[OPEN]

[keeperofmagi]

WHO: Nerva Lecuyer and literally anyone who wants in on the fun
WHAT: A Templar escorting two Tranquil arrives at Skyhold
WHEN: From nowish and open to people as they come back from the Mire
WHERE: The courtyard
NOTES: lots of hatred

It was incredibly cold, and getting colder, but the deep fur cloak around her shoulders insulated her armour and kept most of the wind off, so it was bearable. Her charges, however - two Tranquil that she had rescued as she fled from the Templars - were difficult. They would not mind the cold even if it was killing them, so she had to be extra vigilant in checking them over for frostbite every night that they made camp. When they finally made it to Skyhold, her soul was as exhausted as her body, and she only made a very cursory introduction before pleading for a place to lay her head, and for protection for the Tranquil. Once she had both, she slept for a long time.

The next morning was bright and clear, and the air felt warmer in the castle despite the early winter that stormed in the mountains around them. She was at a loss, for a few minutes, as to what she should be doing - the entire Inquistion unfamiliar and disconcerting. So few templars, and so many mages, coming and going freely, with no regulation or safety structures in place...

She would take her concerns directly to the leaders of the Inquisition, once she better understood the situation. Until then, it was time to get her bearings.

Training in the courtyard made things easier - let her take her mind off of everything and focus only on shield and blade. She had to pause, however, as she found that her two charges were watching her, waiting for orders.

"The Inquisition is our Order now," she told them solemnly. "You do not report to me, but I am at your disposal if you are in need of any assistance." She knew that assistance would never be requested, but she would offer it again, when she saw them.

Later, she would spend a long time in the Chantry, trying to find some kind of guidance.

Comments

[girlinthebox]

The Tranquil were horrifying, a glimpse of what might have happened, what still might. They would never hear the songs pressing through the Veil, never see or touch or taste in any sense but a practical one. They were empty, echoing and hollow, and she shied away from them quite visibly.

Which might have explained how she'd gotten up onto that stone ledge in the first place, bare feet dangling near the edge of a banner. It was a good view of the training ring and the soldiers passing through it.

There was a new one today, a woman with severe features and a terrible darkness clinging to her. They liked her, but couldn't touch her. She was too full of the other thing, solid as stone, and couldn't be filled or taken or touched.

Not anymore.

Her dark eyes followed the woman's movement as she swung her sword, hefted her shield, but neither weapon was as impressive as the sharp steel under her skin.

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva's focus was intense - working through the training routine without a spared thought for the world around her. All that existed were shield and blade. Unknowing, she reached for the other and solidified reality around her. Stone and steel.

It wasn't until she finished that she gave in to the creeping feeling that she was being watched. She set down her shield against the training dummy - nearly as tall as it was - and scanned the training area for the source of the feeling. She almost would have missed the girl, save for the glimpse of bare feet. Nerva shot a look up to the girl on the edge, her brow furrowing as the hair raised on the back of her neck.

She sheathed her sword and walked over.

"That is not safe," She said firmly, "And if you should fall, you endanger others." She managed to stop before simply commanding the girl to come down - after all, she did not have the authority to do so - but the unspoken words clipped against he teeth like iron.

[girlinthebox]

If you should fall, you endanger others. More true than she knew, at a glance. Layers that almost brought a smile to her face, but instead only brought a mild twitch to her lips.

"Not safe," she repeated softly, feet swinging, heels gently bumping up against the cold stone as they bumped backward. Her skin had started to goosepimple in the chilly breeze, but it was a secondary sensation.

And she hadn't so much as blinked at Nerva yet.

[sistertohermen]

Rachette was not a fan of the cold. She'd barely encountered it in the cozy depths of Orzammar, chills running through the darker tunnels and in the deep abandoned places where darkspawn never slept, had tried to get used to it on her time on the surface. So this whole cold and winter thing? Not a big fan of it.

But she wasn't about to let that show. If she was going to be effective for this whole Inquisition, then she'd have to suck it up and get used to it. Which meant being out and about.

It also meant, in this case, watching some new face talking to two other people with extremely blank, calm faces. They unnerved her with how they seemed to have no reaction to anything around them. She kept watching from a short distance, squinting as if she might discern something more about the situation. At some point when they had gone, slow and distant as ever, she had to poke around.

"What's wrong with them?"

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva turned to the voice, glancing down to see the dwarf. That, at least, explained why she did not know - and for good reason. Dwarves were free of the curse of magic.

"They are the Tranquil," She explained simply. "Former mages who have forsaken nearly everything, for protection and peace. There is nothing wrong with them - they are what they are."

[sistertohermen]

What she new of mages, she knew only the basics. The idea of Tranquil didn't even register. She also didn't seem convinced by the basic explanation. "You say former mages--they give up their magical ability? Is that even possible?"

[wickedchase]

Ah, good. It's always wonderful, seeing a few Tranquils; nothing quite like a sobering moment of running into people robbed of magic and emotion.

An old, sturdy log is positioned in the courtyard, and it's an excellent makeshift bench for one to use. At the moment, Twisted Fate had been content to observe everyone else while dabbling through a novel he's giving partial attention to. The Dalish elf's eyes only glance up when he watches the templar arrive with said Tranquils.

Well, at least she isn't a lyrium-depraved idiot waving a sword around.

No time like the present to play nice. Putting on a smile, the elf shuts his book and places his hat onto his head as he approaches.

"Welcome to Skyhold." The grin remains. "Don't suppose you need to be pointed anywhere?"

[keeperofmagi]

The Dalish always put her on edge. It wasn't just how many apostates they created - and either kept, or let loose on an unsuspecting world - but in general how much they flouted the rules of society. The structure. She was surprised, to see one here at all, and her brow furrowed, lips turning downward.

Why was he grinning at her? Was he mocking her?

"I have been given instruction," She said with an oddly formal clip to her voice, the Orlesian accent readily apparent. "I am looking only for refuge for my charges."

[wickedchase]

It's almost hilarious how much his smiling seems to put people off here. Though it makes sense; she's clearly a templar, and Orlesian to boot. A wandering, grinning Dalish elf would be a thing, wouldn't it?

When he smiles now, it's somehow almost wider.

"What, the Tranquils?" He tilts his head. "Not planning on sticking around, then? What a shame. Love the accent."

[amygdalae]

The Tranquil were... well. If Bruce had to be brutally honest, he was rather envious of the Tranquil. It wasn't a popular opinion and he knew that well, but compared to himself? Being Tranquil would be a blessing, especially when even death wouldn't take him.

All of his personal feelings really didn't matter right now, though. The only obvious thing was that there were yet more Tranquil in Skyhold now, and somebody had to help them since most of the Templars were too busy for it. And the Tranquil deserved so much better than being ignored and pushed around just because they wouldn't say anything.

When he had some spare time from his usual duties Bruce went over to where the newest Tranquil were busy working in the garden, and wordlessly Bruce helped him in cleaning up the place. A fair bit of work had been done to the place here, but it would still be a while off before they could have a functional garden to grow their herbs on a larger scale.

[keeperofmagi]

Even though it wasn't technically her job any more, Nerva kept a close eye on her Tranquil charges - checking on them daily, to make sure they weren't being harassed, or mistreated. Or ignored. So when she arrived to check on them in the garden, only to find someone else helping them as they worked, she was a little taken aback.

As she walked over, the two Tranquil looked up, greeting her in their calm, inflectionless voices, and went back to work while she frowned at Bruce. For a moment, she even wondered if he was another Tranquil.

"We have not met, but I hope that I am greeting you in friendship. I am Nerva."

[amygdalae]

If the footsteps weren't evident enough, the Tranquil pausing in their duties to greet the newcomer was enough to clue Bruce in that somebody else was here. When he heard her speak to him, Bruce straightened up from where he had been crouched on the ground and looked at her, immediately spotting the Templar attire that she wore.

"Bruce." He returned mildly, inclining his head in equal politeness. "It's a pleasure, Ser Nerva."

[aggregiopavali]

He'd watched the arrival of the Templar and the Tranquil silently from above in the battlements. He'd seen so many Tranquil in Kirkwall, and they never failed to make him shiver. As much as he detested what magic could do, to see them turned into emotionless creatures like that... it was vaguely horrific.

Training was part of his own daily routine, so he made his way down to the courtyard to carry out his self-imposed task, watching the woman out of the corner of his eye as he darted and dived, totally at odds with the huge sword he used, nearly as large as himself.

[keeperofmagi]

She always had the ability to keep herself from being distracted while she trained, but some days were more difficult than others. Training with an elf, a sword that long and tattoos all over him, was different. She thought at first that he was Dalish - she didn't know enough about their markings to be able to distinguish them - but something about him was strange and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She did not, as a rule, give in to her curiosity. But as she finished her routine, the sweat making her armour uncomfortable, she gave herself a break and allowed herself to watch him for a moment as she carefully pulled off her plate. (She always trained with it, because she always fought in it.)

"You are surprisingly skilled with that blade," She said out loud, after several minutes. "I had not thought it a common weapon among elves."

[aggregiopavali]

"It's not," he confirmed. "Most elves I've met either use magic," and that word was spat out, like he didn't want to linger on it, "or else use bows. I like to be different."

Which in a way summed up Fenris perfectly. The Dalish tended to make his teeth itch a little... or a lot. City elves were always so oppressed, without truly knowing what oppression was. He truly was a law unto himself. "You handle yourself well."

[el_tybs]

Climbing that wall was tiring, but he could certainly feel himself improving each time he scaled it. Even so he could only do it twice before he had to take a break. With the weather as nice as it was probably just call it a day and work on some of his other lessons.

Grabbing a cup and water, a towel around his neck, Sam wanders over to the courtyard to who is training today. It was always fun watching other people practice when he was relaxing. He isn't surprised, but is curious to see a completely new face in the ring today. He doesn't know the fighting style, but he can recognize some similarities in the form.

And then she's stopping, walking over to the fence to talk to two people -he hadn't even noticed them come up. He can't see their faces, but something about them feels off. As quickly as they showed up they then leave. Focusing on the woman again he can see that she seems less energetic from the interaction.

"Everything alright?" he calls over, taking a drink from his cup.

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva frowns at the voice, looking over to see who was talking to her, and meeting an unfamiliar face.

"Yes," She replied simply, as if slightly confused by the fact that they were talking, but - she was new here, she had to remind herself. Her curiousity was not the only one at play. She stepped over towards him.

"I have asked them to inform me if they have suffered any prejudice, and I am afraid there always is, with the Tranquil. But it is nothing of overdue concern."

[afilthwizard]

"Smith!"

He assumed it had to be the man opening the door, yelling it out without looking. No same person would come wandering into this frozen waste of stone and openly visible sky that was the undercroft of Skyhold, naturally it would be the smith.

That entire view of the sky horror was the very issue Bernard was seeing to now, this project taking up far more of his first few days in the Inquisition than setting up the actually enchanting station. The problem was, given he was not an unnatural giant like so many in this surface place, he'd need assistance in getting the rigging up towards the ceiling to fully block his view. This need meant that despite his normal loathing of any company, the blacksmith's arrival was timely. Without looking up from his current project of tangled cloth and rope, he carried on with his shouting.

"Smith? Smith! Come here."

[keeperofmagi]

The description she'd been given of the undercroft was bizarre, but - once she actually arrived there - was found to be fitting.

All the more fitting, perhaps, when the first sight she took in was of a dwarf seemingly attempting to wrap himself in a cocoon of fabric and help, shouting ceaselessly for a man who wasn't there.

"The smith isn't present," She said back, her voice a little louder than her usual as she took the steps down. "Are you in need of assistance?"

She really didn't see how he couldn't be.

[perseverances]

Cullen has seen far too many Tranquil for them to bother him anymore. He had once thought it had been a necessary evil to carry it out. Now, he realizes, while it might be necessary to some, it wasn't necessary for all. He was too impressionable in his youth after the circle tower in Ferelden fell, and he blames himself for not being more steadfast.

Nerva isn't the only one down in the courtyard at that moment, Cullen having had some business down there with some of the more newer recruits. He spends a few minutes watching her train, the way she holds her sword, the way she holds her shield. He knows when to not interrupt, especially during training, and while there's a moment where he would have said she was too tense, another scout comes up to him with a report.

Should she notice he were there, he'd offer her a nod.

[keeperofmagi]

When she finishes - panting slightly from the effort - she turns to grab her hand cloth from the fence and wipe her brow, spotting the Commander at the edge of the training area. She never met him, no, but she was provided with ample (and often unnerving) description. So she set down her gear - if not her armour - and stepped over to introduce herself.

"Commander Cullen, I presume?" She inquired once the scout had run off. She offered a stiff bow. "Nerva Lecuyer, formally a Templar from the Order in Orlais. I have come to surrender my services, and my sword."

[equanimiti]

Knight-Commander Sauveterre is a man rarely seen these days. Having been burdened with work more so than usual, Alayre finds himself ridiculously busy. Relations between the Order and Magi are still quite tense even after coming to learn of the magi's makeshift council. Now possibly tasked with the chore of keeping this alleged council in check; Alayre honestly finds his free time to be quite lacking.

This is why he takes such pleasure in testing his swordsmanship against others.

Currently enjoying a brief spar with a fellow Templar, Alayre pauses briefly once be catches sight of the armored woman. A newcomer? The Knight-Commander arches his brow under the silver-steel of his horned helmet. Surely the arrival of a fellow Templar would've reached his ears sooner than this. With so few members of the Order present; just the addition of one other is quite tremendous.

[keeperofmagi]

She was so new that she had no idea of the state of the order, and had seen so few of her fellow templars that she was starting to despair for the future of the Inquisition. (Far too many mages, with far too much freedom, left virtually unchecked.)

So when she caught sight of the Knight-Commander, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of relief. Once she finished her routine, she stepped over to him.

"My apologies, but I feel I must introduce myself." She put a hand to her chest, and gave a stiff bow. "Nerva Lecuyer, at your service, Ser."

[In the dungeons, not long after people returned from the Mire]

[onlyhymns]

It was likely that word would reach Nerva that one of her people (whatever that meant) had been detained for having a meltdown at the gates of Skyhold, and no one had bothered to claim him.

The Templar in question was a tired-looking man in his thirties, who over the course of a week had gone a bit fuzzy-faced and calmed down considerably. Although he hadn't been mistreated, on account of nobody being entirely sure what he had done before going on the offensive in the courtyard, he was supplied with the accoutrements of a typical prisoner. Sitting with a rough-hewn blanket over his shoulders and staring at the wall, Cade was not nearly as upset as one might expect of someone who had been recently incarcerated.

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva had absolutely no idea why they came to her, but once they said 'your people', she assumed that they had just looked for the first templar that they could find, and happened to find her first. She was possibly the lowest raking templar in the entire castle, but duty was duty and there were few enough of them as it was.

What they didn't bother to tell her, of course, was what happened. So when she was led to the dungeons, her frown only grew, her brows furrowing until by the time she came to Cade's cell she looked like she could kill Qunari with a glare.

She rapped her fingers on the bars to get his attention.