Toodleroodle von Skroodledoodler (
doneisdone) wrote in
faderift2018-01-09 04:20 pm
Entry tags:
[open] to the need for more
WHO: Teren and you
WHAT: Wardenmom is consumed by secrets, as usual
WHEN: the first half of Wintermarch
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will update as necessary
WHAT: Wardenmom is consumed by secrets, as usual
WHEN: the first half of Wintermarch
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will update as necessary
I. The Hanged Man
Sometimes found perched at her table by the window with a hot drink of some kind, Teren likes to sit and do her mending where she can hear nearby conversations but is out of the way enough to not appear too approachable.
Which isn't to say she won't talk to someone who sits with her, but, as usual, whether or not she's feeling sociable is a gamble for the person approaching to take.
II. Out and About
Provisioning for the Wardens is a busy job, especially when Teren has also been lending some assistance to the Kirkwall alienage through the worsened weather. Throughout the day she can be found escorting workmen both on foot and in the teetery little ferrying boats from the docks to the Gallows, all of them generally laden with various foodstuffs and other supplies necessary to keeping the Wardens alive.
Perhaps it's the cold ever-creeping into her bony frame, or the ugliness of the weather, but she seems more standoffish than usual. Not angry per se, but pensive and distracted.
III. Her Quarters
A very limited number of people are welcome to call on Teren at home, but they know who they are. Though the door is only left open when she's waiting for Wardens to drop off their uniforms for mending, often a light can be seen through the crack beneath the door, and the faint sound of her speaking to someone, low and gentle.
IV. The Stables
Boots needs feeding and brushing. She visits her druffalo at least once a day to make sure he's being kept well, and often stays to clean his enclosure and yell at anyone she perceives to be bothering him. Boots, for his part, is fine with whatever.
V. Wildcard!

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Suddenly, the world spins around her and the strength leaves her limbs, prompting her to sag to her knees. Garahel, stretching, lets out a whine of alarm as he gets to his feet and heads over. She ends up clinging to him, her gaze unfocused.
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"Watch the cart," she tells Garahel, "I'll come back for it shortly." And whether or not Inessa can walk, Teren helps her forward, holding her tightly so she can't fall, and steers her toward their dormitories in the old Templar tower.
Quickly digging under her shirt collar to find her sending crystal, she clears her throat and holds it to her mouth. "Anders, meet me in my room."
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"...I'm sorry. Everything just went...sideways."
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"Shoo," Teren mutters, picking up Purrelden and setting her on the floor.
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"I did go to the infirmary when it happened last week, but it passed so quickly, there really wasn't anything for them to do." Inessa sighs, rubbing her temple. She's not pleased at causing an inconvenience, especially when nothing is actually solved.
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"What happened last week that passed quickly?" His pack of emergency supplies gets tossed onto Teren's table. Nobody needs bloodflow stopped or a potion tilted down their throat today, by the looks of it. Purrelden hops back up on the bed and takes a position right next to Inessa, looking up at Teren in challenge.
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"Have you had any other symptoms?" Is it coincidence? There's been a lot of work on both of their shoulders. It could be entirely unrelated. "And it's just been this last week?"
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"I'm not detecting anything," he says slowly. What do they have in common? Mage, warden, Kinloch Hold, Skyhold, Kirkwall? Maybe some sort of combination of those? Anders shoots a glance over at Teren before leaning against her table.
"I've... I've had the same symptoms. And found nothing wrong there either. I'd thought it overwork because no one else had reported similar." Now he has to wonder if it's something else, and something that doesn't leave a trace.
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So maybe it's not a Warden issue, at the very least.
One day in and I'm already doing this...
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...no. She'll wait until there's more to know.
"I'll be back," she says, stepping toward the door. She left Garahel out by the cart, which she needs to finish dealing with and send him up to Inessa.
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"This can't, I can't have people knowing this is happening, please." He has too many enemies in Kirkwall for that to go well.
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"I'll call Bethany now," he says, and does so. "We need to get to the bottom of this, and hopefully quickly."
At least it means this probably isn't a delayed side-effect from possession.
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"If I'd had reports of others dealing with this I'd have a better start, but..." He shakes his head. "It's not related to the gathering, because there'd be more. It's not the food in the Gallows for the same reason. It's something with no trace, and what has no trace?"
A beat as one thing that doesn't tend to leave a trace comes to mind, and then: "Other than someone using blood magic on us. I was in the Warden offices with Nate alone when my spell happened. Where were you and Teren?"
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Garahel keeps twisting and turning to look at Purrelden, then moves out of the way of Anders and Inessa enough to run in a circle.
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"We need to figure this out, but we need to figure it out quietly. Mages falling down..." He doesn't need to explain to another mage how vulnerable it makes them, especially not in this city which might hold some former Templars of the worst sort.