faderift | [OPEN]

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nerva does not seem to even understand that it was a joke, let alone laugh at it. "I am sure the world would similarly be better off without Lyrium," she replied bluntly. She should know.

She frowned at the question. "Yes. But they would have no desire to do so - no need for vengeance, no need to break the peace. You could, of course, and they would not take offense, but similarly you would not be able to motivate them very well for war. It would be as everything else was - without passion. Wars fought with tranquil would be difficult, and pointless."

She wasn't a hundred percent sure that was true - the thought was a disturbing one. But she said it with conviction, regardless.

Conviction is, sometimes, good enough. That's how she brontoshits her way through life, after all. "You could order them to fight, but then what's the point in fighting for something you don't actually believe in?"

She thinks she understands. They're still unsettling to observe, though.

"Morale is important. They have no morale, they simply accept their fate as it was given. They make poor weapons. They are best as they are - caretakers, researchers. Peaceful children of the maker." She sounded a little whistful as she looked off in their direction, and then seemed to remember herself.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. Nerva Lecuyer, formerly of the circle at Monte-de-glace. Now of the Inquisition."

Her nose wrinkles, just a little. "I wouldn't call them children, but I think I see your point."

Oh. Right. Introductions. She's always been bad at those. Nobody in Orzammar cared who she was, and she didn't really have a reason to introduce herself in the Carta to anyone they were robbing or extorting.

But it would be rude to not. "It's okay, I didn't ask. I'm Rachette. Also now of the here, basically."

"Everyone is a child of the Maker," She replied easily enough, though there was no stern tone to it - it was obviously just something that she said, because she had always said it, rather than a real admonishment.

"Well met, Rachette. It is good too see dwarves joining the cause." She said, as if she had volunteered completely out of faith and not out of desperation, and as if she hadn't just joined up herself.

Chette didn't say anything about the whole Maker thing. Live and let live, even if she didn't buy into it. (Or the Herald of Andraste. Fancy title, but she wasn't about to attribute anything about her to a mythical figure. At least the Paragons were real, documented people.)

"The cause," she started, "doesn't get me immediately killed or imprisoned, but it's true, there are never enough dwarves around. Too many still huddled in Orzammar, pretending what happens on the surface doesn't impact them below, I'm sure."

She frowns at that, and raises an eyebrow. In truth, she knew little of Orzammar at all, so the words confused her.

"Killed or imprisoned? Would you be so, otherwise?"

Chette gives as casual a shrug as she can manage. "When the Inquisition found me and my companions, those were my options apart from joining. Pillaging and stealing and extorting and smuggling, those seem to be frowned upon here," she adds with a smirk. "I hadn't much a life in the Carta, and I haven't yet had much a life here. We'll see if that changes."

A look of disapproval crosses Nerva's face - as if she ate something and found that the aftertaste was bitter. She doesn't, however, comment on that distaste. After all, she was hardly doing anything better before joining.

"The Inquisition offers all of us a chance at a meaningful life," She said instead, firmly, as if convincing herself of it. "I am sure you will find yourself called to better action, here."

It's hardly the worst look she's ever gotten, on the surface or back home. Though it will always rankle somewhere under her skin, outwardly she lets it slide off. "At the very least," Rachette starts, "I'll find myself called to a safe place to sleep and fairly equal rations."

She might also find herself called to shiny things and precious items to sell or barter off later. Though she conveniently leaves that part out. Better to at least try not getting arrested, thanks.

[OPEN]

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