1st Audio // Action

[3wayforjustice]

[The voice is distant, as if the speaker is unaware of the recording -- which he probably isn't.]

... I... what?

[Rustling -- feathers? Footsteps.]

This is no building in Kirkwall... it's too... Nothing's on fire.

[A door opens. More footsteps, walking away from the journal. Followed closely by a shout--]

Andraste's burning backside!

[-- and running footsteps. The door slams. Anders has discovered the spiders, and made a wise choice to hide in his room. This is your mage hero, Keep.]

Comments

[Audio]

[iwannabeadragon.livejournal.com]

[Oh hey he knows that scared screaming.]

It's about time you showed up. I've been here for weeks. Kirkwall must be rubble by now.

Where are the others?

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

[Oh he does not scream. Except for that surprised little yelp right there.]

... Hawke? Where--!

[Check the journal, Anders.]

[Audio]

[iwannabeadragon.livejournal.com]

[So very brave Anders.]

You might want to try checking the book.

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

Book?

[More footsteps. The book is picked up.]

You mean this? How does a book have anything to do with... anything?

[Video]

[iwannabeadragon.livejournal.com]

[And now Hawke will just switch it to video.]

I don't know, you tell me.

[Video]

[3wayforjustice]

[Hawke will be treated to a video feed of Anders looking like the book bit him, and then the ceiling as he drops the book.]

What magic is this?

[Audio]

[iwannabeadragon.livejournal.com]

[Hawke laughs and switches it back to audio. Mission accomplished!]

You're the mage here. Shouldn't you know?

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

[Hush, Hawke, your healer is distracted by RESEARCH.]

Yes... maybe. Some sort of scying enchantment... I've never seen anything like this.

[Audio]

[iwannabeadragon.livejournal.com]

Well now you have.

[Blah blah blah magic blah blah blah don't care.]

Now where are the others?

[Let's get this rescue going!]

[Audio]

[gotyourwallet.livejournal.com]

...Something the matter?

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

Spiders! And I thought the ones in the Deep Roads were ba--

[Hold up. Where is that voice coming from.]

... Who's there?

[Audio]

[gotyourwallet.livejournal.com]

[...]

I don't recognize your voice. A new arrival then. My name is Vie. If you look around, there should be a journal nearby.

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

[Please excuse the mage a moment, Vie, he's looking.]

Ah, there...

Vie? Where is this place? It can't be Fereldan. I can't smell any wet dog...

[Audio]

[gotyourwallet.livejournal.com]

No, not Fereldan. You're in the Keep of a man called Deior. A Lord, apparently.

[Small pause. Vie frowns at the journal.]

What's a dog? ...And what's your name, for that matter?

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

A lord? Of what? Or... where, specifically.

A dog. You know. A dog. The polar opposite of cat.

[Audio]

[gotyourwallet.livejournal.com]

Lord of Holloway's Keep. Location? How should I know. The information given as to where this castle is, is rather limited. In the front of your journal is a letter. I'd suggest you read it.

[Vie stops there to frown at the dog and cat comparison.]

And you might as well be making up words. 'Dog' and 'Cat' are not in my vocabulary.

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

Right. A letter. Because mysterious letters in talking books are always trustworthy. Like voices in your head.

[Anders... the lady asked you a question a minute ago. He stops a moment, as well.]

... It's Anders. And, I am not making up words. "Cat" is a perfectly normal word to know.

[Text]

[thii2ii22tupiid]

your home ii2 alway2 on fiire?

audio;

[3wayforjustice]

[What. Does. That even say. About half of that is legible.]

What?

[Text]

[thii2ii22tupiid]

your home. aflame.

[Audio]

[3wayforjustice]

Only once every three years, it seems like.

[Text]

[thii2ii22tupiid]

*Ah, that implies that its not regular*

certaiinly 2ounds fun.

Audio

[3wayforjustice]

... Can you speak? Your handwriting is awful.

[Text]

[thii2ii22tupiid]

really? no one'2 ever giiven me trouble for iit before.

Audio

[3wayforjustice]

I find that exceedingly difficult to believe.