Bramen leaned a little against Dorian, smiling a bit at the familiar warmth. He closed his eyes for a moment, smiling a little to himself. "It's kind of you to say," he began, "But we don't need a necromancer. This is where my people find their comfort, just like many humans take comfort in worshipping Andraste and the Maker." He opened his eyes, looking fondly up at Dorian. He knew the man wouldn't try and force anything in his people. He took the opportunity to pat Dorian's hand and eased himself upright again, no longer leaning against the man.
"Mihya was Haren Taehel's daughter," he began, "She was a mage, like Meallan. The Keeper's second. She preferred to focus on alchemy and healing. She was a good woman, a good friend." He looked back to Falon'Din's statue, reaching out to hold its hand again and squeezing the stone.
"We were ten when she was betrothed to me..." he worried his bottom lip a little, "And she was twelve when she found herself walking at his side."
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Date: 2015-02-23 11:55 pm (UTC)"Mihya was Haren Taehel's daughter," he began, "She was a mage, like Meallan. The Keeper's second. She preferred to focus on alchemy and healing. She was a good woman, a good friend." He looked back to Falon'Din's statue, reaching out to hold its hand again and squeezing the stone.
"We were ten when she was betrothed to me..." he worried his bottom lip a little, "And she was twelve when she found herself walking at his side."