faderift | Salamandridae

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!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"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.

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."

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?"

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 would love to," He replies, returning her hug with only a moment's hesitation-- and then warmly. Touch, real touch, firm and warm and undeniable, and yet like this it was obvious how small Sina was, and how thin. Something tight and sharp clenched in Sorrel's chest, "What, a whole forest? I can't miss that."

Sina's garden! What's not to want about that? And besides, hadn't he wanted to work there with her before?

"Lead the way."

As they make their way to Hightown, they get more than a few stares: Sina is familiar enough to the regulars, but now there's another Dalish with her, just as wild and painted as the stereotype. Though she's on decent enough terms with a lot of the Inquisition's humans, Sina still lowers her gaze and moves quickly through the crowd, never fully able to shed her distrust of both cities and shems. All the while she keeps her hand clasped to Sorrel's, so he won't get lost or overwhelmed. It's easy to do, at first.

He'll see the forest long before they're near it, as it towers as tall as the Chantry and presides over the lower buildings of Hightown. She wasn't exaggerating; it is well and truly a forest, with mature trees, abundant vegetation, and very little to suggest any touch of civilization. The only indication that anyone comes here is a path worn into the dirt and grass of the floor by the footsteps of those who come to harvest, meditate, or simply walk around.
As soon as they enter, the sounds of the city seem to grow distant, overpowered by the birdsong in the canopy overhead.

Sorrel is as wary as she is, and still too sure of the strangeness of everything around them to confuse Kirkwall for anything but what it is; enemy territory. Even if that were true, as cobbles give way to good earth and living root underfoot, the smell and sounds pull him forward like a song.

"This is beautiful," He breathes, looking up at the sunlight made green, inhaling deeply. It is beautiful, truly, but it can't have been here for long-- the Shemlen would have taken it for fuel before they'd allow this sanctuary to stand with no purpose, "Your forest, is it?"

Ah, now here's the real Sorrel, grin turned a little wry and with a gentle, teasing nudge to accompany the sentiment. All this, all Sina's-- she claimed it for her own, didn't she?

"You did all this?"

If so, he's impressed.

Sina meets his smile with a grin, just a touch of humor behind it. "It was dead," she explains, "the ground was poisoned by all that happened here. So I fixed it." She turns a little circle as she steps further in, a dance-like, girlish motion one wouldn't normally expect from her. "Pel and Velanna helped me. It wouldn't have been possible without them."

And Sina just comes alive, if only for a moment. Sorrel laughs, enchanted, and makes a helpless explanatory gesture at the towering life around them.

"Modest and talented?" He's teasing, even if the compliment is sincere, "But you were the one who started it, and now you take herbs here, to those who need it. I've never fought corruption like that, before."

He can't quite seem to stop smiling; how strange, to feel somehow safe, even here, so far from all that is fest and free and home-like. A little secret place, healed by Dalish hands. Amazing.

"Sina, you're amazing. Do you think you could teach me too?"

She gives a little laugh, hands over her mouth, flattered by Sorrel's words. His sudden presence is a reminder of how much she really does enjoy his companionship, and the fact that he came to see her means quite a bit.
"I can try," she sheepishly replies, folding her hands in front of her, "I imagine much of it you already know."

"Maybe some, but there's always more to learn, right?" Her chuckle has him delighted all over again. So! Sina can laugh!

He reaches out, quite daring, and takes her hand.

"...When you have a good teacher."

No matter who's doing it, it's impossible not to blush like a schoolgirl when that kind of gesture is given. Sina presses the tips of her fingers to her mouth with a grin that spills over into a laugh, uncomfortable as it is delighted. Then she tugs on Sorrel's hand, dropping to her knees and pressing her free palm flat to the ground.
"It's like healing," she explains, "healing a person. But instead of reaching into them, feeling how their body works, you're feeling the soil, the roots. Finding where something's wrong, and fixing it." Her palm glows a faint green, the soil beginning to stir.

Salamandridae | Open To All

somewhere in the gallows idk

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