PLAYER PLOT: Until We Sleep

[byblow]

WHO: Adalia, Alistair, Freddie, Herian, Loghain, Medicine Seller, Melys, Nathaniel, Notas, Teren.
WHAT: Rescuing a king, maybe.
WHEN: Early Wintermarch
WHERE: An island off Seheron, the Fade
NOTES: Violence, disturbing imagery.

GETTING THERE • INFILTRATION • THE FADE • THE KING • AFTERWARDS

Comments

[doneisdone]

Teren lets him busy himself with such things, though she chafes a bit at his assistance, since it often means some tasks are done twice. But she'll give him a break, just this time.

She's staring into the fire and nursing a cup of tea when The Joke begins, and Teren's eyelids flutter as she dies a little inside. She accepts the stew and sniffs it, watching Alistair cautiously, waiting for whatever horrible punchline he's devised. Just get it over with.

[byblow]

Blissfully unaware that Teren thinks she's letting him do anything on his own quest, Alistair continues cheerfully: "They each order an ale, and they each find a fly in their drinks. The Orlesian says, Créateur béni! and faints onto the floor. The Marcher scoops the fly out with a spoon and drinks his ale. And the Fereldan lifts the fly out by the wings and says, Spit it out! Spit it out!"

[doneisdone]

She'll always let him do things, he's her favorite. Don't tell the others.
Still wary as Alistair tells the joke, Teren finds it's not as bad as she thought it would be, and even smirks a little. "And what does a Nevarran do, I wonder," she muses, "reanimate the fly?"

[byblow]

"In my experience—" His experience is Teren. "—the Nevarran drinks the fly while staring everyone else down."

[doneisdone]

"In your experience," she mutters, mocking him, and scowls. After a moment's consideration, she sighs. "...probably."