DavidAU/Gemma-3-12b-it-MAX-HORROR-Imatrix-GGUF
Alistair: “We’re experienced adventurers with a penchant for unusual beverages.” He shrugs. “And Emma does make a mean apple pie, too.”
User: does Emma’s pie also contain hallucinogens
Morrigan: “My dear Warden appreciates…the unexpected.”
Alistair: “She likes surprising people. It keeps things interesting.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Sometimes too interesting.”
the (origins) Wardens have been missing for over 10 years. where are they?? is someone looking for them?
Alistair: Hey, don't get all ominous on us. Emma and I doing alright, thanks. Just wandering, seeing new places, getting into trouble. You know, the usual, except also Emma’s been trying to teach me herbalism. That's been a fun learning experience.
really, herbalism? well, you got the dex for it. how's that goin?
Morrigan: Dexterity is hardly the sole requirement for botanical study. Patience, meticulous observation, a willingness to endure noxious fumes…are all equally vital.
Alistair: I *am* patient and observe things, occasionally. Things like Emma yelling at me about not crushing the rare moonpetal. and It's going okay, I suppose. I mostly make tea now. Very potent tea.
what does the potent tea do??
Morrigan: That is information I believe you are not yet privy to. Let us simply say it has...interesting properties.
Alistair: Yeah, interesting. Like making you see little dancing squirrels. Or forget where you left your sword. Don't tell anyone.
do you enjoy seeing little dancing squirrels?
Morrigan: "Dancing squirrels? please, I beg of you..." she sighs.
Alistair: It's simple really. You know, believe in something good, try to do good. Besides, somebody needs to keep an eye on dark magic.
Morrigan: 'Dark magic,' you say? Certainly there are more efficient means than your swords and brute force.
no better way to defeat a blight in 2-4 years than a fuck ton of dark magic and incredibly potent teas
Morrigan: Your 'fuck ton' of enthusiasm is…refreshing, however crass.
Alistair: See? She likes you.
Morrigan: The Fade is but one thread of the Weave. There are other threads.
Alistair: I’ll stick to brewing tea, thanks.
who was Areli?
Morrigan: Areli? A fleeting memory from a bygone era. A student with a penchant for illusions.
Alistair: (avoids eye contact) Yeah, she was… Emma mentioned her. Sad, really.
I was told she died, but then that she went apostate. what's the truth?
Morrigan: (hesitates) Especially when dealing with memories and whispers, let us simply say that circumstances are often more complex than we might wish to remember.
Alistair: (sarcasm) Woah, Morrigan, can you be less dramatic? You're scaring the squirrels.
Alistair: I was at the Circle as a Templar recruit, undergoing training. It was…pretty intense, as you can imagine. And Emma…she was there, really focused, serious about her studies, mostly kept to herself. But she had these dark and curious eyes. Always looking around, absorbing everything.
in Chantry's dedicates, it's written an Amell child was taken in after showing talents in primal magic. many believe this Amell child is the same as Emelyn, the Hero of Ferelden-- is it true?
Morrigan: The Amells are an ancient bloodline, rumored to possess a unique sensitivity to the elements. Their legacy is shrouded in myth and speculation. If Emelyn descends from that line…
Alistair: (Frowning) Amells? Never heard of them. Are they some kind of noble family? Wait, why wouldn't she tell me?
Morrigan: (small smile)
Alistair: What difference does it even make, anyway?
Morrigan: Dedicates are notoriously unreliable. Prone to embellishment, riddled with inaccuracies. But the sheer persistence of this rumour…
Alistair: "Sounds like a lot of dusty paperwork," and potentially dangerous secrets, "but if it has something to do with Emma," or will help him find her, "I'm in."
Morrigan: Our relationship was… complex, but respectful. My departure...it was abrupt, yes. Necessary, however. The needs of the Grey Wardens and Ferelden demanded stability. My presence would have only been a distraction.
Alistair: Emma missed you. She always asked about you. Wondered where you were, what you were doing.
mradermacher/Qwen3-33B-A3B-Stranger-Thoughts-IPONDER-i1-GGUF
Alistair’s voice: dry wit, passive-aggressive commentary, and simmering guilt masked by sarcasm. His thoughts balance irritation with camaraderie.
So here we are, knee-deep in another glorious disaster. Honestly, if the darkspawn aren’t enough of a headache, there’s always the delightful company of so-called soldiers wielding axes like they’re dancing at a tavern.
Emma’s staring at me like I’ve just confessed to stealing the Chantry’s last loaf of bread. Please, she thinks. Play more strategically. Of course she does. Because nothing says “team player” like a mage who casually blows up half the place and expects the others to dodge shrapnel like it’s a bloody circus act.
And don’t even get me started on Jory. That prat.
“Send him first,” she’d said, irritated I didn't want to just use him as bait. Well, what was the point? Now he’s a smear on the stone.
That dwarf tank’s swinging his axe like it’s a sword, not a blunt instrument. Emma? What’s the deal with that spell, anyway? It smells awful.
“For the Grey Wardens!” I shout, because apparently that’s the rallying cry now. I’m just here because… well, someone has to try and keep these people from getting gutted.
The darkspawn are coming. Again. And I swear, if someone asks me what the plan is, I’m going to scream.