[Shael waves his hand nonchalantly, snorting derisively.]
Guilt is an emotion I'm all too familiar with. What's a little more?
[Taliesin's question mulls around in Shael's head while he absently watches him top off his glass. The fact of the matter is that he did mind him asking. Very much so. He'd already divulged the situation surrounding one of the darkest, most profoundly impacting moments of his life and he really had no desire to share information about the rest of it.
It was clear to see that the Inquisitor meant well for the most part. He wasn't prying to make him uncomfortable. It seemed like he simply wanted to know what made him tick. Why he did what he did, how he learned magic outside of the Circle. He was a man who liked to stay informed with facts and not wild rumors. It was, as he had already told him, the desire to know just what sort of people were in the Inquisition. His Inquisition.
Struggling with the desire to outright tell Taliesin off for his continued questioning, Shael shifts uncomfortably in his seat, mild annoyance slowly starting to replace his downtrodden expression. He's starting to feel as if he's talking to Leilith. A Leilith who he has to answer. It's wearing thin, to say the least, but he doesn't have much of a choice. He was conscripted into this Inquisition. The only reason he's here and not a rotting corpse is by the grace of the man in front of him.
If he were anyone else this conversation would have ended before it started.]
No, no, nothing so absurd. I happened across a small band of apostates a few weeks after I left Denerim. Rather... they found me. I learned from them.
no subject
Guilt is an emotion I'm all too familiar with. What's a little more?
[Taliesin's question mulls around in Shael's head while he absently watches him top off his glass. The fact of the matter is that he did mind him asking. Very much so. He'd already divulged the situation surrounding one of the darkest, most profoundly impacting moments of his life and he really had no desire to share information about the rest of it.
It was clear to see that the Inquisitor meant well for the most part. He wasn't prying to make him uncomfortable. It seemed like he simply wanted to know what made him tick. Why he did what he did, how he learned magic outside of the Circle. He was a man who liked to stay informed with facts and not wild rumors. It was, as he had already told him, the desire to know just what sort of people were in the Inquisition. His Inquisition.
Struggling with the desire to outright tell Taliesin off for his continued questioning, Shael shifts uncomfortably in his seat, mild annoyance slowly starting to replace his downtrodden expression. He's starting to feel as if he's talking to Leilith. A Leilith who he has to answer. It's wearing thin, to say the least, but he doesn't have much of a choice. He was conscripted into this Inquisition. The only reason he's here and not a rotting corpse is by the grace of the man in front of him.
If he were anyone else this conversation would have ended before it started.]
No, no, nothing so absurd. I happened across a small band of apostates a few weeks after I left Denerim. Rather... they found me. I learned from them.