[Open] Irregular Mages Ahoy

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Anders and Thor and You!
WHAT: Various adventures and misadventures
WHEN: Early to mid Bloomingtide
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Gonna put up some basic openings here first for either, then specific headers. Hit me up on plurk (Nadat) or Discord (Nadat#4647) if you'd like something for your dude!

Anders 1. The Clinic

There's a pause in the regular flow of traffic, enough that Anders is free to clean some of the slates leftover from an earlier class and straighten chairs and tables, moving steadily through the Clinic and greeting people by name or nod.

Anders 2. The Gallows Herb Garden

He's not alone as he tends to the plants and gathers a few sprigs of what the Infirmary's short on. Sprawled out in the sun, belly-up, is a tuxedo cat that's half-watching everything. A bit more active is a large orange fluff of a cat that's sneaking gathered herbs out of Anders' basket and piling them off to the side whenever Anders isn't looking.

Anders 3. Infirmary

He's here as usual, healing, providing potions and medical advice. Anyone dropping by gets seen to quickly, regardless of how he might feel about them. Any Rifters, though, get an additional question.

"Does your world have equality? Or some semblance of it?"

--

Thor 1. Tavern

Half the taverns in Kirkwall are closed to him, Tevinter, past conflicts, all that, but that just means that he's all the more happy this one is welcoming. Thor is loud and large and in a very good mood as he drinks his ale and chats with anyone who looks like they might tolerate a conversation.

In fact, if someone, some human or dwarf, is sitting alone, Thor will come over to their table, plop down, and order them a drink on him.

Thor 2. Lowtown

"It can't cost that much," Thor says to the shopkeeper, eyes a little narrow. He has a feeling the guy is trying to rob him... but Thor hasn't spent a lot of time handling day-to-day funds and expenses before. It's all been estate stuff that he signs off on. Haggling for a rather nice-looking cloak is a new challenge, and he finds himself glancing around to see if anyone will help weigh in on the topic.

Thor 3. Gallows

Evening is falling as Thor takes a guard post by the Gallows docks, leaning against a handy bit of wall and actively watching the people coming and going.

"Nearly curfew," he calls out to what looks like a Rifter considering getting on the boat. There's no heat to his voice. In fact, it sounds a little curious. He's wondering how the Rifters are taking the recent news and if it's chafing just yet.

--
[Feel free to make your own prompt for Anders or Thor too if you'd like.]

Comments

[aenseidhe]

Treeing an elf is never a sign of success, not when it's a Scoia'tael elf. Thankfully, this game has nothing to do with sharpshooting, or Iorveth would've picked him off from his perch already. The grin Thor gives him is reflected back, wave mimicked as well.

And then he... sits himself down, legs dangling off the beam, feet swinging idly while watching the sailors work below, seeming content to hang out on his perch. Maybe starts whistling a little tune as well. Thor's right that no one really needs to be this high into the rigging on a docked ship, but it isn't the only one in the port. Kirkwall is a port town, and there's constantly marine traffic going on, the masts over differing only barely avoiding meeting in several places. This may as well be a forest canopy to Iorveth.

Several minutes pass, of just observing the crew on the ship, the guards patrolling the docks, staring down at whatever Thor's up to, until a certain pattern comes up - two ships pulling in nearby, another just now having pushed off into the bay, and one more, further out, on it's way away from the island.

Standing, the elf is still whistling, but tightening the straps that hold his bow and swords to his back, reaching out to cut a spare length of rope from something tied off, eyes on the ships moving gradually into the places he wants them. What comes next looks like some Assassin's Creed bullshit. Bolting, Iorveth sprints down the crossbeam, balance apparently not an issue he's concern with, and leaps across the empty space between one mast crossbeam and the next, over the dock below. He makes his way from one ship to the next the same, sometimes catching the next beam with just hands on the edge to haul himself up, or catching himself in the rigging, grabbing sails or rope to swing himself around. From one ship to the next, it's like a step ladder through the port, until he sprints down the upper deck of the last one before the ship headed out, hopping railings and running along the prow, before diving off the figurehead.

Only a short few strokes underwater are enough to have him surface next to the dangling anchor, grabbing hold to swing up to one of the cannon shutters, about to climb inside the lower deck for cover. Of course, he'll probably hop off once he feels like his point is made, but not quite yet.