I. CLOSED.

[feckless]

WHO: Caliban and Others
WHAT: A new arrival Skyhold.
WHEN: Mid-Firstfall.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: Initial arrival is closed, later Firstfall threads that are open pending (or will tag into other things).

The scruffy pony probably did most of the work in what had felt, to a natural born city dweller, like an arduous and treacherous journey through the icy slopes of the Frostback Mountains. These peaks had been simply a backdrop on a clear day. Travelling into the heart of them felt as feasible as entering an oil painting.

Yet here he is. Caliban gets past the guards with a token of permission: the dim green glow nested in the palm of his hand.

Not much else in the way of instruction, though, but he didn't exactly make conversation. He leads his mount into the muddy courtyard, a stranger, if people are getting used to familiar faces by now. The clothing he is bundled in is peasant-made and unimpressive, and he has a bow and quiver at his back, and a hefty bundle with the feathered ends of arrows peaking, tied to the saddle. A cowl disguises pointed ears, but sometimes you can just tell in these parts, with the narrowness of his face and the brightness of his eyes, without any tribal markings to otherwise distinguish him.

It's warmer, up here. He'd noticed that before, but his journey seems to have set a chill in his bones that is stubborn to shake. Stiffly, he forces himself to let go of the reins, and awkwardly kick a foot out of the stirrup. His dismounting swiftly becomes an awkward slip and collapse.

Comments

[ombranera]

Go to the mire, he thought, it would be FUN he thought, a mission for the ages- he is wet, weary, cold, and shrugging out of his own pack in the courtyard when the muddied figure wanders their way in. Another elf, not quite dalish, with that strange glow all the rifters carried.

Odd.

Zevran is curious enough to watch but not so much as to approach- at least until the elf started to collapse. Decency (when did THAT become a thing) spurs him to dart forward and sling an arm around the elf's waist, helping him meet the ground in a more gentle fashion. "Easy- you are frozen to the bone, are you not? Let us get you to a fire to thaw."