Salamandridae | Open To All

[writteninblood]

WHO: Sorrel, Beleth, and anyone at Kirkwall
WHAT: Sorrel power-slides into Kirkwall like a 3AM anxiety attack, with a couple of prompts to that effect
WHEN: Mid-to-late Kingsway
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: tba

Kirkwall, approached from land, sat in the delta of the bay like a fat, squalid salamander. It clung to the hills, mottled and shining, just barely dipping its tail into the sea. Closer on, the walls seemed taller, more daunting, Sorrel's first impression of the City of Chains was much less painful. The city seemed like a reluctant amphibian; something caught awkwardly between, and failing in both directions.


i. Neurergus
He'd written ahead, to let Beleth, to ask her to meet him, at the gates. If she couldn't, he knew that she, faster than anyone, would be able to find someone to meet him in her stead-- the sending crystals, those fantastical devices, might not be available for common use among the Dalish, but he knew the Inquisition handed them out to every member, and quite a few hangers-on. And, as he drew nearer down the road, as the city grew larger and more noxious in his senses, Sorrel could only hope that someone would be waiting. Or would see him.

It wasn't as if he'd never seen a city, nor been inside the bounds of a human settlement, but this was one elf alone; dangerous enough even on familiar ground. He had no idea who-- what to expect. He's actually probably making any perceived danger more real, come to think of it. Nothing says noticeable quite like someone who's trying to take a nervous glance in every direction at once.


ii. Cynops
Sorrel had been ingrained from his youth with the habit that when one is nervous, anxious, or worried, one should do something with one's hands. There's always something, in an active Dalish clan, mending, sewing, carving, cooking-- in Sorrel's case, his hands fall on tea. He's not entirely sure where he is. The Gallows, he knows that much, and it's an apt name for a building as sharp and stained as this one. Some apartment he had been led to, small and sparse but there was a kettle, and a box with tea, and a jar. He hadn't looked in the jar yet. He wouldn't be much of a mage if he couldn't make tea with just that much.

So, if you're around the gallows, perhaps you'll smell it, and come knocking. That'd be just nice and neighborly of you, wouldn't it? Of course it would.


iii. Ommatotriton
Perhaps you've met Beleth? Beleth Ashara? Well, she's certainly happy to have met you-- as evidenced by the way that she's stopped you on your path and shoved her twin in your face. Ah yes, Sorrel and Beleth, inseparable as always; and that means, you get to meet the other half of Clan Ashara's own personal Dynamic Duo. (Choose this if you want Beleth to join the thread!)

Comments

iii

[circleprodigy]

Inessa has about a dozen things on her mind, so she doesn't notice Beleth until it's too late. And while she had been meaning to speak to the Scouting division head, this isn't quite as she'd pictured it. Coming to a halt, Inessa's eyebrows raise as she's suddenly face-to-face with two Dalish instead of one, and one of them unfamiliar. As the mabari at her side wags his tail and pads over to sniff at them, she nods politely.

"Ah--hello, Beleth. And to you, as well. I'm Warden Serra, and this is Garahel." The mabari barks happily. Friends?

[arlathvhen]

Beleth's first thought had been to take Sorrel to meet his former clanmates first--they were surely, after all, the ones he'd most want to know were still alive and in good health. So when she spots a white-haired lady elf from behind, she's quick to drag Sorrel by the hand over, and opens her mouth to greet--

Then she spots the dog, stops, stares at it, then slowly, her eyes drag upward to the elf in question's face, right as she turns towards them, and Beleth comes to the revelation: This is not Pel. This is an entirely different elf. This is an elf she hasn't actually met.

But Beleth's practiced enough at handling her facial expressions that only those closest to her (like the one at her elbow) might notice the hesitation, and quick glance to the side as Beleth thinks quickly, before her eyes turn back to Inessa, and she bursts into a warm smile.

"Hello, Warden Serra. This is my brother, Sorrelean. He's the First of our clan, and I thought that he might like to meet some of the other elven mages in the Gallows."

[writteninblood]

Sorrel makes that mistake too; and why not? There are few enough elves with pure white hair, if not from age. His first thought is only why would Pel be wearing that getup? It's only when Beleth hesitates that he realizes his own mistake and. Wait, what was That? Had she-- Oh, boy. Ha.

"Andaran atish’an," He starts, formal enough, then ruins any solemnity with a grin, "Please, call me Sorrel. I--"

Cold! Cold wet dog nose! This is a very large puppy.

"...dog? Hello to you too, dog."

[circleprodigy]

Not only a cold wet dog nose, but a dog tongue as well. As long as Sorrel doesn't flinch, Garahel licks him after deciding through sniffing that he likes the elven man well enough. Pleased to be addressed, he barks again and wags his tail, all friendly enthusiasm. Beleth gets the same greeting as well, if she doesn't back away from him. The big mabari pays attention to the moods of others and when he is or isn't welcome.

For a moment Inessa was worried that they might expect her to respond in kind -her elven pronunciation is not ideal- but that grin puts her more at ease, as does Beleth's smile. That introduction has her interest, and she nods, her own forming. "I'm pleased to meet you both. Actually, I meant to introduce myself to you earlier--" Said as she nods to Beleth. "--as I'm the new leader for the Rifts and the Veil project. Another mage is always welcome here, of course. I'm Circle-trained, myself, but I enjoy discussing magical theory and application with anyone interested, whatever the background. Are you here to visit, or to join?" Her gaze now turns to Sorrel, curious.

[writteninblood]

"I don't know if I count as much of an expert, compared to all that, but I'll do my best," Despite his obviously superior Dalish methodology, Sorrel isn't sure he'll be able to keep up with all the... the terminological...

She's a Grey Warden! And an authority! Circle-trained or not, that speaks to a higher expertise than Sorrel is confident he can keep up with.

"...Ah, I'm only visiting, I'm afraid," Sorel replies, offering Garahel ear-scratches for his trouble, grateful for the chance to avoid eye contact, "But I may be here a while, and I'm willing to pull my weight while I am. My first concern has to be Sina, of course; I'm worried-- I just want to help her, however I can. She is my wife, after all."

ii

[samahl]

Cyril did come knocking, but not because he smelt the tea. He liked the smell as he came nearer to the room, because it brought forth a lot of good memories, but he was here because he knew who was in the room. He had heard from the grapevine that Beleth's brother was there and had to see him.

The knock is hesitant despite the confidence he pretended he had. He wasn't sure that Sorrel would want to see him.

[writteninblood]

The suite is Beleth's and it's very nice-- for the location. He can't complain about privacy. Loneliness, more like. So, when he hears the knock, he's grateful. You spend more than twenty years pressed among your fellows and never think you'll mourn it when it's suddenly gone.

"Cyril?" He opens the door and, oh! A familiar face! "Cyril! Want some tea? It's fresh. You not too busy are you?"

[samahl]

He smiles at Sorrel's response and chuckles softly. "As if I would turn down tea from you," he says casually as he moves to enter the room.

"Plus we need to talk about your trip and how it went. Have you seen Sina yet?"

[writteninblood]

Sorrel's smiling to see him, stepping back to allow him entry, sifting the tea, easy, genial. Sina. He had to ask, didn't he?

"She's why I'm here," He turns abruptly to the kettle, holding it cupped in his hands. Focus. It's focus that will let him breathe, let him have the space he needs to be calm, "I had no idea it was getting that bad."

No one had told him. Oh, he'd known she wasn't well. But there was a difference between something that came and went, and the kind of thing that washed always up and up and up, like the rising waves of a tide.

"The trip was alright. I'm not sure the Keeper wanted to let me go, this close to wintering, but it's not as if there was any choice. Only a little trouble, nothing serious. I stayed to the byways, mostly. You know?"

[samahl]

Cyril presses his lips together in thought as he remembers the notice he got inviting him to join the experiment on Sina's shard. He wants to be there, to help where he can, but he isn't sure that Sorrel has heard about that part and wants to let her be the one to tell him.

Instead of bringing that up, he nods at the question. "I'm glad your journey was easy then, though if I find out who made trouble for you I might have to contact Merrick and slip them their names." He means it as a joke, but there is a vague honesty there.

"And I don't imagine your mother would be happy to let you go, but you have to do what is right by you and your family."

somewhere in the gallows idk

[eolasemah]

It is, to say the least, alarming to find Sorrel where Sina had no previous intention of meeting him. She's carrying her herb basket when she rounds the corner and there he is, causing her to stop short, blinking in surprise. However, she's quick to shift into pleasantry, stepping forward with an uncertain smile.
"Sorrelean," she greets him, "I didn't know you were coming."

[writteninblood]

"Sina."

It is in this moment that he realizes, with an abrupt, gut-dropping embarrassment, that he hadn't sent a note to her. He'd asumed, without cause, without the slightest thought, that someone would-- that Beleth would tell her he was on his way. That had been...

Well, it certainly hadn't been polite.

"I-- I got a letter. And the Keeper gave her permission and I..." He blushes, takes a deep breath, and tries again, fumbling desperately for the notion of grace, or dignity, or anything like balance, "...I heard you weren't well, so I came. Surprise?"

Nailed it.

[eolasemah]

She blushes in response to his, and though the moment is awkward, Sina doesn't seem unhappy about it. She steps toward Sorrel to gently take his hand, smiling up at him. "I'm glad you're here."

[writteninblood]

Easy, the release of pressure, and his answering smile is soft with fondness and relief. Thank goodness she understands, and that she's happy to see him. That might be silly-- of course she's glad for him, but... Ah, it doesn't matter, does it?

"I'm glad we're here together," Sorrel laces their fingers together, companionably, and only then remembers himself, "But, I interrupted what you were doing. Can I make it up to you by lending a hand?"

[eolasemah]

The gesture lends itself easily enough to a hug, and Sina leans in to embrace him, enjoying the warmth of a good friend who was a stranger not so long ago.
"I'm just taking things back to the garden," she explains, stepping back and looking into her basket, "what wasn't used by the Inquisition today can be given to locals." There's an assortment of tea packets and poultices, apparently left alone by its recipients. "Usually someone will come to collect them for Darktown, but only if I'm back in time." She smiles pleasantly. "Come with me? I want to show my forest."

i

[nadasharillen]

And indeed there is someone--a familiar enough face, if only from the wedding. Even if not, there's a wide smile across it flashing white against the nut-brown of her skin, a welcoming sparkle in the emerald of her eyes, and she's an elf. One with vallaslin.

"Aneth ara, lethallin!" she calls, voice light with good humor, "Welcome to Kirkwall, armpit of the Free Marches."

[writteninblood]

Sorrel whirls at the greeting, the familiarity of language and accent like a balm in the salt-harsh sea of Common in Ferelden and Kirkwall accents. It's strange, how the familiar can strike you, in a strange land, like light glancing of a dropped coin.

"Aneth ara," He replies, in good spirits and returns the smile with a lifted hand, "I'm glad to see someone's come to find me. I was about to just turn around and go home again, to save the trouble."

[nadasharillen]

"Knowing Beleth, there'd be more trouble to be had if you did that," Nari quips back with a grin, "and I know Sina will be happy to see you." She'll beckon him over towards the gates with a query: "Tired? Hungry?"

[writteninblood]

"Yes to both," He grins, sheepish despite the reasonableness of it. It's been a long week with plenty of walking, and little enough to show for it but distance. No reason to be shy about it, "But I'm not going to fall over if I have to wait. It's..."

He gestures vaguely at Kirkwall's imposing-- well, walls. Between the statuary and the general air of humanity, the place had a certain intimidation about it. It was enough to dampen an appetite.

"...It's my first time in a place this big, is all."

[nadasharillen]

"We'll do food first, then. You'll have to excuse the bustle on the way, but we've got a cozy little place near the harbor to put your feet up and... digest," Nari says, the word working for both food and place. "If you look out into the sea, it's just faraway land, water, and bright sails." She grins. "I'm growing to like the townsfolk enough, but sometimes the best shem'len are the ones you can look at from far away."

The artisan stretches, moving away from where she'd been leaning to wait, "Afterwards, if you like, we can go on a walking tour; or I can at least show you where not to go."

II

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

It's a cold, damp morning in Kirkwall, and Adasse was up way, way too early to get himself breakfast. He had training, both to officially get and to unofficially give. Remarkable how many bloody new Scouts didn't know how to pick a basic lock on a trunk ...

Either way, he grabbed up something to eat but figured he would just drink water when he got back to his own quarters, feeding Coco on his shoulder from the loaf he had grabbed, when he smelled the warm and welcoming scent of tea. Dark eyes brightening, he went to knock on the door where the smells were emanating.

"G'morning? I'll trade you a sweet roll for some of your tea, if you have enough to spare?"

[writteninblood]

Beleth's suite is Sorrel's too, for the time being. Everyone needs somewhere to retreat to-- and being the head of a division meant a certain expectation of privacy. So maybe he's surprised with a random flat-ear comes knocking but then... what else? The place is nothing but nosy neighbors.

Maybe there's something to like about that; it was familiar. Homey. It takes him a long, uncertain moment to open the door.

"...Cake for tea?" Who are you, mysterious stranger, "Alright. It's still steeping, though. You might as well come in."

That's polite, right? That's how politeness works.

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Well hello, it's a Dalish. A Dalish with incredible eyes. Adasse's smile kicks up a notch, and he beamed as he eased his way through the door. He had no idea these were Beleth's quarters -- but once he did know there might be a bucket of water balancing on the door waiting in her future or something. Beleth needs to have some fun.

This fellow looked like he needed it too, with those extraordinary eyes.

"You'd be surprised how hard it is to get a good cuppa when you've missed first breakfast call." He offered up the plate, flashing one of his best charming smiles, with Coco balanced curiously on his shoulder. "I'm Adasse, by the by. Who are you, handsome?"

[writteninblood]

"I--"

Sorrel hesitated, absently cradling the teapot in his hands, and eying bot Adasse and the plate as if they might leap up and bite him at any moment.

Wait, had he called Sorrel handsome? That's just... Had they met before? No, no that didn't make any sense. How did we go from simple greeting to-- wait, no, nevermind, it didn't matter. You look like an idiot, I'm Sorrelean Ashara. Say it. Say it!

"A-andaran atish’an, I'm Sorrelean Ashara," He took a deep breath, coloring pink around the ears and cleared his throat, hoping it would help. Well, that had been embarrassing, "Sorrel-- everyone calls me Sorrel. I've only arrived in the city just this morning."

[gottakeeponejumpahead]

Adasse flashed him another warm grin, going to settle himself down on the floor as he waited for the tea to steep. He tipped his head to the side, his smile flashing over his lips. Coco went to settle in his lap, and he put the plate to one side.

"Well nice to meet you, Sorrel." Ashara - ah! "So you must be related to Senior Scout Ashara." Huh. "And ... Ellana, and Cyril, come to think of it." He sits up a bit more, looking interested, "And what brings you here, handsome Sorrel?"