[ACTION; 1761 Beaver Street]
[Marian Hawke doesn't always check the mail, but when she does, it's a regain.
But when she opens up the mailbox on this fine Friday afternoon, it isn't a weapon or some armor or even a stale mabari crunch that she discovers. It's... pieces of parchment. Lots and lots and lots of parchment. They actually start falling out of the mailbox the moment she opens it up. For a short moment, she looks confused by this sudden abundance of paper, until she catches one and skims over the words written on it.]
"Andraste suffered at the hands of magisters; thus, she feared the influence of magic..."
[YEP. It's a bunch of Anders's old manifestos.]
Oh, for Andraste's sake... I wasn't really looking to fill this house with these as well, but thank you for the little piece of home, Mayfield.
[Sighing, she kneels down and starts gathering the fallen manifestos, but the wind has scattered them all over the front yard and sidewalk by now. The dog eventually comes over to help, though he's more interested in rolling around in them than cleaning up, of course.
Approach/help/steal one? She won't miss it.]
[PHONE; filtered to Anders]
[As usual, her voice is light and playful.]
Found something of yours! Some things, actually, and I am officially holding them hostage. You ought to come over and pay the ransom, if you ever want to see them again.
[Marian Hawke doesn't always check the mail, but when she does, it's a regain.
But when she opens up the mailbox on this fine Friday afternoon, it isn't a weapon or some armor or even a stale mabari crunch that she discovers. It's... pieces of parchment. Lots and lots and lots of parchment. They actually start falling out of the mailbox the moment she opens it up. For a short moment, she looks confused by this sudden abundance of paper, until she catches one and skims over the words written on it.]
"Andraste suffered at the hands of magisters; thus, she feared the influence of magic..."
[YEP. It's a bunch of Anders's old manifestos.]
Oh, for Andraste's sake... I wasn't really looking to fill this house with these as well, but thank you for the little piece of home, Mayfield.
[Sighing, she kneels down and starts gathering the fallen manifestos, but the wind has scattered them all over the front yard and sidewalk by now. The dog eventually comes over to help, though he's more interested in rolling around in them than cleaning up, of course.
Approach/help/steal one? She won't miss it.]
[PHONE; filtered to Anders]
[As usual, her voice is light and playful.]
Found something of yours! Some things, actually, and I am officially holding them hostage. You ought to come over and pay the ransom, if you ever want to see them again.
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