Oct 11, 2011 01:35
[The man's voice, when he speaks, carries a very distinctive accent. British, maybe? In actuality, it's a ~*Ferelden*~ accent, but hey: easy mistake to make. Furthermore, it's quick and obviously rambling, as though the man is a few shades shy of shrieking screaming in a very manly way.]
No no, this can't be. It was just a pinch, it couldn't have-- "never truly existed"?!
[There's a loud CLANG, as he unceremoniously drops his helm to the floor.]
No way. There's no way. Maker's breath....
[He pauses. A religious man, he is not. Buuut he was raised in a Chantry. And, considering the circumstances....]
And there I saw the Black City,
Its towers forever stain'd,
Its gates forever shut.
Heaven has been filled with--
[Heeeee's just gonna be reciting the Chant of Light. 'Kay? 'Kay.
[The very heavily armored man snaps the journal shut and leaves his room (3138): sword in one hand, shield in the other. He's not exactly quiet, what with the armor and all. And the murmured chanting. Can't forget that.
[APPROACH???]
[ ooc ; all audio/text/video replies will be answered aaaafter he ... looks at his journal again. :|b ]
♔ - disapproves of this,
→ audio,
! in character,
→ commentlog