Ballroom To say that Eirlys feels out of her depth is something of an understatement. Her dress is far nicer than anything she's ever owned and she keeps shifting the bodice and smoothing out the skirts, partly out of a nervous habit and partly because the fabric feels so luxurious under her fingers. She's made sure to style her hair to make her elven ears as prominent as she can, remembering Anders' advice that she needs to make sure they're as visible as possible within the Inquisition.
The sight of an alienage elf dressed up in such finery has provoked a few comments from the Orlesian nobility, and more than once she's been handed an empty glass under the assumption she's a servant, but she tries not to let it faze her. Mostly she's treated as a novelty - as the dwarves and Qunari and rifters must be too, she supposes - an oddity for the nobles to gawk at and gossip about for a moment - rather than feeling she's making any lasting bold statement about the place of her people both in the Inquisition and in society as a whole.
Servants' Quarters This is more the party atmosphere she's used to, and when she does manage to break away from the ballroom she feels quite at home -- though the suspicious glances of the elven servants sting her in a way that those of the nobles couldn't, sizing her up in her finery and deciding that she didn't truly belong among them. She tries her best to throw herself into the swing of things nonetheless, recognising the dice game as one she was taught in her teens and quickly winning a sizeable sum of coins. She listens to the music with rapt attention, and when it quiets a little, offers a song from her own alienage in exchange.
Eirlys Ancarrow | Ballroom and Servants' Quarters
To say that Eirlys feels out of her depth is something of an understatement. Her dress is far nicer than anything she's ever owned and she keeps shifting the bodice and smoothing out the skirts, partly out of a nervous habit and partly because the fabric feels so luxurious under her fingers. She's made sure to style her hair to make her elven ears as prominent as she can, remembering Anders' advice that she needs to make sure they're as visible as possible within the Inquisition.
The sight of an alienage elf dressed up in such finery has provoked a few comments from the Orlesian nobility, and more than once she's been handed an empty glass under the assumption she's a servant, but she tries not to let it faze her. Mostly she's treated as a novelty - as the dwarves and Qunari and rifters must be too, she supposes - an oddity for the nobles to gawk at and gossip about for a moment - rather than feeling she's making any lasting bold statement about the place of her people both in the Inquisition and in society as a whole.
Servants' Quarters
This is more the party atmosphere she's used to, and when she does manage to break away from the ballroom she feels quite at home -- though the suspicious glances of the elven servants sting her in a way that those of the nobles couldn't, sizing her up in her finery and deciding that she didn't truly belong among them. She tries her best to throw herself into the swing of things nonetheless, recognising the dice game as one she was taught in her teens and quickly winning a sizeable sum of coins. She listens to the music with rapt attention, and when it quiets a little, offers a song from her own alienage in exchange.