Nahariel Dahlasanor (
nadasharillen) wrote in
faderift2019-02-04 09:09 pm
open | neither snow nor rain
WHO: Nari, Lexie, you~
WHAT: Guardian catch-all for some ladies. (Well, one Lady and one elf.)
WHEN: The Present!
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: prompts I have promised people will be appearing below as I get to them!
WHAT: Guardian catch-all for some ladies. (Well, one Lady and one elf.)
WHEN: The Present!
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: prompts I have promised people will be appearing below as I get to them!
Nari
I.
With the sleet keeping everything near-constantly coated with ice, Guardian is hardly the right month to be jaunting about between the Gallows towers and the towers that hold the massive machinery designed to raise and lower Kirkwall's immense chain net. The massive machinery that hasn't been used in two decades, ever since Viscount Threnhold had used it to strangle Orlesian trade and the Divine had ordered the city's Templars to 'convince' him to lower it. Threnhold's successors had been loathe to use it with such a tangle in the recent past, and so its mechanism is full of two decades of largely untended metal shifting, weathering, rusting in places.
The winter seas are rough enough that an assault by sea isn't likely, but the thin dark Dalish woman had shrugged and said that the Archon's Palace raising into the sky above Minrathous hadn't been all that likely either, and so here she is, on her way to the Chain tower, a pack of tools slung over her back. A pack that has been repaired several times, and by the look of it is about to need one more: something heavy looking is inching its way out of the back of it with every step she takes. Won't be long before that's lost. Hope it's not important.
II.
What Guardian is the right month for is being here near the hearth in the Hanged Man's taproom with a hot mug of mulled wine and a mallet, tapping chairs back together and listening with quiet amusement to a harper on one side and two tipsy men one-upping each other outrageously in order to try to take the same woman home on the other.
The important thing, really, is that the weather is outside, but the entertainment isn't unwelcome.
“Are you listening to this?” she asks, looking up briefly with a crooked grin spreading across her face, “The taller one has gone from fisherman to ship's captain in the space of five minutes.”
[ or something else! ]
Alexandrie
Winter here has not brought the lovely romantic fluffy pristine snow she'd dreamed of. It's desperately horrible in Kirkwall, and what work she can do from home she does from home with great relief. Unfortunately there are still meetings to be had, new correspondence to discuss, and every so often new books, scraps, and sheafs of paper arrive for the Inquisition that are in need of translation. All these things are in the Gallows, and so, begrudgingly, is Alexandrie.
She can be found now, looking far less disgruntled than she actually is, sitting at a table in the library with a letter in one hand—at which she is frowning with extreme delicacy—and a painted porcelain cup of tea in the other, her maid doing a spot of embroidery close enough at hand to refresh it when that becomes necessary.
“Ah!” she exclaims quietly, her glance warm and pleased over her painstakingly painted smile, “C'est parfait. Have you a moment to spare?”
[ ...or something else! ]

no subject
Byerly is a replacement for Octavian, a more than suitable one. That will have to do for now.
"I suppose the most important area of study would be amputations, treatment of war wounds, that sort of thing. I can't imagine how much information there might be, but..." She lifts her shoulder, as if she doesn't care as much as she obviously does. "Anything you could pass to me would be welcome."
no subject
It's not a pleasant thought, that. It brings echoes of the field at Ghislain, the uncareful battlefield amputations and wounds inflicted by Corypheus's army. The aftermath, all crushed together in the keep they'd made retreat to.
It's hardly a ladylike subject for tea. Perhaps something a little less bloody.
"Have you continued interest in herb lore as well?" A momentary pause, and then her eyes light with an idea. "Have you been acquainted with Colin? He is a dear friend of mine. While he is a magical healer, is is also an accomplished herbalist. Perhaps you should enjoy putting your heads together over development of further mundane remedy."
no subject
Ghislain is not so far away, not in Sidony's memory. She might have made jests about the nature of the battle after it had taken place but it was the only way of coping. There was simply too much on her shoulders, a weight that pressed down on her and made her feel almost panicked; she had never felt such anxiety, had so much blood on her hands. Literally.
Head tilting, she turns back to Lexie, the smile settled on her face.
"I do. Many herbs can be incredibly useful for helping treat illnesses." Blinking, she hesitates for a moment before she shakes her head. She doesn't want to wrinkle her nose, but it might twitch all the same. "I have not met him yet, no. Perhaps you can make the introductions for us?"
no subject
Alexandrie reaches across the table to briefly touch Sidony's arm, an underscore of her sincerity. "But you must tell me if you have settled entirely in now! Have you received any irritated correspondence from your lady mother?"
no subject
The touch does startle her, though, and she glances at her arm before she looks over at Lexie again.
"Not yet, no. I think she has yet to discover where I am and has thus decided not to bring her wrath down upon me."
no subject
"Let us hope it remains so. With luck, you shall be well established here and unable to be rooted out by the time she has found you."
no subject
She sips her own drink before she speaks again.
"I do not think that she would imagine that I could come here."