voices disappear when you were speaking in somber tunes; | ota

[paperwing]

WHO: Sabriel Abhorsen and you. Yes, you!!
WHAT: Sabriel has a lot on her plate with Warden things, Councillor things, and dumb crush things. She also has a future in making magic boots for said dumb crush and teaching herself how to fight decently with that sword she carries around. Much busy, wow.
WHEN: Early to mid Haring.
WHERE: Skyhold, in varying locales.
NOTES: None at the moment.

1. IN PEACE, VIGILANCE ;

First and foremost, she is a Warden.

Though the Inquisition has absorbed them into their ranks in order to keep them hidden, it's inevitable they congregate, especially when you and your order are prone to sleeping in fits and bursts and not during the late hours of the night when everybody else wanders the Fade (or not, in a dwarf's case). Sabriel doesn't know where they are, but she's easy enough to find should they look, at her regular haunts and not at her bedroll, anywhere with a fire and a potentially promising distraction, such as writing, or tea, or companionship.

Sometimes, it's during normal hours she seeks them out with news (there is none), or worries (what will the scouts find at the Western Approach?), or packages (possibly of socks).

Throughout her wanderings, she also makes a point of seeking out Zevran Arainai.



2. A COUNCILLOR OF MAGI ;

Acting as liaison between the Council and her Warden brothers had been something Sabriel had expected in those early gatherings about what the mages should do about their Skyhold presence, but she had not expected in those early days to become a Councillor. Still, Sabriel took this new responsibility seriously, and it was a familiar sort of routine in that she was used to listening to the troubles of a young mage and resolving it best she could. Of course, that was in a Circle. Here, outside in the real world, it was far different, and the suggestion of recess by her peers had occurred far too many times for her to count. Progress was slow, and near non-existant, but with their move to the Vault as a permenant meeting place, perhaps the Council of Magi would begin to move forward as more than just an idea.

This new role doesn't cloud the fact she's a Warden, but it does mark her as more approachable throughout Skyhold, whether it be in the library and reading or research, or for study of poultices or spells, or practice out in the courtyard, or for that mid afternoon snack you just can't wait for and you find Sabriel down in the kitchens eating another sandwich. After meetings and discussions, Sabriel is slow to leave. Perhaps it is she that approaches you, or you approach her, out past the kitchens or up the stairs to the hall.



3. ENCHANTMENT? OR, ETERNALLY WARM BOOTS ;

She had promised magic boots to Scipio, and she would deliver. The problem? That it seemed the only way forward was through enchantment, as spellwork failed. Truly, she had been through too many pairs of cast off boots... and received a few odd looks from the quartermaster as he sent them her way, only for them to return as cinders. No, what she needed, and what every book suggested and she'd railed against, was a dwarven expert, or a Tranquil.

Both had been lacking... up until she had returned from the mire, when two tranquil arrived with the templar Nevra.

It would gain her boots, and would give the Tranquil routine. She sat with them, assisted as she could with the latest mire-soiled pair of boots she'd received, and the Tranquil did not bat an eye lid, but continued work. She was careful with them, overly considerate... Sabriel was not scared of the Tranquil, exactly, but she was concerned she asked too much of them as they would not say no, could not help her mind wandering and wondering at the horror of losing all emotion.

But today, as the tranquil watched, there was progress. The boots did not burn. At least, not for a few seconds.

"Almost," she sighed.

The Tranquil she worked with blinked. Perhaps they would have been disappointed, but instead, they only turned to Sabriel, and the pile of waiting boots that would soon become more dust in the wind. "Is there another rune you wish for us to try?"

And so the enchanting continued.



4. MAGE SEEKING TEMPLARS FOR FIGHTING LESSONS ;

They had laughed the first time she had asked.

Sabriel was a regular attender of training sessions out in the training arena, if only in that she watched from a distance. Where the Templars hadn't known her as a mage when she first appeared, now they did. It took her a few visits to ask, as before in the tower, it had been something to keep a secret, that she wielded a sword instead of a staff, but now... now, she really did feel she should know how to use it beyond what she could mimic. Training seemed the obvious way forward, and who better to teach her than those who understood her lack of physical strength?

But they laughed. It was not unkind laughter, but disbelieving. A mage wanting to wield a sword and to train with them? What a strange mage. And with that thought in mind, she could not train with them, and no one volunteered to take her under her wing.

That did not deter Sabriel, however. Today, she was back again, and she would ask until she got a yes. And maybe if she didn't, she'd join the exercise anyway.




5. LET'S DO SOMETHING ELSE!

Comments

[paperwing]

Sabriel's with him all the way up until he mentions lightbulbs and then, yep, he's lost her. "No," she says warily, but kindly, because he is trying and it is helping. A little. She puzzles it out again, though, because he is correct that lightning can cause fire, but...

"Containment," she says slowly. "Storms can do that on their own if you work it correctly. A field of paralysis that only affects something, or someone, should they step inside it... could that even be accomplished? Perhaps a containment for the fire rune, so it doesn't ignite the object?"

The last part is directed to the Tranquil, who looks at her blankly, and then starts flicking through the book with speed, so clearly they have something in mind or they're attempting to answer that question before giving a no. She'll have to wait on that one.

[motherfucking_ghost]

That he's even able to kind of sort of help at all is, well, pretty spectacular given he knows fuckall about this so-called magic. And their little runes. Like they're fucking Nordic or something.

Maybe he should remember that being polite is a thing people do around here. He hastily offers up his (non-glowing) hand. "Oh, um, I'm Church, by the way. Sorry to interrupt, I guess. Kind of not used to items of clothing spontaneously combusting."