled. Emmrich would join us, but he's been called to other matters."

i had to look up what cathexis means exactly and it's defined as follows:

In psychoanalysis, cathexis (or emotional investment) is defined as the process of allocation of mental or emotional energy to a person, object, or idea. [...] Cathexis comes to us by way of New Latin from the Greek word kathexis, meaning "holding."

myrna uses a skeleton to send a message to emmrich, presumably he might employ similar methods of communication if available

"Good." Myrna sent a mote of light into a nook in the wall. A moment later, a skeleton fell out, hissing and snapping. Myrna snagged it with a collar of green fire, tugged it like a leash. "Does that... hurt it?" Audric asked, more sympathetic to the shambling thing than he'd been a minute ago. "The sensations differ. With some of the dead, one must exert direct control." The skeleton subsided, making a strange whine. "A message," the Mourn Watcher told it. "Find Professor Emmrich Volkahrin. Tell him after some last business in the Winged Halls, we'll be joining him above without delay."

this description reminded me a bit of the brief glimpses we got of emmrich in the very first companion trailer:

emmrich appreciates punctuality & holding oneself to prior commitments

"You heard my message to Emmrich." She crooked a finger, gesturing to Audric. "We'll be expected. It won't be difficult to return from here. Audric looked around. "I can... I'm allowed to come back with you?" "Of course. Myrna lifted her skirts and stepped over a chunk of stone from the fight. "Emmrich will be put out if we don't show up for tea."

emmrich is incredibly kind when dealing with spirits and undead, no matter their rank or standing in life

"They were back in Emmrich's den. Audric had been astonished to see familiar tomes in a neat stack on the necromaner's desk. "Those... are those...?" "Yours, yes. From your home." Emmrich shook his head. "Forgive the liberty, guardsman. After you and Myrna left for the Necropolis, I had to search for a reason you might have returned so unexpectedly." "I believe we found it," Mysrna said, from where she was overseeing Emmrich's manservant transfer the contents of a bubbling beaker into a bowl. Emmrich handed the top book to Audric. It was a gazetteer of Nevarra City, stamped with a crowned skull surrounded by flowers. Audric flipped it open and read the blocky inscription. To our Son with Love. May you be Blessed in your Studied with the Chantry. "All this effort... for me? I'm just a guardsman, sir." Am? Was? Audric pushed doubt aside and held the gazetteer to his chest. He existed, knew what he loved, and that he had been loved, and that seemed enough in the moment. "The great leveler has no favourites." Emmrich smiled. "Neither does the Mourn Watch."

i found this reaction to myrna and audric quite interesting, and i'm not completely sure what to make of it yet:

"You are faced with a choice," Myrna said, coming over. "You have confronted your killer, and recognised your driving passion. You may rest now, guardsman." "Or?" "Or you may work under the auspices of a Watcher," Myrna said. "Under a modicum of magical control. To avoid anomie, the bond must be given freely." "To you, madam?" "If it's satisfactory." The guardsman ducked his head, and because that felt inadequate, knelt on a knee and held out a hand. Myrna, smiling slightly, took it. Emmrich coughed, looking away. "Please, let the poor fellow up. What position were you thinking?" "I thought it was obvious." Audric felt a slow excitement as he heard Myrna say: "We have a great need for someone to take charge of the library."

overall, i really liked this short story.

i loved how audric wasn't aware that he is, in fact, dead and has died a while ago. i loved how both emmrich and myrna didn't correct his assumption, but led him to the realisation. i love all the little insights we got into emmrich as a character, but also nevarra's culture, necromancy and the mourn watch.

it's definitely one of the best in the book. 🖤

[thedinanshiral]

Today is a fine day as any to rise the dead, but first we need to spell something out. We don't know enough about this intriguing necromancer from Nevarra so this one should be shorter.

So far we only have a couple of source materials, the story "Down among dead men" from Tevinter Nights, and the short story The Flame Eternal. And there's already some minor discrepancy between them. Emmrich's last name is Volkahrin in Tevinter Nights and Volkarin in The Flame Eternal. His short profile on the Dragon Age The Veilguard site only calls him by his first name, so until more information is revealed and the correct spelling of his name officially confirmed i'll use the original spelling, the first we got from Tevinter Nights.

Meet Emmrich Volkahrin, a Mortalitasi from Nevarra, member of the Mourn Watch, a seemingly delightful gentleman, described in his short profile as a well-meaning scholar.

Nevarra is a kingdom at the center of Thedas, south of Tevinter and north of the Waking Sea, famous mainly for two things: their unmatched tradition in dragon hunting and their reverence for the dead around which they've built much of their culture. While in most of the Andrastian lands the dead are cremated to avoid possession of the corpses by the spirits that may be drawn to cross the Veil by the array of emotions that usually follow death, Nevarrans do not; quite the contrary, they've built a Grand Necropolis across the ages where their dead are put to rest. Except not all the dead like to be put to rest so some may rise on occassion and wander about a bit. Most mages in Nevarra if not all are Mortalitasi, necromancers, and among them a special group called the Mourn Watch are in charge of taking care of the dead things that won't stay dead enough. They deal with possessions, early possessions, a number of oddities that arise in the deeper levels of the Necropolis, gathering information by making the dead speak again, and gods know what else. Their perception of the dead is different from anything we've seen in Thedas so far. It seems is common for them to even make use of those no longer living, and skeletal assistants or servants are a common sight near Mortalitasi mages.

So far we've learned of very few Nevarran Mortalitasi, and they all seem to be rather.. dry. Emmrich is the first one so far with a certain charm. He enjoys a nice cup of tea, has a skeleton assistant called Manfred, and he very naturally expresses a sincere excitement when knowledge is involved, be it when others express their curiosity or when there's a chance to learn something new. He's not just a necromancer on the clock, he's also a dedicated scholar. In The Flame Eternal he says to a fellow necromancer who's only interested in getting the job done quickly:

“What sort of passion drives one spirit above the rest? What tangle of thoughts and heart returned this soul?”.

He's not just doing a job, he's interested in understanding the motivations behind it, what drives the dead to act past their time. In Down among dead men his role is a small one, the story is actually about a guardsman name Audric Felhausen who after an attack by a possessed corpse during its funerary rites is sent to accompany a Watcher -Myrna, of the Mourn Watch- down into the Grand Necropolis to catch the running dead man, only to soon learn he's not quite alive himself anymore and the intrusive thoughts and memories of his love for books and architecture were indicative of his own new nature. Once the issue with the Pride-possessed deceassed noble is resolved they returned to Emmrich and decided Audric, who's still clinging to the world of the living for his love of books, takes a position at the Library.

In The Flame Eternal, we're introduced to a younger Emmrich Volkahrin, who alongside fellow necromancer Johanna Hezenkoss, was tasked to resolve the issue of a screaming skull. It turned out the wife of the decesased had recently passed and even in death the love endured and the skull simply wanted to rest by his beloved. When Johanna complains all the fuss the skull did was just for his dead wife, Emmrich responds “Oh, I don’t know (...) It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection."

In the few lines from him we've gotten so far i think he comes across as a kind and charming man, even if maybe a bit odd considering his line of work and how calm he seems about it. Seems he respects the dead too and doesn't just see them as mere tools.

Design wise, he's also very interesting. If he looks like Vincent Price, chances are it's intentional, but it hasn't been confirmed beyond casual mentions from one or two devs who've made that reference. We don't have a specific age for him but one can be estimated, as in the beginning of The Flame Eternal we're told those events occurred thirty years ago in 9:22 Dragon. Inquisition takes place in 9:42, Trespasser events happen in 9:44, and ten years after that we have The Veilguard, so curently they're in 9:54. Knowing this short story was published in 2021, it adds up that in Thedas it was 9:52, and if we presume Emmrich must have been at the very least 20 years old the youngest he could be is about 52. He could be even older, he certainly looks like he could be in his 60s already.

In his companion tarot card we see him in better detail. The skeleton up front may be Manfred, his assistant, and i find the little skeletons on the side the cutest things ever, like tiny puppets. I think that's the idea behind this card, actually, the necromancer rising the dead, his magic as the strings of the puppeteer that will decide how the puppet moves.

Many were suspicious of his right hand from the party's teased picture, because it looks off, red and just generally weird but as seen on his tarot card, that's actually a glove. That he wears rings over the glove must be a personal choice. And that's an interesting one if we look at his left hand and arm. More rings and bangles to last a lifetime. Is it just his style, or does all that jewelry serve a more specific purpose than adding to his looks? Maybe it's all enchanted, one certainly needs protection when dealing with the other side. Guess we'll know in the future.

We don't really know much else about him. Gameplay wise the reveal trailer gave us nothing, he's barely a little guy in the distance during the fight scene..

Yeah, that's Emmrich, chased down by the red lyrium darkswpan. No staff, no green necromancer sparks, no idea of what he might be like in combat yet.

In another piece of official art we see him alongside Manfred and i think Emmrich looks rather confident when facing the enemy here.

I suspect he's the confident and charming scholar type to whom said qualities occur so naturally he is not entirely aware of it or of the effect he has on those around him. Of course as a sholar and a necromancer he surely has a certain aura of that may be offputting to some as well. What little was hinted of him as a companion was in relation to his romance, a dev described it as "intimate and sensual".

Hopefully we'll get more details in the upcoming days. I'm curious to know more about all the new companions but him, specifically, i'm more curious about.

[a-lyoshka]

my headcanon that this conversation happened some time after Emmrich joined to Veilguards and Myrna asked him to take care of their chaotic mourn watcher

[mythrender]

Just scrubbing through the hi-res launch trailer for Mourn Watch appearances and making notes for fanart purposes. Finally, a new shot of the Necropolis! Hexagon and green veilfire lighting central.

Love the stylisation of Manfred's bones, that combination of sharp edges and gradients. I'm expecting at least a codex entry on the significance of gold in Nevarran culture, or why so many of the outfits have gold accents and accessories. Several of the Watchers wear stacked bangles...

...but not all of them. Those Nevarran hexagons are everywhere: on the giant skeleton's bracer, forehead, the lantern in its chest.

A better look at some of the architectural details in the Necropolis. in the bottom right, there's that canopic jar-like structure with the skull mask/headpiece—we've seen that in Emmrich's lab at the Lighthouse. I still hope someone gets to put the headgear on in the course of the game.

The diamonds and windows of the building in the background are similar to the ones in Minrathous, so giant skeleton here is not in the Necropolis any more. But who is it fighting?

The cloaked and hooded Watcher at the rear of the group seems to be the same faction representative from past trailers (they're rocking double bangles), and Myrna is walking just ahead of them too. A shot from the release date trailer for comparison.

Vorgoth, or whoever that Watcher is, is much taller than Emmrich. It's nice to see Manfred again—him being at what seems like a last ditch battle or confrontation suggests that he's viewed as being every bit as capable as the others. This shot is just begging to be used as wallpaper too. One more week! I'm sure I'll enjoy learning about the five other factions, but I can't wait to finally see the Watch's weird blend of medical science, magic, academia (librarian! Audric!) and goth vibes.

[thelesbianoffrontiers]

Myrna and Vorgoth character descriptions (from here)

MYRNA

AGERANGE: 25

CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Myrna is a necromancer from Nevarra. Utterly precise diction, calm demeanor. Crisp, polite, and intimidatingly competent. Myrna often speaks in declaratives, and absently drops archaic or obscure words at least once a conversation. She's not unfriendly, however, and firmly on the side of those doing good.

Myrna is part of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers who run Nevarra's sacred repository of the dead: the Grand Necropolis. They also protect people from occult dangers, a duty she takes seriously.

VORGOTH

CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Vorgoth is deep-voiced, solemn, and imposing. They're a member of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers from the kingdom of Nevarra. But what Vorgoth is exactly—their species, age, gender, whether or not they're alive—is a mystery, shrouded and masked in a cloak. Vorgoth clearly has supernatural powers, however. Even their voice has an otherworldly echo.

Vorgoth doesn't speak much, and only in short sentences. As one of the Mourn Watch, they help guard Nevarra's sacred burial complex, the Grand Necropolis. Like all Watchers, Vorgoth is also sworn to stop occult threats to this world, and takes this duty seriously.

NOTE: Vorgoth is masculine in appearance (tall, broad) and voice, but their pronouns are "they/them". Vorgoth does not use they/them because they are non-binary (as opposed to our more typical non-binary characters); they use them because they're a total unknown (and may be a pluralistic entity; in the rare instance Vorgoth refers to themselves, they use "we" not "I".)

[vaguely-concerned]

Down Among the Dead Men Reread thoughts!

The Mourn Watch continue to be my faves. What a bunch of absolute Fifth House style freaks. The description of Myrna taking control over Karn's possessed and enraged corpse like she's 'walking a small but wilful dog' fhkdsafhash amazing. I can't believe bioware is giving me the ability to roleplay as essentially a magical janitor. a good-natured magical corpse janitor slash gentleperson scholar. what more could I ask

the only time Emmrich is the least bit brought out of balance in the whole story is when he gets flustered at the way audric/curiosity kneels to take myrna's hand when they create their spirit/watcher bond. which. fdjfaks okay. we might perhaps read some stuff into that. 'let the poor fellow up' alright okay uh-huh. just taking some notes don't mind me. he genuinely seems so sweet and like such a comforting presence, though, I really can't wait to get to know him better

the way the mourn watch interact with spirits is fascinating. of the human cultures we've seen they may be the closest to conceptualizing them as equals (within clear limits -- there's still a leash, and a hand that holds it, at the end of the day).

the city watch exasperatedly bringing possessed corpses to the mourn watch like someone taking stray cats to a shelter or something is wild and hilarious within the context of the rest of thedas

audric taking a moment to drag outdated orlesian fashion my beloved

the big 'uncatalogued' self-animating skeleton monstrosity seems like it could be connected to the huge high lord vollnir-ass skeleton we've seen in the trailer no? tho honestly there's enough weird shit going on down there that it could be a completely unrelated skeleton monstrosity too lol

I love the way chantry beliefs and older cultural traditions meld in nevarra. the fact that audric finds the idea of cremation disturbing even though he isn't comfortable around the dead is really neat.

the necropolis is going to be SUCH a banger of a level I just know it. escher-ass house of horrors and casual comedy. (the corpse that sits up to scowl at audric and myrna accusingly for waking it before just lying back down😭). the fact that there must be actual architects who must spend their whole careers creating vast halls that will only ever be wandered by the restless dead...

also there are public gardens attached to the necropolis! now there's the space for a picnic if ever there was one

[justanotherflemethstan]

I have finally finished Veilguard. I have already voiced my critiques (critique 1, critique 2, critique 3 & critique 4) and I largely stand by them. so instead, here are 5 things I absolutely loved about Dragon Age The Veilguard.

1. Mourn Watch

Mourn Watch, Mourn Watch, Mourn Watch. Wow. wwowowowow. Everything, from Rook's background, their interactions with Emmrich and unique Mourn Watch dialogue options throughout the game, to the location and the lore and Myrna & Vorgoth, was Perfect. I wouldn't change a single thing and the only difficulty I have with the Mourn Watch faction is not making all of my future Rooks Mourn Watchers too. If bioware makes Mourn Watch themed merch I will buy ALL of it. if any of you are making Mourn Watch themed merch please hmu.

(also, can I just say, I bet that at least one of people responsible for Mourn Watch has read The Locked Tomb. you just can tell, and I say that as a compliment)

2. Grand Necropolis

Is it a cheat to have the first two points be kind of about the same thing? Who cares. The Grand Necropolis was AMAZING. I could spend an entire game within its walls and never leave. In fact, I WANT to spend an entire game within its walls. We need a Grand Necropolis DLC. I want to know EVERYTHING there is to know about its lore and its customs. I am truly obsessed. Special thanks to all the level artists and level designers involved in making Grand Necropolis happen.

3. Davrin and his romance

Davrin's romance was just breathtaking. Him and my Rook felt like soulmates and I loved loved loved every interaction they had. Everything from Davrin's character and his story arc to the voice acting and the way his romance with Rook was written is just fantastic. I probably won't be able to romance him again bc I ship him with my canon Rook so hard. Davrin easily goes into my Top 5 favourite Dragon Age characters of all time.

4. Combat

I've played a sword and board warrior and I had a blast. I was playing on Normal/Adventurer difficulty and admittedly by the end of the game my Rook became a bit OP and was insta killing almost everything that moved and bosses took about 8-10 hits. But I'm really really looking forward to experiencing the other classes and experimenting with different builds/party comps/difficulty settings. The combat was truly a highlight of this game for me and I'd say that it's probably my favourite Dragon Age combat system of all the 4 games now. Which is really not something I expected to say going into the game.

5. Companions and their personal quests

The devs promised us a diverse and lovable set of companions and imo they truly delivered. I liked doing companions' personal questlines the most, and I loved how they were all very different and didn't follow the same structure or story beats. Companions also all had different personalities and quirks and their interactions with each other were memorable and kept me engaged with the game even when I was struggling through some of the slower parts. The Veilguard did indeed deliver on The Veilguard.

___

I know all these are pretty subjective and I appreciate that everyone might have a different experience with any or all of the above points. I just felt it'd be only fair to be as vocal about the parts of the game I enjoyed as I was about the things I didn't like.

[ghostwith]

Updated

Paring: Emmrich x Kalinn

Rating: Explicit

-

Steam hung heavy in the air as Kalinn skunk deeper into the tub, hot water soaking into the tense ache in her muscles. The room was dark save for the light leaking in from the other side of the door. The silence and stillness was a comfort from the crumbling chaos outside, it felt as if for a moment the world was still.

She let out a deep sigh however as the sound of foot steps cut through the facade, silently praying the owner wasn't looking for her, she slid further down into the water letting it fully wet her hair.

The moment she pulled her head from the water the door swung open and Emmrich marched in, flicking his wrist to summon vielfire to light the room.

"Rook, we must discuss this." He announced, waving a letter in the air and unceremoniously perching himself on the edge of the tub.

"Emmrich, can it-"

"Unfortunately it requires notes from both of us, according to Myrna, some of the newer Mourn Watchers had an issue not recognizing a long standing member of the Guides and," Kalinn sighed as Emmrich continued, shifting slightly to cover herself as much as she could.

"Emmrich."

"One of them unfortunately is being added into those residing in the Necropolis, while the other is-”

"Emmrich Volkarin."

At that Emmrich paused. "Yes?”

"Emmrich, I'm naked and in the tub.”

Emmrich fully turned to look at Kalinn for the first time. Eyes flickering from her face down her body, lingering on her bare breasts in the water, before taking a shaky breath.

"You are." He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes back to the letter. "But I'm not here for that, right now.”

Kalinn shivered slightly. "Right now?"

Emmrich glanced back, locking eyes with Kalinn. "Right now, no. But I'd be remiss if I did not say the idea of joining you trills me.”

Kalinn sat stock still, floundering under his gaze for what felt like minutes before she found her voice again. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Emmrich parroted before continuing to relay the letter aloud. “The other recruit is currently being treated for-”

She couldn't absorb a single thing he was saying, his admission had made her thoughts spiral to an image of him undressing and slipping into the tub, hands sliding against her, his lips pressed to her collar. It made her wonder what his hands would feel like on her skin, what taste would linger if they kissed?

Suddenly possessed by the idea Kalinn shifted to stand, taking in a deep shuddering breath.

“Emmrich.”

He turned to respond immediately this time, only to find her standing before him, the harsh green light of the vielfire making the water on her skin shimmer as he watched it slide past the swell of her breast and down the curves of her body.

“Kalinn.”

“I think I would be the one remiss,” Kalinn began, gingerly reaching to cup his cheek. “If I didn't stop you from reading and indulge us both.”

Emmrich closed his eyes for a moment, leaning heavily into her damp palm and pressing a long tender kiss to it. “Do you have any idea how divine you look right now?”

“You're giving me an idea.” she sighed, sounding almost breathless.

It was Emmrich's turn now to find himself still in thought. This wasn't just Kalinn, it was Rook. His Rook. Not Lucanis’, Darvin’s, or Taash’s, his. Whose eyes looked at him half lidded and filled with unabashed wanting, and he wasn't a man who could deny that for long.

He pressed another kiss to her palm, eyes never leaving hers as he continued to trail kisses down her forearm. His free hand ghosting up her torso as he stood, mapping out the curves of her waist, tracing lines just under the weight of her chest.

Kalinn shivered in delight, grasping the back of his neck tugging him closer. “You Emmrich, are unfair.”

“Is it unfair to appreciate a work of art?” He chuckled resting his forehead against hers before testing the waters and gently palming her breast.

“Yes.” Kalinn gasped, “Yes it is, when you won't hang it on your wall.”

“We can arrange that then.”

Despite the haze in her mind, Kalinn watched Emmrich's expression soften as he drew her up into a deep kiss.

Needy, desperate, and filled with longing.

Is the only way to describe the heated open mouth kiss they were tangled in. Kalinn's hands knotted in his hair as she felt Emmrich’s hands drift down the curve of her ass before he gripped her tightly and hoisted her in the air, guiding her legs to wrap around him as she gasped into his mouth.

“Emmrich, what are you doing?” she murmured between constantly chasing the taste of him with her lips.

“Hanging you on the wall.” He rumbled trailing the kiss down her throat as she whined at the sudden contact of cool stone on her back.

“I'd have you here, I could have you right here.” Emmrich sighed, firmly pinning her between him and the wall.

Kalinn moaned, desire pooling in her. “You could,” she paused cupping his face, making him look at her. “I’d let you.”

He opened his mouth to speak as a loud series of knocks pulled them from their stupor.

“Kalinn, it's been long enough. Some of us would also like to wash the demon blood off our skin.” Came Lucanis’ rather frustrated tone.

Emmrich and Kalinn sighed in unison.

“I could kill him. I could kill him and you could bring him back later.” Kalinn murmured, burying her face in Emmrich's shoulder.

“Perhaps, but perhaps the bath wasn't the place for me to put you on display.” Emmrich whispered, carefully setting her back down as she flustered. Before Kalinn could retort, Emmrich grinned and called out back to Lucanis. “Forgive me, she’ll be done in just a moment.”

“Emmrich!” Kalinn squealed, eyes wide as he leaned down, silencing her with a quick kiss.

“I thought it would be better if they knew you're already mine. Now let's get you dressed.”

[nerdanel01]

All Things Grow, All Things Go - Pt. II

Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook (*Emmrich POV) 3k+ | SFW EXCERPT: Mindful of the fact that Wilfred had needed to rouse him—that Agnes herself might still be asleep—he knocked on her door, softly at first.

“Agnes?”

Emmrich waited… and waited. Listening for the rustle of bedsheets or the pad of her footsteps. When only silence greeted him, he knocked again, a bit more loudly this time. 

“Agnes, it’s Emmrich. You needn’t speak to me if you don’t want to, I understand if you are still upset. But you missed breakfast—I did not want you to go hungry. Will you please open the door?”

9:50 Dragon

Flinching at the urgent touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder, Emmrich awoke. 

He blinked blearily, taking in his surroundings—cold hearth, cold tea on the tray beside him, Wilfred’s bony hand on his shoulder—and recognized at last he had fallen asleep in his study, slumped into his armchair. Well, that certainly explained the sore ache in his back, and the awful crick in his neck. After his disastrous conversation with Agnes the night before, Emmrich had lingered in the study, hoping she might return after she had a chance to calm down and think things over. In truth he had wanted instead to chase after her, to beg her to listen to him, to try to make her understand… but he loved her, and it was all too plain he had hurt her. The kinder thing, he thought—the less selfish thing—was to give her some space. 

Emmrich sat up, stretching his arms above his head and sighing in satisfaction as something in his back popped into its proper place, realigning. Glancing up at Wilfred at last, he asked, “What is it?”

Wilfred lifted a skeletal arm to point at the water clock in the corner, the only veritable indication of time passing in the windowless Necropolis. By the water level Emmrich saw he had slept through the night; the breakfast hour was just beginning in the dining hall. 

Energized by the thought of seeing Agnes there, Emmrich stood, stretching once more for good measure. It relieved the ache in his back, but did nothing to calm the gymnastics of his stomach. How angry would she be with him, now that the night had passed? More resentful? Less? Would she spare a word for him—or even a glance? That would hurt, if she could not look at or speak to him, but it did not matter. Likely he deserved it, after how upset he had made her. At least if he could see her, though—even just catch a glimpse at her from across the room—he would be reassured: that things would turn out for the best, in time. That he had made the right choice. 

“I’d better join the other Watchers for breakfast,” Emmrich told Wilfred, combing a hand through his hair, trying to tame his bedhead back into a pleasing shape. It was unlike him to wander around so disheveled and ungroomed—unshaven, even!—but today, that could wait until after he saw Agnes. Certainly she could not think less of him after last night, and any errant whiskers on his jaw would not lower her opinion of him any farther than it had already sunk. “If Agnes comes by, will you please send her down to the dining hall?”

Wilfred made a short, baying sort of sound—more articulate than the feeble moans Alfred had been exclusively capable of producing, but still less than language—and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the request. Satisfied with Wilfred’s answer, Emmrich left the study, fighting the urge to quicken the pace of his steps the whole way to the dining hall. 

But Agnes was not there when he arrived. The hall was already nearly full, the bulk of the Mourn Watch gathered around the two twin banquet tables, chatting animatedly over their coffee and eggs. Emmrich scanned the room for Agnes’ face a second time, just to be sure he had not missed her at first glance—but she was nowhere to be seen. 

There was an open spot at the table beside Myrna; Emmrich thought it prudent not to sit there, at least not today. Instead he consigned himself to the far end of the banquet table nearest to the door, where he could easily keep an eye on the latecomers as they trickled in for breakfast. He dropped a few slices of fruit onto his plate, pear and melon, but it was mostly for show, a prop to occupy his hands and to excuse his presence in the dining hall as he waited for Agnes to arrive. Emmrich was not accustomed to being this nervous; he found the anxious clenching of his stomach had quite spoiled his appetite. 

Every time he detected any hint of movement from the entryway, he looked up from the kaleidoscopic arrangement of fruit he was pushing around on his plate—but none of the latecomers turned out to be Agnes. By the time the breakfast hour was waning and the dining hall was beginning to empty, she still was nowhere to be seen. 

That was troubling. No matter how angry with him she may have been, it wasn’t like Agnes to sleep in late, or to miss a meal. It would be best, Emmrich knew, to give her space—the whole point of this, of ending their professional partnership, had been to give her more space from him—but he could not resist the impulse to check on her, as paternal and unwelcome as it may have been. Before all the food was cleared away, Emmrich filled a cup with hot tea, put two almond croissants on a plate—Agnes’ favorite—and carried both to her room. 

Mindful of the fact that Wilfred had needed to rouse him—that Agnes herself might still be asleep—he knocked on her door, softly at first.

“Agnes?”

Emmrich waited… and waited. Listening for the rustle of bedsheets or the pad of her footsteps. When only silence greeted him, he knocked again, a bit more loudly this time. 

“Agnes, it’s Emmrich. You needn’t speak to me if you don’t want to, I understand if you are still upset. But you missed breakfast—I did not want you to go hungry. Will you please open the door?”

Was she sleeping? Or was she sulking, punishing him with her silence, her refusal to answer—just as she had pulled away from him when he had tried last night to take her hand? Again, probably deserved and Emmrich wouldn’t blame her, but her failure to answer now was putting grand, paranoid imaginings in his head, and the anxious knot in his stomach was tightening, mounting into a dull panic. 

He knocked on the door a third time, with force. “Agnes—”

But before Emmrich could finish, the door popped open, revealing darkness within. Had she kept the door unlocked while she slept…?

Then the smell hit him. Lye and lavender oil, her cleaning agents of choice. Emmrich’s dull panic rose to full alarm, his breathing quick and shallow, adrenaline stiffening the muscles in his legs. His hands shook as he summoned a mage light to illuminate the darkness within, but his heart was already pounding violently, heavy in his chest; it knew what he was about to find without needing to see it: 

The hearth, cold and empty. The sterile gleam of the floor, shining in the mage light. The bed made—sheets and blankets tucked straight and tight around the mattress—empty. 

Teacup and plate smashed against the floor before Emmrich even realized he’d dropped them, scattering shattered porcelain and pastry crumbs across the room, the splash of tea spraying the hem of his trousers and puddling across the too-clean floor. 

‘No. No, no, please, Maker, no—’

He crossed into the room, stepping directly into the tea puddle as he sped to the desk, pulling each of the knobs, peering into each of the drawers, his breath growing a little more shallow as every drawer turned up empty. His heart was sinking through him, heavier than a ship’s anchor. He raced to the wardrobe, elated at first to see that it was not wholly bereft, only for his hopes to crash all over again when he saw that it was only Agnes’ set of ceremonial Watcher robes that hung within it, none of her blouses or dresses. His heart was breaking. The nightstand beside the bed—those drawers, too, were empty. 

But the bed, he realized—to his complete and utter horror—was not empty. Not as empty as he had thought at first glance. 

His hands trembled as he picked the program off the bed, shaking so violently that when he held it, the program fluttered, as though it was billowing in a breeze. The Elixir of Love. The first opera they had seen together summers ago, when he had waltzed with Agnes after in the gardens… when he had first felt the conscious desire to kiss her, when at last his true feelings for her had become woefully and unavoidably plain to him. 

He felt lightheaded; his knees felt weak. He turned his body around and lowered himself, slowly and unsteadily, to perch on the very edge of the bed, feeling utterly wretched as he stared at the program in his hands. It was creased and wrinkled, worn and much loved, as though she had often held it, caressed it, treasured it in the years that she’d kept it. And though she had penned no note, it was clear to him the program had been set out this way for him to find, no other.  

‘She loves me!’ Nemorino had sung at last in his final aria, full of pathos as much as exultation. ‘She loves me; I know it, I know it.’ But of course, what Nemorino did not know—what was plain, at that point, for the audience to see—was that this recent turn of events had nothing to do with the sham “elixir” at all; that Adina, the woman he desired, had loved him in return all along. 

Impulsively he balled his hand into a fist, crumpling the program into a ball within it, unable to bear the sight of it. But then his eyes caught on the lazurite ring on his hand, and his guilt and his shame doubled. 

What a fool he had been! What a hopeless idiot! How long had he denied his desire, his deep longing for her, telling himself he could not possibly have her? When all along she had been at his side, waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be loved back. Myrna had been right about them, or right enough, and instead of listening to her and wondering if Myrna might have seen something between them that even Emmrich himself was blind to, he had done everything in his power to push Agnes away. 

An aim in which he had succeeded spectacularly: she was gone. 

‘So go find her!’

A fool’s hope, maybe, but the only one he had. How much time had passed? How far could she have gone? It would have taken her time, Emmrich imagined, to pack, to clean. There was no way of telling from her room how long ago she had left. Maybe, maybe…!

He leapt to his feet, shoving the fisted program into his pocket, and tore into the hallway. The study was closest; he headed there first. Opened the door with such volume and force that Wilfred startled, all his bones jostling in shock at the sudden entrance. 

“Wilfred, has Agnes come by…?”

But the thrall only shook his head; no. 

Leaving the study door ajar in his haste, Emmrich headed further down the hall to the Mourn Watch library. Trying not to think of all the terrible things he had said to Agnes yesterday. ‘Do you ever think perhaps we are too close?’ Trying not to retrace every word she had said to him in return, each of them burying more sharply and more painfully into his heart, now that he understood. 

‘You are that eager to be rid of me?’

‘What did I do wrong to deserve this?’

‘It would have been better for me to never have come here!’

He raced into the library, footsteps pounding, chest heaving, fighting for breath. There was barely anyone there at this hour of the day, but one of the ancient thralls that helped keep the shelves organized was already at work, standing high up on one of the ladders, reshelving books. 

“Gunther, have you seen Agnes?”

“Not since last week,” Gunther replied, somewhat tartly. “When you see her, do remind her that she has several volumes in her possession that are overdue for return…”

But Emmrich was already back in the hall, taking it at a flat out run, having fully abandoned any sense of decorum. Back to the dining hall; perhaps he had just missed her. Hoping beyond hope to find her there. Drowning in all the memories that were washing over him, all that had transpired between them, all that he had so woefully misunderstood. 

‘I have cherished every hour I have worked with you,’ Agnes had said, when she had presented him with the ring. With a ring. Had he really not perceived the symbolism of that gift, the circle around his finger like a lover’s endless promise? Or had he simply refused to believe it, to accept what the ring had really meant? ‘Who else in my life would I give such a gift to, if not you?’

Commander Johanna was the only one left in the dining hall, pouring herself one last cup of coffee from the carafe on the tabletop. She looked up at Emmrich as he rushed in, her features creasing into a frown. 

Breathlessly, he asked, “Have you seen Agnes?”

“Why are you asking?” No small amount of suspicion in her voice.

“She’s gone,” Emmrich answered, too panicked and heartbroken to be mortified by the way his voice cracked over the last word. 

“Gone?” Johanna pressed him, an edge to her voice. “What do you mean, ‘she’s gone’? Gone where?”

“I don’t know,” Emmrich told her, close to tears. “Her room is empty, there’s no sign of her—I have to—!”

He raced past Johanna, down the stairs at the far end of the dining hall to the kitchens as Johanna called after him:

“Oh, well done, Emmrich! I told you to let me talk to her first! What did you say to that poor woman?!”

But Emmrich was not paying attention. Nothing Johanna said to him now could wound him more deeply than he was already doing himself, bruising and bleeding himself on all the terrible things he’d said and done, all of the ways he had been completely blind. But it could not be too late. He would not give in, not yet—would not let himself think he had lost the chance to make things right. 

And yet, the kitchens—empty. The sparring room, the apothecary—both empty, Agnes nowhere to be found. 

How far could she have gotten? Where, really, could she have gone? It could only have been a few hours since she had left the Necropolis—Emmrich could not fathom, refused to believe she had already left Nevarra City. 

He had not changed his clothes nor so much as washed his face, looking (he was sure) entirely unpresentable as he dashed down the Necropolis steps and into the city streets. At this hour few businesses were open, save for the cafes, already setting out freshly baked pastry and brewing fine Antivan coffee. These, Emmrich checked first, beginning at the ones he knew to be Agnes’ favorites. But she was nowhere to be found, and none of the proprietors had seen a woman fitting her description. Where was she? Sweat trickled down his brow, made his shirt stick to his back as he raced next to the druffalo cart station on the eastern edge of the city, where passenger carts, for a small fee, would transport people north and south along the Imperial Highway.. No Agnes. Finally he headed north, to the docks; had she, perhaps, booked passage on a boat? Where would she go, out in the world, all by herself? On the way he stopped at all the horse traders, but none of them had sold a steed yet that morning, or the night before. No luck at the docks, either, though he had pushed through the crowds of people eager to book passage on the Minanter, peering into each of the faces of the people gathered there… wondering, in the depths of his self-loathing, if it were possible that Agnes hated him so deeply after all those things he had said to her, that she might glamor herself, disguise her face from him just to avoid the onerous task of having to speak to him. 

He had run circles around the city. He could not remember the last time he had run anywhere without Agnes at his side, fleeing from some mystery of the Necropolis, Agnes throwing arcane darts over her shoulder at whatever was pursuing them. His heart was pounding; he had sweat through his shirt. It was in this state—disheveled, unkempt, exhausted—that he had at last made his way to the theater district, to the opera house. 

The square outside of the theater was silent, empty, an eerie contrast to the space as he had otherwise known it: thronging with people, well fed and well dressed and well drunk, merrily proceeding through the tall arches into the lobby beyond. Now, it was sleepy, the box office not yet open for ticket sales. The loudest sound was the patter of the fountain, splashing gaily in the center of the square, sparkling in the morning sun. A flock of pigeons cooed around its base, the whole flock taking off in a panic as Emmrich trudged through their ranks, dropping at last to sit at the fountain’s edge… staring up at the opera house, its travertine facade shining blindingly white, like a holy accusation. 

Emmrich balanced his elbows on his knees, and took his head into his hands. 

He had hoped against hope he would find Agnes here, but there was no sign of her. And yet though he did not see her, he could not get the image of her out of his head: Agnes, clutching their tickets with her hands covered in little lace gloves, flashing him breathlessly delighted smiles as they queued to get into the theater. Agnes, throwing a silver coin into the very fountain on which she sat, refusing to confide in him her wish. Agnes, barefoot and uninhibited, humming in the jasmine-scented moonlight. 

…Agnes, looking up into his face under that same silver moonlight, waiting for him to kiss her. To finally see her. 

‘She loves me, she loves me! I know it, I know it…��

His body curled in on itself, as though he was protecting himself from an oncoming blow; there was a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the distance he’d run. The despair, the sheer weight of the mistakes he had made threatened to crush him. 

That impossible, enduring affection—the kind of love strong enough to conquer even death, the kind of love he had perhaps wanted but never truly believed he’d have himself—he had almost had it. 

Or worse, he had it exactly, and he had not merely let it slip through his fingers, he had chased it away. 

For Agnes was gone—utterly lost to him, that much was clear. She had disappeared so neatly, without a trace. Oh, Johanna would send trackers after her, bounty hunters, surely, (it would have been professional neglect not to do so—the Mourn Watch kept too many secrets that they could not risk getting loose) but Emmrich did not believe for a moment they would be successful in finding her. 

“Please,” he spoke under his breath, to no one in particular. To Andraste and the Maker, perhaps, though he had never strongly believed in either. “Please, let her be safe.” 

But no, not just safe. As the sweat cooled on his body, as the fountain sprayed at his back and his heart rate slowed and he felt himself growing uncomfortably cold, Emmrich knew it was more than that. Safety, yes, at the very least. But after all the years she had devoted herself to him—all the years he had been determined to see her affection as daughterly and nothing more—she was owed far more than just safety. 

With as much conviction and faith as he could muster, he spoke his last wish for her to the quiet morning:

“Please, let her be happy. Let her be loved.”

[profoundlyfaded]

Another thought where it comes to my new fancination with Emmrich Volkarin - going back to yesterday's post about why he doesn't flirt back, you can also add a Mourn Watch faction specific reason to this as well. So this won't work for your Grey Wardens or Antivan Crows, etc, but if your a Mourn Watcher - what does he think of your actions during The War of the Banners?

During 'Where the Dead Must Go', Emmrich asks Rook what took them so far away from the Necropolis, and this opens the conversation where Emmrich notes that he had heard that a young Watcher, Ingellvar (you, of course) used unorthadox means to quell the rebellion. There's a slight tone of disapproval, in my opiunion, before learning that Rook is Ingellvar. Remember, when you are putting your mementos in your room, a Mourn Watcher Rook refelects that some called her actions 'casual destruction of the dead'. For a Mourn Watcher, this sounds like a pretty serious crime.

We never find out what Emmrich makes of MW Rook's actions, but I suspect that he finds it a great shame and ponders on the alternatives - what would he have done?

Regardless, he agrees to help Rook with their mission. Once the bell is rung, Emmrich asks Rook to explain why they are there on there way back to wherever it is they meet Myrna and Vorgoth. I imagine even if he believed the worse case scenario about Rook, the draw of the Lighthouse would be just too much for him.

In this context, when Rook begins flirting, Emmrich has an added layer of caution; he wants to get the measure of Rook. Did they participate in a wanton act of casual destruction of the dead, or was it warrented. Emmrich isn't going to reciprocate feelings with someone who's shown such disregard for the dead. But over time, he sees that Rook made a difficult decision with the best intentions, earning his affection in return.

[thelibrarian1895]

My Mourn Watch Rook

So romanced Lucanis and also listened to some Emmerich and Lucanis banter and thought...now there's an idea

Mourn Watch Rook adores Lucanis and will do anything and everything she can to protect him and Lucanis will do the same for her.

One crow, an idiot, thinks that trying to kill the First Talon is a good idea since the Dellamorte family doesn't have anyone else to take the role once Lucanis is gone and might let their own house rise in status.

They fail of course, even if Lucanis somehow misses the effort, Spite is keeping an eye out and Rook's work brings wisps around to watch over things. But let's say that Lucanis goes into a convenient coma. Spite is piloting the body, at least until Rook convinces them to retreat to the Lighthouse, so no one thinks the First Talon is vulnerable. They're clearly up and able to move under their own power, they just have a contract that they must immediately deal with and their girlfriend gives them, and only them out of all the Crows, access to the Crossroads. Definitely not the demon taking over while they're unconscious and possibly near death.

Rook's reaction in the aftermath however is to decide that not a single Crow is going to succeed in a contract until Lucanis tells her otherwise.

Every. Single. Contract. Will. Fail.

Specifically because the contract targets are just going to fail to die.

She'll have to recruit some other watchers to help but there's probably enough that are getting real tired of all the contracts on King Marcus and this might give them the leverage they need to have at least the crows stop accepting that particular contract. Plus in the aftermath of saving Thedas, potentially banishing the Blight, and being their sweet crypt baby, Rook is a watcher favorite.

(My Rook was 100% semi raised by Vorgoth. Myrna is essentially their cool big sister)

Teia and Viago have no sway over Mourn Watcher Rook. Yes she likes them, yes she thinks they're cool, but they're not the whole reason she even relocated to this weird country with admittedly great food but also a habit of cremation that is very unsettling. Caterina actually approves and when Lucanis wakes up she gives her opal ring to her grandson, her grandson who should be making her a great grandmother.

The Crows may rule Antiva, but death is the Watcher's domain

[svartalfhild]

Some fun DATV things I'm experiencing:

Playing as female Rook makes the first few quests until you get Lucanis very Girls Night, which I really started to notice after a friend pointed it out and she is so right.

Neve is bestie.

Lucanis' intro cinematic made me feel so attacked. That shit was so my brand lol.

Lucanis and Neve's banter is hilarious and if I don't romance Lucanis I may end up shipping him with Neve.

Did Bellara's first personal quest and almost cried. Hit me a little close to home.

Neve's hangout quest was delightful. I want to chat and snack and walk around with her all day.

Neve and Bellara's developing friendship is so fun. I want to see a scene where Lucanis gets involved in their cooking adventures.

Shopping and getting coffee with Lucanis was like Oh No He's Thoughtful And Charming And I'm Weak.

Chose Lucanis over Neve in that one decision that made me want to scream and now she's hardened and I'm so sorry bestie I was thinking of the defenseless people and I will never be okay again.

Varric playing mentor to Rook got me right where it hurts. He's there for when you need an adultier adult to tell you that you're doing okay and that he's proud if you. I cry forever.

Assan and Manfred are my SONS and I LOVE THEM and I make the most ridiculous noises when they are on screen. THEY ARE SUCH GOOD BOYS.

The quest to acquire Emmrich is fucking delightful if you're a nice Mourn Watcher and you bring Bellara along. Just three huge nerds enjoying each other's company while doing dangerous shit.

Davrin and Emmrich's banter is like two dad's comparing notes.

As a Watcher, Myrna kinda feels like my mentor-mom, which is funny.

More thoughts to come. Just wanted to scribble down a few things so far for the people to let y'all know I'm having a fucking blast.

[curioussubjects]

i started my mourn watch playthrough the other day, and so far it's exactly what i wanted from the veil jumper origin. don't get me wrong, im loving the mourn watcher origin, i just wish a veil jumper rook had gotten a similar treatment. honestly, this might just be my biggest complaint about veilguard.

the special interactions when you reach the necropolis really make you feel like a part of the faction. emmrich has so much special dialogue with a mourn watch rook and he doesn't treat you like you're ignorant of knowledge you should have. instead, he takes your knowledge for granted, based on your likely rank in the watch, and talks to you like a peer. there's also a real sense of kinship between him and rook as fellow necromances dealing with a world that largely misunderstands them and finds their art off-putting.

i also liked the familiarity between rook, myrna, and vorgoth. they're not as close as rook and the crows, for instance, but that makes sense considering the dynamic of the different factions.

meanwhile, as a veil jumper it seems like strife and irelin barely know rook, and bellara talks to you as if you're completely unfamiliar with the workings of arlathan. playing as a mourn watcher now, i barely noticed a difference in dialogue/interaction between rook and the veil jumpers. or even that much difference in how a veil jumper rook behaves in arlathan forest versus a non-veil jumper rook.

it's a huge disappointment too because i can see so many ways that the veil jumpers could've been more developed, letting rook shine regardless of lineage and class, and without overshadowing bellara:

rooks who are tinkerers and can "yes, and" bellara with their knowledge and enthusiasm, historian rooks who are curious about ancient elves and are more focused on the culture than the relics, fade nerd rooks who really care about the metaphysical wonkery in arlathan forest, explorer rooks who really know their way around the forest despite all its weirdness. real missed opportunities here!

and while the veil jumpers aren't as close knit as the crows or the watchers, maybe there could've been more npcs with ambient dialogue who have worked with rook before, or more general commiserating between veil jumpers and their experiences in arlathan forest. i also think it could've been really interesting to lean into strife being strict with rook and irelin being an actual friend who goes behind his back to keep rook in the loop or something.

seriously, bioware, what the hell.

i'd be curious to hear from players who did the other origins. are they as well crafted as the crows and mourn watch origins or are they like the veil jumpers?