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WHO: Cade Harimann, you?
WHAT: A weary and disoriented Templar shambles through the gates of Skyhold, seeking Commander Cullen. Most would be advised not to agitate him, but mages in particular are likely to find themselves at swordpoint.
WHEN: Not long after everyone left for the Fallow Mire.
WHERE: Skyhold gates
NOTES:This might be weird but I want to request that responders keep the scene to one thread, since I imagine he's only going to arrive once and I think it would be cool if things happen simultaneously. (please let me know if this isn't cool for some reason)
WHAT: A weary and disoriented Templar shambles through the gates of Skyhold, seeking Commander Cullen. Most would be advised not to agitate him, but mages in particular are likely to find themselves at swordpoint.
WHEN: Not long after everyone left for the Fallow Mire.
WHERE: Skyhold gates
NOTES:This might be weird but I want to request that responders keep the scene to one thread, since I imagine he's only going to arrive once and I think it would be cool if things happen simultaneously. (please let me know if this isn't cool for some reason)
The journey alone from Redcliffe had been taxing in itself, and the long and winding way up the mountain pass to Skyhold had Cade near collapse. He had defected from his company in the Hinterlands, and while common sense stated he should go into hiding and leave the life behind, his blood yearned for lyrium and he knew he still belonged to the Order-- whatever state it was in, and whatever it chose to do with him now.
Wearing his lighter traveling armor, Cade wandered in the front gates and peered around the open courtyard. There was a strange look in his eyes as he took it in, and became aware that this couldn't be real; there couldn't be a Qunari over there next to a Circle mage, with no armored templars in sight. Something was terribly wrong with this place.

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In any case, as Twisted Fate steps out from the tavern, the elf pauses and tips his hat back slightly to watch the stranger step into the courtyard with a confused gaze. There's something familiar in that look of his eyes.
Cautiously, Twisted Fate approaches the stranger, wearing a smile on his face.
"Looking for someone or someplace, bright eyes?"
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"Where are the others," he demanded hoarsely; whether he meant other Dalish ready to ambush, or other Templars, or other something else, it wasn't clear. His attention was torn to a girl sitting on a ledge, at whom he cast an anxious and questioning glance before looking back to the elf.
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For now, he carefully watches the man before him, and a well groomed brow is raised at the hand settling onto his blade.
"I don't suppose you want to clarify your question?" the elf muses, keeping his arms open in an attempt to seem unthreatening. Look, he's unarmed, how terribly harmless of him. "I wanna help you out, but there's plenty of others here."
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The tone is drifting, almost absent. If she knows she's a part of the conversation or isn't, or whether or not she's simply talking to herself isn't clear. What is is her focus on the templar.
"There's so much out of place, wolves left untended. Worrying."
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And then the sword is pointed at him. If only that was the first time that'd happened. Twisted Fate tips his head down, peering under his hat, glancing at River for a moment before putting his attention back to this templar.
"Easy there, friend," he says with a click of his tongue. "He's alive. But I'm not his caretaker, so I couldn't say where is right now. But if you'd be so inclined as to maybe put that pointy thing away, I might be able to see about finding him for you. Hm? Sound like a deal?"
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"He's just afraid. Nothing's where it should be."
Not that that made him any less dangerous. He was a templar, after all. But he wasn't one of the malicious ones, like the corpses in Redcliffe. That had to count for something, didn't it?
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As the thought hit him, it was like a switch had been flipped; without waiting for so much as a response, he drove his blade toward the ground. A bright flash of light emanated from where it made contact, and every mage in the close vicinity would, however briefly, suddenly find themselves unable to cast.
A clamor of surprise and aggravation rose from the nearby healing tents.
[Note: I'm having him do a Spell Purge. If anyone takes issue with this please say so and/or correct me!]
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And before he can react, the damned idiot is using his abilities, shutting out magic in the immediately vicinity. Twisted Fate clenches his fists; he hates that's a thing any of them can do, but he can't fuss about it right now. Snapping and yelling at him isn't going to make him any calmer.
That, and Twisted Fate has one less thing he can use at all to protect himself. Fantastic.
"She can't hurt you, or are a few words from a girl enough to unravel the big tough templar?" he says flatly, holding up his hands openly to continue to attempt to display himself as harmless. "If you'll just sit and mind yourself, we can look into fetching Cullen to sooth your paranoia. Wouldn't that be nice for everyone?"
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This was the power of the templars. This was what her brother feared, men filled with power older than they knew, a thirst born of something larger...with a wince she clapped her hands to her ears and sank back, shoulders hunched, a faint whimper slipping free.
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"Go, then," he hissed, gesturing at the elf as the world began to swim around him anew. He shouldn't have tapped into the Fade with such low lyrium, that much was certain. His sword felt loose in his hand as he gave it a threatening swipe in front of him, urging Twisted Fate along, though he betrayed himself a moment after by stumbling to one knee. He would die here, he knew. Like this, alone, at the hands of whatever other apostates these two were keeping hidden just out of sight.
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"Hey now, bean. You feel like comin' with me away from this excitable guy?" For what it's worth, his intentions are sincere enough. It seems like getting the girl far away from the templar would be a smart idea at this point while he's stuck trying to find someone who knows where the hell Cullen is.
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It's breathless babbling to herself until the elf kneels beside her. Her whole body feels wrong without that tie to the Fade, but it's coming back, creeping back in as the templar's purge starts to fade. She stares at Twisted Fate for a moment, swallowing thickly before her eyes shift back to Cade.
"He needs help."
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He felt drunk as he watched her, and despite the kindness of her words, they terrified him; if she knew some things, then she knew everything. One quivering hand rose to cover his face. He'd really done it this time.
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"And he's going to get it." Whether Twisted Fate thinks he should have it or not. "Look, y'can watch him if you want, but if I come back and he's got his sword in you, I ain't saying sorry to you, bean."
He glances at the templar. "You get that? Try to keep your pointy bits to yourself. Be best that way."
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The elf gets a shaky nod in response. She's not alright, she won't lie and say so, but he's done all the damage he's going to do for now. He needs someone to watch him, and she can do that from a distance.
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"They'll bring it back," she murmured, after a moment. "Stop the shaking. They don't like it when people hurt."
Her tongue darted quickly over her chapped lips, toes curling against the stone. No good trying to get closer, he'd spook. Let him have his little bubble.
Sorry for slowness, holiday traveling!
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Whether an observation or an echo of his own thoughts, it was hard to tell. But there was certainly a young woman sitting barefoot on a stone ledge, observing the templar make his way into the bailey proper. She knew little of Circle life or the templars, other than the fear her brother had tried to instill in her, but the rigid structure made sense.
Simon had been much lighter before he left for the Circle.
Her dirty feet swung slightly as she cooked her head, watching Cade curiously as he walked.
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