#sundermount

CONFESSION:

[This is part of the series “Playing DA like an archaeologist”]

Sundermount is the tallest mountain in the Vimmarks and has a fearsome reputation. Legend says it was the site of a vicious battle where the ancient Tevinter Imperium and the elves of Arlathan unleashed horrors into the waking world, and creatures prowl the heights to this very day, unaware that the war for which they were summoned is long since over.

Let’s start with the fourth villager in Kirkwall: Kallis! She’s wearing Zevran’s Armor and her home is nestled deep in the forests on Sundermount.

I opted for some natural exterior elements - log cabin walls, grass roof, etc. It may not be an aravell, but I think the elves would approve.

The main room is my approximation of the elven camp at Sundermount. I’ve used a daisy meadow and a summit wall, and the giant mountain in the corner kinda drives the theme home, huh?

In the corner we have Master Ilen’s shop, with some ore for crafting his wares. I know he’s more of an ironwood fan, but sometimes all you can find is iron.

The mannequin here is also wearing Zevran’s Armor, but they’re not meant to be Zevran. I’m realizing at exactly this moment that Merithari’s Robes would have been a better choice. Hmmm, guess I know which pattern is next!

To the right we have the Deep Roads! That small dungeon area accessed at the back end of the Sundermount map. The lava wall really gave it that glowy, ominous effect.

To the left is the Storm Coast. The mannequin here isn’t wearing anything custom, but the cow skull hat gives him a Qunari vibe. Add in lots of rocks and terrain to hide behind!

The back room, and the rest of the rooms, aren’t technically in Sundermount. This is Merrill’s house though, so it fits thematically! Her Lowtown home in the alienage is rundown but fairly full of stuff. Have you seen all her cheese??

So much cheese. And an impressive fireplace!

And of course a mirror...

Upstairs is Fenris’ estate. Or, well, the estate he took over. Shockingly ACNL doesn’t have a lot of broken bottles, corpses, and general debris to choose from, so I made some choices. I mix and matched Sloppy furniture and Gorgeous furniture for that “fancy in decay” vibe his place has.

Some art, and very shabby floor & wall.

A giant sword, because Fenris.

In the basement I made a spooky graveyard, party because I ran out of identifiable areas to create, and partly because it’s not a Dragomn Age game without a spooky graveyard. This one could be the one on top of Sundermount. Just...ignore that I put it underneath my Sundermount.

I love these bone piles.

Dream Address for Kirkwall: 4C00-0022-58C0

Patterns used in this house

Zevran’s Leather Armor

Merrill’s Vestments of the First

Kirkwall is guarded by mountains to its north, the tallest of which is Sundermount. The mountain has a fearsome reputation. Legend says it was the site of the final battle between the Tevinter Imperium of old and the ancient empire of elves that perished with Arlathan. Both sides unleashed horrors into the waking world, and Fade creatures prowl the heights to this very day, unaware that the war for which they were summoned is long since over.

There is a tale in the Free Marches that Blessed Andraste, upon reaching Kirkwall with her armies, sojourned up the slopes of Sundermount alone. She stayed there three days. When she returned, she wept as if her heart were broken.

I stayed two months in Kirkwall, and despite my best efforts, I never found a single guide willing to take me up to mountain.

Made a note of all of this since I write Merrill so often -- sat and listened to it all waiting a good few hours for it all to trigger in my game -- and thought it might be useful for anyone else writing Merrill / Clan Sabrae to refer to! 

Perhaps I’ll provide a map of where each elf in these dialogues is standing, but that will have to be for another day. There’s... a lot of dialogues. 

Chandan: So this is it, then? You’re leaving us? Merrill: We might see each other again, Chandan. Chandan: We all mourned Tamlen, Merrill. You don’t have to mourn him forever. 

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Radha: Pol, are you busy?  Pol: No, of course not. Not too busy for you.  Radha: I thought maybe you could use some archery lessons. Private ones.  Pol: I think my aim is hopeless, Radha.  Radha: Well, why don’t we go somewhere alone and try to fix that?  Pol: Oh! Ah… that’s a great idea. My gear is on the other side of…  Radha: Leave it. You won’t need it. 

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Chandan: Aneth ara, Maren. Maren: How was the hunting today, Chandan? Chandan: Slow, I’m afraid. I saw three chipmunks the entire day. Maren: Were they at least cute chipmunks? Chandan: Not as cute as you. 

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Chandan: Something wrong, Pol? Pol: You could say that. I think Master Ilen is going to murder me. Chandan: Because of the ironwood? Have you thought of going to the Keeper and begging for amnesty?

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Junar: It really wasn’t your fault you know. Maren: Ma serannas, Junar. It feels like my fault, though. Junar: We can get more halla. Maren: It won’t be the same. 

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Chandan: Is it my imagination, or is Master Ilen’s temper getting worse with time? Radha: It’s not that much worse. Chandan: You weren’t there this morning when he threatened to hang Pol upside down from an aravel.

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Chandan: Is it true you’re leaving? Merrill: I’ll miss all of you. Chandan: Wherever you go, Merrill, go forward. Don’t dwell on Mahariel anymore. 

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Hahren Paivel: For someone who insists that she has chosen to leave, you certainly can’t seem to stay away, Merrill.  Merrill: Don’t get your smallclothes in a twist, Hahren. I’m leaving again soon enough. 

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Male elf 1 (likely Harshal): This mountain is cursed, I swear. Three days in a row that I’ve shot at and missed deer!  Female elf 1 (likely Ineria): Maybe it’s not the mountain. Maybe it’s just you that’s cursed, my love.  Male elf 1/Harshal: You always know just what to say to put my mind at ease(!) 

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Chandan: Maren, I brought you something. Maren: Oh, really? Chandan: I picked them while I was hunting. Not a lot of game, but plenty of wildflowers. Maren: That’s very sweet, Chandan. 

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Pol: I think… I’ve made this wrong. Female elf 2: It doesn’t look that bad. What’s it supposed to be? Male elf 2: If you can’t tell what it is, it’s rubbish. Female elf 2: Hush! Pol: It’s meant to be a bowl. Female elf 2: Oh! Um… it’s a little flat for a bowl, perhaps? Male elf 2: Told you so. 

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Pol: Couldn’t you talk to him for me? Please? Female elf 1 (likely Ineria): He doesn’t bite, Pol. Just tell him you made a mistake. Pol: I ruined a piece of ironwood. It’s not a ‘mistake’ to Master Ilen. That’s like committing murder! Female elf 1/Ineria: At least it’s not a hanging offence. You can do this! Be brave! 

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Master Ilen: What are you doing? Work with the grain of the wood, not against it! Male elf 2: Sorry, Master Ilen. Female elf 2: I told you that you were doing it wrong. Male elf 2: Shut up! 

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Master Ilen: Don’t hold the chisel like that! You’ll cut off your thumb! Female elf 2: Yes, Master Ilen. Male elf 2: I wish you would. Female elf 2: If either of us is likely to cut themselves, it’s you. Master Ilen: That’s enough! More working, less talking! 

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(Triggered by Fenarel walking over, if the Hero of Ferelden was a Dalish elf)   Chandan: I know Merrill was fond of Mahariel, but it’s been a year. That’s not healthy.  Radha: Brooding over the loss of Mahariel is the least disturbing thing she’s done. 

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(Dialogue with Master Ilen)

Master Ilen: Oh… Merrill. So you’ve returned. How has your time been among the shemlen? Merrill: (sarcastically) It’s been nothing but roses and rainbows, Master Ilen. The alienage is lovely in the spring. The collapsing shacks and drunken brutes are nicely offset by the knee-deep mud. Master Ilen: This path has been of your own choosing, Merrill. A path that has saddened the clan greatly. Merrill: Perhaps if the clan was more accepting of the ancient ways and not so mired in fear… Master Ilen: Enough! We will not bicker like children in front of strangers. We cannot undo what has been done.  Master Ilen: (to Hawke) My apologies for that display. Perhaps we can start again? I am Master Ilen, a crafter for this clan. Forced to stay so close to this shemlen city, I’ve seen my share of outsiders pass through our camp. Is there something you needed? Hawke: Are you a specialist? What sort of things do you make? Master Ilen: A Dalish crafter does many things. We create weapons, armour, anything our clan has need of. Hawke: I don’t need anything right now. Master Ilen: Of course. 

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(said to Hawke, on walking into these NPCs / clicking on them) 

Dalish hunter: Conclude your business with Keeper Marethari, shemlen, and be gone from here. / The sooner you all leave this place, the better.

Fenarel: If you’re wise, you’ll stay far away from Merrill. No sane person will touch what she’s taken up.

Maren: A shemlen? Will wonders never cease?

Pol: Er… Andaran atish’an, stranger.

Junar: Shemlen. Wonderful. Make your business here quick.

Terath: Watch your step, shem. You don’t know how many Dalish arrows are trained on you right now. 

CONFESSION:

CONFESSION: