faderift | i'll come back when you call me, no need to say goodbye. ( open )

To say Skyhold is a lot to get used to is a bit of an understatement — but it's considerably better than life on the road in Ferelden, and Alysanne is not about to start complaining. She has food, and a roof over her head, and a place to sleep even if she's had to do a little work to get that what with how many other people are here.

Most of the time, she can be found in the library, inspecting the Inquisition's collection of books or doing a little research. At other times, she's in the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the greenery. And at yet other times, she's in the tavern, not so much getting drunk as simply people-watching.

She's plainly a mage, dressed in Circle robes and with her staff never more than arm's length away; there are enough other mages here that she doesn't imagine being obvious will attract any undue attention. At least, not more so than usual.

( ooc: it would be helpful to give me some idea of what you're going for when tagging in. c: )

Korrin often visits the garden, not to help with the gardening as much as to visit Sina. She'll stop in to pass on treats, tell stories and in general just check up on her fragile Dalish friend. Departing the tent when it seems that Sina's in need of rest, Korrin lingers to savor a rare moment of quiet before getting back to the routine of her day.

The woman in Circle robes isn't an odd sight, not compared to the tall horned woman also spotting a staff, but Korrin's gaze lingers as she settles on a bench. She's not intimately familiar with every other mage in the area, but this particular woman she can't recall seeing even in passing. That doesn't stop Korrin from nodding politely and speaking up, not at all shy.

"Peaceful, isn't it? I can see why people compete to get a room overlooking the area. It's a nice change from stark mountains all around."

Alysanne is inspecting a particular variety of blooming bush she's not seen before when she notices... oh. She's never... actually met a qunari before, only heard stories. There weren't exactly any in the Circle at Markham, and they're not precisely common in Ferelden.

So while her demeanor isn't shy as such, she might come across a little nervous — even though she tries to disguise it with an amiable smile.

"It's quite something. I wouldn't think somewhere this high up in the mountains would be able to support a garden like this. But... I suppose Skyhold is a bit unusual, isn't it?"

She's trying not to stare. Alysanne is only a little over five feet tall, and Korrin practically towers over her.

Korrin's used to intimidating people, even unintentionally, so any nervousness doesn't offend her. She'll just keep talking until hopefully it's realized that there's no need for it. The Vashoth mage is as much a person as anyone human...only taller. Though she doesn't stand up from the bench, so as to make eye-to-eye contact easier.

"I heard that it used to be an elven site, that their magic permeated the area. If said magic is responsible for providing us with such a boost, I'm not about to complain. We need all the help we can get, especially at our home base."

"Is that so?" Despite herself, the mention of elven magic makes Alysanne curious. What little she knows about the subject is colored by her experience in the Circle, which doesn't exactly teach a favorable view of elves and their magic — but she cannot help but want to know how much of what she learned is true and how much is exaggeration.

"The Inquisition has overcome so much already. I daresay a little cold would hardly stand in their way—" there's a slight flash of humor there, "—but the accommodations certainly don't hurt."

She's had worse, the past few months. There's nothing to complain about.

There's a moment before she realizes that, as wary of Korrin as she still is, she's being rude by not having introduced herself. "Alysanne de Forestière of the Markham Circle. I don't think we've met."

That curiosity prompts a nod, as she can be certain of that information. "It is, though I'm not the expert on this place. You should ask Solas if you're interested, though, he's the one who lead us here; bald elven guy who paints in the lower area of the rotunda." And probably a target for raven poop from the rookery above, but she tries not to think about that.

The introduction is met with a polite smile in turn. "Korrin Ataash, member of the Valo-Kas company and the local Mage Council. Believe me, if you'd been to those meetings, you'd know me. I'm not exactly a wallflower." There's a small self-depreciating grin, as she knows her firm views and temper can often get the better of her. She's making a more concerted effort to rein that in since her talk with Adelaide, but flare-ups still happen.

"I'm also from the Free Marches; nowhere in particular for long, though if I had to pick a city, Wycome might be the closest thing to a home base. But it doesn't matter that much to me. One city's as good as another to the Vashoth traveling to or through it for work."

Alysanne files that information away for future reference; she seems to remember having seen this Solas briefly, once, although that had been when she had first arrived and she hadn't had time to stop and speak with him — or anyone, really.

"Ah, well, there's nothing wrong with being outspoken," she says, echoing that slight grin; she is hardly one to keep to herself either, though she is perhaps a bit less temperamental than Korrin. "But you may have to forgive me a little ignorance, I can't say I'm entirely familiar with… your people. Vashoth?"

She at least has the grace to look slightly abashed when she says it. Someone has lived in the Circle tower for over thirty years and doesn't know much about qunari beyond what she's been told… which wasn't exactly kind. And regardless, Alysanne's never been totally comfortable with not knowing something.

Korrin nods, raising her eyebrows. She's not offended at the Circle's general ignorance; rather, she's impressed that the woman knows that term at all. Most just say 'ox' or qunari, both of which are wrong. "Vashoth, yes. At least I am; it's the term given to those born outside the Qun. Tal-Vashoth are the ones who rebel and leave. At least you know not to call most here Qunari. That...would not go over well. I don't expect many people to be familiar with my kind, especially down south. So, ask whatever you want. At least I can clear up any weird rumors you might have heard."

Kirk found solace in the garden. He couldn't particularly say why, only that he liked it. That, and he tended to meet interesting people here - Galadriel and Christine among them. It was a good place to walk at night too (it seemed a little less shifty than wandering the walls or through the town). Sometimes, though, during the day he just needed time to think and gather himself, his situation feeling a touch overwhelming at times.

It seemed his luck in the garden was continuing when he spotted Alysanne. Naturally a smile spread across his lips and he dipped his head to her in greeting. "M'lady," he said, finding that usually the best way to start a conversation with any woman in this world. "Good day for enjoying the gardens, no?"

The politeness, at least, makes her smile — if only because very few in this world are immediately so polite to obvious mages, even those of some standing.

"It’s very peaceful. I have to say I hadn’t expected to find a place like this in a mountain fortress."

She sits down on a nearby bench, leaving space for him to sit beside her if he wishes.

"Then again, I’ve found there’s quite a lot here that has proven unexpected. The Inquisition seems to have done well for itself."

Many had expected it to fail. It’s… refreshing, in a way, to see that it yet survives.

He couldn't pick out a mage from a regular person - and even if he could, he wouldn't much care. As far as he was concerned, being something did not inherently make you something or someone to fear. Everyone was different, after all.

He sees the opening she has left and inclined his head in thanks, coming to join her on the bench. "The springs help," he mentioned. "I didn't quite see the logic when I was being led her that going further up the mountain would mean a place of warmth, but nature is an interesting thing." He gave her a crooked little smile, one half of his mouth turned up. "As for the Inquisition - that I can't judge. I only just arrived a few months ago."

For anyone native to Thedas, the staff would be a dead giveaway, as would the Circle robes. Alysanne doesn't really make much effort to disguise her status.

"It could be magic of some sort. I wouldn't be surprised."

She leans back against the bench, relaxed despite the presence of a complete stranger. "There were... some difficulties after what happened at Haven, as I understand it. I can't say I know the entire story."

Eventually, he would learn those distinctions. For the moment, they just weren't incredibly important to him. He didn't have the seemingly instinctual fear of mages that so many others seemed to have.

"Well, I'm just in the dark as you are," he shook his head. "I only arrived about two months ago, and the past two months have been mostly about making enough to survive here and wrapping my head around the more high level political stuff going on." He gave a sheepish smile. "So I can't say I'll be much for political discussion, if that's what you're after."

"Oh, not at all," she said, reassuring him. "It can be… complicated, trying to understand it all, between the mages and the templars and the Chantry, let alone the Inquisition itself." She knew a bit about the problems that led to the events that required the formation of the Inquisition — in fact she'd made it her business to be as informed on politics within the Circle and the Chantry as she could — but she wouldn't pretend to be entirely informed on the goings-on here, at least not yet.

Alysanne's gaze sharpened a little as she looked at him; there was just something about his wording that had piqued her interest. "Forgive me if I'm guessing incorrectly, but are you one of the ones they call ‘rifters'?"

It was curious, rather than wary; she was reserving judgment for the time being.

"Yes, that's right. I'm a Rifter, but I would prefer you call me Jim," he smiled charmingly at her, blue eyes sparking with a unique form of sincerity. "I think I must be getting better at fitting in, since you didn't seem to notice right away. Not that I was intentionally trying to deceive you or anything!" He gave a light chuckle.

"I come from a world called Earth." Since that was usually the next question.

When Teren doesn't have her makeshift sewing shop set up on the second level, she will often come to the tavern just to have a meal away from the damp cold that is the Warden camp.
It's rare to see many women her own age around, as the majority are likely choosing to stay off in their respective homesteads in Thedas, leaving the fighting and the world-changing to the grizzled warriors and the foolhardy young. But there's one, and Teren can't help but take note of her.

She comes over to Alysanne, holding her mug and gesturing to an empty chair. "Mind if I join you?" she asks, her smile a bit wry.

Alysanne is sitting at the table, her staff leaning off to one side, with a glass of spiced wine in front of her that she managed to wheedle out of the barkeep. It's not the Orlesian vintage she would probably prefer — but it is the best she's likely to get, at least for the time being, and she supposes she can't afford to be choosy.

She is a little startled, but certainly not unpleasantly so, to see a woman close to her own age approaching her table. Most of the people here seem young, or at least younger than she is, and though that in itself isn't necessarily a problem, she'd be lying had she said she didn't prefer the company of those closer to her own age.

"Not at all," she says, with a bright flash of a smile. "Please, have a seat. I was just… hmm, taking in the ambiance, I suppose." A little joking, that; a tavern is really the last place one might come for anything resembling ambiance. But she still likes people-watching.

Teren scoffs, but with a smirk. "The ambiance," she repeats, as though that in itself is a joke. She sets her mug down and seats herself, glancing out at the tavern before angling her head toward Alysanne. "Senior Warden Teren von Skraedder," she says, holding out her hand, "Teren is fine, I understand it's a bit of a mouthful."

i'll come back when you call me, no need to say goodbye. ( open )

( open to all )

Garden, meet and greet time?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Before leaving for Western Approach - Garden?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Tavern

no subject

no subject