faderift | MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

WHO: Anyone who wants to attend
WHAT: THE GRAND TOURNEY
WHEN: Bloomingtide 20-27
WHERE: Wycome
NOTES: We'll be rolling one or two events per day, in the order listed, and posting the results here! That's also where you can find your diplomacy or espionage assignments and their results. There will be a second log post in about five days regarding the end of the tournament, to give people a place to RP about the competitions' results once they know them and to react to some other surprise developments, so leave some room for dessert.

The Grand Tourney is one of Thedas's greatest spectacles--all the nations of the world and plenty of others besides turned out to compete in this edition of the famous test of arms. The Duke of Wycome has granted the use of a broad plain outside the city, a vast open span of grass bounded on both sides by minor forks of the Minanter making their way to the sea, and split down the center by another. Scores of the duke's men have been hard at work since the announcement, constructing stands and arenas, the rough wooden rails and benches of the commons and luxurious boxes for the more exalted spectators, lifted above the masses and shaded by awnings, draped with bunting in Wycome's brilliant purple and gold.

Between and among the competition grounds are stalls and roving vendors selling anything and everything, most popular the vast open-sided tents filled with trestle tables and benches and neverending barrels of ale and wine as tall as a qunari. Stages of various sizes dot the grounds, hosting musicians, dancers, tumblers, performers of all kinds. Others wander through the crowds, putting on impromptu shows wherever it looks like there are enough people with free coin about.

A half-dozen new wooden bridges span the central river--more like a large stream, really--and connect the competition grounds to the camping grounds. Tents in all colors and styles are arrayed in rough groups, marked out with the banners of knights, houses, mercenary companies, kingdoms. The Inquisition has sprung for new tents for its delegation to make sure they look the part, dramatic black as a backdrop to the Inquisition banners that fly atop each of them, housing two to four people each. Nearest are some Orlesians with an array of brightly-colored silk structures, and on the opposite side, a mercenary company called the the Grizzly Legion, a particularly rowdy outfit, with banners market by a giant red bear, and bonfires and revelry late into the night every night.

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

The general atmosphere of the tourney is raucous and celebratory, but the rivalries inherent in the occasion seem less good-natured than they might have in past years. Nevarra seems divided into two camps rather than one, with a (not-yet-literal) line down the middle of their encampment and their crowds that's bridged only by the brave and slightly awkward few who still haven't chosen between the Pentaghasts and Van Markhams. And the Orlesians, despite rumors that the Empire is still struggling in the wake of its own civil war, seem particularly delighted to see their rivals teetering on the brink—some are even taking odds on how soon they'll be able to get Perendale back. But, of course, no one can rival Tevinter for smugness. If there was a fancy sword awarded for that, they would win it every year, and there's no sitting near their delegation without "overhearing" an unnecessarily loud conversation about the sorry state of the rest of Thedas.

Of course, not everyone is caught up in the affairs of surfacer empires: there are delegations from both Orzammar and Kal-Sharok, each apparently pretending the other does not exist, and the odd Avvar and Chasind who seems to think everyone else is being a bit ridiculous about everything. The most isolated attendees are those from the Anderfels, who stick close together and rarely speak to anyone else—not that anyone else seems much inclined even if they did want to. At the other end of the spectrum are the Free Marchers; this is the one occasion every-few-years when they look to one another as brothers, rather than distinct and often competitive nations.

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

The Grand Tourney's official competitions are scheduled to take place over five days, culminating with the prestigious Grand Melee and awarding of the Celebrant. Before then, the tournament progresses day by day through unarmed combat, archery, armed combat, and jousting competitions, each heavily attended by delighted spectators cheering for their countrymen and any foreigner who strikes them as particularly charming, plus the odd equal-opportunity heckler. A few extra fights break out here and there when tempers flare, between both competitors and observers, and when the alcohol flows more liberally at night the chance of trouble rises. But for the most part, the competitions are fair and the mood around them is celebratory.

Away from the main grounds, a few additional staging areas have been provided for events focused on magic—these are more sparsely attended, due to their unofficial nature and the fears of much of the populace that they might catch a fireball to the face if they wander too close, but enough people's curiosity trumps fear to form a thinner, quieter crowd. The two events open to mages, combat against fade-touched creatures and a version of the melee with teams that allow mages, take place in the early mornings, when they won't be competing with the official events for attention, and are most heavily attended by Tevinter mages who are very, very certain that they can't be beat.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Korrin's quietly nervous as well, concerned that her dad's boisterous behavior and her mother's intensity will be too much to face. She's done her best to warn Araceli about the parents who had her young and that she more or less had to raise as they were raising her. They have their hearts in the right place, so everything will work out. Right?

Clamping down on her own concerns, she smiles at Araceli reassuringly. "Do you think they send care packages to people they don't approve of? Trust me, they wouldn't waste the time. Besides, they've heard all about you from me, Tama, possibly Lena. They love you already, as well they should. You're brave, witty, charming, you know what proper seasoning is and you make me happy. There's no way they won't be thrilled to see you, kadan." She reaches out to squeeze her love's hand gently, just hoping her parents will remember that qunari hugs need to be toned down for tiny humans.

Consider Araceli raised being around sailors and pirates, and mostly in her mother's brothel, so boisterous and intense are less concerning to her than having people look at a girl that fell out of a sky. And really, most of her past experiences with parents can be summarised as follows: clambering out the window in the morning to avoid them (because they're nobles and/or wealthy enough to take a dislike to her on principle), a passing face at a party she's been invited to on the arm of someone (saying little because they're wise enough to know that saying too much will only encourage their child), or a stilted exercise in talking around what she does for a living.

The queen mother again doesn't count because then Araceli was alongside five others so terrified of forgetting their courtesies that they jumped every time she addressed them directly for the first hour.

Packages are polite, could come out of her mouth easily but that's not something Korrin's parents would do because the idea of Korrin doing that is laughable unless it was one of those situations where they had no other options maybe or it was going to save lives. So Araceli takes a deep breath, considers that she really is being ridiculous about this, and wipes her palms on her trousers under the guise of settling how her rapiers hang by her hips, and tries not to look embarrassed about what Korrin says about her. When she fails at the latter she elbows her in the side. Just a little.

"Stop it." But she does take Korrin's hand, tries to brace herself. "It's just-- it's been a long time going on everyone else's word. We've been together almost two and a half years now, this is the first time I've met them, there's the dragon's tooth, the ring--"

And those are unmistakeably Korrin's parents so Araceli is going to shut up before they catch any of that and brace herself.

Her parents are indeed unmistakable, as aspects of Korrin are readily apparent in both. Her father is responsible for her freckles and pale hair along with general horn shape, while her mother shares Korrin's violet eyes and cheekbones. She's a good mix of them both, though extended inspection might be difficult when they close in, and Korrin's father reaches them both first.

"Mom, Dad, this is--" Korrin barely gets that out before she's swept up and his very muscular arms enfold her in a firm embrace. At least he didn't catch her off-guard, but she barely has time to register it before he lets her go and promptly bends down to embrace Araceli in the same fashion. "Dad, you better be careful. She's not a qunari, okay?"

Korrin's less boisterous mother calmly catches up to them and hugs her daughter in a less lung-crushing fashion before eyeing the others. There's amusement in her gaze but also concern as Araceli's a small human and a certain someone is probably not taking that into account. Her voice is deeper than her daughter's as she admonishes him. "Kadan, put her down. I prefer our daughter's kadan breathing."

It's the same game that always gets played, that makes Araceli wonder for the briefest of moments who Korrin would see in her own face if a ship arrived in the docks bearing her parents. Then she has the wisdom to take a deep breath, the one right before a dive, doesn't tense.

It still hurts, something in her back popping when the ugly knots where all her tension is forced out. Even up on the tips of her toes it has to be a ridiculous sight, her and Korrin's father.

"Señor , señora Ataash, it's so good to finally meet you." Araceli needs a good few moments before she can manage that, flustered enough to fall back into all her courtesies while she blinks to clear black spots from the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry it's taken so long, if was entirely my fault."

"Call me Kaaras, my dear! Everyone else does, except my baby girl."

Korrin slaps her father's arm for squeezing Araceli so tight, though he's tough enough where that's nothing more than a love-tap. Meanwhile, Korrin's mother edges in for a hug as well, her own embrace much more gentle as though to make up for her kadan's impulsive strength. She flashes a warm smile.

"Apology accepted, if you will call me Herah and join us for dinner while you both are in town." As Korrin opens her mouth to speak, she continues. "Yes, I know you both have your events. When the Grand Tourney arrives at your city, everything else comes to a standstill. We have no students while everyone's spectating, so our time is flexible. Dinner can always be whenever we wish."

Kaaras grunts, folding his arms and trying not to pout. "It'd be less flexible, if we were part of it too. The sign-ups were filled before we got a chance."

Korrin shakes her head, a mixture of sympathetic and relieved. She didn't want him to meet her friends by beating them up. "I cheered for you, in the past; now it's your turn to do the same. Besides, we have carnival prizes to win together."

"I don't have any events." Which feels like such an admission all of a sudden, standing here in front of people who apparently were going to be if they'd managed it. Still, Araceli continues on since she doesn't really have anything to do here for a change when normally there's something to keep her busy and the sudden amount of free time is jarring to say the least. "There's a Chantry Mother I need to speak with but even Chantry Mothers should be allowed to enjoy themselves however they can at a tourney before the dread Inquisition comes nipping at their heels."

There's more she can't really say about that, and hopefully it won't be a thing since she's sort of doing Chantry work in some strange capacity for the Inquisition or at least involved in improving relations here and there where it's even possible, but she smiles, a little more at ease. She can do this. She can hang out just fine when that's basically all she's good for just now.

"I don't know how much Korrin's said but where I come from, it's more like bits of Antiva, Rivain, and Llomerryn mixed together in a pot so there aren't tourneys at all. All of this? It's very new for me. The events, this many horses everywhere," and she's pulling a face because she doesn't like horses (rip in peace stolen Tevinter horse, you fed a pack of demons super well out by Craintellier), "I mean we have our games, our carnivals but it's not at all like this so," and she leans in because the big man maybe needs someone to confide in him even if she winks at Korrin first, "I'm a little lost you know."

Korrin's dad looks as though he was about to comment on the Chantry Mother thing (and her mother looks a bit curious, too), but a brief elbowing from his daughter and then Araceli's charm is an effective distraction. He lights up, spreading his arms wide. Such words just add fuel to the flames, and it's not hard to see where Korrin gets her enthusiasm and energy from.

"Then you're in good hands! We've been doing this for decades, ever since Korrin here was little and trying to drag her mother's bow onto the field."

Her mother chuckles fondly at that, and Korrin rolls her eyes a little but otherwise takes it in stride. She knew this was going to happen, but lets him continue. They've been excited to meet Araceli and there's no way she's going to be a kill joy in any sense. "Stick with us and we can explain all the events and games, not to mention show you where to get the best deals. And if you have trouble watching Korrin from the stands, that's what our shoulders are for."

Herah nods readily to this, her voice kind and encouraging. "We don't mind. You arrived with the Inquisition, but you have family here. I'll do all I can to help our daughter's kadan feel at home." Speaking of home-- "Korrin has given us a basic overview, but she also said that you might want to share much of it yourself. I would love to hear more. Why don't we seek refreshments and share tales?"

Knowing what's ahead, Korrin smirks a little. "And here come all the embarrassing childhood stories...."

"My father had one of his closest friends arrange duelling lessons for me because I kept going for his rapiers when I thought his attentions were elsewhere." A stage whisper that's absolutely for Korrin's benefit, a coy little smile on her face the whole time. Felix's weapons were still on his person half the time a little hand reached out to grasp the hilt and tug, sometimes from above to get the angle right. (Araceli has always been a small girl, no one would be surprised to hear that one.) "I don't think I'll be buying much, between where we live and the office it's probably cramped enough without dragging home new things but the melee? I think the both of those will need explanation, I know duelling and that doesn't feature here."

Short-sighted, really, but this isn't Antiva where it's common, or Orlais where it might be demanded as part of the Game so it's hardly surprising that it's not present, and she's not entirely put-out by it, only enough to make token protests since she carries her teacher's blades with her.

It takes effort to keep her smile from sliding sideways off her face, not because she's unhappy at the reminder, but because this is her family. You have my suspicions, and I have your insight, Thranduil told her half a year ago, circling around the truth before illness confirmed it: they are here, there was never a going back, and this is where her life is now so she nods, manages a laugh that doesn't sound as wobbly as she worries it will, and inclines a hand to let the people that know lead the way. "My parents would be the same, sirena. 'All the grey in my hair, the thanks I get for raising this girl' as if my mother has any grey in her hair anyway even if I did climb out the windows and on the rooftops. My father too but on a ship. Or the docks." Most of the stories would be the same thing if Araceli really thinks about it but she can share home a little easier than trying to think about Felix and Neria's recollections of their daughter right now.

That stage whisper gets a grin from Korrin (how could it not?), unsurprised but fondly amused at her spirited kadan's childhood antics. Perhaps that's why they suit each other so well, both spitfires eager to jump into life head-first and get what they can out of it. If the glance between her parents is anything to go by, they seem to agree and Korrin's father lets out another booming laugh. Her parents move with the gait of a couple who's been together for a long time, matching the other's pace easily. They seem to take Araceli's shorter stride into account, staying close enough to provide her a buffer from the crowds. She will never have to worry about being trampled, not while near them.

Her parents may not know Araceli well enough, but Korrin can read her and even though her laugh isn't that wobbly, she responds to it with an understanding squeeze and a look that says whenever she's getting overwhelmed Korrin will make an excuse for them to depart. "It's a daughter's right to raise hell, now and then. I used to follow them into battle from a distance, even just to watch, but somehow they always knew. That's when they decided I was ready for training."

Herah, listening, looks back in amusement. "It's a parents right to complain...and to brag. Korrin was always a feisty child, for better and for worse. Even at her most aggravating, though, I was proud. You need a strong spirit to survive in this world, and that's something we thankfully never needed to worry about with her. A child that never causes trouble and always obeys? Now that's cause for concern."

Her kadan nods in approval at Araceli's words. "Your father had the right idea. Children need to learn to defend themselves sometime, so why wait if they're itching to start? Vashoth children start young because they must, but even if they didn't, I think most of us would encourage that learning sooner or later. Self-reliance and self-defense are important skills for us.

--oh right, the Grand Melee. They changed it up this year; it used to be a free-for all as long as we've seen it, but now they have it sorted in teams. We can learn how it'll work together."

This is strange. Parents. Together. Araceli didn't ever do meeting the parents, hasn't met the parents of the queensguard since all of them reside in their respective nations, Leandra's mother is alone now, and her own parents live separate lives where they might meet because it's the done thing between friends, between two people who share a daughter, but it's not like this. Having Korrin's hand to hold is probably what helps her to keep going through the crowd instead of simply watching it. (Is this what she and Korrin could look like - height disparity and all the rest taken into account - when enough time passes? Her people watching before with couples was for targets, not to just watch.)

"Marjani would beg to differ," half out the side of her mouth since Marjani might've made a good shot at Tamassran in terms of expectation and strictness in lessons and getting the job done. "My knuckles ache thinking about the times she rapped me with the flat of a blade for bragging outside of when it was necessary." Duels being what they are after all and requiring that build-up. Bragging rights can be earned but have to be spent carefully, another painful lesson under Araceli's belt that she sometimes had refreshers on when news reached her teacher's ear.

"Castileos is less about a strong spirit, more about the passionate one that follows where the heart leads them. So long as no one is hurt? You have your fun until the winds change and the tides turn, then you must be ready to be all hands before the mast for as long as is needed. It's not a sentiment Thedas has in abundance."

"No, it's not." Korrin's mother is a little more solemn at Araceli's accurate observation, and even her father echoes that expression briefly. There are scars underneath all that cheer, whether they draw attention to them or not and usually they don't, even with their daughter. "Many say Rivain comes closest to that, or at least it does when outside forces aren't interfering. You have seen this for yourself, yes? How they have managed to cling to their own unique ways? That is one reason why Korrin's grandmother still lives there despite our invitations. But we want more of a buffer between us and Par Vollen."

"So you're not staying relatively close just to keep an eye on me?" Korrin interjects with a joking tone before the topic becomes too serious, earning a playful shove from her father. She nearly bumps into Araceli at that, but manages to steady herself in time.

"Lass, if that was our goal we'd just pack up, move to Kirkwall and join your Inquisition. That's not to say we didn't consider it -we did- but Herah said it was best to give her space and she's always right about such things. Besides, we love our life here. Don't think we're anywhere but where we want to be."

Herah nods to that, then as the couple debate the direction they need to go briefly before the continue. Korrin perks up, spotting the massive tent and sounds of music coming from within. Shade, drinks and entertainment. Perfect. "I'm buying the first--"

Her father scoffs, quick to interrupt. "Pfft, what kind of hosts do you think we are? Your money's no good here, either of you. We've been waiting to welcome Araceli to Wycome, so this is on us. Whatever you like, it's on us."

"Sister Nightingale recommended me to go there to study for a time, very briefly. It was interrupted but I did get to learn what I wouldn't have otherwise, or what I would have had to from books coming from Chantry scholars. We even got to aid some of the mages there, one a Seer and her apprentice, I never thought I'd have the chance to meet one in person so early in my time in Thedas." Even now there's a quiet reverence when Araceli speaks of the Rivaini mages, something humbling about the entire experience but especially the people themselves and their practices, what they were able to do. Reminders of tales of wise women on the shores of home. "Tama was most kind to allow me to stay with her for so long. And the extra guests for dinner."

Mostly The Outsider. How does one explain an eerily pale black-eyed young man like him to anyone, someone loved by Araceli for being the sea made flesh, pulled through a rift, hands held through the streets together one of those days as if it were nothing.

"If you come to Kirkwall you know you have to come to dinner, I don't know how to cook for two people, there's plenty of food. You'll get to meet Lux - he's guarding my office because I don't trust him around this many people - and Fernando." There's a quick glance at Korrin who'll have brought up Lux before but the mini-kraken? Probably too recent but Araceli would absolutely bring him down and plonk him on the middle of the table as a beautiful living centrepiece. Trying to steal dinner. "I was going to come to Wycome but I ended up at sea since I know how to sail and leading Naval Presence it didn't sit right with me not to go. We fought a kraken! And sea serpents!"

Cool times where absolutely no one almost died she had the best time from the way her face has lit up before she considers her drinking options. "Anything that isn't beer or wine. I mean I'll drink them but beer is my last choice and wine is for dinner if you're forced to drink it."

The reverence with which Araceli speaks of the Seer mages brings forth a smile from Herah. She has always trusted Tama's insight about people, and that seems to have been wise yet again. Anyone sharing a life with their baby girl had to accept magic into their life, after all. "Tama has spoken well of you, and you did her a kindness in turn. She loves nothing better than to cook for appreciative guests." Kaaras laughs at that, remembering. "She'd feed the whole damn neighborhood, no exaggeration! No wonder you fit in well with her, she doesn't know how to cook for just two people either. But it keeps her busy and she likes busy."

"Of course she's used to cooking that much, we're bottomless pits." Korrin chuckles, thinking back to her adolescent bottomless pit stage in particular. She responds to Araceli's glance with a grin. "You know they're going to spoil Lux even worse than me, right? Probably Fernando, too. And--ooh, they have orzata! I know what I'm having." A fond smile emerges, as she doubtless is thinking back to Zevran. Even if he's not here with his son, a touch of Antiva will always make her think of their friend.

Kaaras perks up at mention of battle, as he always does. Even being retired doesn't blunt his love of such tales, sharing them or listening. "Now that's a story I'm dying to hear! I'll get everyone's orders and then you'll have to tell me all about those sea battles."

"And Fernando, did you get another fox?"

"I lived in a building where it was pay the rent or put food in the table. I had the means to do both and do enough to put a full meal in the rest every day so once you learn that? It's hard to unlearn." Or foolish, Araceli hasn't decided where she comes down on that but it's why she ended up on the docks and in kitchens on the arrival to Kirkwall, takes up cooking duties on any camping trips, pitches in anywhere she's needed on any ships she's ever ended up on. "And honestly, do you want Lux to end up like Jayne? Because that's what's going to happen. Crushed to death under him. That's how we die."

That's how Mal Reynolds died. That or he drowned under the drool from that dog whilst being pinned because Araceli has never seen any animal slobber as much as Jayne, an alarming sight to behold. "Brandy. Brandy if they have it, I've got rum in my flask." Nothing if not predictable but she likes what she likes, right as her blood freezes and her body stills.

Of course, Karaas would bring up sea battles when she has to explain Fernando.

"Ah...Fernando, well, he's…" Araceli slowly turns to look at Korrin because how do you tell people outside an Inquisition filled with the more unnatural creatures about something like the thing living on her desk? She blows out the sigh, turning back with an odd smile, a nervous laugh bubbling out. "He's a miniature kraken? About so big," her hands cup the air for scale, "the size of a small octopus, black, but I don't think he knows that he's small. He's master of his domain so he can be a nuisance to people in the office when he wants attention but the escape attempts are over. I think. I hope. I truly hope those are done with I haven't left him this long with someone just checking on him before. He won't ever grow to the size of what we fought, he's miniature. He'll always be miniature, I can promise that. And the kraken we did fight? I was shocked to see it so violent, any other krakens are normally docile, maybe some warnings if you get too close. Sea serpents are feisty and unpredictable but for me, that was something else entirely."

Fernando is the least practical sort of animal to come with her anywhere though, being that he has to live in the water, and portable bowls aren't really a thing in Thedas, not to mention the chance that he'd still escape since she's fully aware of his intelligence and capabilities.

The sudden reminder of Mal and his enormous mabari brings forth a fond smile from Korrin, trying to put aside how much she misses having him around. He's alive and well...somewhere out there. They'll meet up again, and until then that silly image Araceli provides makes her snicker. "That would be one sad legacy, a qunari crushed by a fox of all things. On the other hand, imagine what that would do for said fox's reputation."

Her mother scoffs, amused. "We will not spoil him that much, Araceli. We're not Tama, so we don't do our spoiling with endless food. However, he'll have as much attention as he could possibly desire." And when Lux has grown sick of that, she'll know better and remind her kadan to leave him be.

When Araceli looks over to Korrin about Fernando, the Vashoth mage flashes a sympathetic smile and shrugs; it may be strange, but her parents have traveled far and wide. Strange isn't unknown to them, and they don't fear it. (Sometimes, even when they should.) Her parents listen in fascination at the description, an eager gleam alight in Kaaras' eyes in particular. He lets out a booming laugh soon afterward. "What a feisty creature! I like him already." Herah smiles. "A small creature with a large spirit; rather fitting, considering the owner."

Brandy and orzata it is, and Kaaras orders some mead for himself before Herah decides on some brandy as well. Korrin assists with scooping up the drinks as Herah claims a table that thankfully has enough room for several grown qunari. "Yeah, that kraken was one of the most aggressive things I've ever fought. They're nasty anyway, but that red lyrium? That just made it a thousand times worse."

Taking a swig, her father then leans back. "We've both had our fair share of sea creature battles, Herah and I. It comes with the territory, you know? You're right about feisty, and that's not even counting the red shit now spreading around."

Herah frowns at that, nodding as she cradles her glass, paying more attention to the conversation. "Indeed. I know it's much to ask, but please...be as careful as you can, both of you."

"I don't think he needs the reputation, are you ever surprised that his big fat head fits through the door the way he carries himself?" Which is to Korrin who will be aware of Lux's usual swaggering sort of trot, before Araceli looks up at Herah with a smile and a helpless sort of shrug. "He grew up with me in the brothel with my mother, many other ladies, other children, then down at the docks. And he is shameless, completely shameless, about begging as if I've never fed him a day in his life, all--" and Araceli stops, extends a hand with her eyes soft and wet, mouth tipped down at the corners but hopeful somehow. "Like so."

Little shit, under her breath when she takes her hand back. Fondly. (Someone in Kirkwall is maybe very tired of him shadowing them by now but it can't be helped, it's what he does, and better than him being in here and getting into trouble.)

Araceli smiles again but this time she ducks her head, curls falling in her face with nothing to hold them back. It's strange, she wouldn't deny it (well, she would at first) to be meeting them, to be accepted so quickly, but it's good. She's warm. Swallows the brandy carefully and taps out a staccato beat once she's sitting down, chin on one hand.

"There are-- There are containment measures." Which is as much as she should say, really. "I love the sea and all things in it, it hurts to see them in pain as much as it hurts to see any of us struck by it. That looks to be an isolated case of it being in the water. I don't want anything to happen to her, I'm sure she'd say the same about me when she's not hunting me down because I'm still in an office when it's dark outside." Maybe slipping in a joke is cheating, but her hand does find Korrin's since sometimes there isn't really an option to be careful, not when sometimes you end up fighting a Venatori spy in the Gallows, throwing knives at him while he hurls spells at you, and all the times they're just not on the same missions together.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

Yep! <3

no subject

I hope Araceli enjoyed breathing

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject