CLOSED | one minute you say we're a team

[hassaran]

WHO: Darras & Yseult
WHAT: A random courier mission
WHEN: Before news from Tevinter
WHERE: A road into the Vinmarks
NOTES: Pirate language probable. Maybe giant spiders. Who knows.

[ It's not exactly a glamorous mission, which is fine. The problem--Yseult thinks to herself but does not say when she is handed the assignment--is that it's also not a good use of her skills. Yes, the agent needs to be met in the pass midway from Wildervale, the message needs to be collected and delivered the rest of the way to Kirkwall. But surely they could send someone else, like an actual messenger, or anyone with two legs and a brain, and not a highly-trained spy? At first she'd thought perhaps there must be some other dimension to this, some suspicion about the courier, or some potential threat. But no. This is the Inquisition, and as it turns out their rumored egalitarian leanings are both very much true and also seem extend even to their internal assignment structures. It's all very different than she's used to.

So her horse is not the only one champing at the bit to get going and get this over with as she waits just outside Kirkwall's northern gate. Even this early, the road toward Wildervale is busy, merchants and farmers coming and going, wagon traffic stirring up dust to make the already-sweltering day even less pleasant. Her horse is a big grey mare who immediately ate every green thing in reach and has now taken to snorting impatiently, head tossed as much as the reins tied to a tree branch will allow her. Yseult leans against the trunk out of biting range, arms crossed, squinting at the gate. "Someone from Forces will meet you," she was told at the last second, over her protests (not in so many words) that sending two skilled agents was even worse than wasting one. But it seems there have been reports of animal attacks, and they are taking no chances.

She doesn't expect to see Darras, and even shades her eyes with a hand to be sure (as if she could mistake him). She doesn't expect him to come towards her, either. What are the chances, after all, that out of everyone in Forces, his name was pulled? And that he actually turned up to do the work? Slim, but here they are. She pushes off the trunk and lifts her hand in a little (awkward, ill-advised) wave. ]

Good morning.

Comments

[staysail]

Is it.

[Darras' hand is coiled loose around the reigns of the horse he's leading, half-hoping that the beast will pull free and run off of its own accord, leaving him without a mount and without a means of accompanying anyone on this assignment.

The horse--a sorrel gelding with white markings around its legs--was given over to Darras with reassurances from the stablehand. Patience, the man had said, and an even-temper. The latter might be true. The former, not so much. The horse spent most of the way out of Kirkwall proper trying to push Darras in the back, using its nose like the broad head of a spade to hurry him on. Darras, wary of all beasts of the land except cats, gave the horse a long lead and kept as far from the thing as possible, which seemed only to encourage the gelding more.

Darras had known, from the start of receiving his orders, that Yseult would be on this end of it, waiting for him. If she'd known to expect him in kind, she doesn't show it. Perhaps putting on surprise is part of her act, one she's playing quite well.

No: that's a bitter thought. Yseult's surprise is genuine. This Darras knows on immediate sight. There's a little lift to her right eyebrow, a tell she must not know about or else she'd have trained it out of herself by now. When she first sees him, approaching, it isn't there. When he turns his path straight for her, there it is, and Darras pushes away that acknowledgement lest he start to feel any kind of nostalgia or fondness.

He squints up at the sky instead, where the sun hangs oppressive above them.]

Looks like a shit day to me. But I'm here on orders, so.

[He gives a half-shrug, tight. Orders. His favorite.]

[hassaran]

You can call him Jester. [ Yseult slips the suggestion in as Darras is succeeding in pulling himself up and over this time. She gives him a second, then approaches with the reins looped around one fist, to hand them up to him, remaining there with one arm leaned on the horse's shoulder. He's contentedly chomping for the moment, but she's ready to grab for control again if she needs to. ]

You'll be fine. Always loop the reins around your hand or the horn or both so you can't drop them. You'll want to keep some slack in them unless you're actively guiding, and only pull back if you need a quick stop, or to back up. Remember they're connected to the bit [ she gestures, a hand across her mouth ] so he won't like it when you pull and will get upset if you do it too much. You're going to steer with your knees [ she says, setting a hand on his ] as much as your hands. Gentle pressure will tell him which way you want him to go. [ She gives his knee an absent but encouraging squeeze, and starts to step back. ]

Any questions, before we get on the road?