[ OPEN ] We all in together now, birds of a feather now

[thesteelwolf]

WHO: Issaquntaar + You
WHAT: Arrival at Skyhold
WHEN: first of the month
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Shirtless Qunari in one prompt.

[ THE GATE ]

Tacking up the side of the mountain had been difficult, but not impossible. With patience and more than a few mental notes of possible projects to make the way easier for the soldiers and civilians that made their way up for refuge (a few of which Issa offered space on her cart as walking up the slopes was not so difficult for her), she and Burly managed. A massive cart of tools and supplies hauled by a Druffalo is something of a sight. Odd- as though Issa herself is not odd enough. Vashoth linger about often enough that she is not stared at quite so much- but her daily recitations of the cantos on the ride up did earn her some scorn and curiosity. More the latter than the former.

At the gate she rides up front, a great black pelt about her shoulders, Druffalo hauling the cart and her few passengers into the courtyard step by step. Upon arrival she helps those that rode with her down by hand, pausing only to ask where she might stow her beast and supplies safely. "I have business with the advisors."

She says. "A letter from the Arishok."

At least that is what she was told.


[ THE MAIN HALL ]

Druffalo and cart stowed Issa strides her way to the great hall, asking (quietly) after the wherabouts of the Advisors- and a specific list of names she had been given. Morrigan. Alistair. Leliana. Comrades of the Arishok during the fifth Blight. Tucked under one grey arm are simply wrapped parcels, their names written in straight, blocky letters. A single scroll for the Advisors waits on top. She does her best to keep out of the way (difficult at her size) and to keep her voice low out of respect of those that do business- but she does wish to find these people. She has work, and cannot start that work until this task is done.


[ THE FORGE ]

Deliveries made, Burly unhitched, brushed, watered, and set to rest in the stables, Issa unloads the bulk of her crates and supplies in the forge. It is...sufficient for the moment, even if the tools at hand are primitive. There's a river running along the bluffs outside Skyhold- given time and tools she'd rather set up something more suited to her skills. For the time being she strips off the pelt, her shirt, her harness, leaving grey skin bare and glistening in the forge's heat as she starts to draw out a length of bar with heavy blows of a hammer. Quiet humming under her breath as she works away at her last task before she is to be left to her own devices. A gift only a smith of her skills could create meant to be offered in the spirit of cooperation to the Advisors of the Inquisition. Purely symbolic, but a blade is a blade and it is simple enough practice to learn the way the weather effects her alloys and tools this high in the mountains.

OR

Slim canisters of brass and iron filled with dusts, ground minerals, or metal pellets. Of to one side (still shirtless) Issa weighs and measures portions of what look to be unabled vials and leather pouches before mixing them, layering the result in the shells with more pellets or fine filaments. They are sealed shut with a hammer- anyone coming close is cautioned with a "Try not to breathe in. You will burn your lungs."

Anyone trying to offer light will be nudged carefully backward with a gentle (but firm) hand. "That won't end well- keep the fire on that side of the forge."


[ THE TAVERN ]

After having worked well into the evening, with the light failing and the bulk of the blade roughed out? Issa dresses herself once more and finds a quiet corner in the tavern to drink and observe these people. Her voyage south has taught her a great deal of Common that she hadn't quite had a grasp on in Par Vollen; but it is prudent to listen and learn more. Observation is quite educational, more than most might think. She's amenable to company- offering the stool next to her with a grin and a nod, even going so far as to cover a round in return for a story, a game of cards, or a song.

Comments

The Tavern

[gatheringstorm]

Another horned woman isn't such a common sight around Skyhold that Korrin can't ignore her, even if that was her intent. After her Valo-Kas sisters left, it's just been herself and Yael, after all. So the offer of a round is met with welcome surprise and prompt acceptance. The company of a Tal-Vashoth or fellow Vashoth? Well, her night is looking up.

"I usually buy new people a round instead but I won't say no. My voice hasn't recovered from all the drinking songs of last night, but I know Wicked Grace and I have a shit-ton of weird or crazy-awesome mercenary stories, if that works."

[thesteelwolf]

As far as she knows, Issa is the only one of the Qun in Skyhold. There aren't many practitioners this far south- and an organization rooted so deeply in the Chantry isn't normally something they would bother with were it not for the state of the world. Still, she hopes for a touch of familiarity. The comforting reassurance of having something in common with anyone this far South. Seeing another horned woman (Tal Vashoth, Vashoth, either is likely), has her somewhat tense.

Having the reminder that she's a mercenary, that she thinks herself a warrior? Has Issa's eyes tighten for all that she pays for the round. "What kind of mercenary work is there this far south?"

[gatheringstorm]

If Korrin notices that reaction, it doesn't change her answer at all. She's nothing if not honest to the point of bluntness, and will never apologize for being what she is, any of it. Reaching for her drink, she shrugs.

"Guarding caravans or explorers, taking down local menaces, retrieving captured people or items...you get the idea. Even without a temple fucking exploding and big green tear in the sky raining death from above, there's a lot do do. Hell, Orlais being at war with itself isn't terrible for business either, though you get a lot more condescending crap and 'ox' comments for your trouble. Sometimes it's worth the hassle, if they pay well."

[thesteelwolf]

"Terrible for the people but not for the pocket." Profiting off of misfortune- It seems the sort of thing a Tal Vashoth might do. What she has been told they do. Causing the misfortune in the first place seems more along the lines of what she'd heard in Par Vollen. "What is the weirdest job you've taken?"

Weird isn't terrible. Weird is- strange and often harmless.

[gatheringstorm]

"Eh, you have to make a living somehow but I take no pleasure in seeing what's been done to Orlais. Sure, it sometimes knocks the nobles down a peg, but there's a lot of people underneath them who end up suffering. Fucking nobles and their fucking Game." Korrin shakes her head in disgust at that, then furrows her brow.

"Maker, that's some steep competition. The Valo-Kas has taken on all sorts of weird shit, only some of which I've personally seen. One rich weirdo took us into the Deep Roads, not for glory or treasure...but to see if he could find the Nug King. I'm not making this up. We humored him because the pay was absurd and why the hell not? I don't think I've ever seen a party travel with so many cheese wheels, and to this day the scent of them takes me back. Anyway, the guy got separated from us at some point and he says he encountered the Nug King, but of course no one else was around to verify it. I wouldn't be surprised if that dwarven ale made him see things, but in the end, we got paid, he was happy and that's what mattered. I guess."

[thesteelwolf]

"...The little pink creatures with the creepy feet? They have a king." Herd animals don't have kings. That anyone would go hunting for it is five kinds of foolish and a waste of everyone's time. There's no point to it. No purpose. It helps no one and does nothing to seek it out and yet a whole mercenary band went on a wild chase for coin?

With cheese.

And Dwarven ale.

For a Nug King.

"...Did he say if it had a little crown?"

The forge

[justice_is_blond]

He's down here to check on the progress being made on his blade for his staff; no one had told him there was now a qunari smith at work. And a topless one at that. Anders isn't entirely sure where to have his eyes. Looking away from a qunari doesn't ever really seem like a safe thing to do, but... On second thought, she has a whole bunch of vials on the table, and that's a rather interesting set of things to look at.

"I'm not sure anyone is going to be able to stop breathing in, I'm sorry to tell you."

[thesteelwolf]

"Then step away from the table. Easy." She peers up from where she's measuring out a vial of one thing into a vial of another. All unmarked (as far as most can tell) all more or less uniform in appearance. Different blends of different powders for different results. Robes, alone, no Avaraad.

"...Are you a member of the chantry or a mage?" They are the only ones that wear robes as far as she knows.

[justice_is_blond]

He takes a step back despite his curiosity before winding up looking at her and snorting.

"There will be no sunsets on my forehead or my clothing, thank you very much." Anders shakes his head. That might not make much sense to her, so he adds, "mage. What are the powders?"

[thesteelwolf]

"Dangerous. Take another step back." It's a subtle thing, the shift in her demeanor. While the general amiability hasn't changed in the slightest- there's a projected gentleness to her gaze, a soothing pitch to her voice. Once sure the measurement's she's made are accurate the powders are swept into their respective shells and she tugs a stool out from under the table, setting it off to the side. Close enough to speak to but well out of harm's way.

"Here, sit."

[justice_is_blond]

"No, really. I thought lungs burning was a safe, cheerful thing." His voice is dry as he takes the seat. She's clearly not much of one for words.

"Would you mind talking about what it is you're doing? The person I came down here to check on doesn't seem to be around right now."

[gatheringstorm]

"Yep. It even had a throne, and a bunch of nugs surrounding it like they were playing court. If you believe him. I've seen some pretty strange things in the Deep Roads, but that would be stretching it." Korrin shakes her head, lips twitching. "At least it made for a good story later, and we got in play of action with darkspawn we did find anyway. As far as employers go, I'll take weird and generous over stingy, any day."

Tavern

[issala]

Kas was elbowing his way to the bar in order to get some ale when he noticed a new pair of horns he hadn't seen before. Curious, he abandons his attempt of getting Cabot's attention and instead moves a little closer to this new qunari.

...then he's not quite sure what to say, so he ends up staring a for a moment until he actually finds his voice. "Uh, hi. Are you new here?"

[thesteelwolf]

"The stranger the request the better the payment ought to be- or so I've heard. Something about the unusual promising wealth or something like that." She hasn't heard much but most assume she's Vashoth up till the Cantos. People talk. She listens. "What brings a Tal Vashoth to the Inquisition? Coin?"

[thesteelwolf]

"With as many humans as I've seen take up smoking? They tend to think that." Inhaling burning smoke for leisure, that'll end well. The shells get capped off for the moment as she turns, arms crossed, hip (thigh, rather, the table's short) braced against the table. "Making shells; anything more than that I can't tell you. Trade secret."

[thesteelwolf]

"Rode in this morning. What are you doing on your own, Imekari?" Too old for a Tama, sure, but someone should be minding a young Qunari like him even in the south. Parents maybe? Issa looks past the boy into the crowd, trying to pick out another pair of horns.

[gatheringstorm]

"Vashoth...and nah, though the pay isn't bad." Korrin tilts her head back to take a nice long swig before replying. "Some of my company were working at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, for the Conclave. When it exploded, they all died. Everyone did, except the Herald. So, I'm here for them. If it was about coin, I'd be back up north taking on better jobs. Is that why you're here, or did you just want to see the big fucking hole in the sky? Not that it's there now, but maybe Corypheus will try for an encore."

[thesteelwolf]

"To honor their memory?" One word and that subtle tension eases immediately. Vashoth. Raised without the Qun. Doesn't know better. Probably still going to go mad and get herself killed one day but- the nonchalance makes sense now. Probably less likely if she's concerned with honor even in death, but. Some things are inevitable. It may make the next bit of conversation awkward. Issa takes a sip of her ale, setting the mug down carefully (everything is so small and fragile in the South, honestly). "Orders from the Arishok and Ariqun."

[issala]

"I'm not an imekari," he says with a near-pout, trying to puff up a little more because hey, he gained muscle recently! Between that and his horns splitting to two pairs, he's damn proud of himself.

Still, he can't exactly fault her, he still had a baby face (and baby everything, to be honest).

"I don't need minding. Got friends around, though." Thereäs a pause. "I'm Kas."

[thesteelwolf]

"No, you're practically grown, aren't you?" Wiry, young in the face, horns coming in well- who knows what a Tamassran might've had in mind for this kid. That's never been her job. Teaching the ones that come to her how to build things- that's the extent of her experience with the young. "Friends are good. I'm-"

The title doesn't go over so well down here. Shorten it. "Call me Issa."

[issala]

"Damn right I am." He says with a slightly cocky grin before he gives her a little nod. "Nice to meet you, Issa. There's more and more qunari coming in, it seems."

He's gonna just sit down here, okay? Okay. "What do you think of the Inquisition so far?"

[gatheringstorm]

...what.

Upon hearing that, Korrin stiffens in shock. She lowers her drink, and it's as thought the tension that left Issa was transferred to her, though the Vashoth is a lot less subtle about it. Her lips form a thin line, those walls going back up. A Qunari, with a capital 'q'. Wonderful.

"And what were their orders, exactly?"

[thesteelwolf]

"Vashoth and Tal Vashoth, most likely." It's- unnerving. Do the Inquisition even know the trouble waiting under the admittedly friendly and carefree masks? Gaatlok barrels waiting to blow. "I don't think Qunari have much interest in an organization run by the Chantry."

Except for what they were doing for the world when no one else seemed to be trying to get their ducks in order. "It's...interesting. Lots of mages, lots of templars. Seems a little disorganized but only on the surface."

[thesteelwolf]

There it is. And they'd been having such a nice drink too- well. Relatively speaking. Nicer than if Korrin had been Tal Vashoth and Issa a member of the Ben Hassrath, probably. "Deliver a letter to the advisors, packages to Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana- assist in fighting the threat to Thedas."

Field test her cannon. The last doesn't need to be said as it's part of 'assisting'.

[issala]

"Yeah, I guess that's a better word for it.... and probably." There's a small shrug from the teen. "I think we only have one Tal-Vashoth, though. Big deaf guy. Me and Korrin and Metaari are Vashoth... I think the other new woman is Vashoth - and then there's the Iron Bull, who's Ben-Hassrath."

He pauses and then smiles a little, looking around the tavern. "...yeah we look like a mess but it works better than you'd think." It's his family now, after all.