(Open) Short cuts make long delays.

[castintoflames]

WHO: Maedhros and Fingon.
WHAT: A pair of cousins exploring their new surroundings.
WHEN: Slightly backdated to their arrival at Kirkwall.
WHERE: Kirkwall, Lowtown & Hightown.
NOTES: General warnings for less than sane Elves. Or, rather, Elf. Don't worry, Maedhros won't be violent unless he is prompted or Fingon is endangered.

Maedhros decided, rather quickly, that he had little love for traveling by ship. The burns on his back were well on their way to healing, but he hadn’t felt any sense of ease until his feet were firmly planted on dry land. Kirkwall was not exactly endearing or beautiful - it reminded him too much of the lands of the Enemy - but, thank Eru above, it gave him respite from the restless waves and the treacherous beasts of the deep.

Looking up from tending to some of his armor, Maedhros sought out his cousin. Ever since being reunited with him, he had been wary of losing sight of him. Some illogical part of him was convinced if Fingon strayed too far, he would cease to be again.

“Welcoming, isn’t it?”

“Kirkwall, you mean? I suppose it’s impressive, in a sense.” Fingon looked up from the sets of gauntlets he had been examining to give Maedhros a dry smile. “Were the Enemy hiring architects for a pleasure palace, he might just choose the ones who worked here.”

A bad joke, meant to dispel the nagging sense of wrongness the city inspired. If they stayed longer, he would probably need more of them- but that was a problem for another day.

“I was thinking of going out for a few hours, by the way. Get a grasp of our surroundings, perhaps find a few armorsmiths- would you like to come along, or do you still need rest?”

"I feel better when I am in motion." that had been so for too many years to count. Maedhros only slept - and slept moderately well - when he collapsed from pure exhaustion. Then it didn't matter if he slept in a bed or on the street.

Dusting off his hands - it was remarkable that he had two - he rose from his work and went to follow his cousin.

LOWTOWN

Lowtown, someone had mentioned, had started off as a quarry centuries before. It was still easy to make out that distant origin, even for eyes less attuned to stonework than the Noldor’s; but there was a grim air to the place that could not be accounted for simply by that.

Even the liveliness of the lower markets couldn’t shake off the sense that there was something wrong in the air. There was a sunken quality to the faces in the crowds that Fingon didn’t like, one that even hunger or deprivation couldn’t quite account for. At his side Maedhros looked stricken, his face the color of spoiled milk.

“Do you see that?” He muttered, his eyes following a ragged pair of youths headed for the old mining shafts. His jaw was set, and there was outrage barely banked in his words. “They must be living in the tunnels. Finno, how can this city let its people live like this? Its children?”

HIGHTOWN

“Does that look a bit like Azaghal to you?” Fingon asked Maedhros, pointing at the statue outside the Merchants Guild. “It’s lacking the helmet, of course, but the beard isn’t entirely dissimilar.”

Maedhros lifted his eyes to take in the statue, appraising it. "You know they always want their beards to look fuller than they actually are in person." his lips twisted wryly. Everyone had a point of pride.

Around them, the wealthy and powerful of Kirkwall stared at the tall, slightly glowing beings now walking among them. Perhaps they thought they were being discreet, but the cousins could hear the mutterings about demons and knife-ears from the crowd around them.

...And a few other things as well, Fingon noticed. Idly, his head turned toward a nearby jeweler, who was looking at him as though he might steal the Man’s wears. Ridiculous, of course; Fingon had seen better jewelry made by drunken apprentices. But that was probably the wrong thing to say, as newcomers here…

WILD CARD

[Catch them anywhere in or around the city]

Comments

LOWTOWN

[wheretheferngrows]

Fern has kept her distance from the Lowtown markets after her last misadventure here attempting to make purchases from the shemlen vendors. Most of what she needs, she can find back at the Gallows, thankfully--but the shadow of imminent death hangs heavy over it lately now that Sina has taken such a grave turn. She needs to step away, to go off on her own and clear her head.

Which is what she's doing now when she spots the familiar, fiery red hair of that tall elven rifter from the island. Fern stops by the side of the street to watch him, and the equally peculiar and foreign one next to him, unsure if she should approach, or say hello. They look so severe and alien; not like her at all.

[castintoflames]

He senses her attention and his gaze shifts from all the upsetting sights to her. A small smile curves his lips and he comes to a halt, cocking his head curiously.

"Lady Fern?" he holds out a hand, coaxing her forward. He doesn't want her to fear him - or them for that matter. From their one conversation, he trusts she is a gentle sort; one deserving of friendship and protection. He does not have the heart to turn such a person away.

Especially since she is Elven too.

[wheretheferngrows]

--holy buckets, he recognized her? Eyes widening, she looks nervously around at the other folks milling around nearby; some of them, already giving her a bit of a wide berth due to her staff, take another few anxious steps away when she seems to draw the attention of the strange rifter in the middle of the market.

She decides she'd rather risk being nearer to them, than nearer to the shemlen. Forward she goes, squaring her shoulders and putting on the least nervous smile she can conjure up for her peculiar new friend.

"Hi," she greets him with more cheer than she feels, and looks from him to the other tall elf at his side. She sneaks another quick glance back at Maedhros; 'who dat,' her eyes seem to ask.

[castintoflames]

Why shouldn't he? She is a sweet child and he will not avoid her or ignore her. He knows his cousin too will be fond of her if given a chance. For them - those who have seen so much strife and endured so much pain - her presence is a gentle reminder of kindness and innocence.

Then there is her bravery: Maedhros admires that too.

"Well met, my lady." he gives her a small bow, grinning at her curiosity, "This is Findekano - or Fingon - my cousin."

Well, half-cousin, but that hardly makes a difference.

"Are you adjusting to being in a city again?" instead of on a beach or in the wilds.

[wheretheferngrows]

If Fern were privy to those thoughts, she might be a bit offended as only the very young can be--she's not innocent! She's eighteen, you know. But who doesn't like to be thought of as brave?

"Nice to meet you," she says to Fingon with a little smile, blushing again at Maedhros' persistent use of that honorific. A lady, really? Her?

"Are you adjusting to being in a city again?"

"I suppose," she replies and frowns, fiddling absently with a loose lock of her hair. She winds it around her index finger and then releases it, frowning further when the curl won't hold. It never does. "I mean, it's a sight better than the sea serpents and all the pirates in Llomerryn, but I miss the trees. Nothing grows here." She looks around at the city of Kirkwall sourly. Bit of a country bumpkin, this one.

[utulien_aure]

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Lady Fern," Fingon replies with a warm smile. The moment afterward he throws a teasing look at Maedhros. Adopting already, cousin?

The look on her face could be amusing in it's own right, but as Fingon follows her gaze it doesn't seem quite so funny. Nothing grows here- yes, he could believe that about Kirkwall.

"I can see how that would be a problem," he agrees. "If there was ever a place which could use a touch of green, it would be this city."

[wheretheferngrows]

"If there was ever a place which could use a touch of green, it would be this city."

It has been touched by green--a great, beautiful, verdant green--but would they know about it?

"Have you visited the forest in Hightown yet?" she asks earnestly, clasping her hands together before herself. "It's marvellous--my friend Sina used magic to make it grow, I've never seen magic used for anything like that before." A pause, before she helpfully offers, "I can show it to you if you like?"

[castintoflames]

Maedhros is very stubborn when it comes to honorifics and who is deserving of them. The fact that she has earned one speaks highly of her! Do not judge him, cousin. He sees that look you are giving him!

"A change in venue would be most appreciated." he nods with more enthusiasm than he has shown in some time, "What do you think, Finno? Shall we venture onto greener lands with our new friend?"

If he could, he would bring the little children of Lowtown with them. Some fresh air could surely do them good. His gaze strays to them, longing to take them in.

[utulien_aure]

Fingon's amused look grows thoughtful as his cousin's face lights up. In the short time they've been here, he hasn't seen such a hopeful expression on Maedhros'face- and he has this maid to thank for it. Maybe it's a small thing, but he won't forget it.

"I think I would enjoy that very much," he responds, and bows slightly to Fern. "If you would be willing to lead the way, Lady Fern?"

Another glance to where Maedhros' eyes linger, and Fingon sees the children playing in the streets. He gives a brief frown at that yearning look, and sighs to himself. Well, one afternoon won't hurt anyone.

"Excuse me a moment," he tells Fern, then strides off toward a group of small boys. It takes a few minutes, but when he returns there's a skinny elven boy holding his hand.

"This is Ilmen, and he says he's up for an adventure. Would you like to say hello, Ilmen?"

The boy's big hazel eyes glance up quickly at Maedhros, then over to Fern. "Hi!"

Lowtown

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's lingering at the market stalls, the tall horned woman perusing spices, leathers and various trinkets, the latter from a stall that claims to sell items that have fallen out of a rift. She inspects them with narrowed eyes, listening to the vendor prattle on about how that potion bottle would magically refill itself after a day. It's worth keeping in mind for later, at least.

As the pair of elves approach, the Vashoth's gaze strays to them. That they're rifters is obvious; elves of their height and bearing stand out like a sore thumb in Thedas. She wasn't present for the rift sealing or the kraken fight, though did join in on the trip back from Llomerryn to Kirkwall. And while she doesn't catch the content of the muttered words, that tone and set jaw are noted. Someone's not happy.

"...something wrong?"

[utulien_aure]

The rifters in question turn to the woman who hailed them, and Fingon's troubled look is quickly tucked away to present a friendlier visage.

People get touchy when their cities are insulted, and he doesn't know whether this- qunari, that was the word, right?- has any particular fondness toward Kirkwall.

"Nothing that can be helped, Mistress. My cousin and I were simply acquainting ourselves with the city, and were curious about it's people."

Hightown

[circleprodigy]

Inessa doesn't often visit Hightown for the very reason that an elf, even a Grey Warden, is decidedly out of place. Even when slurs aren't muttered, the stares of Kirkwall's elite and those who serve them convey one thing. 'You are an outsider here.' Honestly, if it weren't for the enormous garden forest where the Chantry once stood, she wouldn't bother to visit.

But as it does exist, and Garahel needs a bigger green space to run around in that isn't the Gallows' garden, elf and mabari make their way up the steps. She intends to pass through the market area, not needing anything from their stalls today, but her mabari picks up on the scent of the new elves they met earlier and barks. Hi, friends!

[castintoflames]

Garahel deserves wide open spaces to run. Maedhros bends down and holds open his arms for the mabari, welcoming him with a smile.

"There is a friendly face." he glances at Inessa, smiling, "Two of them, in fact! How are you faring, Lady Inessa?"

He utterly ignores the stares around them or what is said. It matters not a tic to him. Misconceptions are rampant in Arda too and when you are called a monster or thought a monster for long enough, you learn to be willfully deaf.