faderift | Open! Operation Swan Song

Entry tags:

Open! Operation Swan Song

WHO: Henry Swan and you!
WHAT: Henry is getting use to Skyhold.
WHEN: After his arrival and then the rest of the week
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Unless speeches about hope require warnings there will likely be some

Library
Henry has been getting use to Skyhold since his arrival. Being fed, finally cleaning his clothes (even if they were edging on the side of raggedy) and finally be able to clean were bonuses, but the best part? Books. A library full of books. Sure, it couldn't beat the White Spire's collection but having spent months in the wilderness? This was good enough for him.

Henry came early in the morning, while no one was around to at least get the best pick of the selection here. He's cornered himself off at one of the tables with two very large stacks of books sitting at the end of the table. He goes through each one hungrily, smelling the page and written word as he absorbs the knowledge and stories inside. As the day goes, Henry continues to be far too engrossed in his reading as more people come in. His stacks still not having much of a dent in them, but a few of the tomes have been finished.

When he finishes one (The Dasher's Men by Varric Tathras) he means to put it in his finished pile. That is until he bumps the stack by mistake and all those books go tumbling to the floor.

"Damn," He mutters and slides the book he holds onto the table, now beginning what would look like a mess of fifty two pick up with novels. He has to check them over though as he picks up each one, has to make sure they weren't damaged. What a waste that would be.

Stables
He always had a fondness for horses. Before being taken to the circle he always wanted to ride one back at his family's estate. His father always told him his horse would let him know when it was ready to be ridden. When Henry often asked what that meant but his father never really told him. He supposed it was just a father thing to do. Be a giant, cryptic dork.

But, that never came to be. Taken to the circle at seven leaves a boy without a lot of experiences. He'd seen horses from the window of his room at the circle or when he was on the road, but he never had chance to get so close to one. Couldn't have any detours if he and Fredrick were to get to the Free Marches...

But that plan went out the window awhile ago.

For now, he's up close to one of the horses. It's a very dark, chestnut color, it's head poking out from the opening in it's pen. Henry's off to the side, arms resting on the wooden wall, every now and then reaching out to stroke the horse's side.

"So, will you tell me when I'm ready to ride you? Or do we have to stand like this for hours?"

Maybe talk to the strange boy looking at the horses or pull him away. He can't be up to anything good can he?

Courtyard
Henry is sitting on on one of the fences off to the side. He just seems to watch some of the soldiers doing their daily routine of training. He's pretty transfixed as he watches the swords clash against one another. He wishes he could take one up, start practicing on his own while the soldiers run their drills. But, he holds back, since that might disturb them and land him in unwanted trouble. Sitting and watching is always a good past time is it not?

Later, however, it looks like the soldiers take something of a long break. No body was around and from the looks of it, one of the soldiers foolishly left one of their blade's behind. Henry sits there for a long moment. Looking left, looking right and it looked like really NO ONE was around currently.

Sense not withstanding, he gets up from his spot and hurries over to circle and picks up the sword. There's a smirk on his face as he lifts the blade to eye level and now he's just making some fairly slow swings at the air. The blade's heavy but he's being as careful as he can. So, no big deal, right?

Healing tents
Henry is still only an apprentice and while he is capable of fixing wounds it wouldn't be a good idea quite yet to set him upon the injured. For now he's more of a glorified delievery person. Not that he minds all that much. Here and there he helps mend a few non lethal wounds, but otherwise he's running around the tents dropping off supplies.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Henry may have gotten to the library early, but it's never fully empty. Whether or not he's noticed the curly-haired witch dozing in a corner, she's been there since the beginning, given that she rarely moves from the library these days. She's had something of a rough recovery from her last venture outside Skyhold, so staying somewhere with easy access to books seems like her best bet. Food,of course, is secondary.

She does eventually wake up, slowly stretching and noting that worst of her bruising feels as though it's fading away. That's good. That means there's less of a chance anyone here will end up assuming she's a fighter and try to make her go out on another mission.

Eventually she goes about her regular business, reading and scribbling notes and absently eating a piece of too-hard bread that she'd had wrapped up from the night before. She doesn't look up until she hears a sound very close by, and that's when she notices that someone had been sitting fairly close to her and seems to have dropped a large pile of books.

Doing nothing but sitting around isn't helping her all that much, and so she forces herself to get up, stiffly crouching down besides the fallen books and helping the young man gather them up. "No harm done," she tells him softly. "I'm sure these books have gotten worse abuse over the years."

Now this is not what he was expecting. Henry hadn't expected to see someone else here let alone someone so...well...

he notices when girl's are pretty. But, he shakes the thought from his head rather quick because it was impolite to stare. Instead he focuses back on picking up the books that lay strewn about the floor. He sets them on the chair behind him and listens to her words. Rather than nod dumbly he does answer after a small silence.

"I suppose, but, you don't want to put them through too much. With everything that's happened it's hard to come by some of these tomes." It's sad to think that all that knowledge and history might be lost in the fires of the Mage templar war.

With a few more books, he has finished his pile of the fallen books but then looks back up to the girl. "I don't think we've met have we?" he says, now sounding more normal. A hand extends out and he says "My name's Henry."

Edited 2016-06-09 04:07 (UTC)

She's sort of used to people staring at her. It usually has to do with them knowing she's a rifter, either through hearsay or the fact that denim doesn't seem to be a popular fashion trend in Thedas. She should really buy a few new, comfortable outfits made from local materials. Just so long as she stays away from plaidweave.

At any rate, she doesn't seem to notice any staring, but she does notice that he seems to handle and talk about the books with a certain amount of respect. That's rare, and a pleasant surprise, and her face lights up when he speaks.

"Understandable," she agrees eagerly. "These don't look quite so delicate as all that, but it's always good to be careful with them."

Carefully setting the books down on the table, Hermione dusts her hands off before reaching out to shake Henry's hand, smiling easily. "I'm Hermione. It's nice to meet, Henry. I don't really see many new faces up here." Young faces is what she means to say, but given that she gets a bit tetchy when people comment on her age, she decides to avoid the matter for now.

Maker help the soul that wears plaidweave. It would only end in pain and suffering for all...and a room full of unconscious Orlesians from fainting at the sheer sight of it.

However, he himself is a bit surprised but mostly glad to get an agreement on such a thing. Most people would find such things trivial but how often were books considered a frivolous past time? Unless they weren't strict history according to the Chantry or the chant itself people seemed to take them for granted. "Especially, with the war. Who knows how much has been lost. It'd be terrible to lose more over just dropping them."

Shaking firmly Henry takes the ones form the chair he hoists them back onto the table. He smiles at her words, glad to at least hear that. It sounds positive after all. "It might be because I only arrived a few days ago. I didn't really know how to find the place until I ran into someone from the Inquisition."

But, there's only so long he can go without noticing her attire...she's rather...oddly dressed. Fashion he's never quite seen before. It's not Ferelden...not Orlesian...not even Marcher.

Hm...

Curiousity in the end gets the better when he asks: "So, where do you come from? I've never seen such strange clothes before in my life. Or is this some kind of new Inquisition uniform I don't know about?"

Unfortunately, Henry wasn't quite alone in the courtyard as he thought. True to her unobtrusive behaviour, Sadira had been watching the soldiers training as well. She had been tucked away trying to make sense of how they fought when she saw the same thing as he: as sword left unattended. Unlike him, she had no desire to actually wield a blade. Not when the risk of getting caught was too great and her fear of being punished far outweighed any curiosity she otherwise felt.

Worried that he was going to get hurt, she stepped out of her poorly chosen hiding spot near some crates. It had been easy to overlook her poorly chosen spot only because she'd been standing so very still.

“Careful with that. The healers have plenty enough work to do without having to stitch up some foolish boy.”

Her accent was an unidentifiable blend of Marcher, strongly hinting that she had grown up among a wide variety of people.

When small boys are not wearing their clothes out at the knees, they go through books like nobody's business; much of what Morrigan researches must from straight from the source, and Skyhold has little enough on it that she doesn't already possess but books that Kieran enjoys? Skyhold has plenty of those that he devours either for study or enjoyment, and so whenever Kieran is off at his lessons Morrigan comes armed with a stack that he's finished to replace them for new ones. Sometimes to see if anything new has arrived that might help her research, or the joint project with Leliana - dragon lore was never something specific to her life.

(One would think that with Flemeth for a mother it should have been but well, there were other more important lessons, and killing dragons is really a simple enough business.)

There are plenty of people in the library, so a new face doesn't immediately catch her attention but the noise does and she turns sharply, face pulled into a frown.

"Perhaps," she begins, setting her own far smaller stack on a table for the moment as she stalks closer, "a little more attention might not go amiss?" One volume lands by her foot and she bends to pick it up, not handing it over yet under the guise of inspecting it as he does, skimming through the first few pages; she is here, after all, for Kieran's benefit more than her own.

Caught between restlessness and indecision, Korrin decides to wander for a bit and see if that will help her make up her mind. Idleness isn't something she cares to endure for long, but she's already gone through her Knight-Enchanter drills at the training ring and there is such a thing as overtraining. Then, too, she's done all the rift magic work she can stand, lately, thanks to her Fade encounter dampening her enthusiasm abit.

So it is that she wanders over to the stables, curious to see if their mounts include any other new and strange arrivals. There's one new arrival, of course, but not of the four-legged variety. Glancing over to him, the Vashoth woman thinks she recalls seeing him among the apprentices. Henry, was it? Well, there's only one way to find out if she remembers right.

Heading over, not bothering to hide her heavy tread because stealth will never be her forte, Korrin pauses a few paces away, arms crossed. "Usually, if you give them enough treats they'll be open to letting you ride them. It doesn't hurt to spend a few visits just doing that, so they'll feel comfortable with you."

Henry all but drops the blade out of being startled by the voice. It clatters to the ground with an audible thud and he looks over in the voice's direction. A woman, a woman he had not seen earlier. That's not good.

But, he catches notice of her accent, a free marcher? Must be. But, that wasn't the point right now. He'd been caught doing something he probably shouldn't. With a small bit of hesitation he picks up the blade and moves it off to the side, propping up against a crate. "Sorry, I just- I never had a chance to use one before." It was a fascination. Who wouldn't want to be a knight, after all?

He's in mid pick up when he hears a sharp voice coming closer. He turns his gaze upward when he see's the woman before him. The air she gives off is fairly intimidating and that look he gives her? He feels significantly smaller for a few moments. She seemed to hold an air of power about her, strong and harsh. But these were the thoughts of a boy who felt more or less embarrassed by the mess he just caused.

For a few moments longer he's silent until the last book he picks up is on the table. Now for the apologies. "Sorry, it was an accident. Won't happen again."

But, he eyes the book she holds in her hands, skimming through it and he doesn't dare extend a hand out to take it right away. Instead, he takes notice of the tale on the cover. It's a book on Grey Warden tales if he's seeing it right. There he smiles a bit pointing at it. "That's a good one, actually. You won't find a better collection of stories of Grey Wardens anywhere." He sounds a little to excited at it. Grey wardens being a fascination and all.

Henry looks over in the direction of the voice, in thought he imagined he would be greeted by someone closer to his height. Instead, he see's a massively tall woman before him...with horns. Oh. This is a qunari people have talked about. There's a moment of quiet as he looks at her not quite sure what to make of them. He had often heard of the "Savage qunari" in the far off land of...Seheron? Par Vollen? He's not quite sure. He just remembers the Chantry and any book related to them calling the race a bunch of heretics who sewed mages mouths shut.

But, he's also not one to be swayed by popular opinion either. If the Qunari are here working with the inquisition to save the world? He has no problem with them. So, what could be considered an awkward moment of silence Henry finally smiles in return to the response. "I suppose that's true," he says finally as he looks back to the horse to continue petting it's side. "But, you'd need to know how to ride one first, wouldn't you?" he asks, a bit of a joke at his own lacking.

Honestly, she couldn't fault him for wanting to wield a sword. After all, her biggest desire was to learn how to use one-- albeit a slightly more magical one. Still, she worked to keep her expression cool, even as she glanced around out of habit when the sword clanged to the ground. Instinctively her shoulders hunched as she subconsciously tried to make herself seem less conspicuous.

When no one immediately yelled at them, she let them drop again while trying to maintain the cool demeanor. She wasn't very good at looking aloof.

"I guess I cannot fault you for that, and I don't think you need to be told just how dangerous they are. But if you're set on using one, you might at least do so with someone else around."

When Eirlys looks up from her patient and sees Henry, worry flits over her face. She hasn't seen many children around here, and the fact that he's sought out the tents makes her think that he needs treatment. Replacing the cork top on the vial she's been administering a healing potion from, she rubs her hands together absently, brushing off the small fragments of herbs and leaves she's spent her morning grinding up, focusing her attention on the boy.

"Are you lost?"

Currently, Henry is holding a box filled to the top what could be considered elfroot and other such plants. He was standing off to the side, watching the woman do her work when she finally took notice of him. The question however does bring a frown to his face. Of course, it's that one. But he doesn't let it bother him...well much.

"No, actually I was told you needed these." Henry lifts the box to show it off and then walks over to set it gently on the table. Henry does add "I'm just helping out right now until they say I'm ready to try healing others."

Henry quirks a brow at the woman's jumpiness to the noise but says nothing of it. Maybe she hadn't expected it.

Her response does make him nod just a little bit. But her last bit his mouth forms a little line as he contemplates that.

Hm...No reason to hide it he supposes so he answers "I'm not sure a lot of people would like mages using swords."

That gives her pause as her eyebrow shoots up. Some of her put on aloofness fades as a small smile appears.

"That is a given, but some mages use swords anyway."

"He is probably looking for me to give him permission, first." James stated with a faintly wry tone, as he looked at the young man petting Dauntless's neck. Dauntless wickered at him, and he held up an apple for the stallion, before offering one to the boy as well.

"Best way to make friends with him." He stated solemnly, as he put aside his talbard with the Templar's sword, all done in green and gold, Inquisition colors, and unstrapped his sword and travel satchel, so he could go for the pitchfork. He paused, eying the young man again, "If you like, you can lead him out to the courtyard. Walk him around so he can stretch his legs."

"I think I read about that, but it was just out of a story." Was it true that there were mages who used swords? If so, how? He'll have to look further into it since it does pique his interest.

But, they've been talking and he hasn't even given her his name. Walking over to her so he can now stand face to face he extends a hand out. "My name's Henry. It's nice to meet you."

"You know ... typically swords should only be handled by someone who knows how to swing the thing. At least, that's what my brother Carver always told me." Comes the wryly cheerful response from behind the boy, where Bethany stood in her Warden robes, leaning slightly on her staff. She lifted one dark eyebrow at the boy, her dimples flashing.

"I am getting the very strong feeling that you haven't been one for swords, yourself."

Books are never trivial. If not for books, Hermione would never have been able to be nearly so helpful to Harry, which meant that they never would have won their war. She'd much rather never think about what life would have been like if Voldemort had gained even more power than what he had.

Which is a big reason that she's trying to learn all she can about Corypheus. She may have never seen him for herself, but given what she's heard, he doesn't sound all too different from Voldemort, which clearly means he must be stopped. The people of Thedas can't lose a single edge they have, and books, whether or not they realize it, are a very definite edge.

"Losing the wrong sort of books is almost as tragic as losing a life. If it's unique enough, filled with the right sorts of ideas, who knows what sort of difference it could have made if it had been allowed to flourish?" It's a dire thought, which explains why she lightly brushes her fingertips along the spines of the books she'd just set down. She'll save a person over a book any day, of course, but if she could save both, she can't imagine missing that opportunity.

There's a moment when she thinks Henry means to say that he's a rifter, but then she realizes that he only means that he's only just arrived at Skyhold. Before she can ask where he's from, though, she notices him looking her over, and there's a moment of awkwardness that passes before he asks after her clothes.

After glancing down at herself as though surprised to see the worn jeans and the jumper over her collared blouse, Hermione looks up at him with a small smile. "I'm from someplace called England, part of what's known as the United Kingdom. It's... well, do people outside of Skyhold really know about the people who come in through the rifts?"

Many of the people at Skyhold obviously change the way they treat her upon finding out she's a rifter, and they're usually a more open-minded group; she can't help wondering if Henry will rescind his friendliness upon finding out.

Henry looks over, somewhat surprised to find company. The boy watches for a few moments as the man feeds the apple to Dauntless and when one is offered to Henry he's quick to take it. There is a smile that spreads on his face at the man's words about the offer to walk the horse around the courtyard and in response "Yeah, I'd love to."

He's already quick to make sure the horse's reins are on and to coax it out with the apple. He was about to feed the apple when his eyes catch the glimpse of the templar insignia. He's quiet for a moment. Of course there were templars here. He wouldn't be surprised by it. It'd be ridiculous to think that all of them had been turned into the Red. Henry stopes with the horse, reins in hand as he soon looks back up to the other. Well, better get this over with now and be sure.

"You're a templar, right?" He's not sounding accusing or scared, it's merely curiosity.

Henry hadn't expected company, but then again, he's out in the open and a mage swinging a sword around was bound to garner some attention. He doesn't drop the blade on the ground, but lowers it to his side. Best to not injure the sword if it can be.

The smile however does displace what would've been doubt and he returns it with one of his own. He would've answered her general statement with a joke about the chantry and how the mothers might faint from the scandal of a mage wielding a blade...if it weren't for the fact he notices those warden robes.

Henry's attention is now less off the fact he was playing around with a sword and getting caught and more to the fact that there is a Grey Warden right before him. Somehow his smile gets even broader. But, he best answer or look like some daft tit. "Uh, yeah I never really got the chance. You know, chantry might have a heart attack if a mage could wield fire and swords," he's pretty fast at talking at least to move onto a question that's burning inside: "But, uh, you're...you're a grey warden, aren't you?" Please say you're a grey warden, mysterious lady.

"They're not just in stories. They're called Arcane Warriors or Knight-Enchanters."

Naturally, she was eager to tell him all about mages who fought on the front lines of battle, but curbed her enthusiasm since she herself was a long way off from being able to claim such a feat.

It was easier to let her guard down knowing she was speaking to a fellow mage, though from her current appearance, she didn't look much like one. Happily she clasped hands with him, giving him a quick but gentle handshake.

"Well met Henry, I am Sadira."

he has to agree with that sentiment. If there were any books out there that were one of a kind that could help them? He would want to do anything to make sure they were safe. But, people come first. Books can be remade, maybe not completely accurate but not people.

However, the conversation seems to be taking a downward turn into depressing so he attempts to try and make some light of it."If only there was a manual on how to defeat our enemies. Like a hundred and one ways to make the Venatori stop being complete jerks or a quick fix to Red lyrium."

But, that's short lived when she tell him about her land of origin...or world. Henry does make a face of realization at what she means. The people from the rifts. Yes...he's heard of them. People called them demons in disguise as people. His face does make some of a sad look at that. Did it mean he was disappointed at finding out that someone he thought seemed all right was just some dirty rifter? Or something else.

Well, he makes his thoughts known rather quick. "I'm sorry," it's sympathetic and he already feels for her. "You shouldn't have to deal with this mess and being so far from home? I can only imagine what that must be like." It's not like he had to go back through a rift. He already had a feeling that this demon nonsense was just that. Demons would try and attempt to trick people, make deals quickly or often go mad.

Besides, he always figured there had to more than just Thedas out there. He just didn't know where.

Well, that was smart, but he looked like a smart young man. She nodded her approval, before she moved across the courtyard towards him. Amusement flashes over her face at the joke, before she said with mock somberness. "I'll be honest, I've seen mages wielding both, and trust me, it would give them all heart attacks, probably right before they wet their pants."

She blinked at the question, before she laughed. "What gave me away, the robes? The general sense of mysteriousness?"

James nodded, waiting until the boy had gotten Dauntless out of the stall so he could start mucking out the manure into a waiting wheelbarrow. He stopped as the boy spoke up. He glanced over his shoulder, and nodded.

"That's right. I'm Knight Commander James Norrington." He stated simply, before he went to shovel the manure back into the wheelbarrow once more. "Do you know much about the templars, young man?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 5

Open! Operation Swan Song

Library! (What a surprise!)

no subject

no subject

Henry slightly approves.

Courtyard

library;

Stables

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Healing tents

no subject

no subject

no subject

Stables

no subject

Courtyard

I should set up an approval chart for this sort of thing. o/

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject