faderift | MOD PLOT ↠ Endlessly Far Beneath My Feet

MOD PLOT ↠ Endlessly Far Beneath My Feet

WHO: Open
WHAT: A visit to Orzammar
WHEN: For about 10 days in early Bloomingtide
WHERE: Orzammar
NOTES: OOC post. Please use content warnings in your comment subject lines as required.

Orzammar is not all that far from Kirkwall: a short trip across the Waking Sea to Jader, then an even shorter (though much more exhausting than it seemed in dreams) hike up into the Frostback mountains brings them to the great stone doors that stand between Orzammar and the surface. Once those doors creak and groan shut in their wake—and the next set of doors, too, designed like a waterlock to keep the sky from reaching the city—it is no easy thing to open them again. No one's going to see the sun until they leave.

The great thaig within the mountains is much warmer than the chilly pass through them, thanks to the molten lake beneath it, which also keeps many of the open streets at least dimly lit 24 hours per day, until they wander off further than the glow can reach. The thaig is magnificent, brimming with distinctive angular architecture and statues honoring dwarven Paragons and ancestors. It's also sprawling. Despite giving the deceptive impression at the entrance of a hollow dome that can be taken in with a single look around, the thaig is home to one hundred thousand dwarves, give or take a few thousand. And that's with a dwindling population. It was built for even more. Buildings with narrow facades burrow and wind deep into the stone behind them. So do side streets that branch away from the Commons at every level. Most of them are lyrium-lit and safe to travel. But given the absence of any sun or moon, the way they ascend and descend and loop through the rock, they can be very disorienting to navigate without stone sense.

Among the locals on the street there's a lingering, palpable sense of relief that the worst seems to have passed, so far as the darkspawn at Orzammar's doors is concerned. It's put most people in a particularly good mood, and made them a bit more disposed than usual to treat the influx of visitors from above as an entertaining novelty. That won't stop the occasional dwarf from being suspicious of outsiders here to interfere with the Assembly or bitter that they want something when Orzammar never asked them for help, but friendly interest will be more common by far.

ACCOMMODATIONS

Riftwatch's Division Heads and Project Leaders will be the personal guests of House Bemot and put up in the house's sprawling, mazelike estate in the Diamond Quarter. The residence is brimming with artwork: statues of the house's prominent ancestors, dazzling stonework on columns and doorways, mosaics on the floors, and art both dwarven and imported lining the walls. They're given private rooms—many far from each other, down different turning corridors carved back into the stone—with large beds and hot water piped up from nearer to Orzammar's molten depths. The rooms are nice but don't mistake this for only an unfair perk; there are servants listening and marking their comings and goings at all times.

Since visitors from the surface are much rarer and their stays usually as short as possible, Orzammar is minimally equipped for large swells of visitors, so the rest of Riftwatch's personnel will be packed into one of two inns located in the tier of the Commons where merchants and other surface-dwellers typically reside when they're permitted access to the thaig.

The Paragon's Rest is the nicer of the two. Two ages ago it was the grand home of a prominent merchant house that has since died out; its name comes from the fact that two (two!) paragons have stayed there since the time it was converted into an inn. It boasts a modest number of small, private rooms and shared rooms with artful dividers, all with stone walls that have been carved with intricate geometric patterns. Meals and drinks are available in an expansive hall where local well-to-do merchants frequently play Diamondback and make expensive deals. The inn's position near the gates and something about the design and directions of the corridors minimizes the heat from Orzammar's molten center and even allows for a breeze to reach the common areas now and then.

Unfortunately, the Paragon's Rest doesn't have room for everyone, and the Buttered Nug is less pleasant. The inn was more recently a shop with expansive back storage for its inventory. The shop is now a cramped, sweaty tavern room, where no matter the hour a nug is always roasting—and constantly being basted with butter—over the fire, while more nugs snuffle in a holding pen in a corner, awaiting their doom. The proprietor tries to encourage everyone who passes through to have a plate. It's his grandmother's recipe. You're going to love it. The diners and residents are mostly merchants of the struggling and/or shady variety. The former storage rooms are unadorned, nearly more cavern than room, and large enough to be shared by large numbers of people, with stone lattice-work dividers between beds that provide very little actual privacy. Choosing the room deeper into the stone will make the temperature less sweltering but significantly increase the number of spiders in your bed.

Fortunately, no one has to do more than sleep there if they don't want to. And maybe try just one plate of grandma's buttered nug?

WORK

Riftwatch's primary objectives in Orzammar are sharing information about the war and making a good impression. While speaking to the Assembly might be the centerpiece of those efforts, it's not the extent of them. The noble caste may sit at the top of the dwarven hierarchy, but they're not the only ones with sway or useful resources and nudging public opinion more generally could have its benefits.

There are some specific ways Riftwatch can make itself visibly useful to Orzammar, to help counter the argument that the surface is asking for help without being willing to provide any in return. Assisting with red lyrium removal, installing cleansing runes, and teaching members of the mining caste how to do both for themselves will be priorities. And while the enemy's retreat to the north has lessened the pressure on the thaig, Orzammar lives in constant fear of darkspawn all the same. Riftwatch members suited for combat will be assigned shifts with the dwarven troops on patrol in the near sectors of the Deep Roads or standing watch at the great doors that block off the ancient tunnels.

Meetings with various members of the middle-rank castes (warrior, smith, artisan, mining, merchant) have been arranged and assigned, some with an explicit focus on discussing the war effort and providing information about what Riftwatch has learned and experienced, while others are focused on building trade connections or exploring potential opportunities to collaborate on research—and if opportunities to tell them more about the war effort in the process just happen to arise, all the better. These castes span a wide swathe of dwarven society between nobles and servants, and the meetings will reflect that, ranging from elaborate dinner parties with merchants as wealthy as any lord to casual chats over a pint with a busy blacksmith in a lower-tier tavern. Reactions will also vary, but most are interested in hearing what Riftwatch has to say, even if they're not necessarily disposed to agree. Nearly all visitors to Orzammar are merchants, and having access to this many surfacers and non-dwarves is a novelty.

Members of the Shaperate will take a more pointed and professional interest in their work. Shapers may set up appointments to talk to anyone who's able to speak about their experiences in the war so far, taking copious notes. (On paper. You're not special enough to go straight into the Memories.)

For everyone Riftwatch set a meeting with there are ten more they didn't, so a major part of the company's work in the city will be cultivating more casual interactions and both gathering and dispensing information that way. Someone might be assigned to frequent a particular tavern popular with Warriors and make connections there and find opportunities to discuss what's going on above. Someone else might be asked to drop in on a series of armorers and try to get a sense of current prices, how busy they are, and where most of their stock is being sold. Other assignments might be even more general--spend time in this cafe, or at the nug races, or chatting up merchants in this sector of the market, and see what conversations you can strike up or overhear. Talking folks into support for the war effort is great, but any generally positive interaction counts at this point, so Riftwatch members will be encouraged to pitch in wherever they see help needed, but also to be careful not to get entangled in controversy.

To coordinate all of this work, Riftwatch will have command of a private dining room in the Paragon's Rest to use as a meeting room, where everyone can come back to report, regroup, and strategize after a meeting or outing.

LEISURE

Anyone who finds themselves with downtime will also not have trouble finding things to fill it with. The Commons is lined with merchant stalls selling street food and a wide variety of fine dwarven crafts: metal goods ranging from knives to toys, clothing and bags covered in carefully placed little beads, intricate jewelry, and mechanical and enchanted inventions rarely seen on the surface. There's also an artisan who will hammer your likeness into a sheet of metal while you wait. It's all cheaper than it would be in an above-ground marketplace, as long as you're willing to haggle. Shops and smithies built into the stone sell weapons and armor—or do custom work, though getting anything completed before Riftwatch leaves Orzammar will require paying a premium.

The centerpiece of the Orzammar Commons in the Proving Arena. Currently there are no ongoing provings, but there are warriors and aspirants hanging around the surrounding areas to practice and posture. They might invite a competent-looking newcomer to spar.

An alternative to violence is nug racing, where hungry, specially-bred nugs are painted with house symbols and raced through open-topped tunnels, dug into the ground to allow spectating from above. With little happening in the Proving arena at the moment, this is the more popular spectator event in Orzammar, drawing observers from every caste to cheer and gamble on the outcomes of a series of bracketed races. House Etoras' Deep Fried (called Fred) is favored to win, but House Aratack's Hops & Grain (Hoppy) isn't a bad bet, and Keltar's Perfect Baby (Baby) might pull off an upset.

And there is also, of course, an enormous pit of lava below the Commons. (This is not deadly somehow. We don't know.) A favorite game of some of the local children is collecting trash and inviting newcomers to guess or wager on which items will burst into flames before they hit the lava and which will not. These demonstrations usually end by either a fake attempt to toss a friend over the edge as the final object, or a gleeful (and disprovable) explanation that this is why no one in Orzammar is ever found murdered. They only vanish. Fun!

If they'd like to explore beyond the Commons and the Diamond Quarter, no one will actively prevent Riftwatch members from venturing into Dust Town, the dilapidated sector of the city where the casteless live and the Carta rules. Outsiders might even be able to stumble into the area without realizing it, if they get turned around in some of the narrower back streets carved through the rock. But however they arrive, visitors to Dust Town are unlikely to make it very far without running into trouble.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Most dwarves don't know elves. They know of elves, certainly, but it's rare for an elf to make their way to the underground city. Suffice to say, this has made the elves of Riftwatch somewhat popular.

It doesn't hurt Adrasteia that she is a Grey Warden mage as well.

When Sidony makes eye contact, Adrasteia smiles in welcome at a familiar face, returning the woman's curtsey with one of her own. She likes Sidony— she likes most everyone, truth be told, but the Navarran woman is an accomplished non-magical healer in her own right. Adrasteia has felt fortunate to work alongside her.

"Certainly making my best attempts. Dust Town has the greatest need for people like us, but being well-received there even as a healer has its problems." Which is to say Adrasteia would rather not get jumped while representing Riftwatch.

"Have you eaten? I haven't yet and I was wondering if you would like to join me?"

On the other hand, Sidony is nothing more than the embodiment of uselessness to most people - or at least to those that don't know her well enough. She has the appearance of nothing more than a noble lady, someone who cares for very little more than her dresses and her money, and maybe that had once been the case. She had been rather obsessed with fashion for a while, but work with Riftwatch was a quick cure for that.

She is wiser in a great deal many things these days.

Arms crossed behind her back, she lets her smile settle into place. She is certainly fond of Adrasteia - there's no reason not to be - and her eyes skim her up and down before she makes herself properly comfortable in new company.

"They are rather insular people, as best I've heard," she admits with a nod, thoughtful. "I wouldn't trust strange outsiders if I were them, and I doubt we've done much to offer them confidence in us."

But, oh. The offer takes her by surprise for a moment (people want one thing from her and that is healing) but she nods her head.

"I would like that."

Her smile widens.

"Oh, good. I'm at the Buttered Nug and don't tell anyone I said this, but I think I've exhausted my interest in that particular meal early on." They've still got days of this mission to go, and she doesn't want nug.

The dwarves would probably never speak to her again if they overheard her at this point, she figures.

She crosses the space to stand closer to Sidony, inclining her head upwards at the other woman. "There used to be a small restaurant in the lower area of the Commons that serves a very hearty and delicious stew with thick noodles that I think are made from mushrooms. I never asked exactly what was in it, and I shan't start now."

"Do you really think I've been eating there this whole time? I've been desperate for anything remotely different. You would think being married to the Head of Diplomacy would ensure more perks, but alas."

She scoffs, shaking her head as she moves closer to Adrasteia, offering her arm with a soft, slow smile. It's a dangerous game, mentioning her husband - not because people might be offended but because they might get the wrong idea about their attachment.

"A stew and noodles sounds divine. It's not what I am accustomed to, but what is life without a little adventure?" She hums. "I'll tolerate mushrooms, for the good company."

The Grey Warden takes the woman's arm easily and with a smile to boot; the first time she'd spoken with Sidony she had clocked that the woman shared a last name with someone in the Riftwatch's upper echelons. Now she's actually interacted with both of them, and while they seem... not oddly matched, exactly, there is something there.

Something that Adrasteia will not be mentioning, because it is none of her business.

"Did you at least get a room alone? I'm in a room with several others of Riftwatch and various merchants coming into Orzammar." A small eyeroll. "One of them snores something terrible, honestly."

Sidony is aware that there is a coyness about her, that her natural flirtation is something she's never quite been able to swallow, but she's not trying to actively engage it here. She genuinely likes this woman, genuinely likes her company, and she's being warm. Being herself. It's something that only a few have been able to draw out of her - and she smiles, leaning close as she speaks.

"I try to get a room alone no matter where I go," she nods. Is it supposed to be a secret she doesn't share with her spouse? Who cares. "But I was less successful here. It's not Nevarra, after all."

A sigh, and she looks forward again, patting Adrasteia's arm.

"I'd rather sleep outside than share with someone who snores. Honestly, I need my sleep."

People have all sorts of arrangements with their spouses and all sorts of reasons to marry in the first place; Adrasteia doesn't think much of it at the moment, but she will mull over that bit of information later.

"Orzammar is not really used to those who aren't merchants resting beneath their stone ceilings, I think. When I came here the first time, after I became a Grey Warden, it was much the same — crowded lodgings and not a great deal of sleep as a result." She huffs, amused at herself, at the memory of that nineteen-year-old elven Warden she'd been and her forever unamused Warden Commander. "I'm sorry you weren't able to get the solo arrangement you desired; I'd offer my room but it isn't much of an improvement, I'd be willing to bet. Too many souls inside."

As much as she likes Tiffany and Sister Sara, there are more than a few snoring souls amongst those sleeping in the room. Adrasteia herself probably counted amongst them, now that she thinks about it.

Well. No one's perfect. She tilts her head a little and considers Sidony.

"You must miss Nevarra a great deal." It can't be easy, being so far from home in the midst of a war that threatens to tear one's homeland apart at the seams.

Sidony is, if nothing else, grateful for all that Byerly has done for her. If she cannot express it properly with her words, she will do so with her actions - with gifts, with all the softness she has and with her company. She thinks he understands even if no one else does.

"They're not used to very much that one might call civilised, but I am beginning to learn that civilisation is different for all of us," she admits, nodding her head. "I've seen little to impress me in terms of politeness, but I suppose they have a rich culture that I might as well attempt to indulge in. As long as it is not nug I will take it for what it is."

She pats Adrasteia's hand, her smile soft and almost coy. Talking about Nevarra never hurt, really, but it did leave an ache - one she is still dealing with.

"I miss it sometimes," which is easy enough to admit. "But I will not lie and say that Riftwatch is worse. There are things I can do here that were beyond me at home, beyond me when I was under the eyes of my family. I much prefer my life here."

"Oh, I imagine they pride themselves on quite the opposite." From politeness, that is. Of course, those in the higher strata of society tend to be a little different. While no one looks down on her for being a Grey Warden it is usually clear by her speech, her bearing, and her dress that she is not exactly the most comfortable or familiar amongst the wealthy.

If it weren't for knowing Sidony from Riftwatch prior, Adrasteia would be having a harder time of this interaction, honestly.

"I'm glad you have a life you prefer, without interference." A soft smile. "Everyone deserves that much at the very least." From what she knows of Sidony, the woman is kind and invested in the well-being of others. Why wouldn't she be allowed to live her life as she wished?

Aristocrats are strange about their children, she knows from stories. At least in Alienages parents just seemed happy if their children lived long enough to have lives of their own.

Either way, they've arrived at the restaurant, and Adrasteia turns her smile onto the host at the door who shows them to a small booth.

"This place serves soup and noodles and soup with noodles and that's about it."

The reply is a gentle hum, her arm tightening a little around Adrasteia's as she walks alongside her. There is much to be said about the lacking politeness between dwarf and man, but it's not as if she has a great deal of experience with the former. The only one she knows well is Sawbones, and even that is mostly a professional level.

It seems cruel to call them names in her head, but it's not as if they can hear.

Fingers tapping on Adrasteia's hand, she smiles, expression almost coy.

"Oh, darling, I still have interference. My mother tried to kidnap me on the day of my wedding, did you know? Stole me away and shoved me on a boat. It was my darling husband that saved me that day. It's that sort of thing that makes you realise that perhaps we ought to distance ourselves from people." It's been a gift to get away from her mother, from her father, but at the same time...

Well, anyone can be homesick.

Lifting her head, she watches as they're pointed through, trying not to let her nose wrinkle.

"Then I suppose I'll have the oysters." Look, she can make a joke.

Adrasteia laughs as she sits down; she can't help it. The look on the face of the dwarf showing them their seats, who mutters something about 'Stone-damned Grey Wardens and surfacers', doesn't help even a little bit.

She hasn't laughed in a while. It feels too good, even if the joke doesn't call for as much mirth as she has at this moment, but she does manage to hiccup herself into behaving politely long enough to order noodles without broth for herself. "Oh, and ale, please."

"Madame de Foncé had mentioned a kidnapping but I hadn't imagined it was you who were victim to your own family." She shakes her head just enough for a few loose strands to bounce around her face. "That can't have been easy. But we don't have to keep discussing it if you don't wish to."

It makes her lips twitch into a smile that appears more genuine rather than coy; at least she can bring something nice and light to the damp darkness of the Deep Roads. She hardly cares about the dwarves and what they might think - she'll forget them as soon as they're back home.

"Ale? Not wine? You are truly testing my taste buds today, aren't you, darling?" But she doesn't really seem to put up much more of a protest than that, nodding her head as she makes herself comfortable, ordering the same. What else is there here, really? She's not going to drink the water.

"They simply wanted me to marry someone else and were quite upset when I chose my own spouse. He was supposedly in disgrace, but he has been nothing but genuine and kind to me." She shakes her head, leaning back. "It hardly bothers me now, Adrasteia. I am content with being estranged and content with my path. No ill feeling here, I assure you."

There's a soft blush at being called 'darling'; obviously, it is an endearment but doesn't need to mean anything specific, but all the same, Adrasteia is unused to endearments and pet names at this point in her life.

"I am, and I would be very sorry except I think you may enjoy it. The ale, that is. It tastes like good apples, fresh and crisp, and I have no idea how it's done." Not that she plans on asking, mind. She already knows the particular intricacies of brewing are far beyond her.

Arranged marriages aren't so uncommon in Thedas that even Adrasteia can picture it becoming an issue when a child picks their own spouse. Still, she's sorry to hear that estrangement is the solution in this specific case. It seems like an impossible thing to be furious at one's own child for, especially at the cost of not speaking to them again. Instead of saying that Adrasteia focuses on the positive, folding her hands on the table top in front of her. "It's good you've found someone who is kind to you. It matters more than most would say, I think."

Luckily, Sidony is not the type to push - at least, not in these matters. Her eyes drink in Adrasteia's face and lets her own settle into one of a pleased little smirk. It's more like the cat who caught a mouse than anything else, but she's not going to go as far as leaping at prey. She can enjoy this for what it is and not demand more, surely.

"Good apples? Down here? You've caught my interest," leaning back, she looks around, examining the other customers. Not many of their own, a few staring at them, and that's enough for her to know she has to act on her best behaviour. As much as she would love to give them all a piece of her mind she recognises her position as a member of Riftwatch.

Talking about Byerly, at least, makes some tension fade from her shoulders.

"He's far sweeter than people give her credit for, but don't tell him I said that," she laughs. "I am more lucky than most, I'm aware of that, and I'll not forget it any time soon. I hope that others can find someone equally as lovely for companionship, whatever it is they might seek."

The aforementioned ale arrives, before their food, at just the correct timing. Adrasteia takes a sip of her own, smiling over the rim of her mug; it tastes just as she remembers, which is very much like apples and rather delicious.

She's glad to see that tension ebb from Sidony a little, and feels glad that she didn't mention Byerly's odd insistence at Wysteria's wedding that ghosts are a part of every such ceremony. "I wouldn't dream of it." Mostly because Byerly seems like the sort of man who knows exactly how he comes across to other people, and 'sweet' is not the word she would've used for that, prior to this conversation. "My husband was much the same; very sweet with me, and perhaps not as much with others." A small laugh. "Now I'm not certain what I would even look for in companionship. It seems a rough ask to have someone be close to you, when you know your time is so limited." She's been a Warden for over ten years, now; she knows that her still being alive is rare.

Sidony looks at hers down her nose, clearly not looking much in terms of impressed, but she tries. She sips, nose wrinkling, but she doesn't spit it out. It's clearly tolerable.

Brushing down her clothes, she makes a soft noise, almost a hum. A husband, for the both of them, and she wonders that that means. Does it limit her chances, if she even dared to take one? It seems quite silly to even imagine it, given their situations, and all she can do is shake her head and breathe out, making herself as close to comfortable as she can be. No need for silly, idle thoughts, after all.

"Perhaps that is something with men," she shakes her head. "Kindness to those in private that they will not share in public. It's understandable in a world like this one, don't you think?" Leaning forward, Sidony offers a coy little smile. "We're all running on rather short timetables here, darling. I know yours is a little different, but each of us could lose our lives at any moment. Take what you want before someone else does is what I say."

Clearly tolerable is probably the best that Adrasteia can ask for, honestly. Sidony's nose wrinkle makes her smile; at least the other woman is making an attempt, but she suspects it's all just a matter of taste, and while Orzammar is famed for many things, it's finery in places that aren't the smithies is not one of them.

At the hum, Adrasteia raises her eyebrows but figures it has to do with the conversation at hand and the proclivities of the men they've married in their lifetimes. "More than understandable, really. There's not much that rewards them for putting their kindnesses on display, after all."

She casts her eyes down at the table. "The problem with that is that I'm not sure what I want. I've lived... an entire lifetime beyond what I expected, as a Warden. I know what I wanted in the life before that, but now?" She shakes her head a little, cheeks flushing as she considers it. "Harder to say. To not be alone, in the greater scheme of things, I think, but anything more specific than that is..." Opening her hands on the table. "Difficult."

The best she can offer is not spitting it out - it's not the worst thing that she's ever had in her life, considering some of the filth that she had been offered on missions, water that just barely passed health standards. She'd do rather a lot to make a good impression on those she cared about, so drinking ale is hardly a terrible forfeit.

"No, the world punishes them for their kindness," she waves a hand. "I know it was true for my family at home and for many of the people I've seen her. Vulnerability is a danger, especially in a place foreign or brand new. Riftwatch accepts all, of course, but we're still fighting a war."

She sighs, leaning back. It's a difficult question, the future, but Sidony has always been more of a live in the moment type of person. Maybe she should be a little more forward thinking with her plans.

"Then don't be alone," Sidony shakes her head. "There are many people here who could offer you friendship and more, if that is what you're searching for. We don't have much room for anything specific when we're barely aware of what might happen tomorrow. I do understand."

"..it is just that simple, isn't it?" Adrasteia sighs a little, smiling as she takes another sip of her ale. "You make choices that lead to decisions that lead to having a different life than before. I've found making friends has not been too difficult, here with Riftwatch; I feel fortunate about that."

It helps, she knows, that she's easily approachable and pleasant in general but still. It's a nice change from the last few years. "The rest? Is more difficult, for me, but I think perhaps that is just because I am... rusty, in terms of relationships."

Her expression is a bit of a mix between 'what can you do' and being embarrassed about herself. A little shrug, and then, food appears.

"Oh, it all sounds very simple, my darling, but it hardly is. Decisions happen, but none of those are easy. Making friends seems simply until you realise all the complications that come hand in hand with it." Like, for example, trying to befriend another noblewoman but then realising not only is she in love with your husband but she loathes you for thinking your marriage is real.

Times are what they are, however.

Shaking her head, Sidony leans back and lets out a soft little sigh. She waits until the food is in front of her and the guest to their table is gone before she wiggles a little to make herself a touch more comfortable. It's the best she can do right now.

"How long has it been, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Since I've been in a relationship? Helec was the last, and that was nearly eleven years past." She shakes her head a little; she doesn't mind, but she is embarrassed a bit. "It's... almost depressing, really, but I was very focused on becoming a better mage, a good Warden, that I didn't allow for anything else to get in the way." Even when she dearly wanted it to, and now?

Now she's wondering if she's wasted her time by only half living her life, as it were.

"So you see my conundrum." A rueful smile. "I'm rather rusty at it all. Besides, I'm not sure I'm built for something more intimate with someone I don't already know at the very least. Which is solved by getting to know more people, I know." Or being honest with the ones she already does.

Terrifying, truly. Especially the risk of rejection.

"So long ago? My, you must have been terribly lonesome." Not that Sidony has much room to talk or discuss. No, she has been married nigh on two years and only had one real relationship, and that is not one inclined to last. Does rustiness apply when one has barely scratched the surface? Perhaps, perhaps not. She's unsure. It's not her forte of particular choice.

But she can pick at her food and listen to a pretty girl talk. Isn't that enough?

"At least you're making the first steps," she acknowledges with a nod. "I am sure you'll find someone here - we're a rather tight knit community, to say the least. Most of us, anyway." She sighs softly. "I would like to think that we all find at least someone to carry us through it all, be it friendship or otherwise."

Sidony is barely able to recognise what she wants (a woman, not a man); bridging that gap is hard.

Adrasteia skims right past the fact that she's been terribly lonely for going on several years, now. It won't do her well to dwell on that, and she doesn't want Sidony to feel sorry for her. Best to look at the bright side. "I've been very fortunate that the few friendships I've started have thrived here," she admits, nodding. She could say that the few weddings Riftwatch has hosted amongst its members speak well to that idea, that there will be someone for everyone, but. Well. She's not as naive as all that.

Beyond that, she's not certain that's what she'd want, to get married again. There are other ways to share her life, or what remains of it.

"Friendship is the best beginning to anything else, anyway." A soft smile. "At least for me. The hard part will be not being afraid to take that further step."

Sidony has been lucky in that respect; she has never wanted for companionship in her life. She had her brother, for a time, and then her suitors, her mother, her tutors and educators. When she arrived at Riftwatch she fairly swiftly had Byerly, too, which was certainly more luck than anything else. He is the gift that keeps on giving.

"Good," Sidony nods her head, thin hand reaching out to lift up her ale. She still looks a touch reluctant, but she is doing her best - she is trying, and she thinks that says enough about her affection for Adrasteia. Lifting her drink, she leans forward with a coy smile.

"To friendship, then, and how it may persevere even in the midst of all this dirt and darkness."

Raising her ale in response, Adrasteia's eyes shine as she smiles in return. She likes Sidony, really, enjoys spending time around the woman. It doesn't hurt that she's gorgeous. "To friendship, persevering and also leading the way to other happiness-es."

Their ales clink together and she takes a decent-sized swallow before nodding and setting it down. "Next time, we'll eat somewhere of your choosing." Sidony's been such a good sport, but Adrasteia can tell it's very different from what the woman would have opted for on her own.

MOD PLOT ↠ Endlessly Far Beneath My Feet

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time to stick a pin in this, y/n?