That's how it works in Thedas - where I'm from. Monks or anybody paid well enough with hand muscles of steel writes copies of books. Even mine, although I would bet money that no monk ever copied a book of mine. My publisher handles all that and she would probably spontaneously combust if she walked into a Chantry.
[He likes her, but she's literally in a criminal gang, so it's true.]
You don't know what it feels like? A lot of people would be jealous of that.
Let me see... Pain is your body crying out to you to stop doing what you're doing. It has a lot of tones of voice depending on what you're doing and how intense it is. Sometimes it just grumbles dully, or nags you with its whiny voice. But there's pain that's like scraping a sword on stone, you know the way the sound makes you wince? It can throb, stab, wash over you like acid.
Sometimes it grounds you and lets you think clearly enough to act when you need to. Sometimes it's so intense your body doesn't know what it's feeling, it just screams at you to stop.
no subject
[He likes her, but she's literally in a criminal gang, so it's true.]
You don't know what it feels like? A lot of people would be jealous of that.
Let me see... Pain is your body crying out to you to stop doing what you're doing. It has a lot of tones of voice depending on what you're doing and how intense it is. Sometimes it just grumbles dully, or nags you with its whiny voice. But there's pain that's like scraping a sword on stone, you know the way the sound makes you wince? It can throb, stab, wash over you like acid.
Sometimes it grounds you and lets you think clearly enough to act when you need to.
Sometimes it's so intense your body doesn't know what it's feeling, it just screams at you to stop.