faderift | OPEN | so much to learn, so little time

WHO: Finel and YOU
WHAT: February catch-all
WHEN: Beginning a few days after Kirkwail
WHERE: Various
NOTES: Finel has lots of people still to meet - starters available on request or hit me with anything and I'll roll with it

I. The Library

The library has quickly become his favorite place in the Gallows, and as such he finds a reason to be there nearly every day for several hours. Some times, he's bent over a large volume at a table, a small leather bound notebook open to the side with pen and ink as he takes notes on different magical techniques - mostly healing magics, but also digging into the histories of Thedas, and on occasion some more esoteric volumes on the Fade.

Other times he just wanders through the rows, marveling at titles and enjoying the relative quiet. Even though the room is densely filled and surrounded by stone, he feels settled and safe, here.

On one occasion, he happens to have overstayed himself. Head pillowed on one arm, arm resting against the open book, Finel appears fast asleep at the table.

II. The Wounded Coast

The stone of the Gallows and the bustle of Kirkwall at times feel like all too much. Unused to the constant closeness of a city, he seeks a more open place when he feels overwhelmed and has the time to get away. He's only been on a ship a handful of times, but there's something about the rhythm of the waves, the endless expanse of the horizon that can erase his thoughts and worries, if only briefly.

He's settled on a piece of driftwood washed up on the beach, staff leaning by his side as he takes up a smaller branch, drawing idle words and shapes in the sand. Before long he sets that aside too, and begins practicing some small spells, pulling and shaping the Fade with his hands, forming ice and fire, calling a stone on the ground towards his hand and dropping it again. The anchor shard is dull and numb just below his thumb on his left hand, and he frowns a little as he looks at it.

III. Wildcard!

Request a starter or start your own - feel free to go with any other time you might have run into him in the Library.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When a new Dalish appears in the Gallows, Beleth is usually made aware in a timely manner. She's usually aware of most new people in the Gallows—it's her job to know things—but her people are always quick to point out the arrival of her People. So, when she next has some free time, she decides to go out and meet this new Dalish.

It takes time to find him, but after some searching, Beleth finally locates him in the library—completely passed out, of all things. It takes a few moments for her to decide what to do.

"Lethallin," Accompanying the word is a gentle nudge. "This is not the best place to sleep." Nudge, nudge.

It's been heartening to meet so many other Dalish here - it feels a little less othering to be away from his clan, even if the excitement of new places and people of all kinds is more appealing to him than most others of the People. Still, it's less jarring when he's caught off guard to be found by a fellow Dalish, or elf, even, than someone else.

Finel shifts blearily at the nudge, eyes adjusting in the dim candlelight as he takes a moment to remember where he is. When he finally lifts his head to look at her, his brows knit together in drowsy confusion. The face...seems familiar, but the voice is different. He manages a small, somewhat sheepish smile.

"Oh...forgive me, I didn't even realize-. Thank you..."

"Ma nuvenin, it's no trouble. I can assure you that you are not the first to take an impromptu nap here. Maybe we should set up some cots here?" She takes a few moments to glance around the library, as if actually assessing the possibility of placing cots around the area. Then her focus turns back to Finel, a polite smile on her lips.

"I hope that no one is working you too hard?" That's a joke, mostly. "They have to give you breaks, you know."

The comment about the cots brings out a soft laugh. "I'm sure some would not object, but others might."

He smiles back at her, put more at ease with her lightheartedness despite having embarrassed himself earlier. "No, nothing like that. Honestly it's self-inflicted more than anything, although..."

Finel hesitates, fairly certain that she hardly needs to hear about his troubles when they've only just met. He shakes his head, waving it away.

"I am Finel, from clan Ravennan in the Free Marches. What may I call you?"

"You've briefly described how everything in the Gallows works." The words are given with an airy tone, though there's a brief look of annoyance on her face--not at Finel, but from an over familiarity with just that topic.

Then, Beleth realizes she should probably attempt to explain just why she is so well acquainted with that. She nods as he introduces himself, placing a hand on her chest. "Aneth ara, Finel. I am Beleth, of Clan Ashara, also in the Free Marches. I am the Scoutmaster for the Inquisition, and thus I lead the Scouting Division." You know, Scouting. Scoutmaster. Kind of goes together.

"So please, let me know if anyone gives you a...hard time, or anything like that. Most in the Gallows are fairly welcoming to the People, but--" She gives a little handwave. "--You know how it can be." With humans, that is.

The name Ashara suddenly seems to click a few things into place, connecting the strange feeling of familiarity he's been experiencing for the past few minutes.

"Ashara...I met another of your clan during the haunting - Sorrelean. The two of you...bear a striking resemblance." To most it is likely obvious that they are related, but Finel hardly wants to assume anything.

Finel smiles, nodding his acknowledgement. "So far just about everyone here has been quite receptive, but I'm glad to know there's someone I can turn to if there's ever a problem."

He has more trouble outside of the Gallows, particularly around Lowtown, but thankfully it's nothing that he hasn't been able to handle or ignore.

"Sorrel?" The effect of the name is immediate--Beleth perks up, a warm smile on her face at the mention of the other Dalish. It's pretty obvious before she even speaks that yes, she's related to him. "We're twins--thus the resemblance." And it always pleases her when people confirm yes, they do look alike.

"I hope he hasn't given you trouble." Though it's obvious by the look on her face, that she expects the kind of trouble Sorrel might bring to be a little less dire than the trouble he might get otherwise.

"But in all seriousness, I'm glad to hear that people have been respectful. And of course, you can always speak to whoever your Division Head is. If I may, have you made any decisions about what you'll be doing here...?" It's said as politely as possible--she's not trying to ferret out information or anything, just learn more about the new guy.

"Oh - yes, of course. I can see it now." It's wonderful the way mention of her twin lights up her whole face. While clan members of a similar age are sometimes as close as siblings, Finel has always been envious of those with real ones. He smiles, shaking his head.

"No, rather I'm glad we were able to help one another out of trouble. I'm glad to have met you both, now."

He glances back down at the books and notes spread about the table, a rather disorganized mess for the moment, thinking before turning back to Beleth.

"I've become very interested in lending my skills as a healer, although I feel as though there is so much more to learn than what I arrived with.

But lately I've also been studying more about the Fade, as well. I won't say I'm an expert, but I'm willing to lend a hand with research in whatever capacity I may."

"Oh? What did Sorrel do, that required being helped out of trouble?" It can't be that serious, or she would've heard of it—either through her brother, or the various resources granted to the Scoutmaster. So there's probably no need to be concerned—unless there are people she'll need to apologize to. While Beleth loves her brother dearly, he has a decided lack of verbal filter.

As Finel explains his interests, Beleth shifts her focus—first to the table (she can’t judge, her desk isn’t much better), than to him, nodding along thoughtfully. "Well, there are plenty of healers about that would be glad to help you, I'm sure. I can list off a few, if you would like? As for the Fade—Well, there is the Rifts and the Veil project. They're currently leaderless, but I'm sure you would be welcome to join, and you can speak to Provost Thranduil if you have any questions about it."

A pause, then she adds, "Provost Thranduil is in charge of the Research Division in its entirety, so he may be a good person to go to if you need anything to aid you in your research, or if you want to seek out others who might need your aid. He coordinates all of that."

"He didn't do anything particularly - it was during the haunting that was shortly after I arrived." More than that he won't really say; if Sorrel hadn't told her, there might be a reason, or it might be that it simply wasn't important enough for him to mention.

His interest is obviously piqued when she offers a few suggestions.

"I would be grateful for anyone you can recommend, and for their help." The mention of Thranduil has him a bit surprised.

"I happened to meet the Provost that same night," although he had been in no state to discuss any plans or ideas for what he might come to do in the Inquisition then. "In that case I will certainly seek out his guidance."

Finel smiles. "Ma Serannas, Lethallan. I am glad for your help."

OPEN | so much to learn, so little time

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