faderift | OPEN: this will be a better year

OPEN: this will be a better year

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: First Day
WHEN: Wintermarch 1 (forward-dated)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Scouts from both the Western Approach and Emprise du Lion are welcome (but not required) to have returned to Skyhold in time for this event.

There have been better First Day feasts, and less crowded ones, and cheerier ones. It isn't a good year for many to look back on, and this one isn't starting any better. Reports from both Eastern and Western Orlais are grim. Many in the Inquisition can't afford to take more than a few hours away from their work, if that.

But for those who can, the ambassador does her best. At lunchtime some tables, hot food, and finery are reserved for visiting nobility and wealthy pilgrims--cause for grumbling in some quarters, perhaps, but they're the people filling the Inquisition's coffers, and allowances must be made--but there's plenty of stew, bread, and ale for everyone, even with the soldiers and refugees who stay outside the fortress invited inside for the holiday. The recently repaired garden and its carefully tended plants aren't off limits, but anyone noisy and holding a drink will be stopped at the door; the battlements, with their potential for deadly falls, are blocked by Inquisition guards. But the courtyards brim with people, most of them happy despite the possibility that the world might end before another First Day arrives.

If the courtyards are too full of tipsy visitors for comfort, there's also the valley beyond the fortress, expansive, barren, and covered in snow. By the river the soldiers help the refugees make a bonfire larger than would ever be allowed inside Skyhold's walls, and some lend their shields to use as sleds down the embankments. A group of scouts start the most intense game of hide and seek Thedas has ever seen, with snowballs to the face for whoever is found first. In the camp, a refugee girl with her hand wrapped in a green scarf chases other children around the tents, shouting raaar, I'm from the rifts!

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In her dark gown, she could easily be mistaken for one of the nobility if not for avoiding them and other distinguished company as if they had the plague. They'd be better company if they did, they'd be gone far quicker. At least it means she can snag the good wine though growing up in the wilds means you're just glad to have food and drink, not caring too much about the quality.

She spots Twisted Fate easily enough, slipping through the crowd to stop at his side, a glass of something very dark in her hand, watching the arrowhead.

"Another year survived?"

There isn't an immediate reaction; the arrowhead twirls between fingers smoothly, as he done it for ages, and he knows more time to come. Eventually, he looks up with a faint smile.

"As it were," Twisted Fate says. "Should be a more positive spin to it, shouldn't it? Maybe another year lived. Still feels a bit grim, though."

The arrowhead is pocketed and he offers a little bow of his head. "Is that how you feel? Another year survived."

"Survival has meaning," she replies, light enough through practice. "Living means different things to different people but to say you have survived, at least that means you have accomplished something."

Another year away from Flemeth, another year of learning, another year of watching Kieran grow.

"If you ever have a child then let me give you the advice no one gave me: time truly flies. Though when was there last true peace in Thedas? We are all surviving by the skin of our teeth and not much else."

She's a bad person to go to for kinder words, time and a son have softened her as much as they ever will but focus is always required when they don't know what lies ahead.

"True enough. And that's all I could really ask for at this point."

It's all he really has, but he's not about to admit that out loud.

There is a low snort. "Me, with a child. I would dread to think of myself as a father one day." The wryness of his voice fades as he says, "You aren't wrong. Though it would probably help if holes stopped being ripped into the sky and red lyrium wasn't all the rage these days."

Twisted Fate shrugs. "Do you hope for a lasting peace? For your son."

“Tis more than many can say they have, this year has been as tumultuous as they believed it would be when it was named and more than half of this age remains to be lived, I wonder what the world will look like then.” There have been Blights more severe, conflicts with Tevinter and the Qunari, the rise and fall of elves and yet so much in such a short time rewriting the books before the ink is even dry on the last pages and Thedas could be very much changed. For good or ill remains to be seen.

“Lyrium is dangerous enough when mined by the dwarves, there is good reason to be cautious around it and one does well to remember that raw veins of the stuff can be encountered in the Fade though I cannot say if that is where the connection between the two lies. One does wonder if Chantry practices shall continue in the face of all this.” Lyrium isn’t something she requires much of, more from growing up without any real access to it, but the Circles and the Templars both require much of it.

She does pause though, considering the little man off in his bed, probably curled around a book instead of getting some rest and she smiles. “Peace never lasts, wishing and hoping for it will not make it so. I hope that he grows strong enough in all ways to weather the storms, to have a good and happy life wherever he may find it.”

"The world will keep turning, and we will all find ways to live in it. For better or for worse. Really, I'm just eager to see rifts stop spawning one day; that'd be hell of a thing." Here, though, with the Inquisition, it could very well change things. There have been events here, events that have never occurred before, apparently. Though Twisted Fate had selfish reasons -- as always -- for joining the Inquisition, there is a part of him that's had a passing fascination with all that had occurred. Personally, he'd wish for simpler days of cheating people out of money and running with their belongings.

"I can only speculate, but if Corypheus can control an Archdemon and he's inspired this red lyrium growth, it probably is possible, with what you say." Twisted Fate snorts, speaking flatly, "Don't underestimate people's need for worship. The Chantry will continue, despite everything." In his experience, people will always find a way to ensure their own belief in a god or few.

The way she smiles earns a curious look from Twisted Fate, and he finds himself nodding in return. "You're a practical woman. So few are. I think with you guiding him, he's in good hands, madame."

"You and most souls in Thedas, I cannot imagine anyone beyond Corypheus and his followers desire this, not even blood mages and maleficars could hope for this when they too are all too easily caught up in it."

"If he controls an Archdemon he could control much worse; Archdemons command the entirity of the Darkspawn horde and Archdemons do not die so easily." With the rumours about the Wardens despite their presence here, that speaks very ill because right now that's the last thing anyone needs and no Blights have ever been so close together before. "There will always be the pious, if they actually remembered what she truly taught then we would be the better for it but the way they add to it and use it to explain away that which it cannot, and that is before the politics and the way they will say the Maker is responsible for every small thing." Small wonder Celene was so glad to have a mage free of such thinking in her court.

If it were Zevran or maybe even Alistair she could allow herself to falter but Twisted Fate is still very much a stranger though she's glad to have met him, so intriguing a fellow is he. "I...I had a poor example for a mother, much of this is trial and error, tis the task of any parent to make their child ready for their future." Or fate, or destiny, whichever one it is she guides him towards.

"True enough. I'm under the impression he controls the Red Templars to a degree, so one must wonder the connection of red lyrium, the Archdemon, and the Blight. If there's an answer, I don't have it." Not that he's terribly inclined to research it himself, but it has been some passing thoughts of his. He's not a mage who desires much knowledge in regard to these matters; best to leave it to someone else who is passionate about it. "Such is the way of it; religion is often utilized to excuse actions, not usually because it truly guides a person."

The honesty from Morrigan makes him pause, and soften somewhat. Twisted Fate folds his fingers together and glances away for a moment in thought before he responds, "The choices we make for children can either be better than those who tried to raise us, or we can continue their poor choices. If you're doing the former, then I think he's likely in good hands, if you don't mind my saying."

He doesn't know much of anything about Flemeth beyond rumors and tales; he couldn't say for certain, but he's gotten nothing but impressions that Morrigan truly cares for her son. That's enough to satisfy any potential concerns or thoughts.

"The Blight only affects the living, that I have seen at least. None of the races are ever immune though a dwarf would take longer to succumb if they came from Orzammar given such close proximity to the Deep Roads, Blighted beasts are common and there's a reason a deep mushroom should only be handled by someone with knowledge and experience. If it is a true Archdemon, then the implications could be rather shattering. Usually the Archdemon is the intelligent one, the Old God twisted and corrupted from whatever Tevinter paid worship to - twould say he would rather be the God now, not whatever he was before." Then there is the song - lyrium has a song, so the dwarves like to say and though not so moved as some by the ashes, Oghren's point about lyrium is rather more important now. And then of course there is the Taint, that song the Wardens hear but well, best not to bring that up with so many Wardens about.

She might be forced to discuss this all with Alistair, horror of horrors.

Sometimes, she feels it should annoy her more that she can't be as she perhaps would like regarding discussing Kieran with others but it's a better her, and she knows it. "Do you speak from experience too? The Dalish I have met prior to this have been with their clans, all of them very proud of it, to be part of this thing, to carry their history and that is to be commended, we all lose too much and thus see through a narrow lens but it cannot always be freedom, can it?"

"And I imagine he would agree with you. From what I understand, he seems rather determined to be a God. Though if he can manipulate an Archdemon, perhaps the implications are worse than I originally thought, as you say." Twisted Fate exhales and shrugs faintly. "Suppose we won't know until there's more research to be done. By researchers, of course."

Not him, if he can help it.

It was bound to happen, her return in questioning. Fate carefully breathes through his nose, determined to not become rigid and stiff in mention of the Dalish. "My clan and I didn't really see eye to eye on several matters. How we lived, how we integrated -- or didn't -- into the world. It was confining, and I decided I wouldn't be part of it, much to my former Keeper's disappointment."

“To be a God it would mean entering the Fade physically, just as the magisters are said to have done so years ago. Anything else would not be enough though the consequences are unimaginable and where he would hope to procure the lyrium required unless that is part of the purpose of red lyrium. Blood magic was required for what those first magisters attempted, untold numbers of slaves bled dry for it.” After all she’s lived through, after all she’s studied, even she has to shudder at the idea of it, that a part of history that unleashed so much chaos is in danger of being repeated. “I will have to read further into this, and question a few who will know more.”

Wardens, she’s going to have to question people who don’t take to questioning well.

There’s a common cause to some, something that goes deeper than a mage wanting freedom because freedom alone is nothing at times without a goal, a plan, a desire. Once a little girl had a mirror dashed to pieces in the mud and reeds, with all the birds going quiet at the sound it made. And not once, but twice, a woman slipped away with none able to follow her. “I can understand the desire to be a true part of the world and not to sit on the outskirts of the world. There comes a time where we must spread our wings and take that leap else we have none but ourselves to blame when we’re left with nothing. It must be harder to leave a clan however, than to leave only one’s mother behind.”

"Then perhaps that explains the Herald? The one who stepped out of the Fade and all. Something beyond blood magic." The details he isn't certain of; it's not something he really looked into, or asked. "You may want to ask those who were at Haven. Perhaps those who knew the Herald could share more."

This is a particularly difficult subject, but still easier than some. Twisted Fate hesitates, uncertain of how much he desires to share, but then he knows well how to cherry pick his words. "Despite whatever disagreements we had, my clan was my family. But I was angry, and thought I knew best. Then again, so did they, despite our mutual ignorance. I think I grew well from it, but I couldn't say how they fair. Alive, in any case."

"I thank you, anything to plan better so resources can at least be directed where they may do some real good and halt whatever progress Corypheus and his followers make might at least allow some to sleep more easily at night." It does make her wonder how much any of the rifters have been told of the Herald, or of what happens when one ventures into the Fade but they can wait until she has research, no doubt most of them have been poked and prodded at enough if they walk freely.

How she envies that. Flemeth raised her to be able to fight what needed to be fought, taught her a great deal of knowledge and magic but she had only wanted what would be useful to her in the end. "And now here you stand, at the centre of what shall shape this age. Perhaps your paths may cross here should there be a need to venture further than Ferelden or Orlais."

"My pleasure. Hopefully, they'll be helpful to you." For him, he'll gladly remain on the outskirts and focus on more... comfortable matters.

Twisted Fate scowls and shrugs at the suggestion. He takes no offense to it, and he'd even considered briefly returning to his clan more than once, but he knows it wouldn't work out in his favor. "Perhaps. Frankly, I hope there won't be a need; I can't say that they would be easily convinced, but maybe with all that's going on in Thedas, they might see reason."

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OPEN: this will be a better year

courtyard;

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