I've got my kit bag, my heavy boots
WHO: Asher Hardie; open
WHAT: Asher arrives in Skyhold, John Cena's theme plays in the distance
WHEN: mid-late Wintermarch; feel free to just bump into him later than his arrival
WHERE: Skyhold, by the healing tents and the stables but if you want to wildcard bumping into him then go for it
NOTES: language most likely, if you'd like to assume past CR then hit me up.
WHAT: Asher arrives in Skyhold, John Cena's theme plays in the distance
WHEN: mid-late Wintermarch; feel free to just bump into him later than his arrival
WHERE: Skyhold, by the healing tents and the stables but if you want to wildcard bumping into him then go for it
NOTES: language most likely, if you'd like to assume past CR then hit me up.
The rest of the Boneflayers make for the tavern almost immediately, a collection of rogues and one annoyed mage abandoning their leader with a pouch of coin to leave Asher alone, just through the main gates of Skyhold trying to coax a tired grumpy bronto to the stables, the wagon behind it groaning with supplies. Meat, vegetables, leather, wool, some wheels of cheese, even some home-brewed ale, all packed high and lashed into the wagon, a gift of support from his family they've all been complaining about since they rumbled through the Hinterlands and up. He might be a big guy but he can't do everything himself, not when there's also a grizzled looking mabari plodding along too.
Most of the people he makes eye contact with seem to be looking away quickly, which y'know, rude but unsurprising when you're Asher's height and tend to look half-feral.
"Look if someone will just point me to the bloody kitchens so I can get rid of this I'll be grateful." Only no one is helping, please help him before someone gets punched.

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"Oh, yeah. I love it. There's a Templar I send running every time I so much as look at him. And hey, guess what? Mal's here, too. In fact, we just came back from Kirkwall not too long ago. We should get together over drinks and tell you all about it. And then Bronson will have his buddy again."
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"Why were you in Kirkwall? Don't you remember that I lived there for years? The place was mad as a sack of cats before the Qunari showed up and everything I heard made it sound like it only got madder still." To think, a place was too crazy for Asher? The end of the world should've been predicted right there and then when they finally loaded up three new crewmembers and set off to less murky pastures. "Do I have to punch dearest Mal for dragging you there?"
He doesn't really need an excuse for that, it'd be a gentle punch. A love tap. If only for the sake of Jayne because Bronson doesn't really meet too many other mabari.
"How many Templars are there? Nasir scouted about, reported back about mages but you lot stick out more than Templars seeing as you've got your staves with you."
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"We were sent to retrieve something. More than that, and we should have Mal with us, though no punching. I agreed to come along for his sake, he needed someone familiar having his back in that shithole. Besides, I'm here and intact, aren't I? Proof that a Vashoth can survive Kirkwall even after what the Qunari did."
At mention of Templars, Korrin snorts and crosses her arms as she glances around. "We outnumber the Templars, but there's still too fucking many for my taste. They're reorganizing, too, which I'm not yet convinced isn't meant to undermine the mage council. By the way, I'm in that. I was too loud with my opinions, which they took as volunteering for a seat."
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"'Retrieve something'." He snorts, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the wagon, ignoring the way it creaks in protest. "Right, I expect that from my Carta boys, I hope it was worth it at least. Has it- has it actually recovered from the whole explosion thing?"
Also are there demons in the street because fuck that shit he is having absolutely none of that crap.
Of course, Templars are going to be Templars, he doesn't know why he's surprised. "Got sticks rammed so far up their arses they can't use their brains anymore," he complains, dragging a hand down his face and to his chin where he scratches beneath his beard. "Wait, wait, wait. You? Korrin Ataash on a council? Oh this I have to see, do you have to pretend to be diplomatic and do they take suggestives of suplexing Templars as serious action items?"
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Ah, suplexing Templars. Your ideas are always gold, Asher. Korrin allows herself to imagine that for a moment, a grin forming. "I wish. Sadly enough, they'd see that as 'Templar baiting' and a negative. And me, diplomatic? Hell, no. Mostly I just remind them -loudly- that apostates like me exist and we're not bowing to Templars or Templar ass-kissers. But you can see that for yourself, the meetings are open to all."
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"But see, I'm a free agent. A soldier of fortune and I'm guessing there's a fortune to be found in offering to punch Templars or suplex them or do any number of things. It's not baiting if it's a third party who just happens to know someone right? I can be charming, you know that."
Look, he's even bringing out that smile. Korrin knows the one. The smile that means Asher is about to say something terrible without shame or the one that signals him about to flip a table on someone before he punches their teeth down their throats.
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"Oh, no doubt you'd find some interested parties. Especially when Templars presume authority even when they have none, which I've seen happen recently. A friend 'over-heard' their super-secret first meeting, and one of them dared to punish her for it. I'd say your work is cut out for you, Asher."
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"They did what!" His voice climbs, loud and rough, and Bronson's hackles rise in response until he bends down to rub his back and get him to relax again. Nostrils flaring, he inhales, holds the breathe and blows out slowly but she knows him, she knows this doesn't actually mean he's calm. "They're punishing people for listening in on them making plans that I'll guess are going to have an impact on people here whether any of us like it or not because they're Templars and even if the Chantry is washing all the dirty linen in public right now, they're still the Chantry and they still have the Templars by the short and curlies so of course their plans should be known. Fucking typical. You ever fancied a cup made from a Templar skull Korrin?"
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But his grudge is her own, despite differing reasons, and what happened to Beleth rankles at her. Someone else ought to know about the Templars taking liberty with their authority yet again. Maybe a giant angry bear of a man breathing down their necks is just what the need. Crossing her arms, her lips twitch slightly. "And what, give them even more reason to think my people savages? I'd rather have them alive and in angry tears, shackled by the knowledge that they have no more authority to imprison and abuse anyone. Let them watch as mages walk free and know they can't do a damn thing about it. That's what I truly fancy.
...but I won't speak for every other mage out there. Some might be interested in hiring your hairy Avvar self for protection."
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Like maybe knocking some of them off a cliff. So steep, so few people with actual experience up here.
"Doubt they'll paint part of me in a much friendlier light, we both know that, but it's less skin off my nose." Avvar have been around from the start, even Andraste was one of them, so Asher has only ever played up to his grandfather's side, pride even while his mother hotly denies. The things you do to live a life, denials were probably easier with him out of the house. "You might get more than angry tears when the lyrium runs out. That's a Chantry thing and I know that the dead Divine started it but, strictly speaking, it's not Chantry now is it? Maybe if they want to impose restrictions on mages, you lot ask for serious restrictions on their lyrium.
Because you know I'll be here. If they go a bit mad. As they're bloody prone to do. And that's offensive Korrin, you should know better, we can't help that we were built to survive this world better than everyone else with our good thick pelts."
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"The lyrium thing isn't a bad idea, though I doubt the Inquisition will support it when we need every able-bodied person we can get. Deliberately crippling soliders? Not going to happen. Though it should; what that shit does to them in the end...I don't know why anyone would deliberately put themselves through that. At least the red sort is fast."
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"Crippling in the short-term, maybe making sure they're not about to shoot themselves in the arse later, besides, character building. You lot are expected to go about your days with the Templars just roaming around casually and still probably spying because they can't do anything but that. I'm going to need to know more about the red stuff though, we heard about what went down in Kirkwall, even saw some of it making our way through the Hinterlands - are the stories as bad as the truth?"
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Asher would doubtless have steered them towards that sooner or later, so Korrin's just going to ease them over now. And ask for something to spoil Bronson with, naturally. Don't worry, elderly mabari, she won't forget you.
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The drinks are on Asher because he was taught a few manners in life if she's going to spoil his furry son. Dropping into his seat with enough force to make the chair protest, he takes a drink before clearing his throat. "Right, this red lyrium and Templar shit - what sort of mess have I managed to get myself balls deep in this time?"
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Korrin's story though, well that's not what he wants to hear and he scratches the mabari behind the ears as he listens, the frown growing. He got out of Kirkwall long before the Chantry explosion, before the Knight-Commander became a statue, but he still had friends and contacts limping out of it after. People he'd fought with, drank with, and plenty of Fereldan refugees finally making lives for themselves after years of hardship running from the Blight.
When his fist slams down on the table, Bronson doesn't jump but a lot of other patrons do, the din dropping for a few minutes as everyone waits but he lays his palm flat, taking another drink.
"No one deserves that. Not even Templars." For Asher, that's saying something when Korrin knows that he can't stand the Templars, even if it's not for the same reason as her. "How did this even happen? I know Carta, I know how the lyrium trade works and how smuggling it goes as well, but lyrium was always blue, and it just rotted their heads instead of making monsters out of them. And this shit...it's in the Hinterlands too. It's where my family is."
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"After what the Red Templars did to the villagers here, I don't have much pity left over for them myself. Whatever agony they've gone through, it'll never justify caging people and working them to death, exposing them to that shit. Knowing we couldn't free them on that scouting mission without Red Templars swarming us, that they'd have to wait until we were able to return...that was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I'll never forgive them for that."
But she takes a steadying breath, trying to answer his question even as she has little to share. "No one knows how it spread. Even Varric is baffled, and he was the one to first encounter it in the Deep Roads. What I do know is that after the explosion at the Conclave, the area where the temple once stood was covered in it. Massive, mystical spikes of 'fuck you' to everyone who tried keeping the peace...including those of my company."
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There have been jobs that have seen Asher technically renege on a contract, usually when something has been kept from him. And usually if there have been prisoners kept in dreadful conditions, people little better than slaves escaping instead of the prisoners. Even when the contracts are bad he's taken the money only to turn the people free and the idea of just leaving people--
Well he growls, low in the back of his throat, enough that the hound whines until Asher pets him roughly.
"Wait, your company?" And he leans forward clumsily, grabbing for her arm, glancing over at his team helpless with laughter in a corner, faces flushed from wine. "I'm sorry, Lady of the Skies I'm sorry Korrin."
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She sighs, shaking her head and glancing at Asher's people. For a moment, she's a bit envious. He has his people with him and all of them are alive and well. And here she is, the lone Valo-Kas.
"And we couldn't free them all because we were a small scouting crew with not nearly enough manpower to overcome the amount of Red Templars in the quarry. It would've been a suicide mission. We were able to free a few cages on the fringes, but the heart of it all...well, that's what we're heading back for."
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"One more reason to rip the bastard involved a new arsehole," he mutters darkly, with that look in his eye that promises hurt and blood, the one he's sported each and every time an insult or blow has been hurled at the people he regards as his.
There's something to be said for poor impulse control. Sometimes. "But you had to leave them there. They expected you to see that and just walk away? I couldn't have done that."
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"The rest of the Valo-Kas aren't anywhere close, not now. They were in Gwaren for a time, but are now on their way to the Anderfels. I told them they better not get tangled up in Grey Warden business over there thanks to all the weirdness with the Wardens lately, but who knows if they got my last letter before leaving."
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“The Anderfels is just weird, the end. We went up there a few times and I’m pretty sure even Amalia lost the will to do anything. You know, miss ‘I’ll set anything on fire, I’ll set myself on fire’? I hauled us out sharpish. Still, I’ll get the word spread, my mother needs other big loud people to shout at in my absence if they want meals and beds in exchange for doing some manual labour.”
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So she takes another sip, getting lazy with her drinking pace. "Do what you want in your own bed Asher, don't tell me what to do in mine. Go ahead and shag half of Skyhold; some of them definitely need it. But I'm wild enough without doing it your way. Having that woman's regard is worth any price; if I end up disgustingly saccharine, so be it." If Asher can't stomach that, well, it's all in good fun. He rags on her, she dishes it out in return, the cycle continues ever onward.
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Korrin speed up, you need to match Asher so it's more fair when they both have to stagger out at the end of the night. "I don't need a bed," and Korrin knows that because caves aren't beds, well not to most people but Asher can sleep anywhere that's vaguely horizontal and not entirely covered in hornets. "I'll shag everyone but the Templars, don't let it be said that I don't have some standards but we're mercenaries, steady doesn't actually figure into that life beyond how you hope the work comes in."
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"Well, there's more than enough work to go around right now and it's all leading back to here sooner or later. I'm content to live in the now; the future will take care of itself, if we even have one and Corypheus doesn't kill us all first. Cheerful thought, hm?"
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