#wittyrogue / thread.

[anecdotist]

@nobroth continued from here

"What would I choose?" Zevran hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know."

His smile curled easily, softly. "A bit of an easy exit, I know."

Slowly walking around the table, he paused at the chair opposite of Alistair's where the queen would sit. Had sat. Refined, beautiful, and absolutely deadly. She'd have been extremely popular in Antiva. And successful, too, no doubt. Zevran lightly ran his fingers over the back of the seat, trailing the tops of the carvings. "The only advice I have to give would be this: you should trust those who listen to you. Trust those who make an effort to work alongside you."

His pace carried him on around the table, pausing briefly behind Eamon's chair. He did not touch it, for fear that the wretched snake's poison would rub off on him. "Do not trust those who undermine you. Belittling you or your thoughts is not loyalty. It is manipulation."

And he would know. The Crows were masters of the game--praising one in the same breath as admonishing another. The masters pit everyone against each other, assassins vying for praise and prestige that would never be theirs. And it was all for the benefit of the Talons.

As he neared Alistair again, he gave an easy smile. "You're a good man, Alistair, with a good head on your shoulders to match. You should trust yourself more. Follow your heart and your convictions--perhaps they'll lead you astray, but you'll rest easier at night knowing you are still yourself, under your glittering crown and finery."

[anecdotist]

zevran arainai - #wittyrogue

zevran arainai is an antivan crow sent to kill the few remaining wardens in ferelden during the fifth blight. he fails in such a spectacular way, his life forever changed as he turns his focus to antagonizing his former employers.

link to full bio. list of all verses.

tags

main character tag - wittyrogue

headcanon - wittyrogue / headcanon.

aesthetic - wittyrogue / aes.

answers - wittyrogue / answer.

threads - wittyrogue / thread.

verse info - wittyrogue / verse info.

ships

@thanatologie - exclusive - wittyrogue / thanatologie / unable are the loved to die for love is immortality.

[thanatologie]

BOTH EYEBROWS ARCHED UPWARD AND WHILE HE SUPPOSED THAT RESPONSE WAS TO BE EXPECTED - he imagined most would be unlikely to wish a jovial chat with one's killer, and perhaps even less inclined to be polite to the person that allowed that meeting to take place - he doubted chiding such a breach of manners was conducive to retrieving the information Zevran had desired enough to lead him to deposit this unfortunate individual on Emmrich's slab.  

“A lesson in manners is perhaps…A well-meaning, but misplaced, use of time?”  These things were, as it so happened, on a time limit, and wasting time quibbling over (somewhat justified, he supposed, even if he understood this particular gentleman had been what could very generously be called a ne'er-do-well in life ) foul attitudes simply depleted the already running hourglass.  Eventually Emmrich would have to release him once more, back to the quiet of the grave, to the beyond, whether Zevran had collected his prize or not.

The man's essence, such as it was, squirmed in his grasp, and he tightened his hold.  “Firmly, Zevran, firmly.  Direct.”  He paused a moment.  “And I would recommend avoiding getting too close, I can't guarantee this one won't bite.”

The corpse gurgled, something not quite a laugh but akin to the percolation of fluid bubbling in the lungs.  “Haste would be appreciated.”

"You are making this sound less like an interrogation and more like... well, the time I had to speak to a tree that spoke in nothing but riddles and rhyme." Technically he'd just been part of the party that had spoken to said tree, but he'd still had to bear witness to it's rhyming.

"Firm and clear. I can do that." Zevran moved so he was standing across the stone slab from Emmrich, his arms held loosely at his sides. Relaxed, almost. When the body before them twitched and convulsed as the spirit returned, he didn't flinch. Instead he breathed deeper, purposefully calming himself.

He'd seen the dead rise by themselves during The Fifth Blight, all the way in Redcliffe. Then, they'd been mindless zombies, intent on murdering anything alive they could get their undead hands on. What he saw here and now, though, was different. Emmrich's control was impeccable, keeping the spirit present yet the body still. A master of his craft.

"Fuck off."

Zevran frowned, leaning forward. "Well, that's no way to speak to your host. Especially a charming and polite one like Emmrich. Perhaps you should reconsider."

"Fuck. Off. Assholes."

@thanatologie

[moved-to-thanatologie]

"Fear not, we'll assure all of your hard work wasn't for naught." He was, if he were being perfectly candid, starting to wonder if every Crow from Antiva had made it their personal mission to bring him their dead, to pry out final pieces of information, and if it were perhaps Lucanis he had to thank for the pleasure of the Black Shadow's presence...Or if perhaps the novelty of a corpse whisperer outside of Nevarra was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up. Either way, here he found himself with yet another body on the slab in preparation for the attempt to get them to speak.

"I must warn you, however, this is not what one would call an exact science." He straightened from his cursory examination of the body, folding his hands before him. "What seems important to the living no longer may hold value to the dead. Things can become less distinct and harder to discern the meaning of, once a soul has departed for whatever lies beyond."

He raised both hands, and ethereal green light traced the intricate movements of his fingertips. "Be firm, but be clear, with your questions. If they will not answer your inquiries, they will answer mine."

Possibly. Probably.

"Let flame rekindle your sight. Let breath and light rise again." A momentary pause, and the body before them gave a pained, dry wheeze, limbs having released from rigor mortis previously moving in ways unnatural to the living. "That which you wished to obscure to hide an unfaithful heart. Where did you secret it away."

@archilich liked for a starter

Zevran peered around the necromancer's waist, taking a peek at the corpse laid out before him. "I worked very hard to kill this man. Very unfortunate to see we need him to come back." He walked to the other side of the table, looking curiously at Emmrich. "So how does this work? Do you ask the questions, or am I? Because, as this man's killer, I do not think he and I are on, ah, speaking terms."