faderift | Sataari

WHO: Taashath + OPEN
WHAT: Catch-all for Wintermarch
WHEN: All through the month
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Come get giant qunari CR!

I. SKYHOLD

Most days were good days for the warrior. He laughed, he smiled and he spent his time among friends and peers. Training, teaching, working for something.

Other days were not as good, when memories came to him and he swore he could almost hear again; the low thunder of the aftermath of an explosion. Those days Taas withdrew from the rest of the soldiers and spent his time on the battlements, looking at the mountains. It reminded him of freedom, to see the high rise of the snowy peaks - yet there was the the drop from the wall and deep into the chasm that settled his stomach even more.

Nothing came without danger, did it?

"Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun," he says softly. There was nothing to struggle against, even when all he could see were the faces of his antaam.

Taas keeps his back free, his weapon in the barracks and his thoughts stubbornly on the future, but he could probably use a distraction.

II. TAVERN

Some nights Taashath spent in the tavern, having a few drinks and talking to people. He does his best to not get too drunk, but sometimes it was nice to let go and be the guy who had to sleep it off on the floor.

...few people could move him once he was down, after all.

Other nights he enjoys less alcohol and more games, and he's still trying to master Wicked Grace. Diamondback is more his thing, as well as Dead Man's Tricks. It would be nice to get some Qunari games in the tavern, but he doubted any of them were easily found in the south.

Join him for drinking or games?

III. TRAINING RING

The swing of his dragon-tooth mace crushed the target dummy under him, and he makes sure to follow up the weight of the weapon by bracing himself with his legs. Swinging the thing was different from his usual axe, but the destruction was obvious. Standing back, he looks at the broken piece of straw and wood, rolling his shoulders a bit.

He still preferred the axe, but Korrin's present was damn amazing.

"So who wants to spar? I need to work on my speed, and I'm sure I'll be decent training for facing any Red Templar behemoths." Taas grins, leaning a bit on the mace and looking at the people gathered.

IV. SIGN LANGUAGE CLASS

Taashath's sign language class was still going, although it was mostly teaching non-verbal commands to the scouts. The people who came back for more were always welcome, and it was really a blessing for the deaf warrior to have more people around that were able to sign. It meant he didn't always have to guess half the words people said to him, and the most important conversations couldn't be misunderstood.

(...silent ways of flirting was another thing that he was asked a lot, so Taas has to try not to laugh any time he sees it used outside his 'classroom'.)

The door to the semi-broken tower that the soldiers used as a place to nap between shifts during the night was always open when Taas was teaching, and by now he had dragged some old benches and blankets there to make it a little more comfortable.

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"Wren," he adds as a confirmation, and then quietly watches her as she speaks. It was nice to see some mature women around, as they tended to have a good head on their shoulders and less inclined to deal with bullshit. Like a Tamassran, almost.

Her build definitely said fighter of some sort, though. Taas is a little curious, to be honest.

Still, she's looking for someone and aside from his quick assessment of her, he does pay attention. A scout with sandy hair. Young, but most of them were. Taas goes through hid mental register, but there wasn't much to go on.

"Possibly. I get most of the scouts in here for at least one lesson so they can communicate in the field. Do you have any other identifications? Most of them are young human men, and blonde is a rather common color."

“I fear we only met the once.” Methodically, she pushes a strand of hair behind an ear. A small, ritual gesture; the sort of thing that starts unconscious and grows into routine. “Speckled skin. Green eyes, I believe. His family were shepherds, but he and a brother were Chantry-raised. You would have been likely the first of your people that he met.”

Picking the right term — vashoth, tal-vashoth, qunari — is always something of a lottery. Better to avoid it altogether.

“If it’s too little, I understand. Perhaps there might be another means to draw him out. I would not press the matter, but I fear it time-sensitive. Have you worked with the scouts in the field?"

"Hmm..." Taas looks thoughtful again, rubbing his chin. (He needed a shave, he subconsciously notices.)

"I think I had a kid like that in here once a few weeks ago, but I haven't seen him since. He might only have come for the basics, or I scared him off." Some people only came for the curiosity of a qunari, after all. He, the Bull and the massive redhead human were the biggest people in Skyhold, and that always drew attention.

"I'm sorry that I cannot give you any more information than that. Is he a runaway?" What do you want with this child, the tone says even if he looks as polite as ever. 'Draw him out' was a warning sign.

"...and no, it would be rather counterproductive to bring someone who stands out as much as me on scout missions."

How is it that she’s never met a qunari with a beard? They all seem to keep to stubble. Perhaps it’s too much to care for, on top of horn maintenance.

You’d be a damn sight of a distraction while the rest snuck about, she wants to say, but this isn’t a conversation for jokes.

"It's of great aid." It gives her a timeline, however rough: her source might have seen Bergier, but not recently. "His brother is missing."

Not any time recently, but that’s a detail she doesn't care to get into here and now. Time to get on with it then: her posture shifts, the words deliberate.

"If they’ve been in contact, it narrows the search." She shakes her head. "I won’t lie: They could be in some deep shit. But it’s not too late for Jacques to clear his name. If anything’s happened, I can help him get out."

The Qun was all about efficiency; facial hair just tended to get messy when you had the wiry hair of a qunari - and it really is enough with the horns. Hell, Taas even has his braided hair to manage.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, and he sounds sincere. "I can keep an eye out for him, but it's probably better to hear with the scouts or the Nightingale. I've heard head scout Harding knows them by name."

Taas imagines the woman might already have done so, since his sign language class was kind of a long shot, but that was what he could help with. It sounded like a mess, and he can't quite shake away the sting of worry for this kid.

"Is there anything I can do?"

To hear it, hardy har.

"Other than keep your eyes open? I fear not. But this class is a great enough boon to the Inquisition, I'm sure."

She means that. You don't usually run into soldiers with more than a few of the basic signals. Out of necessity or not, he's brought a new skill to their arsenal.

"And now he'll have more than one gesture to communicate with." The quirk of a smile, a joke she hopes not to have to explain.

The warrior looks amused at that, even if he was filing the information away for later. Maybe the kid didn't want to be found, and maybe it was for a reason. Who knows.

Her mention of his little class has Taas smiling, though, and there's a little bit of pride in his brown eyes. "Oh, it's purely self-serving. This way I don't have to read the lips of everyone!" He says and gives her a little wink - and he definitely seems to get her joke, if his laughter is anything to go by.

"So what brings you to the Inquisition, ma'am... Wren? This lost boy?"

"Ser Coupe," By her expression it's not an admonishment — not when she's volunteered Wren — but the addition of information. Her casual warmth holds, but she watches him for hint of a reaction. She's handled too many vashoth not to own some wariness. "Corypheus brought me,"

If rather indirectly.

"Or at least the hope of putting an end to him. This current business..." A gesture. "...The attachment is personal, if not the search. And you, monsieur? What brings you to us?"

He doesn't seem to react in any way, just nodding. It was what brought most of them together - at leats those who could look above the normal human messes and see the real threat.

"What do you think of Skyhold then, Ser Coupe? Have you been here long?" She asks about him too, and says something Orlaisian that Taas technically knew but still had no idea how to pronounce. He rubs the back of his neck with a slight chuckle.

"I was not as valiant in my plans at first, I'm afraid. I came here as the bodyguard of a visiting noble, and he decided to void my contract. It meant I was stuck here for a while, and I got to know the people." Taas gives a little shrug. "It didn't take long for me to join after that."

"Such an isolated fortress? She must have been a marvel in her prime." And perhaps she may be restored yet — Haven had seen such renewal, before. Well. Before Skyhold ever became necessary. "I arrived a week past, with the Hinterlands wagons."

"But there is no shame to be found in one's work," At least not when the place is already crawling with mercenaries. "Nor in being open to opportunity. I trust the noble has been seen on his way?"

Sataari

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