#there’s a reason he’s in the necropolis

[galedekarios]

thoughts on emmrich's vows & vengeance ep

i just wanted a place for me to gather my thoughts about emmrich's ep.

i have to say that i enjoyed it much more than the others, though i'm very likely biased. i absolutely have my problems with the overall writing as well as the way the podcasts treats the lore of the world, but i liked the insights it gave into emmrich, his personality and also his relationship with manfred.

so in no particular order:

1: emmrich's kindness

this is something that really, really stuck out to me this episode. emmrich is so incredibly kind.

from wanting to set the horses pulling the carriage free so they can have a chance in the storm, even if there is a possibility they might not come back and leave them stranded in the middle of nowhere:

ROLET: The storm’s getting heavy, Master Emmrich. We may not be able to go much further. What do you want me to do? EMMRICH: Hmm, perhaps we should pull the carriage off the road and hunker down inside until it passes. ROLET: What about the horses, sir? EMMRICH: Unhitch them. ROLET: Unhitch them? EMMRICH: Those animals are every bit a part of nature as this storm. Their instincts will guide them to safety. We just have to give them the freedom to take care of themselves. I trust they shall return when this tempestuous weather has passed.

he's immediately ready to help nadia despite knowing nothing about her, who she is or what she is saying is true, dismissing rolet's very reasonable fear of bandits:

NADIA: By the Lady, I am so happy to see you. We, we, we've been stuck here at least an hour. I didn't know what to do. They, they were too heavy to carry in this mud. Their pulse is falling and I- EMMRICH: There, there. Please put your mind at ease, my lady. What is your name? NADIA: Nadia, but… EMMRICH: A pleasure, Nadia. Emmrich Volkarin, at your service. Now come, we have some room in the carriage and you can shelter there until the storm passes.

he's not only incredibly polite to everyone in this episode, but he's also very gentle with rolet and helps him walk after he injured his ankle:

EMMRICH: Forgive me, but I must gently roll the ankle to examine its condition. (ROLET YELLING) EMMRICH: How does that feel? ROLET: Ah, not good! EMMRICH: I'm afraid it might be broken. I don't think you can walk. ROLET: I can limp. EMMRICH: Not by yourself, you won't. We shall help you. Now, here we go.

he's incredibly human here, not caring about standing, doesn't think himself above to do so because rolet is his coachman. he only wants to help. it's also very nice to see him being a healer, too.

DRAYDEN: That's it! That's where they went. EMMRICH: Well, then we go this way. Please take my arm for balance.

the same kindness and compassion that he shows the horses in the beginning, nadia and drayden, as well as rolet, is echoed in the way he treats the spirits/demons in this episode:

EMMRICH: Spirit, I am warning you to stop this right now. DEMON SPINELLA: Piss off, human slime. EMMRICH: I do not wish to hurt you or the body you inhabit, but I will not allow you to harm my companion. DEMON SPINELLA: Go back to your necropolis, death whisperer. EMMRICH: I'm sorry, but that body does not belong to you. EMMRICH: Spirit, you are not welcome here. And you are not welcome to that body. You shall leave now! EMMRICH: Please relinquish her body before someone gets hurt. DEMON SPINELLA: Oh, well, if I can't have her body,then no one will! EMMRICH: Easy now. Take that bottle away from your neck and put it down. DEMON SPINELLA: Or else what? EMMRICH: Please, I beg of you. DEMON SPINELLA: I want you to remember this moment clearly and painfully because this is on you! (FLESH SQUELCHING) (DEMON CHOKING AND GURGLING) EMMRICH: No, don't! EMMRICH: No!

he doesn't know who the woman possessed it yet he still tries to save her. he still tries to reason with the spirit.

and even though we can't see what is happening as for as the character's facial expressions are concerned and drayden rushes to reassure emmrich, that what happened is not his fault, that it's not on him, i think that it's very clear in his prolonged silence after that emmrich may see it as his failing and that it left him shaken.

all in all, it just really echoes what corinne busche and others who were lucky enough to play the preview of datv already said about emmrich: he's an extremely kind man.

what makes me worry though a bit is just how quick he is to trust and others at their word.

i talked about this with my friend @lairofsentinel too and we both feel that emmrich might not be as discerning about people's motivations and their possible deceptions - and the inherent danger in that - as he is when it comes to the dead, spirits and healing.

of course, taking v&v's writing with a grain of salt, but if it's reflective of how emmrich behaves in the game itself, it might be interesting to explore this "flaw" in emmrich's character.

emmrich seems very much too good for his own good.

he has spent more time among the dead, knows about their regrets and their emotions, and is renowned for his skill (see also tevinter nights). it might be that it came at the detriment - to some degree - when it comes to dealing with the living.

2: emmrich being very competent at what he does

it was also incredible to see emmrich at work:

NADIA: Drayden! EMMRICH: Stand back. EMMRICH: (echoing) May these words travel beyond the flesh, beyond the body, flowing down the silver thread to the spirit lost. Your home is calling, Drayden. Hear me! Your home is calling. NADIA: What are you doing? EMMRICH: I'm sending a message beyond the Veil to let Drayden know that it will soon be safe for them to return to their body.

-

EMMRICH: Now I need to finish preparations, but once the ritual begins, it shouldn't take long. However, with the poison's advancement, I will most likely need to perform an exsanguination. PASCAL: Hmm, blood magic, such messy business. EMMRICH: Ah, merely a cleansing. Nothing will be summoned, I give you my word.

-

EMMRICH: Spirit fire of midnight suns, through my spire of ill and ire, the wretched blood be blessed, not mired. EMMRICH: Manfred, stand back, I must direct the blood through the air without interruption. But,be ready. (MANFRED HISSES) EMMRICH: Let the cleansing grace lead you to thy spirit's place. Manfred, the blood has gathered. Quickly, please, spark the flames with the silver power. EMMRICH: Excellent work, friend! The blood is returning to the body. Drayden's spirit has heard the call. Come on, Drayden, I can feel your spirit's might. You are strong. You can do this, just fight. Fight for yourplace in this world. EMMRICH: That's it, you're almost home. Manfred, please smash the ampoule of Cetusbile. EMMRICH: Drayden, I commit you once more to the flesh. Now, find this body and purge it of its trespass. And wake up!

i also like that last bit especially because it's another callback to corinne busche saying that emmrich is all about positive affirmations, that he's very encouraging.

i remember the gameplay previews where he compliments rook during a fight - and he does the same here, encouraging drayden to find their own strength to return.

3: emmrich & manfred

i absolutely love the way these two interact. emmrich clearly is proud of him, he defends him, he speaks up for him. but he also knows he can rely on manfred.

my favourite moments were probably this moment after rolet and nadia startle at the sight of manfred:

NADIA: Why is there a walking skeleton exiting your carriage? EMMRICH: That, dear Nadia, is Manfred. NADIA: Manfred, your assistant? EMMRICH: Indeed, a gentle spirit, ball of curiosity, and a threat to no one.

it's just such a sweet way to describe manfred and you can tell there's genuine affection there.

i also thought it was cute that manfred doesn't like nicknames and that emmrich translates for manfred:

NADIA: Someone hand me that board. NADIA: Thanks, Bones. NADIA: Ah! What's your problem? EMMRICH: Oh, I'm afraid Manfred here is not very fond of nicknames. NADIA: Oh, sorry. (MANFRED GRUNTING) EMMRICH: He says apology accepted.

there also multiple instances of emmrich complimenting manfred on his work, just as he did in his short story:

EMMRICH: Manfred, did you salvage my kit? (MANFRED GRUNTING) EMMRICH: Excellent work.

and it's clear that manfred is a big part of how emmrich performs his duties. he's very much included at every turn and emmrich clearly relies on him and trusts manfred to do what he needs him to do.

4: other stuff

ROLET: But this place is creepy. EMMRICH: Well, I think it's quite charming. ROLET: All due respect, sir, but you would.

emmrich finding the obviously haunted castle vibes of their temporary shelter charming while everyone else has the creeps (and rightly so!) was so funny and in character.

in conclusion:

me waiting for 31st october:

[ddarker-dreams]

ranking the current husband rotation on how well they handle you crying.

even if he's the reason you're crying, chrollo is unfairly good at providing comfort. he considered himself numb to the sight of tears, but you plucked a cord buried deep inside his decayed heart. he assesses the scene before him with a quiet intensity. unless it's an event that just unfolded, he can always guess what got you this emotional based on past conversations and observation. his immediate instinct is to check you over for injuries. once he's assured that isn't the problem, he makes his presence known. softly saying your name, beckoning you toward him with open arms, offering an embrace deep enough to get lost in. the smooth tenor of his voice paired with his familiar warmth and scent envelop you in a comforting cocoon.

he doesn't tell you that it's okay, that there's no need to cry. he just allows your emotions to run their course. once you've settled down, he'll lead you by the hand to a couch and sit beside you. he'll quietly wonder if this is about so and so, gauging your body language for an answer if words fail you. he doesn't need to ask if you need anything. he just knows, his intuition has been sharpened to perfection by the time you've spent together. he's already thought through a myriad of solutions to whatever predicament you're facing, but he'll save that for later. the future is put aside so he can focus on you in the present.

scaramouche doesn't consider himself a sentimental person. he's allowed whatever goodwill he was born with to rot, gleefully accelerating the process so nothing but thorn and bristle remained. this garden turned necropolis returns to a shadow of itself at the mere sound of you sniffling. if that wasn't bad enough, the sight proves itself infinitely worse. he'll freeze as if his system powered down. this can't be right. you, the only being he considers worthwhile in this world, crying? he storms over, takes you by the shoulders and implores you to tell him what happened.

it's likely his abrupt appearance and grave demeanor won't prove an effective approach. he knew it before he took the first step, but his ability to rationalize succumbed to fear. fear that you were hurt, no matter what form this hurt takes. he wants an enemy to throw all this onto so he can tear it asunder. that'd give a semblance of control, something tangible to work with. if you can't provide him with names or details, he's at a loss. all he can do is think back to the many times he cried alone and trying recalling what it was he wanted then.

he'll hold you in a stiff, uncertain manner. the rough edges prove how genuine the act is.

blade is acquainted with grief and its numerous shades. the difference between you being that he's clawed at his retinas until he couldn't perceive those colors anymore, figuring it best to blind himself rather than granting outside influences the privilege. you cause the monochrome to revert. his empathy is raw, painful, and beyond verbal expression. he initially hesitates to confront this situation head-on. he couldn't offer sweet nothings if he wanted to — and he doesn't, platitudes are revolting — so what does that leave him with? he could say something insensitive, or his inability to form words might be an insult of their own.

he's fought few battles as fearsome as this. there's all the hallmarks of a bloody fight looming over the horizon. his breathing's picked up, adrenaline pumps through his abused nervous system. his hands itch to hold his sword. except there's nothing to slaughter here, no, he's tasked with the far more complicated task of imbuing life. he'll have you lay your head on his shoulder. he'll apologize, though he doesn't know what for. he just keeps you steady. you apologize for getting tears on his jacket as if he wouldn't let you tear him limb for limb if it made you feel a bit better. you probably don't want to hear that, so he presses a chaste kiss to your head instead.

[lucianhuntress]

Emmrich x Reader: 58. “Don't get used to it.”

This was super extra special bonus that I came up with in the morning late in the night. No actual Veilguard spoilers in it. Just inspired by the Mourn Watch Rook.

The hallways of the Necropolis hum eerily, reminding of the lingering presence of spirits even when they mischievously stay out of sight. Sometimes the temperature drops uncomfortably as you walk through the stoney corridors to the professor's study.

Professor Emmrich usually treats his pupils equally and you aren't supposed to be any different. However, your enthusiasm in the studies of necromancy has piqued his interest; not only are you excited to learn —you have also shown skill in the simple rituals and ceremonies you have done so far. Obviously you are nowhere near his level, but with his guidance you may reach the pinnacle of spiritual magics one day.

Normally he wouldn't even be so invested in additional tutoring, but the light glimmering in your eyes like a dozen gleeful spirits makes his heart flutter. Spirits enjoy your presence and apparently so does he. 

“Tea?” He asks, musing to himself as he eyes you across the small table while you unpack your bag; a book of reanimation, a quill and a bottle of ink. You are always ready to take notes and he is happy to delve deeper into the theories of magic with you.

He notices how you have filled the margins of your spell book and he knows the act is condemnable; so many books in the library are often found full of illegible scribbles. Instead he finds it cute; another little detail about you and he really shouldn't keep adding any more reasons to find you endearing. It is hardly appropriate to favor one student anyway, much less to actually have feelings for.

“Yes… please. Professor.” you smile at him warmly, causing his heart to flutter. Manfred saunters over to you with a tray and pours tea into a very fancily decorated cup. You inhale the soft scents of the tea, before taking a sip.

“Oh dear. I see Manfred used the finest tea I have,” Emmrich says in a disappointed manner while somehow managing to sound cheerful at the same time. His eternal cheerfulness is something that keeps impressing you even if you are knee deep in femurs, ribs and spines while chanting a spell and holding a candle.

“I-I’m sure I've never had anything like this before.” You stutter slightly as you stare at the cup wide-eyed. “It’s so good, professor!”

“It certainly has such a deep and robust flavor that I rarely dare to drink it myself.” Emmrich sighs and taps his thighs gently, as if to end the tea serving. “Don't get used to it— I think I have to hide the remaining leaves.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something to himself.

You let out a delighted chuckle, feeling the warmth of the tea spreading across your body. Emmrich studies your expression with bemusement. “I shall treasure this cupful then.”

[mythalism]

frame by frame analysis making sense of the new release trailer >:)

major spoilers below including clips from today's trailer, clips and info from previous trailers, and mention of information from broken NDA's/leaks

everything i mention here is basically new footage or footage given new context within today's trailer. most of the trailer is stuff we've already seen, but there are a few completely new clips and honestly some major reveals if you're looking closely and are generally INSANE like me :D

starting at the top is this same scene we have seen several times now, originally from the (controversial) reveal trailer back in like june, but we are seeing it before whatever ritual happens begins. ive been trying to figure out where exactly this takes place but im honestly not sure. it could be the black city in the fade, though the sky doesn't really look fade-like and theres a distinct presence of gravity and logic that the fade doesn't have. plus, the moon can be seen a few seconds later, and she's usually not in the fade.

these statues are similar the ones from solas's ritual site in the prologue of the game, but area is slightly different. the evanuris statues seem to be in the same order, however.

i honestly dont know where this is. or what the fuck this thing is.

lyrium idol????? titan heart orb?????? no clue. its red though!

next we have a new dragon we have seen very little of over in rivain. we have only ever seen this dragon in shots of rivain, such as taash's introduction in the original reveal trailer. it seems to just be a dragon, but the audio that plays at this moment says "it's been feeding on the blight!". i think this is an editing fake-out, and would bet that this dragon is just something we slay when we recruit taash.

we can see them being sexy and fighting it in the reveal trailer:

next up is a shot of a blighted minrathous, featuring both the andraste statue we saw in the gameplay reveal and the famous floating panopticon, being taken over by blight cysts and tentacles, under a red sky (seemingly caused by that ritual happening with the red ball in the first pic). remember this one because its arguably part of the biggest reveal of this trailer :)

next we have some venatori nonsense. to be honest idgaf about these losers but they are up to something, possibly working with the evanuris if i were to wager a guess, considering it is effectively confirmed that the evanuris are the old gods, and there is no way they are not capitalizing on that worship and loyalty by manipulating the venatori just like cory did!

what is interesting is WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?

my heart wants to say andruil so bad. its probably not its probably some venatori or something but what if. WHAT IF!

next we are back in minrathous with..... some massive skeleton feet stomping around?

we know this is minrathous for a few reasons, mostly because of the magic glowy barrier wall in the background that we see later in minrathous with venatori walking past but also with our entire group of allies:

this is extra interesting because the only time we've seen anything about giant skeletons are of course this dude, who we have seen now here and in the release date trailer

THIS guy is clearly in the grand necropolis however, so the question is how did he get his big skeleton feet to minrathous? of course, there could be multiple big skeletons running around causing havoc. we will find out in a week. heres another shot of the skeleton feet because i find this fun

next!

we know this is ghilan'nain's archdemon because we see it referred to as that (could be marketing manipulation, tho) and see it in the gameplay we have seen of the weisshaupt quest. this seems to also be in weisshaupt or the surrounding area of hossberg, due to the cute lil griffon statues behind her head

next we are back to the giant skeletons; this time i think this guy is in minrathous rather than the necropolis due to the architecture behind him. this could be the top part of his body while his bottom half is crushing rook beneath his big skeletal toes. im already obsessed with this

next we've got something else that i have no fucking clue about: ???????? all i have to say is notice the distinctly elvhen ear. ghilan'nain's creation perhaps???? why are they stabbing a rock and why is it bleeding??? why does this look identical to the skyrim dragonbone armor??????

next we have mother ghilan'nain being a freak in a new scene with a massive serpentine monster <3 this seems to be in weisshaupt because of davrin, the steeples in the background, the lighting, and the griffon statues on the right.

we see the serpentine monster again later in the trailer and it honestly looks so fucking sick. this is a creature we have never seen before and i cannot wait to see it in action. it seems like the above scene takes place after this one, perhaps after the creature is defeated?

NOW REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU TO REMEMBER THE MINRATHOUS PANOPTICON BEING BLIGHTED????

whats that? in the corner?

pookie is free and walking around minrathous <3 <3 <3 also notice he has his dagger on his hip....

speaking of the dagger.... we also see rook taking it out of a stabbed ghilan'nain

we saw the first half of these scene earlier in the release date trailer, as rook tries to get close to her and large waves of power burst out of her body:

im gonna put it into the universe now because why not..... i think this might be an attempt to cure ghilan'nain of the blight. MAYBE! im just saying. we know a stab to the heart with this isnt neccesarily fatal because we know varric survives something similar. or, this is one of the few ways to effectively kill a blighted creature that can just hop bodies, like we know cory and archdemons can do.

next we see a familiar dragon in what seems to be a new setting?

this is the same dragon from the snowy, warden fight scene we've seen several times now, with this dragon and then the blue one that we saw the boss fight of. but the architecture on the right is clearly tevinter, the statues are ???????, and the spine off to the side kind of looks like what we saw above with that massive serpentine creature. i wonder if the mish-mash means that this is in the fade.

next we see a follow up to a moment we saw above, all of your assembled allies together in minrathous:

this seems to happen moments after this:

i think this is probably the finale of act 1, and all of these scenes of your squad running through minrathous lead up to the other ones we have seen of a massive dragon fight under a red sky, with solas in the dread wolf form. this one, from the release date trailer:

this is also the same environment where the skeleton guys are stomping around earlier, so part of me wonders if they are actually on our side against whatever evanuris/dragon/eldritch horror we are fighting here and just a bit clumsy <3

also - shoutout to carly @arlathen for noticing it looks like there is an executor in this lineup

thats all folks! partly because im done but also because i literally hit the 30 image limit LMFAO. my biggest takeaway from this is that solas is freed from his prison fairly early on, because i really thing this is the finale of act 1. they have said that everything we've seen in marketing is from act 1 and i dont think that would have changed for this trailer.

happy 1 week left and please go crazy speculating in the replies and reblogs xoxo <3

[blueiscoool]

The Panagyurishte Gold Treasure to Be Displayed at J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles

The Panagyurishte Gold Treasure and exhibits from the Bashova and Mushovitsa mounds will be put on display at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, USA, as part of an exhibition dedicated to the region of Ancient Thrace. The Ancient Thrace and the Ancient World. Treasures from Bulgaria, Romania and Greece exhibition features more than 150 exhibits of fourteen Bulgarian museums and will be on display between November 3, 2024, and March 3, 2025.

Archaeologist Lyubomir Merdzhanov of the Regional Archaeological Museum in Plovdiv told BTA that his museum will participate in the exhibition with three treasures, one of which is Bulgaria’s emblematic Panagyurishte Gold Treasure. It is one of the so-called deposited treasures, which does not consist of tomb artifacts but was hidden for some reason, he explained. The other exhibits are objects from two mounds (Bashova and Mushovitsa) from the iconic necropolis near the village of Duvanlii in the Kaloyanovo Municipality.

[lafaiette]

Also, can we talk about magic? i suppose they wanted to make the game more luring to new players, but magic used to be rare, closed under the lock and feared. Mages were feared and cosidered dangerous. Tevinter was an execption, not a general rule. How come people forgot only ten years ealier there was a regular war between mages and chantry, the very reason Inquisition was formed? Why is there magic, anciet elven magic behin every corner? It feels like reboot.

"It feels like reboot"

Because it is a reboot 💀 Or at least, it's the first step towards one.

Explaining how magic is seen in Thedas, all the different opinions and fears and hopes people have about it, would have been impossible in a single game clearly aimed at luring new players in. They put all the major pieces of explanation in the codex (one part of it is filled and complete since from the start of the game, because it's basically a catalogue detailing everything about Thedas), and let you play as a mage to your heart's content, with no strings, no responsibilities attached.

They tried to preserve some logic in Minrathous - there's mention of how Tevinter's families try to breed the perfect mages to rise in power and influence, so that's good. But you also see a "Noble" mingling with a "Civilian" among the fishermen, and telling her she shouldn't waste time and money on making things better for the poor people. What the hell is she doing there, then? Why isn't she in Minrathous proper, drinking wine and looking down on the poor districts?

Just around every corner, a few feet away from the closest tavern, Venatori are constantly putting up blood magic barriers. The same in the Necropolis, with the Venatori making camp just one door behind the main hub where the Mourn Watch is stationed. Everyone performs rituals, the Circles are barely mentioned, a Forbidden One is hiding behind a door in the Necropolis' main hall and no one ever noticed it before, not even Emmrich.

Statues of Fen'Harel and the Evanuris, elven relics and elven contraptions are hidden everywhere - everywhere. To show how vast and influential the elven empire was? That was probably the devs' intent. Does it always make sense? No. Is it for gameplay purposes, to fill the map with puzzles and stuff to find like in the 2000s? Obviously.

In Inquisition, there was an entire area of the Hinterlands ravaged by the Templars and rebel mages. The refugees were scared of walking the roads to find food because there was wild magic flying around. Rabid templars crazy on lyrium roamed the woods, and the Chantry was powerless.

Elven ruins were scattered around with sense, with a purpose, barely visible among the vegetation, forgotten and avoided, or almost forced to fuse with Chantry's buildings (just look at the Emerald Graves). There was a logic behind the NPCs' and props' locations in the world.

Here, there is simply no logic or consequence to anything ever. The Black Divine is never addressed, as far as I remember. Dalish clans have lost any distinction - the only elven faction you meet is that of the Veil Jumpers, which is a weird cocktail of elves who all know how bad the Evanuris are and random humans and Qunari. Yes, there are humans being allowed to guard ancient elven artifacts in a Dragon Age game. No, they are not called shem. Yes, they all get along swimmingly.

The Crows are not slavers and dangerous figures anymore - they're actually the heroes of Treviso! They treat their fledgling Crows with care and respect, no torture involved. Where did you hear such a preposterous idea? Zevran? Who's Zevran?

Taash says the Qun isn't a prison. How is that possible? They sent assassins after Bull when he defected. They hunt Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth if they dare leave, and if a sten loses his sword, he cannot return home, because his brethren would kill him, as "to a Qunari warrior, the sword is the soul."

So yeah, this was definitely supposed to be a reboot for Dragon Age, just like Andromeda was supposed to be one for Mass Effect. That's why everything falls flat.

[heylittleriotact]

Eulogy

I know there has been talk of Emmrook smut, but this short one shot took precedence in light of what day it is - it'll be a year tomorrow that my Grandma passed away, and I'm feeling reflective. So what do we do when we're stuck in our own heads? We write! (Full text under the cut or on ao3)

Summary: Emmrich finds Amina drinking wine alone in the dining hall relatively early in the day, but not for the reasons he might think.

A fluffy oneshot about loss, grief, regrets, and saying goodbye to the ones we love... and keeping their memory alive.

It wasn’t the most palatable combination: the herbal bitterness of the licorice was a poor compliment to the fruity sweetness of the wine, but Amina couldn’t think of anything in the world she wanted more at the moment. The clashing flavours took her back to warm houses and loud laughter, a bowl of the same candy within reach, and the chiming of crystal to punctuate the end of an amusing story told to gathered company.

Reda did love to tell stories. 

Staring forward, lost in memories, she held the gold pendant around her neck in her hand and nestled the pad of her thumb into the slight indentation in the center, the metal warming to match her temperature until it felt almost lifelike. 

That ridiculous game she could play for hours as a child - the one where one person sent a gulder rolling across the floor on its edge and the other person rolled it back… Reda would cater to Amina’s boundless joy and play as long as she wanted even though her knees complained and her back did too. Achy joints proved many times over the years to be of little impediment to Reda’s passion for playing games. 

She smiled and rubbed the pendant. 

“Darling?” Amina glanced up from her chair, her smile widening at the sight of Emmrich. “I didn’t realize you snuck in.” 

“I was looking for you to–” his eyes found the bowl of candy on the low table and then the bottle of wine, and then the glass in her hand - it was only just past midday. “Is everything alright?” His tone pivoted from one of enthusiasm to concern.

“Hm?” Amina hummed distantly before she comprehended his cause for concern: she didn’t drink often, never this early in the day, and never by herself. “Oh - this. This must look strange.” She felt her cheeks redden: it wasn’t that Emmrich wasn’t welcome, she just thought that with Lucanis and Neve visiting the market in Treviso today, she’d be able to take a moment for herself in the Dining Hall. “I’m fine. Why don’t you join me?” She straightened and gestured at the empty lounging chair across from her, the pendant in her hand dropping back onto her chest. 

She supposed she could have sat at the main dining table, but it just seemed so large and empty for one person to sit at with no company. 

Emmrich sat without hesitation, looking unconvinced by her assurance. 

“Today marks a year since Reda died. She and her husband, Gortan took me in after I was found in the Necropolis and they raised me like I was one of their own. Closest thing I ever had to family, those two and their kids.” 

Ah. There it was: the face Emmrich was making - the Mortician’s Mask: the expression that every single mortalitasi in the Necropolis could don at will. It wasn’t an unpleasant expression, nor did it look forced or disingenuine - the opposite, actually: it was an expression of true compassion, sympathy, and unspoken affirmation that the person making it was listening, should one want to talk about it. 

He was very, very good at it.

“My deepest condolences, darling.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I sense that I’ve clumsily intruded on a private memorial.” 

“You haven’t intruded on anything,” she popped another piece of licorice into her mouth. “Just taking a moment or two for some memories - you’re more than welcome to join me… she always did love a party, and she would have thought you were a perfectly charming young man.” 

The corners of Emmrich’s mouth lifted at the compliment. “In that case, I would be remiss to decline such a graciously extended invitation.”

“Good answer, love.” Amina rose to her feet and set down her glass before crossing to the cabinet against the far wall and returning with a second wine glass for Emmrich, smiling the entire time.She filled it and handed it to him, sparing the time it took to brush her fingers across his. “The sweet ones from the Anderfels were her favourite - wine, I mean. Not… not lovers if that’s what you thought I meant.” 

Always so eloquent around this one, aren’t I?

“I assumed you were referring to the wine.” He looked at her like she was personally responsible for the existence of the stars in the sky. “Will you tell me about her?”

So Amina did. She told him all about Reda, and how she was a mother, and a matron at the Necropolis, passionate and devoted to her work for her entire life. She told him how she raised Amina in a household of love and acceptance, and how she proved that family was not defined by blood alone. She told him of her champion’s heart that compelled her to spend what little spare time she had advocating for those in the city that needed a voice - how she was still that voice for others even until her dying day. She told him how she found joy in simplicity and companionship, licorice and sweet wine; and how she found comfort and peace in her faith that saw her through life’s kindnesses and its hardships in equal measure. 

“She wouldn’t be bullied around by anyone - and even when she was standing up for herself or anyone else, she was always kind - firm as a bronto when the occasion called for it, being a matron and all, but always… kind.” The pendant was back in her hand, and she poured herself and Emmrich another glass. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t… I’ve always felt different than everyone else. Like I’m a mismatched piece trying to blend into a world of people that are kindred in ways that I can never attain, no matter how hard I try.” She looked down at her fist clenched around the pendant. “Reda was one of the few people I’ve known who always made me feel like I belonged.” She cleared her throat; steadied her voice. “I miss her a lot.” 

“She must have been tremendously proud of you: I daresay you’ve inherited many of her virtues by the sound of it.” 

“The stubborn streak a mile wide? Entirely her fault.” She laughed then, and it felt good when Emmrich joined her: it made her heart feel a little lighter.

The laughter faded though, as it will in such circumstances. 

“I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I wanted to when she got sick. I wanted to be there for her and take care of her like she took care of me… and I did when I could, but I was still an active Watcher, and she fell ill right around the same time as the War of The Banners, and of course then I was… ‘sent to travel’ and fell in with Varric.” She looked at her knees. “I was in Cumberland when the Watch sent word that her death was imminent. Rode as fast as I could without killing my horse to get there in time.” 

“Did you?”

A thin smile. “I did.” Amina whispered, the faint pride in her voice unmistakeable. “Have you ever been at someone’s side during their last moments?” 

Emmrich nodded but did not elaborate.

“Then you know what it’s like - the way time seems to pass glacially, and how the air itself buckles and stills. The very existence of life is so colossally tangible and concrete just before it dims… yet we spend so much of our own lives dulled to its majesty, wrapped up in other things…” she was staring into her wine glass as if it might reveal some answer to her. “It was a privilege to be with her in the very end: to be able to repay a small fraction of the love she showed me, and companion her onwards to her next adventure.” 

There was a shuffling sound as Emmrich left his chair and took up the one closest to Amina, shifting it closer to hers. Still leaning forward, he held out a hand to her, his long, ringed fingers unfurling. Amina placed her hand in his and he softly pressed his lips to the back of her hand, his thumb brushing her fingers soothingly. 

“A remarkable woman. Thank you for sharing her story with me, darling.” 

“Thank you for listening.” 

“It’s what we do best.” 

She didn’t feel like crying. There was absolutely nothing wrong with crying when the time to weep insisted on itself, but while there was regret tied to Reda’s passing, there was little sorrow. Instead she was filled with a feeling of joy and love unique to situations like this that she didn’t have a word for - she wasn’t even sure such a word existed for the feeling. The closest thing she could think of was: grateful. 

“Want to hear about the time she and Gortan took me to the woods for a relaxing getaway when I was about nine, and I wound up getting stung in the ass by a wasp and hiding in a cave because I was so mortified at the thought of her tending to it?” 

“Ah, so your proclivity for refusing to accept assistance stretches back well into your childhood, I see.” His eyes glittered with mirth and she wanted to kiss him then: Emmrich had impeccable timing when it came to lightening the mood.

Instead she smirked and said, “Oh shut up and top up our wine, won’t you? You’ll need it for this one.” 

He acquiesced, his hand on her knee a physical reminder that he was there and would stay for as long as she’d have him. 

“To a remarkable woman.” Amina raised her glass, and Emmrich echoed her. 

Their cups met, and they drank to a beloved memory. Stories were told well into the afternoon, and as Emmrich walked her back to the Lighthouse, Amina’s heart felt full to bursting: perhaps the wine had gone to her head, but her face hurt from smiling and she couldn’t stop giggling as she walked arm in arm with her favourite person: she wouldn’t have wanted to spend this day with anyone else. 

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

In your opinion which of the Endless do you think has the hardest job and why?

short answer? death

slightly less short answer - either death, dream, or none of them, depending on the angle you're looking at it from

long answer... they're all perfectly suited to the task they were made for, so in the sense of physical ability, none of their jobs are difficult. which means difficulty can only be measured by emotional toll. and that's not really based on the job so much as it is on how much they care

the big thesis in sandman is that life = change. that's an equation that cuts both ways, and a theme that runs through almost every character. the endless, as the fundamental aspects of life, all have power over something that can change people, right to their core

and that's a huge responsibility, which they all have their own ways of coping with

we never learn that much about how it affects destiny or despair, but death had a huge character arc to go through (everything she says in the show is originally in a winters tale, as well as the fact that she stopped collecting souls, because it was getting to her too much - until she realised that was doing more damage), so now she copes by finding meaning and purpose in it, by befriending everyone she comes to take, by living in some ways a human life of her own

desire ignores it, and tells themselves that mortals don't matter to them, so why should they care who gets hurt? they turn it all into a big game and they don't let themselves think about it for even a second, because if they did it would destroy them (the narration tells us this at the end of dolls house)

destruction didn't cope with it, he left, and refuses to let there ever be another destruction of the endless

and del... just observes it. she accepts the difficulty and the responsibility, and sees it with a lot clearer eyes than her siblings. and sometimes that means she's the most fit to cope with it. other times it breaks her too, and that's when she gets her bad days

the reason i list dream as a possible option here, is because dream is not coping. he's trying to do everything his siblings do at once and none of it is working for him. he can't be desire, because he cares too much about mortals to ignore and laugh at them. he can't be death because he doesn't see himself as someone with a life, just someone with a job - that has to come before everything else. he can't be destruction because again, he values his purpose more than his happiness, leaving is inconceivable. and he can't be delirium because that would require him to see the world as it really is - and his nature runs fundamentally contrary to that

so that could be why dream. but this could also be why none of them - because that's not really the job that's hard, so much as it's not working for dream specifically. if he was somebody just slightly different, he'd be able to handle it a lot better

(the other reason i might consider dream is the vortexes - we don't see enough of the other endless to know if this is something they have to deal with (or something similar), it might be, so this might not be a dealbreaker? but it's definitely not easy for dream, overture goes into that plenty, he viscerally hates the idea of killing people, it goes against everything he is, and yet he has to, or the entire universe will die. and that's a tough responsibility to have)

so why death? because she's the only one who will never die. she doesn't, herself, change, not even if you force a reincarnation like with dream. her sigil will stay the same forever, the necropolis only holds six funeral cerements - death is unlike the others, its written in the rules. it's not the only way she's an exception either; it's mentioned at one point in brief lives that the endless all feel uncomfortable in each others' realms, they can sense that this place is made of an entirely different energy to the one they're used to. except death, who can traverse all the other realms as easily as her own, because even her siblings have to die eventually

more people under your charge, more people to care about. the more it hurts if you let it. her job covers every being in existence, and for the most part it involves being something they don't want you to be. she has had every negative emotion people are capable of directed at her, in a much more first-hand way than her siblings may get. and you have to be okay with it, you have to

because the only way to be free of it is to be the only person left in all existence

[hydrangeapartridge]

I am floored.

Spoilers for Emmrich first companion quest under the cut. My opinion and it's a bit long!

I was not expecting that but I am very pleasantly surprised. The whole Necropolis setting is strange but also somehow beautiful??

Small detail but I appreciated that you couldn't run in the garden because that wouldn't be respectful of the dead. The atmosphere there was on point and I like that Rook can say it's scary or disgusting and isn't at ease. i obviously didn't choose these options and I was taken aback when Emmrich started talking about his fear of death.

I felt so connected to him because I get what he meant! I personnally get anxious of death for no reason at times and it is terrifying.

I love the refreshing new approach on necromancy the game offers and I loved the little tea time after the rituals (Manfred is scary weird but precious at the same time XD).

Emmrich seemed taken aback by our flirting; I can imagine he wouldn't expect it, but then after the quest when I talked to him and flirted, he smoothly called Rook "my dear" for the first time and let me tell you I swooned ❤️

In conclusion: I loved that first companion quest, can't wait for the next one. This romance is not started but already good; it feels intimate. I really enjoy this character.

I would love to know how other people perceived that quest!

[biowhore]

Ok switching hyperfixations

The Mourn Watch backstory though

Found as a baby INSIDE THE NECROPOLIS. Inside a tomb!

Am I delusional (yes) or does that have some tasty implications?

I also love how it's a little more contrasting to Emmerich, or at least of what I know of him so far. He's very scholarly, and the paragraph for Rook is giving me a strong-handed feeling.

Which is awesome for my Rook because I developed Kalliope pretty early and was surprised that I had the same ideas that Bioware did in regards to approaching death and dying and the people that run the Necropolis. They turned out a little TOO much like Emmerich and I've had a hard time reworking it. I really wanted Kalliope to be this surface-level sweety pie, really compassionate person but will be absolutely fucking ruthless if you cross boundaries. But I was struggling to really dig into the 'why' around their darker parts. Being an orphan of completely batshit unknown origin that has been a keystone in a war is a really good reason for depths of empathy and compassion. Now they can be more fleshed out and look up to Emmerich as a mentor and father-figure.

AND and, all the shit they've been through will tie in nicely to helping Lucanis and their relationship toward Spite (because of those tasty implicatons).

Ooh the juice, it flows.

[nerdanel01]

Dilemma

Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook 5k+ wc | SFW, CW profane language (Johanna drops some f-bombs) EXCERPT: “Ah, yes, Emmrich. Come in. Close the door behind you.”

That had the alarms in his head ringing. What did Johanna have to say to him that she did not want anyone else in the Mourn Watch to overhear? His stomach flipped, terrified that she had ill news to share with him.

“Did you find something?” he asked, his voice both keen and fearful. “Is she—”

“No,” Johanna said, shaking her head, dragging the heels of her palms over her forehead as though she were trying to smooth away a budding migraine. Bitterly, she continued, “No, there is still no sign of her. It is like the Maker himself scooped her up in his hands and set her down half a continent away.” But then, with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head, Johanna changed tact. “But I did not call you here to talk about her. I wanted to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes, you.” Johanna put both her elbows on the desk, folding her hands together, and gave him an unbearable look of concern. “How are you, Emmrich?"

9:52 Dragon

He would have thought it impossible, but it was true: after all these years, so late in his life, Emmrich was still discovering new things about himself. Though he had never before felt himself inclined towards habitual self-loathing and self-punishment, he had found himself, over the last two years, developing a taste for such masochism. 

When, by chance, he had seen the promotional poster for The Elixir of Love displayed outside the opera house, he had made an immediate beeline for the box office. Not unaware of the pain it would cause him to sit through the performance—indeed, perhaps in anticipation of it—he impulsively bought out the whole box he had shared with Agnes during their first outing at the theatre so long ago. 

The music that had once felt so sweet and buoyant to him now tugged painfully at his heart. How utterly stupid he had been—nearly as foolish as Adina, the opera’s heroine, though she at least had realized her mistake before it was too late, before Nemorino was lost to her forever. He could not escape the memory of Agnes, her parted lips colored with red pigment as she had watched the opera, breathless. 

He leaned back into the shadows of the box so that no one else in the theatre would see his wet cheeks shining in the dim performance light. 

And, unable to bear even the first melancholy opening notes when Nemorino took the stage for his final aria, Emmrich stood up from his seat and made a discreet exit. 

‘What more need I look for? She loves me! Yes, she loves me, I see it, I see it.’

But instead of returning to the Necropolis he had waited on the opera house steps, trying to calm his eager, hopeful, thundering heart while he waited for the performance to conclude. As the audience began to stream out of the theatre, Emmrich stood, facing the lobby doors and scanning every face, just as he had scrutinized the audience from his box before the curtain rose on the production. There was no reason to believe Agnes was still in Nevarra City. Two years, they had been searching for her; the other Watchers, that they might officially and dishonorably discharge her from their ranks for her abandonment of her post; and Emmrich, that he might fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness. And as the crowd swelled, then thinned to a trickle—as the ushers began to snuff the theater lamps and lock the doors for the night—Emmrich should have acknowledged his defeat. 

Still, he held out an impossible hope. The crowd had been thick; the theatre packed. Emmrich made his way to the public gardens, and posted himself on a bench beneath the watchful gaze of Caspar Pentagahst, mere feet from where he had danced with Agnes over seven years ago. Where he should have kissed her, fully and deeply, had he not been a coward and a fool. If she were here, if she had been drawn back to the city, to the opera, might she retrace their steps, as Emmrich himself now did? An impossible hope. Still, Emmrich sat in the park through the night, tormented by ghosts and regrets, languishing in memories, until dawn cracked the sky. 

Though Emmrich had tried to hide it, losing Agnes had changed him. He was less ebullient than he had been, more withdrawn. Slower to make connections with the younger initiates that joined the ranks of the Mourn Watch. His work, to which he had always been devoted, took on the mania of obsession. When an unfortunate incident in the Necropolis had claimed Wilfred, he had virtually locked himself in his study. Only eating when Myrna brought him food from the dining hall and bullied him into forcing down a few bites; only sleeping in fitful starts in his armchair. He had emerged at last two and a half weeks later, unshaven, haggard, and over a full stone lighter, with Manfred—his most splendid creation yet—trailing sentiently behind him. Compared to his predecessors, Manfred was so complex, so alive, that he was a perfect proxy for genuine human contact. And rather than resting, rather than celebrating, and allowing himself a respite from his work, his success with Manfred had only thrown him deeper into it. 

One day, after this had gone on for three months, Johanna had summoned him to her office. Emmrich had stood in her doorway, exhausted and listless from another late night in the study. “You wished to speak with me?”

Johanna looked up at him, set her spectacles down on her desk and rubbed wearily at her eyes. At the time the search for Agnes had still been fully active; the failure to find her was weighing on Johanna, though Emmrich could have told her months ago that she would not succeed in her pursuit. Perhaps, if Agnes had genuinely intended to betray the Mourn Watch by profiting from the sale of its secrets, there might have been a trail to follow. But Emmrich had been certain her only goal in departing the Mourn Watch had been to disappear entirely. 

“Ah, yes, Emmrich. Come in. Close the door behind you.”

That had the alarms in his head ringing. What did Johanna have to say to him that she did not want anyone else in the Mourn Watch to overhear? His stomach flipped, terrified that she had ill news to share with him.

“Did you find something?” he asked, his voice both keen and fearful. “Is she—”

“No,” Johanna said, shaking her head, dragging the heels of her palms over her forehead as though she were trying to smooth away a budding migraine. Bitterly, she continued, “No, there is still no sign of her. It is like the Maker himself scooped her up in his hands and set her down half a continent away.” But then, with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head, Johanna changed tact. “But I did not call you here to talk about her. I wanted to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes, you.” Johanna put both her elbows on the desk, folding her hands together, and gave him an unbearable look of concern. “How are you, Emmrich?"

“How am I?” he repeated, incredulous. Had she called him here to talk about his feelings? “I’m fine.”

Johanna hummed, looking at him skeptically. “Not sure I believe that, frankly. You have not been yourself, not since…” Johanna’s voice trailed off, reconsidering, but she did not need to say it. Not since Agnes left. Neither of them had spoken her name, and yet her ghost was just as present in the room, as material as the both of them. Johanna’s voice became gentler. “I thought perhaps you would like to take some time off. Visit your family’s estate in the countryside, before winter is upon us.”

Emmrich had not spent any real length of time with his family since he had joined the Mourn Watch. He did not think he would enjoy the curiosity and questions, the gossip his sudden reappearance after all this time would provoke. “You were thinking I could?” he asked, a barbed edge to his tone. He knew he was being surly; he could not help it. “Or you are insisting that I do?”

“Are you asking me if that’s an order?” Johanna asked, unable to hide her faint amusement. “Emmrich, I know you well enough by now to know that I could not force you to do anything you do not want to do yourself.” Again, an uncharacteristic edge of concern crept into her voice. “But I am worried about you. I’m not the only one.”

“Then leave me to my work,” Emmrich insisted. “It is what I am good at. What I am best at.” “Emmrich—”

He cut her off; he would say it more plainly, if he needed to. “It is the only time I do not feel utterly wretched,” he told her, emphatically. “It is the only time… the only time I am not thinking about it. When I am working. I need the work, Johanna. If I were to stop…”

If he were to stop, Emmrich feared it would break him. The agony he felt at her loss, at that terrible severance, was difficult enough to bear with the distraction of work. If he did not have his studies—if he were consigned to the Nevarran countryside for some tortuous, indefinite period, forced to politely sip tea with his sister and play lawn games and do nothing of interest or of use to anyone—the grief would open its jaws and swallow him whole. 

For a moment, Emmrich feared Johanna would fight him. Certainly she had never shied from a confrontation in the past. But something in his face must have convinced her, because finally, she nodded. 

“Very well,” she acquiesced. “But Emmrich—you are not alone. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” “You already have,” Emmrich told her, honestly. “You looked.” For different reasons, perhaps, than Emmrich’s, but they both wanted her to be found, and Johanna had done everything in her power to make it happen. “That she was so determined to vanish, that she left no trace… I do not hold you responsible for that.”

Without missing a beat, Johanna flung the question at him: “But you hold yourself responsible?”

Emmrich blinked at her, surprised she even had to ask. “Of course.” 

‘It was my fault, all of it, from beginning to end. If it were not for me, she never would have come here; if it were not for how I treated her, she never would have left.’

“Oh, Emmrich.” The pity and the compassion in her voice—two traits Johanna often kept in reserve—were devastating to him. She rose from behind her desk, circled around it to his side. In a rare display of intimacy and warmth, she lay her hand down on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“If there is anything at all I can do—if you change your mind and want to take some time—please do not hesitate to let me know.”

That had been over a year ago. In the ensuing months, Emmrich had only retreated deeper into his work. He did resume taking his meals in the dining hall with the other Watchers, and made better efforts to keep himself as immaculately groomed as he had always been before. But these were hollow gestures, rituals performed out of the fear that if he did not improve, Johanna might change her mind and take things into her own hands, placing him on a forced leave of absence after all. At dinner, he no longer smiled or laughed as he once did. At night, when Myrna had left the study and returned to her own quarters, he sometimes found himself pulling out the special folio he had purchased for Agnes’ drawings, running his fingers over the fine linework and reminiscing. He felt himself becoming every bit as bitter and distant as his own father, and hated himself for it, but saw nothing he could do otherwise to stop it. To move through the world in any other way—to be present in it, to fully confront the totality of his loss and contend with it—would have been far too painful. 

Even his partnership with Myrna was strained. She had been one of his dearest friends in the Mourn Watch before they had been assigned to work together. Now, Emmrich suspected there was a part of her that resented him. After what had happened with Agnes, Emmrich had, perhaps, overcorrected. His partnership with Myrna he was determined to keep formal, clinical, professional; although he would also begrudgingly admit that it was anything but professional that Myrna was often forced to bring him food from the kitchens out of the fear that Emmrich was inadvertently starving himself. They shared the study, but even when Emmrich was just across the room from Myrna, he was worlds away, easily distracted, lost in rumination and self-recrimination. Even when the study was full—Emmrich, Myrna and Manfred altogether, working busily alongside one another—the room still felt empty, an essential warmth missing.

“Hello? Emmrich? Emmrich!”

With a start, Myrna’s voice pulled him out of his morose reverie. Across the study, from where they were working in tandem on some alchemical concoction, Myrna and Manfred were both staring at him; Manfred with concern, Myrna with no small amount of impatience. 

“Do you intend to answer that, or should I take your silence to mean that you expect myself or Manfred to do so on your behalf?”

‘Answer what…?’ Emmrich almost asked, but just then he heard Johanna’s voice, cast from the enchanted sending-stone set near the entrance of the study.

“Emmrich! Emmrich Volkarin! Are you going to answer me, or are you going to make me come down there myself?”

“Apologies, Myrna,” Emmrich answered, leaping up from his armchair and hastening to the crystal. “Lost in thought.”

He did not miss the soft, chididing, ‘as per usual’ that Myrna whispered under her breath, head bent conspiratorially with Manfred’s over their experiment. 

Stepping over to the doorway, Emmrich touched his fingers to the yellow facets of the carved stone, gleaming with prisms of magical energy as they transmitted Johanna’s voice.

“Yes, Johanna, I am here.”

“Excellent,” Johanna’s voice replied, unusually quick to forgive the sloth with which he’d answered her call. “Would you please join me in the public parlors, please? With all haste…!” And with that, the sending stone grew clouded.

“She’s in a remarkably good mood,” Myrna commented from across the room. She had not failed to notice the odd sweetness in Johanna’s voice, rare to begin with but rarer still in the last few weeks. Of late, the disturbances in the Necropolis had reached a fever pitch, exceeding even the danger that they had experienced when the Breach had opened in the South ten years prior. 

Emmrich had not missed it, either. “That cannot be a good thing,” he replied, with no small amount of trepidation. 

“Eager as she is, it will be worse if you keep her waiting,” Myrna added, which was all the impetus Emmrich needed to get on his way. 

But Johanna was not waiting for him in the public parlors. Curiously, she had posted herself up in the corridor leading in their direction. The past months had worn on her, aged her. Now, however—even from a distance—Emmrich could see that she was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement, her hand clasped briskly behind her back. The Mourn Watch insignia gleaming white upon her breastplate matched the glint of her teeth, revealed by the too-pleased grin on her face. 

Approaching her, he asked, “I thought you were going to meet me in the parlors?”

“Couldn’t resist.” Johanna’s grin widened. “You are not going to believe it. I didn’t believe it myself, when the docents came to tell me.”

“To tell you…?”

“Who was waiting for me,” Johanna replied, sweetly, “on the Necropolis steps.” 

Johanna gestured for Emmrich to follow her, turning and leading him down the corridors, to the public parlors the Mourn Watch staged to receive visitors. “You recall, of course, how the lower levels of the Necropolis have devolved into a quite literal den of horrors after the sky opened up and started spitting out demons a few months ago?”

“It is impossible to forget,” Emmrich answered, cagily. What did that have to do with the visitor they were on their way to greet? And why was Johanna in such high spirits about it? Johanna was his friend, and it was good to see her happy, but he did not like the smug look of satisfaction on her face one bit—

“Guess who just showed up offering to help us with that particular problem.”

Emmrich’s mouth and throat went dry. “Who?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Johanna teased, giving an exaggerated, theatrical shrug. “Could it be, perhaps, one of the best Watchers I have ever had the pleasure of serving alongside? Perhaps even someone I proudly recruited myself?” Emmrich’s heart dropped into his stomach. ‘She cannot be saying—’ “Perhaps, someone you chased out of my guard over two years ago? But that would be crazy! What are the odds?”

The door to the public parlor was just coming into view around the curve of the hallway. From within, Emmrich could clearly hear a set of voices, raised in argument.

“Oooh,” Johanna said, furtively, “it sounds like the girls are fighting.”

“Johanna,” Emmrich said, fighting to keep his voice even, commanding. “Who is in there?”

Johanna only lifted an eyebrow at him, too self-satisfied, it seemed, to give him a straight answer. As they neared the entrance, the voices within the parlor became more distinct:

“…able to face the Elvhen God of Rebellion, but not your old boss?”

“…sounds like an appropriate division of labor! I brought you here, Lace. Now I’ll handle Fen’Harel, and you can deal with the Mourn Watch—”

Hot and cold all at once, mind blank and fuzzy, paralyzed with hope. Emmrich nearly tripped over his feet, forgetting how to walk, how to breathe as he reached for the doorknob. He knew that voice, he was sure of it—!

And if he had not been—if there was even the tiniest part of Emmrich that was not wholly confident of what he was about to find—it was not left to wonder long. Because as soon as she had thrown those words in response to whomever it was she was arguing with inside the parlor, Agnes had flung open the door.

Her eyes met his, and she froze like a stag, a prey animal trapped on the threshold between fight and flight. Emmrich could not think, could not breathe, possessed of but one beaming, brilliant thought: ‘It is her!’ Changed subtly by the two years she had been gone (the scar on her brow, the lines around her eyes) but still certainly Agnes, Agnes Gallatus, beloved , standing before him. He had given up hope. He had resigned himself to the belief that he would breathe his last with only the memory of her to comfort him. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to weep; he wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her against him, press her body to his to be sure she was real. But the sight of her arrested him, elated him even as it threatened to asphyxiate him, and all he could do was stand dumbstruck before her, drinking in the sight of her.

It did not matter that she was unhappy to see him—and that was clear from a mere glance at her grey eyes. Irrelevant, too, that she had clearly been trying to sneak back out of the Necropolis and avoid this encounter entirely. All that mattered in that moment was that she was here, alive, in front of him. A gift he was certain he did not deserve. It felt so selfish to be happy, to be so pleased to see her here again. Perhaps he was just a selfish old man, after all. Emmrich fought the urge to fall to her feet, to wrap his arms around her calves so that she could not go until he finished debasing himself, begging for her forgiveness. 

So tight was the ache in his chest, so loud the pounding of his blood, he could barely draw the breath required to speak her name. "Agnes?"

Grief and shame pulled at her face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then favored him with a maddeningly neutral expression of defeat. 

“Hello, Volkarin.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, only to be interrupted by one of the visitors seated in the parlor beyond the doorway. 

“Whoa. Is it just me, or did the vibe in here get really weird all of a sudden?”

Over Agnes’ shoulder, Emmrich saw a red-headed dwarf deliver a chastening shove of her elbow to the tattooed elf beside her, hissing, “Bellara!”

Taking that as her cue, Johanna stepped around Emmrich, placing herself squarely between himself and Agnes in the doorway. Sickeningly sweet, she asked: “And no greeting for me, after all this time?”

At the sight of Johanna, Agnes’ face flushed red with shame. She dropped her eyes to the floor, acknowledged her with a respectful, dutiful dip of her head. “Hello, Commander Hezenkoss.”

“Watcher Gallatus!” Though her back was to him, Emmrich could tell from the tone of Johanna’s voice alone that she was favoring Agnes with the same smarmy grin she’d worn the whole journey down the hallway. “The prodigal daughter returns! I have to say, I was confident we had seen the last of you.” Pausing for dramatic effect, she then added, “I am going to be charitable, and assume we are not catching you thusly on the threshold because you were about to embark on yet another hasty departure.”

Johanna had her pegged; Agnes’ blush deepened, the distress on her face plain. “Of course not, Commander.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Gallatus,” Johanna told her, pleasantly. “Come. Let us sit.”

Agnes bowed her head once more, then backed into the room, retreating to the tufted red velvet sofa against the far wall. She sat at the leftmost edge, next to the Dalish elf—Bellara, Emmrich guessed. On Bellara’s opposite side sat the red-headed dwarf; Johanna dropped into the high back chair beside her, forcing Emmrich to assume the only remaining chair in the room—not two feet from where Agnes sat on the sofa, her posture painfully straight, looking like she was ready to bolt from the room at the first opportunity granted to her.

The parlor was dimly lit by a magnificent chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling, an artwork of wrought iron and pink glass that cast the room in a warm, rosy glow. As was customary, tea had been set out on the table for the guests, but it looked like only Bellara had welcomed herself to it. The elf anxiously passed her eyes between Johanna, Agnes, and Emmrich, then back to Agnes again; the awkwardness between them must have been painfully obvious.

“Hello, Commander Hezenkoss,” she chirped at last, raising a hand to wave, attempting to dispel the tension by the power of her cheer alone. “I’m Bellara Lutara, and this is Lace Harding,” she said, gesturing to the dwarf at her side; then, waving at Agnes, she added, “And of course, you already know Rook. It’s a delight to meet you! I love all the cute little skulls on your tea cups.”

“Rook?” Johanna said, grinning with interest, turning her eyes from Bellara back to Agnes. “What an enigmatic little moniker! No wonder we couldn’t find you, no matter how we searched.” 

Not one to eschew decorum, however, she relieved Agnes at last of her scrutiny and turned back to Bellara. “It is a pleasure to meet you both, Bellara Lutara and Lace Harding. You have my deepest gratitude for whatever role you played in reuniting us with our dear Agnes once more.”

Bellara smiled back at Johanna, not quite in on the joke. “Oh, believe me, it took a lot of convincing—”

But Agnes’ hand closed over Bellara’s, squeezing firmly enough to turn her knuckles white, the unspoken directive in the gesture immediately obvious: ‘I am begging you to shut the fuck up . ’

Johanna’s grin only widened, to near cheshire-cat proportions. She leaned forward, pouring herself a cup of tea from the steaming kettle on the table. “The docent who admitted you told me the most fascinating rumor,” she said at last, her voice still in that pitch of near-sadistic sing-song delight. “That you have come looking for our help. That is, the help of the Mourn Watch Guard.”

“That’s not quite the whole story,” Lace said, shifting to sit on the edge of the couch, the better to meet Johanna’s gaze. “We aren’t here to hold our hands out, looking for charity. We want to help you, too. We’re a part of the Veilguard…”

Lace went on, but Emmrich was hardly paying any attention to their exchange. He could not help himself from stealing glances at Agnes—Rook?—out of the corner of his eye. She would not look at him—would not look at anyone. She had at last released Bellara’s hand and folded her own tightly in her lap, and she was staring at the floor, somewhere between her legs. Her legs! In all the years that he had known Agnes, Emmrich had never seen her wear anything but skirts. That she now wore trousers was the most shocking part of her transformation, far more so than the slight wrinkles in her face or the strands of white beginning to weave with the black of her hair. What had happened to her, in the two years that she had been gone? Had they reshaped her into a different person entirely?

“So let me make sure I am understanding correctly,” Johanna said at last, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair, looking directly at Agnes. “You, Agnes Gallatus, want to help me? Assist me, even? A prospect which was apparently unbearable, unthinkable to you two years ago? Maker, how things can change in time.” Then, sliding her eyes to Emmrich (having not failed to notice, he was sure, how he had been unable to keep his eyes off of Agnes since he had seen her) she added, with just as much dry humor, “And yet how many things stay the same. Wouldn’t you agree, Emmrich?”

For the first time since they’d nearly collided in the doorway, Agnes glanced at him, however briefly. Emmrich only locked his eyes on Johanna, praying that Agnes had not also caught him staring. He shrugged, made only a vaguely tortured, noncommittal noise in response. 

Johanna turned back to the others. “Lace Harding, you do not know me, nor do you seem to be fully privy to the drama surrounding Watcher Gallatus’ dishonorable desertion from the Mourn Watch in the first place. So you do not understand the true depth of pleasure it would give me to tell you, Miss Lutara here, and your companion Rook to fuck right off and leave my city, and never return.” 

Bellara blanched at Johanna’s language. For a brief moment, Agnes looked almost hopeful. 

Then Johanna sighed, uncrossing her arms, leaning her elbows on the chair’s armrests and steepling her fingers. “That being said,” she continued, “I cannot deny that patrolling the Necropolis has been an absolute shit show for the last few months.” Johanna’s voice was sober, now, no teasing to be heard in it. “We have lost more Watchers to incidents in the Necropolis in three months than we have in three decades. Our ranks are thinning faster than we can replenish them by training new initiates. In short, we are in over our heads. I am many things, but I am not a fool; and no matter how spiteful I may be, I would not do something so foolish as to refuse help when it is freely offered and so desperately needed.”

“However,” Johanna said, lifting a hand to point up an emphatic finger (and here her voice took a turn for the sharper), “therein lies a dilemma. Because when it comes to you, Agnes Gallatus,” Johanna said, pinning Agnes under her gaze, “the trust has been broken. I am truly and utterly incapable of believing that you, or by extension your associates who are outsiders otherwise unknown to me, will conduct yourselves as instructed and keep me apprised of your progress. And yet, because of how completely fucked we are at the moment, and because of the unique position of leadership in which I find myself, I am truly and utterly incapable of carving out the time or the energy to keep a close eye on you myself.”

Emmrich’s heart had begun to pound against his ribs; he wondered if the rest of them could hear it, frantically beating like a dance drum. 

Agnes was staring at Johanna, her jaw set. He saw by the muscles in her cheeks and her neck that she was grinding her teeth. A strained edge to her voice when she asked, “How do you propose we resolve that dilemma, Commander?”

And at that, the smug note returned to Johanna’s voice. 

“Well, it just so happens I have a solution.” 

And she extended her hand, palm up, to gesture at Emmrich.

“Johanna—” Agnes began to protest.

“Do not,” Johanna said, with a light and deeply unamused laugh, “‘Johanna’ me. We are not friends; we are not even colleagues. You saw to that.” Johanna took a deep breath, regaining control of her composure. Quietly, evenly, she explained: “A long time ago, I recruited you to the Mourn Watch to keep an eye on Emmrich, to make sure he did not get himself into any sort of trouble he couldn’t get himself out of. Emmrich, it is now your chance to return the favor. Is that acceptable to you?”

Immediately it was clear to Emmrich that Johanna had planned this all along, from the moment she had called him down from the study by the sending crystal. That she thought herself terribly clever, pairing the two of them off, making them each other’s problem and no one else’s. As for what he thought of it himself, Emmrich could not say. He could barely wrap his head around the reality that Agnes was here, beside him; the idea of descending with her into the Necropolis again after all of this time was almost too much to fathom.

Taking care to use her new chosen name, Emmrich answered, “I am not confident it is acceptable to Rook.”

Without missing a beat, Johanna snapped right back, “Well Rook and her friends will have to stomach it, because those are the terms.” Then, with a malicious gleam in her eye, Johanna turned to Agnes. “Or if you prefer, I can call Watcher Rolf down here to accompany you instead…?”

For a minute Emmrich thought Agnes was actually considering it. She was not looking at him, but he could see the wheels turning in her head, just the same. Weighing the options. How deeply it cut him! The thought that even after two years, her anger with him was still so fresh that she would prefer the company of a man Emmrich knew well she found to be an intolerable dullard to having to spend even a moment longer with Emmrich himself. Emmrich was not a fool. He did not think for a minute that after all this time and everything he had done to obliterate the bond between them, that any part of Agnes still loved him. Perhaps it was bold of him to hope that she would tolerate him, even just for a few days. But what a blessing it would be! What a pleasure, to discover what sort of woman she had grown into while she had been away from him—even if the years had hardened her into someone who could never forgive him. He did not deserve it. Selfishly, holding his breath, still he hoped for it.

At last, ever so slightly, Agnes dipped her head in Johanna’s direction. 

“Thank you, Commander Hezenkoss. Watcher Volkarin will be an acceptable escort.”

[dirtyhecker]

i'm sure this has been done already in the hours since these images came out, but i think i've got these companion bedrooms sorted

this one is definitely Bellara. everything we've seen of her so far, with the gyroscopey magical stuff, and that one concept art of her with that exact statue head, makes it seem obvious that this is her room. it also looks like she's into art, given all the paintings, and area rugs? what's with all the rolled up rugs, Bellara. i like her little daybed, and i wonder if her vallaslin are supposed to be for Ghilan'nain, given the halla decoration on the wall.

this one has to be Neve. she's got a whole detective conspiracy wall back there, sans the red yarn. there's some real organized chaos going on with the stacks of books, and the scrolls all over the place. i'm pretty sure there's a pot of tea on her desk, and i see several half-burned candles, despite the several magical lamps and pendant lights, not to mention the enormous windows and ambient Fade-light. i wonder if it gets dark out where they are? also her chair looks very fancy, but i don't see a bed anywhere.

this is Taash's room. they've said she's a gym bro, and there is a weight lifting thingy to the right, in front of that pillar. it's weighed down with sacks of flour, it looks like lol. i wonder if its functional, or just static decoration. i also see crates of weapons, and maybe some kind of forge in the bottom right? and right behind that is a pretty barebones bed. maybe she gets cold, because her bed is surrounded by fire. idk what's up with that table on the left, but everything else looks pretty sparse.

this one i think is Harding's room, but only by process of elimination. the metal bars in the window give dwarven vibes for some reason, but i also see a couple elfroot plants. there's a ton of plants, actually, all over the place, but i don't recognize the others. and there's that sad bedroll on the floor, though the rest of the room looks like my kind of place tbh. maybe it's from years spent as a scout, camping in the wilderness. i suppose this could be Bellara's room instead, but i doubt it.

i thought this was Lucanis' room, even before someone pointed out that it was a larder. i know the devs have said he's a good cook, but i didn't think he'd literally want to sleep in a pantry 😭 this makes me think he's just trying to be as unobtrusive as possible or something. there's also zero personal touches, like i zoomed in and that plywood cot is just surrounded by candles. are you okay buddy??

this one seems like Davrin's to me. he's said to be a monster hunter, and there's like a chandelier made of dragon horns or something up there? and a huge spine? plus multiple skulls of large beasts. i don't see a bed but i think it might be in that far corner next to the hearth. also there's a ton of wood carvings. so many. mostly bears and what look to be bobble-headed nugs, and at least one dragon. if Griffon Dad gives me a nug carving i will cry.

lastly, this has to be Emmrich's room. if the giant skeleton statue on the left wasn't enough of a clue, then idk what to tell you. there are basically the exact same ones in the necropolis, but much bigger. this does look like a laboratory, and an extremely well-organized one at that. i imagine Emmrich's bed is up that spiral staircase somewhere. i keep mentioning the beds because i need to know that these people are actually sleeping between quests, ok.

anyway, that's my professional analysis. i love you, goodbye.

[mon-the-lemur]

Thoughts on the new DA:The Veilguard trailer

Here are some thoughts that my friends @hug4tim and @slecnaztemnot and I had watching the trailer in detail.

Black City

I believe this is Rook inside the Black city. It is a ruined version of the Arlathan place from the gameplay reveal trailer. And while that place was golden and relatively untouched, this place is obviously ruined, completely devoid of colour and there are vines growing through it, which look like lyrium veins, presumably blighted.

Teleportation magic

Here we see Elghar'nan jumping out from a void bubble and appearing out of nowhere in front of Ghilan'nain. There was no teleportation magic in the previous games for lore reasons. I believe that now when the veil is torn, we will be seing more previously impossible feats of magic.

Underwater level(s?)

This place is obviously an elven ruin that is now underwater. Most probably the sea and I expect it perhaps off shore from Rivain. Maybe we will also get to swim?

Lyrium mines + Titan eathshaping magic

Here we see an entrance to the inside of a mountain. Based on the doors and the architecture around, it was originally dwarven, but perhaps now used by other peoples (ie dwarven pully systems tend to use way less wood).

Just after this we see the inside of the mine, with lyrium veins running through the cavern.

Following that we get to see Harding petrifying darkspawn.

In my opinion this will be one of Harding's major quests. As far as I know, Harding hasn't really been in the deep roads much. Perhaps when she goes to the lyrium mine, a titan once again stirs due to the torn veil and connects with Harding, giving her stone creating and shaping abilities. She can petrify creatures and it seems also create rock formations:

Morrigan

Our with girl finally changed her wardrobe :D

The crown is obviously the same design as Flemeths. I believe that Morrigan has indeed inherrited Mythal's soul from Flemeth, as was theorized.

Also, as you can see her magic is now much stronger and visually very similar to the elvhen gods' that we have seen.

I also think, that from Morrigan's side it does not matter who drank from the Well, she will have those abilities either way through Mythal herself. In my opinion it will only have consequences for the Inquisitor, who could have some bonuses and issues depending on either choice with the Well in DA:I.

Manfred the walking backpack

Adding this just cause... I mean look at him, he's adorable.

Multiple elvhen gods

This image follows the screenshot with Manfred in the trailer.

It seems to be set in Nevarra's necropolis. And it also looks like there might be a little bit of a cult situation going on.

This image is accompanied by Bellara saying "Our gods are back". That and the "cult" lead me to believe we may be looking at Falon'din.

The armor design looks very similar to Solas' from the prologue. The skeleton has horns on it head, and as per Solas' words on Falon'din, he was vain and loved gaining followers. That to me tracks with what we seem to be shown in the image above.

Also what is up with Ghilan'nain here????

Taash

The person lying down in the sand (?) seems to have horns, one of them made from green crystal. That screams to me that it is Taash. Perhaps this is how we get to meet her. If so, the poor baby always has bad angles in trailers :D

Anderfels

Lucanis' personal quest?

Neve's personal quest?

The man with red lyrium looks like he is wearing similar outfit to Neve, so perhaps a shadow dragon, or maybe even family member.

Irellin and Strife (?)

[queen0fm0nsterz]

What do you think are glitches remains?

This question is so simple on the surface but the second you start looking into it... the implications carried are certainly intriguing.

So. The Glitching Remains are, by definition (and presumed by their name), remnants of the past. They are what's left of someone who has been long gone. If you want a direct comparison somewhere else in the games, the Nomes and the Shadow Children are similar to what the Glitching Remains are supposed to rappresent.

The Nomes are a more... "universal" kind of remain. They are what is left of the body after it is ridden of its identity. They are still the result of death - see as the Lady cracks RK's bones and twists his neck during his transformation - but rather than being spiritual, they are the physical manifestation of it. Nomes have been around for a long time, predating even the Lady herself, so you could use this to point at the fact that this practice of creating/leaving remnants behind has been around for a long time.

(Concept art of RK and the Nomes in the Maw and a screenshot of the Nome in the Necropolis.)

Considering how they are treated in the Maw, I would not be surprised if they were also created to be workers elsewhere. Their number is quite elevated in the Nest - place which is implied to have held large numbers of children in the past - and wa have reason to believe that the Necropolis might have had some Nomes as well.

The Shadow Children are, however, a much more direct comparison to the Glitching Remains. Officially referred to as "the Masked Remains" in their theme, they are a spiritual counterpart of the Nomes: they are what happens when you force a remnant to live outside its body.

(A Masked Remain being blasted away. They are oddly adorable.)

I say "force" because they are not born spontaneously: unlike the Glitching Remains, they need to attach to a physical object to survive even as shadows. Once their mask is destroyed, they don't reform. This is what makes me think that they are not naturally formed, but rather created.

(I also have an ounce as to what their masks are made of... but this is not the time. Still, ever since I saw that petrified child in a cage in the Residence, I have not known peace.)

A parallel is drawn between the Nomes and the S.K. in Very Little Nightmares, where their Jack-In-The-Box can be found next to some Nomes mourning in front of pictures of children - considering the context, presumably their former selves before they got transformed.

(Tears. Many tears.)

The Glitching Remains are similar in spirit, but different in practice. Nothing sways them: they are not weak to light like the Masked Remains are, and they don't need to have a physical object to attach to in order to persist in the physical plane. That being said, they are devoid of freedom: none of the remains we meet walk away from places and some even appear to be "trapped".

Taking this into account: I think the Glitching Remains are the physical manifestation of the strong emotional distress one feels before or during death. Or even a strong emotion in general. I say this because of the many places where the kids are found, implying their untimely deaths, but some of these kids are seen repeating actions which have nothing to do with that. Either way, I think that in nature, they are similar to what the Thin Man is: a "ghost" made of static which carries on thanks to emotion alone. They are not on the same due to the difference in strength, hence why the Thin Man has a more physical body while the remains don't, but the basic idea is the same.

(A few example of Remains who I think are in the place of their death/where their body lies. There is many more, but I picked the ones I think are most obvious.)

Earlier I said that I believe these remains to be formed rather than created: this is because, while we do see Thin Man has the ability to create Remains, the fact that he's been locked up for so long, as well as many of these remains hiding in places unreachable to him, has me reason that most of them are most likely not made by his own hand. Rather, I am currently of the assumption that the air of the Pale City (and surroundings) is so strongly plagued by the power of the Transmission that these Glitching Remains can form on their own.

However, when coming in contact with Mono, his first instinct when coming close to them is to "absorb" them (exact opposite of what the Shadow Kids do with RK, might I add!) and they have no reaction whatsoever, which is another reason for me to think that these Glitching Remains are truly the purest form of remnant we've ever encountered in the franchise. They only do one thing, and that's it. They don't move from their spot and they're not aggressive: they're just a fading memory replicating either their last actions, or their last emotions.

((... Kinda like the Thin Man, on a much lesser scale. Again, these are two sides of the same coin here.))

I think Six not reacting to them at all is also quite interesting. There are a few instances where Mono can absorb them right in front of her and she doesn't seem the least spooked. I wonder if she can even see them to begin with?

[exhausted-archivist]

Do you remember that BioWare Blog Post BioWare Community Update: Writing Our Worlds

I have guesses about the two redacted codices. One I've already mentioned in one of my asks, but I'm going to stick them under the cut for spoilers. But I think, the first two codices of datv we saw were from Emmrich and Taash.

I think this one is Emmrich because we know he was written by Sylvia and this codex is credited to her. And same with the second one, Taash's writer is Trick Weekes and we know they wrote the second one.

Transcript:

Misconceptions about the Necropolis No one has more respect for Brother Genitivi's scholarship than I, but his writing on Nevarra details very little of the practices of the Grand Necropolis. The more I travel, the more I'm convinced these elisions have led to unfortunate conclusions by people of less than generous imagination. For example: we do not "lock up" our dead to pound fruitlessly against their coffins in the dark. Our departed lie in peaceful state, or even wander! The undead tableaux are loving constructions, not "dress-up with corpses." And in the event a malign spirit causes a disturbance, we don't simply "thow them in a tomb and toss the key"! Sometimes I thik [redacted] crafts these questions to tease me. From [redacted]'s diary

Transcription:

[Redacted] Talks: Dragon—Vinsomer Appearance: Dark back and light underbelly. She's hard to see when underwater. Like those whales. Diet: Squid or those big worms that burrow near the shores. Uses her lightening to stun prey. Jaws are more like a beak. Good to grip squishy stuff or crack shells. I think the lightning also helps her see down in the deep water. She does little crackles before she strikes. Behavior: She's hunting more than she needs. She's also not attacking [redacted] unless they get close to her lair. Then she kills them fast. I think she has dragonlings. Must be trying to keep them fed and not look for fights. Only reason a dragon stays that quiet is to protect her kids.

[blueiscoool]

Ancient Roman Elite Necropolis Discovered in Italy

A two-year dig to install a solar power plant near Rome has unearthed an ancient Roman necropolis containing 67 skeletons buried in 57 ornate tombs.

Archaeologists were baffled by the find — thought to date between the second and fourth centuries — not least because the skeletons were discovered wearing golden jewelry and expensive leather footwear, inside tombs designed to resemble their homes.

The discovery, on a 52-acre patch of land close to the ancient city of Tarquinia, north of Rome, was a surprise to authorities, despite the area being renowned for such findings.

Silver rings with amber and engraved initials, precious stones, terracotta pottery, coins, shiny glasses, amulets and even items of clothing were found alongside the golden necklaces and earrings.

“We found several skeletons still wearing their expensive stockings and shoes,” Emanuele Giannini, lead excavation archaeologist at the site said. “All these riches, and the fact that the bones show no sign of stress or physical labor, (leads us to believe) these weren’t local farmers, but upper-crust members of Roman families coming from cities.”

Giannini said techniques of “pre-emptive archaeology” such as field surveys and trial trenches were used to identify potentially ancient constructions below ground.

“We did have a faint idea that some treasure could lie there, as historical sources mentioned the location of a postal station for travelers near the site,” explained Giannini. “Many Romans would stop (here) for the night to eat and rest, but the magnitude of the discovery is unmatched.”

The diversity of funerary objects laid near the remains, and the luxurious designs and linings inside the tombs, have led archaeologists to believe that the occupants wanted to recreate heavenly spaces similar to their earthly homes. The interior of many tombs originally featured elaborate cloth linings, or were surrounded and covered by tiles or terracotta pieces like little houses.

Giannini said another astounding aspect is that most of the discovered tombs were communal — built for at least two occupants who likely shared a family link. A few skeletons were found wrapped around each other.

“Building tombs for entire family nuclei is a typical ancient Roman trait,” he said, “but these are outstanding in their inner decor, which shows wealth and status.”

The shallow tombs were found just 20 inches below the surface — almost popping out of the grass — yet nobody had ever noticed anything peculiar.

The site’s unique state of preservation has been attributed to the fact that “huge limestone blocks that stick out of the ground (made) ploughing, seeding and modern farming impossible in the area,” said Giannini. “It has remained untouched (for) centuries.”

Findings from the dig, which started in 2022, are being preserved as they’re found and many are going on show at the castle of Santa Severa in the coastal town of Santa Marinella. The skeletons however, are being analyzed to determine their origins and will not be put on display until forensic tests have been carried out.

Whatever their genesis, authorities are certain more hidden wonders will come to light as digs for the solar park move to another nearby site.

“We are excavating a huge rural area to redevelop the land and are balancing the need to avoid ruining such unique wonders with the goal of boosting clean energy production,” Margherita Eichberg, art heritage superintendent of the provinces of Viterbo and southern Etruria for Italy’s Culture Ministry said. The area where the necropolis has been discovered will not form part of the solar park and will be cordoned off for safety reasons, without public access.

“This is the fascination and beauty of Italy: Each time there’s a dig, incredible wonders from the past come out of the ground which need to be preserved.”

By Silvia Marchetti.