[I: OTA, II: Semi-Closed] Finding Forever

[nadasharillen]

WHO: Part I: Anyboooody!
Part II: Nahariel, Cade, and whoever's with Cade when he found
WHAT: I: Come get a free drink and tell Nari where you were when the Chantry blew up.
II: She has a cunning plan.
WHEN: A couple of days after the forest springs up
WHERE: I: Hanged Man
II: That good good new forest
NOTES: probable discussion of PTSD

Part I:

Nahariel spends a good day just... looking. Watching the general consternation of the populace that comes and goes, some of whom she'd seen come to leave items or worship at the crater before. They look unsure now. Something had happened here, something big and terrible. So she spends that night at the Hanged Man buying drinks--she hadn't much use for fine things, and her carvings had sold relatively well here--and asking for stories.

Word passes through the tavern pretty quickly that there's an elf at one of the corner tables doing this, and she greets anyone who sits down with a crooked smile, a drink of their choice, and a question:

"Where were you when the Chantry bombing happened?"


Part II:

The last person she spoke to that night was an off-duty Templar. The center of their faith, gone in an instant, their Knight-Commander in the grip of Red Lyrium fueled insanity, Abominations everywhere. The Templar looked harrowed, like they hadn't slept since--or not well, at least.

And Nari had seen that look before.

And she remembered what just a bit of her whistling a Chantry song had done.

And she got an idea.

The next day not too long after sunrise she put on her working leathers, divested herself of anything that could be considered a weapon--aside from her tools, of course--and set off to find Cade Harimann.

Comments

[doneisdone]

start a new life as farmers, wait-- Teren, what happened to you, when did you go soft? If she leaves now they'll still be dealing with him by the time she's halfway to Wycome, an--

"Oh. This is about that bloody forest." No pun intended. She blinks, narrows her eyes, and decides to chance the drink. "It means there's a forest in Hightown, an aesthetic improvement if you ask me." A sip.

"...I was in the Deep Roads." Probably. It was around then.

[nadasharillen]

She'll nod slowly, considering how abrupt and unconcerned the Warden was. Which either meant she cared a lot, or the opposite.

"I don't imagine news got there very quickly." A sip of her own.

[doneisdone]

One might say Teren cares selectively, the level to which depends entirely on the issue. This, as far as she knows, is about a bunch of rich people being inconvenienced and frightened. And that's hilarious.

"You imagine right," she says, checking toward the door, though her guard has loosened some. One might get the impression she's always a little on-edge, at least in public, crowded places. "Truth be told, it could have happened at any point while I was down there, and I was none the wiser. I found out, oh... a week or so after, I suppose." Her shrewd eyes flicker over Nari, in a way less judgmental than simply appraising.
"You don't strike me as a devout Andrastian." Translation: what are you getting at.

[nadasharillen]

"I'm not," Nari replied with a shrug and a small quirk of a smile. "I just care about places, and the meanings they have for people."

[doneisdone]

"Fair enough." Teren can relate, not that she'd ever admit it. She falls silent for a time, nursing her drink and thinking. Then, "have you heard much worth your while?"

[nadasharillen]

"Well, to begin with, everyone wants to know why I want to know," she replies, the quirked smile returning, "not that that's too odd. Seems like the whole thing is a thorn in a lot of hearts, and when something touches that deep, you want to know why they're poking."

[doneisdone]

"Right," Teren says, glancing her over again, "I suppose that makes sense. And it's not a thorn in yours? What do you plan to do with the information?"

[nadasharillen]

There's a decent pause as Nari considers whether to demure or be honest. She decides that the other woman is the type who can scent the truth in people's pockets and has little patience for niceties--not unlike Thalia.

"It's not, no," she says finally, refilling her tankard. "We heard it of course, when it happened, even in the heart of the forest. We could see the dust in the sky. But to me, it was just the sound of shem'len killing shem'len. When we eventually found out it was the Chantry that had been destroyed..." the elf shrugs slightly, her green eyes matter-of-fact, "Well. There was no love lost between the Chantry and the Dalish. It was vaguely satisfying to think that someone had taken them to task for whatever crimes they'd been party to this time.

"On the whole, before the Inquisiton, I cared about shem'len the same way you might care about a pack of wild, violent dogs that've taken up residence nearby," she says wryly, then follows it up with a small smile. "Living and working with them for the last few years has shifted my perspective a bit. To my surprise, you all had feelings after all. Ones I could understand. I'd like to help make the new forest a proper monument to the different things that were lost on that day."

[doneisdone]

Teren smirks, appreciative of her honesty, perhaps enjoying the phrase 'shem'len killing shem'len'. The number of times she's thought the very same about the various Orlesian slapfights...
"So you cared about them the way I care about Tevinter and Orlesian invaders," she observes, "and don't trouble yourself, pretty, not all of us have feelings." It's obviously a joke, and she pats Nari's hand. "That's as good a reason as any. I wish you luck in it."