faderift | player plot: thorns of the rose (2)

"Stella atrae, in Tevene," Eirlys adds, though she's not sure that the tree would know the names the plants had been given anywhere but here in the forest. Then again, she didn't expect to be talking to a tree today, of all things. "And the one with the rancid scent is blue with white stamen."

Sina all but vibrates with excitement, tears in her eyes when the tree addresses her. She nearly forgets why they're actually here, and is about to answer Alistair when Shale and Eirlys chime in. Her face falls and she looks from person to person, surprised and somewhat dismayed by how unimpressed several of them appear. Shale, in particular, gets a horrified stare.
"We're honored by your wisdom," she says in a near whisper, as though she hopes the others won't make fun of her for it.

Christine's eyes widen in shock when she feels the protection she placed around them disappear, and not from natural decay. She just... doesn't understand why this is happening? She's done nothing. She laid a barrier over others to protect them from harm, and then Zevran started talking down to her as if she was a wild animal about to attack a tree! And Alistair... he had dispelled her magic like she was nothing. Did he not realize what that meant to a mage who had never wanted to inflict pain on others, and only wanted to protect them? He's just taken away her ability to do so.

And the golem... why did it think she was arguing? She had literal stood there and said nothing until Zevran wrongly accused her out of no where of being aggressive. For placing a barrier on people. She's half-convinced the sylvan has made everyone go mad, but after looking between them all, her eyes finally settle on Alistair once more, showing just a hint of fear before she takes a few steps back, then turns away completely. She doesn't run away, but she walks with her head held high, hands shaking as she moves to the back of the group and then continues on, back to where they've already been. If she isn't allowed to protect others, then she's no good here, and she'll go elsewhere until they're done. Obviously they think she's a raving lunatic who wants to attack a tree, and defending herself will just be seen as arguing more. As much as she wants to make herself clear, Leliana doesn't have much time, and so Christine will remove herself from the situation.

Bruce watches as Christine walks off, only giving a look at Alistair because really--really, Alistair, what was he even thinking.

There's enough of them hovering around the tree and quacking at it right now; between all of them he's sure they have it covered. Which means he is free to leave them to it and go and check on Christine instead. However friendly this tree might be, the rest of the forest is still another matter.

"Let's try to move on as soon as we can," he says for anybody who's listening to him, then only hesitates for a moment more before going after Christine to check up on her.

She doesn't go too far, just in case things do take a turn for the worse and she needs to rush back to help. Once she checks a nearby tree to make sure it doesn't have a face, she leans against it, letting out a shaky sigh. Bruce approaching surprises her. They've always been friendly enough to one another, but their relationship has pretty much stayed professional.

"I could not stay," she says softly when he's close enough. "Alistair... I did not think he would do that to me."

Bruce keeps his own footsteps light so as not to startle her, even though soon he can see its not necessary. Still, old habits are hard to break, and traipsing through forests like these--it was hard to shake off the old days before the Breach, before the Rifts and the Inquisition.

He relaxes a little once he gets close enough to Christine, silent as he hears her speak. It takes a second before he manages an answer, voice soft while he speaks. "He didn't mean it on purpose, I'm sure. Don't dwell too much on it."

Briefly, she scowls, before she straightens a little and tries not to look too disappointed. The Inquisition is a bit more accepting of people than other places, and she has been working alongside Templars and Seekers with no fear that they might try to control her.

"I do not know what he means. I do not know him, and all I have to go on is that he waved away the protection I placed over him as though I was a fool to try and keep him from harm. What else might he prevent me from doing if he wishes it?"

It's easy to understand her feelings about it, being a mage himself - even if a lot of his personal feelings tended to take a different turn on many other issues regarding mages. But this wasn't the place and time for such things.

"I can't speak for him, of course, but I don't think he was dismissing your help - at least not deliberately." He pauses for a moment, trying to find the best way to phrase what he wanted to say next. "He and Zevran... its clear they've both dealt with this before. They can take care of themselves, and I guess they'd rather have to focus on the rest instead." And maybe he could be entirely wrong, but tension and friction between any of them was the last thing they needed right now.

"You are far too optimistic for your own good," she states, unable to stop herself from giving him a hint of a smile. It was a bit of a shock to discover he was a mage, but with how mages are viewed by most people, she can understand him hiding it away.

Now she crosses her arms and glances over to where the rest of the party are gathered near that tree. "When we first enter the Circle, the other apprentices would all gather around and ask what was it that first gave us away. Some said they set the bed sheets on fire, others said they accidentally froze their food to the table. Do you know what I did?" She lifts her brow, but doesn't wait for him to guess. It's a rhetorical question. "I placed a protective barrier over a stray cat that was being hurt by village children. I have always wished to protect others from harm. That is all I wanted to do here, and he took that away from me. Zevran accused me of being aggressive. The golem threatened to step on me." She shakes her head, still amazed that using her magic for good resulted in them all turning on her. It doesn't escape her notice, of course, that all three are not mages, and could never know what she's gone through.

"I had to walk away. Leliana has little time as it is, but if I cannot protect people because Alistair thinks he can decide what I can and cannot do, then I have little I can contribute. I was already accused of arguing when I defended myself, and so I walked away before we wasted anymore time." She isn't optimistic enough that anyone beyond Bruce will understand that, though. They'll see an Orlesian run off in a hissy fit, not a mage scared of a Templar controlling what she can do, or a sensible woman who wants this over and done with without delay so they can return to Sister Nightingale.

The comment has Bruce giving a small smile himself. He wouldn't call himself optimistic by any means, but he wasn't going to bring anybody's mood down. If a few choice words and understanding helped people feel better, then that was the least he could do in a situation like this.

He shifts and glances over to the others around the singing, talking tree, feeling the press of the borrowed staff against his back, the weight of it on his shoulders - a weight that gets heavier as Christine talks about the Circle. His own entrance to the Circles has not been... optimal. He remembered waking up in an unfamiliar room, shivering in a cot as Templars stood guard over him, protecting him as much as preventing him from hurting anybody else. And before that--

"We all grew up being told how dangerous and terrifying magic is," Bruce murmurs, more to himself than to Christine. "Monsters that lurk in the night, demons that twist even the noblest of people, enchantments that ruin so many lives. All the monsters we see all comes because of magic, and thus, it is something to be feared." And of course, they were right - Bruce himself is living proof of why. "They don't mean it, like I said, but its hard to break away what is a lifetime of conditioning for all of us."

"They don't mean it, but they should learn better, and fast. It can't have escaped your notice that a great many of us here on this mission are mages. If they wish things to go smoothly between themselves and the mages, they had better try a little harder." She's spent a lifetime behind walls, talked down to and told she wasn't wanted out there, so she's not the one who needs to break the conditioning.

But anything else she might wish to say is immediately set aside as she sees Sina reach out her hand towards the tree.

"Maker! What now?"

"I'm sure they'll get it soon enough." He sends what he hopes is an encouraging smile towards her. At least it seemed the worst of her low mood has passed, which was good - that was the important thing.

He glances over to the rest of the party when Christine directs her surprise over there, blinking as he sees Sine reaching out for the tree. "...I hope she knows what she's doing." She did have her way with plants and all, but still... it's hard to be certain. The fact that the tree talks and sings is kind of throwing everybody for a loop.

Christine takes a few steps forward, her mind racing with all the things that could go wrong here, and how Sina could be hurt or killed in the process. But then her steps falter, and she is left not knowing what to do. Alistair had taken away her ability to help. If she tries to return to place a protective barrier over Sina, he'll just remove it like the rude, contrary dog lord he is.

She hesitates, and looks back at Bruce. "What should we do?" 'What can we do' might be a more appropriate question. If she's not allowed to protect the young woman, than what is she supposed to do: stand in the back and twiddle her thumbs?

Bruce shared most of the same sentiments with Christine; while he knew all of them could take care of themselves perfectly, he couldn't help but still maintain some degree of caution. There was no real way to know what would happen.

At Christine's question he looks over to her, uncertain for a few moments before he forces out a helpless shrug. "Maybe get back to them, for starters. At least if anything happens, we can respond quicker."

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aceso - 2016-07-10 19:29 (UTC) - Expand

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amygdalae - 2016-07-12 16:25 (UTC) - Expand

The Elder Tree does watch, perplexed,
When comrades inflict upon their own distress.

Such things the Tree has seen before -
Violence, blood upon the forest floor,

Round Thedas wide, for it had wandered,
And oft on Small Ones it had pondered.

The long branches of its fingers shake,
And the breeze a quiet rustling makes,

A sigh of remembering, summoning thought.
Did it recall a bard? It ought...

"Ah," it starts, nodding to those gathered hence,
and then its poem does commence.

"The bard, yes, so often singing,
When with shrieks of horror these woods were ringing.
'Poisoned,' said he?" A look to where the mages were,
Though the Tree spares comment, avoids a stir,
"A most unhappy malady."

Humming and musing, the Elder Tree considers,
eyes its audience for any jitters.
The two elf maids, he thinks, more likely
To take the offered knowledge and hold it tightly.

"Stella atrae and rotten meat,
These are the cause of thine mood's defeat?
They can be found, of that I'm certain.
Beyond the old were's curtain,
A barrier that kept them safe,
And beyond it, a ruined elvhen place."

And after that, a laugh and wheeze,
The sound which might cause some disease,
"As for Minstrel Leaf, you see,
The only source for that is me."

Edited 2016-06-29 09:03 (UTC)

Well...that certainly was a thing. Zevran peers back at both Bruce and Christine (more at the surrounding area, the last thing they need is to upset a Sylvan right now) and finding the forest relatively clear (probably. They blend in they are living trees among trees, it is difficult to pick them out on a good day) turns his attention back to the rest of the group- and scoots away from Shale a bit. Yes there is fondness but Shale does have their thinned patience. He would not test it.

"...we have to go back in the den?" Oh. Oh joy. Oh rapture. Oh this is everything he had hoped for and more.

No, no it isn't.

"There is no fog to turn us about anymore, is there? Because that was not fun a decade ago and I would rather not repeat the experience." Truly. And- oh. Needing a leaf from the Oak itself. He'll leave asking for it to Sina- which he attempts to prompt with a significant look in her direction.

Did you know Dorian is here too? It's true.

And in truth, he hasn't actually let anyone forget it. It's impossible to stay clean, they go for far too long without sighting a single building, and there's probably a whole manner of fern or flower to which he is allergic to, and these are facts that he has informed his companions of early and often. His catching up with the group is heralded by a curse in Tevene, attracted to the tug of Fade from which Christine bloomed her barriers. The cursing, to be fair, isn't for her, but the mud that rose an inch thick around his boots.

He's wearing his least favourite robes. They still have an amount of swish as he swerves to avoid stroppy mages, lifting an eyebrow after the Orlesian without asking, because there's a tree that's--

"It's singing," he observes, more than a little accusatory. Swanning into the group, and without looking, he passes Zevran his optimistically half-full wineskin. No one is drunk enough for this, but they can try. He stays rooted (ha) in place, giving the wheezing, demon-riddled creature a doubtful look up and down. "Any volunteers to retrieve the Minstrel Leaf? Don't all sing out at once."

"Rarely doth I spy upon a human face
Foliage of such handsome grace."

'Tis all too true, sad though it is to say,
Moustaches so well cared for never come this way.
Fereldan's at their very best
Manage sad tangles of beard, and one would protest
Even a comparison to the splendour
From such negligent pretenders.

But that is quite beside the point;
The Elder Tree straightens all its joints
Draws up high and tall and stern;
There is a lesson they must learn.

"The mist it lingers, does not allay,
The careless caught there for full days
Or more, if they are unaware
Of paths that map the way through there.
The Elder Tree would gladly see
A victorious resolution won for thee,
And thus I offer to lead the way
And fight alongside thee, come what may."

Moment pass, and it turns to Sina,
The one amongst them all that seems a dreamer,
"If thou would wish I will carry thee upon my shoulders,
To spare thee traversing across hill and boulders."

She could also get tangled in some branches
But the Elder Tree likes their chances.

Shale is indeed on a thin patience already with this happening to Leliana, so Zevran does well in stepping away a bit. They're not about to stomp on him in particular, but they were, as known, not too fond of mages.

No matter how good Christine's intentions were.

The tree keeps talking and rhyming, and at least the minstrel leaf was easily acquired. They could just reach out and grab it if they wanted to. The other things? Not the damn den again.

This really was the bad kind of blast from the past.

Eirlys snaps her fingers as she makes the connection, beaming the sort of broad smile that only seems to appear when she gets excited over herbs and potions. "Of course, minstrel leaf would come from a rhyming tree! It makes perfect sense."

"I suppose sense is one word for it," Alistair says, arms crossed, disgruntled by any number of things: Christine's apparent offense, the prospect of the werewolf den, the fact that the tree seems to be in love with Dorian and not him, Leliana's impending doom. He adds, "Sina." That's it, just her name, but he means maybe you shouldn't ride on the demon tree's shoulders.

Not that she'll listen.

Bethany bowed again to the Tree, the Singing Tree, and tossed a dimpled grin over at Dorian. She had seen Christine leave ... but right now they needed to focus. Bruce was with her, and they should be able to call for help if anything happened.

"We would be most grateful for all your help, Elder Tree. And whatever favor we can do in turn, please, let us know." Yes she'd even go find that acorn again for him, that's how grateful she was.

"Grazie." To Dorian, taking a moment to take a deep swig of some remarkably flavorful wine. It makes the realization that they will have to travel with this being for a little while longer a bit easier to swallow.

Not much, mind, but. A bit.

"Now that-" He points with the hand still holding the skin. "Is a marvelous idea. I think she should. We do not wish to upset our guide and aide, do we?"

No they don't. They really, really don't. Sina, by all means, ride the tree.

Sina catches the significant look from Zevran, and is halfway through and excited breath to respond to the tree when she hears her name. Turning her head to look at Alistair, she smiles helplessly, her gaze darting between the two of them as she also tries not to ignore the tree.
"I'd... hate to slow everyone down," she points out, and winces apologetically at Alistair before approaching the tree with her hand outstretched as though to take its... whatever passes for a hand.
"You are kind," she says quietly, trying not to look too relieved, "what can I offer in exchange?" That's right everyone! We're all going to owe the tree a favor now. Aren't you excited?

The look on Dorian's face when his beautiful moustache is called foliage should not be quickly forgotten. It is a peculiar mix of both horror and flattery, and has him reaching his hand out to hover expectantly for his wine back.

It's this icon. This is the face.

player plot: thorns of the rose (2)

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separate thread of mage feels, please tag after sina to stick w/ the main thread!

many feels, such mage, wow

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