faderift | it's all in the cards [OPEN]

WHO: Twisted Fate & YOU, hopefully!
WHAT: Who wants to go mucking around the mire? Not this guy. Twisted Fate is more interested in socializing back at Skyhold until he's inevitably deployed there.
WHEN: A few hours span.
WHERE: Skyhold tavern.
NOTES: N/A

There's been a certain air of somberness about Skyhold since the death of the Herald. It's a might bit irritating, but still understandable; from Herald to martyr, and remembered companion by some, and it leaves for a sorry looking tavern if he's ever seen one.

He'd like to change that a bit. It's not necessarily a morale thing. Boosting the troops isn't exactly a skill of his, but it is some usefulness in keeping spirits up. That, and it could earn some favors.

Something he's keen on having.

Sitting at a table, one of the handful of Dalish elves present in the Inquisition is sitting with his legs propped up on the table and his chair leaned back. He's not dressed conventionally anything like your typical Dalish elf; fine tailored pants, an Orlesian silken vest, and a personally sewn coat that certainly doesn't look inexpensive, topped off with a hat that's far from forgettable. But he is Dalish, established by the vallaslin on his face, curling around his mouth and across his forehead.

When he looks at the other patrons, he smiles, like he knows something and he's all too happy to ensure that he won't share what that something is.

In his hands, he idly shuffles a deck of cards, and they curl almost elegantly against his fingers.

A card twirls between his fingers when he spots you -- yes you.

"Care for a game?" Twisted Fate grins a little more sharply. "Or maybe just a drink."

Talking or playing, or perhaps both. These are both things that he can do.