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WHO: Gavin and OPEN
WHAT: Gavin getting his bearings of Skyhold as the Inquisition reels from its loss.
WHEN: Beginning of game timeline, aka, nowish?
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: He's a derp, don't say I didn't warn you. Also, as I mentioned in his app, he's spent a long time wandering Thedas - so if you'd like to have it so they've already met previous to the conclave, and want to hash out some back history, let me know.
WHAT: Gavin getting his bearings of Skyhold as the Inquisition reels from its loss.
WHEN: Beginning of game timeline, aka, nowish?
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: He's a derp, don't say I didn't warn you. Also, as I mentioned in his app, he's spent a long time wandering Thedas - so if you'd like to have it so they've already met previous to the conclave, and want to hash out some back history, let me know.
He hadn't expected to feel such a weight of helpless loss. After all, he hadn't even met her, despite being in Haven at the time. Despite somehow surviving the mess than ensued. He'd seen her, sure, but she was something high above him and they never actually crossed paths. Which was why, when her death hit him so hard, he was surprised.
It wasn't even the hopelessness that the situation was prone to give birth to. It was honestly for her - for the individual, rather than the Mark on her hand. But how could you mourn a person you never really knew?
Mostly, it turned out, by throwing himself into absolutely anything else. (At least this sort of running from his problems was productive. Mostly.) Luckily, Skyhold was hardly without things to do. The place was a shambles - an absolute mess - so he mostly tried to tag onto whatever work group was currently working. He sort of forgot to sleep, but that wasn't strange in of itself. Nor was the fact that he wasn't actually making himself very useful. He kept getting distracted. It wasn't his fault that everything in this place was fascinating. And fascinating things were much, much better than grief.
Which was why, anyone who happened to be in Skyhold, could find him in some very peculiar places. He'd managed to nearly plummet to his death from the rookery, get tangled in cobwebs in the hidden library in the basement, climb through the hole in Cullen's roof to get distracted by a bird instead of trying to fix it, and even had spent thirty minutes trying to get to know one of the horses. Also he kept not watching where he was going - physically running into people, or backing up into them, letting out a hasty apology and a lopsided, shameful grin.

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"Great!" He shook himself - a bad idea, in hindsight, as it made him wince painfully - but then he laughed and motioned for her to follow him to the tavern.
"No drinking games, I think - I'm pretty sure literally any Qunari could drink me under the table..."
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"I'll do my utmost to pry you away at the worst possible time," Gavin agreed happily as they stepped out into the courtyard - the sun having set below the mountains, but still lit the sky. "I'm not as much of a lightweight as I once was. Spend any time drinking with dwarves, and you learn how to hold your liquor..."
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"After three months of it, I'm actually almost fond of dwarven ale," Gavin grinned. "Can't claim to have had the pleasure of any Qunari brews, however. Haven't found an opportunity."
He pulled the door open with a flourish - ow - and held it open for her as he considered the matter thoughtfully. "Do they have any in stock here, I wonder?"
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She's not anyone's babysitter, but it wouldn't be right not to say anything about the strength of such brews. Even most humans underestimate it.
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"Haven't found anything that's killed me yet, obviously!"
Not that fate wasn't doing its best, as Korrin had already well seen.
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"Famous last words, you know. I'd rather die in battle than on a tavern floor, but you do you. I'll stick with that new brandy they were talking about getting in, that sounded promising."
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He grinned. "Brandy is. Grab us a table, I'll get our drinks," He said, before he made his way over to the bar to arrange just that. Unluckily for him (or perhaps luckily), they did not have any Qunari brew, so Gavin came back with an expression that resembled a puppy dog, a glass of Brandy, and a normal mug of Ferelden beer.
"No luck," he said mournfully.
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"It's for the best, though if you don't believe me I bet you'll still have your chance before long. I've met -three? no, four- others of my kind running around here, so they might try to accommodate that before long. But if you do, it can't hurt to bring along someone willing to pry you off the floor."
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"To be fair, though - of all the peoples in the world, the Qunari are the ones I know the least about."
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Well that answered the question he hadn't really wanted to ask. "Well, we have that in common too, then. My clan usually roams around the Free Marches somewhere."
He smiled at that before taking a sip of his drink. "Were you in a circle, then, or...?"
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He smiled, then, though, because such karma was often rare, and nothing to sneeze at. "They sound like someone important to you," He said, his tone softening slightly. "They were a good mentor?"
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Her expression softens and she nods, thinking back. "Definitely. She taught me that magic is a gift and I needed to treat it with respect, but not fear or hate what I was. It's training like that which makes me think we don't need Circles in the first place. If you have someone willing to explain the dangers of the Fade and teach you how to control yourself, that's all you need. You don't need to be a damn prisoner for the rest of your life."
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"Most of our mages stay with us," Gavin continued, "We usually keep two a clan, but Ashara has three - two of which are here, now! So the idea of keep mages prisoners at all is... very strange. Our Keepers are always mages."
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"Usually they're sent to other clans who have a need of them," Gavin explained, and then looked a little guilty. "Sometimes they're just - left to go their own way, but... Well. Like I said, we have one mage more than we're really supposed to, so my clan obviously doesn't like to do that."
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