I've got my kit bag, my heavy boots

[hlif]

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.

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.

Comments

[judgemewhole]

"Oh, trust me sir, we're always careful with liquor." Anamaria called over her shoulder, hefting one barrel over her shoulder carefully, "Otherwise, we don't get to drink it."

James himself started lifting out food from the back of the wagon, handing it off one at a time to his people. He glanced over at Asher, before offering his hand, "James Norrington - Formerly of the Templar Order, now of the New Templars of the Inquisition."

It was a ... working name.

[hlif]

From somewhere deep in Asher's chest, there's a low groan that turns into a curse. Templars. Fucking Templars. Touching his stuff. He knew there would be Templars, Nasir had scouted ahead for the crew as always though getting estimates had been difficult when the mages stood out more and he'd been under strict instruction to lie low until the rest of them caught up and made plans. None of that means he has to be pleased about it, not in the least, and there's no Melisende or Liadan to get him to keep his mouth shut.

"New Templars of the Inquisition," he repeats, and though his expression remains calm, there's something like mockery in it. "So does the Chantry still have a broom up your arse, or are you doing that yourselves these days?"

The hand remains ignored - his manners, few that they are, aren't for Templars.

[judgemewhole]

Oh ... Maker, here we go. Well James wasn't going to keep his hand out like an idiot. The man clearly didn't like Templars, but that didn't mean these supplies should suffer the man's ire. His tone is wry as he answered, arms folding behind him, "Currently the Inquisition is the one we can thank for giving us a broom to put up our asses - as they have taken us all in."

He gave the man a level look. "They've accepted us our help, and in turn, we've pledged our loyalty. If you are looking to join, they shall ask you to do the same, ser."

There. Norrington gave him his only warning. He was going to have to work with the Templars, whether he liked it or not, if he stayed here.

[hlif]

"Pretty sure that's just a sign of how desperate they are then." Not that it's his place to ask about the lyrium supplies and what happens if and when someone decides to cut them off entirely or someone goes on a bender with the stuff but it's not not his place to wonder about it. Asher hasn't spent over a decade as mercenary without knowing how to watch out for his own back.

As for him? Well, loyalty is one word for it. Never let it be said Asher Hardie goes back on his word, if the terms suit.

"You know it's a bad sign that when one of my mates tells me about what the Templars have been up to before they've even bought me a drink. I'm not here to paint myself up like a big hero; I've got a blade, a good company, a stellar record in getting jobs done and satisfied customers at my back. So long as this doesn't jeopardise that? I'm golden." The longer the Inquisition goes without the Chantry directly meddling, the happier Asher will be.

[judgemewhole]

"You know, I was about to say the same about you." James murmured, as he folded his hands behind his back. He wasn't going to ask about lyrium either - because if he thought about it all of his skin itched and his mind froze in a blind terror he didn't want to think about.

That, however, catches his interest. He arches an eyebrow at that, his face questioning.

"...All right, I'll bite. What have we been up to now?" Because he frankly has no idea -- but it sounds like he is about to go another three or four rounds on The Templar Order is not what you think. He can change, they can all change. Pride would have had him say that now, except he had no idea what he was defending them against now.

[hlif]

"I know what I am mate, I know that better than anyone else ever will." Twelve years as a mercenary and you do know yourself, maybe better than you'd care to but that's the way of it. People hire Asher when they don't have other options because that's how being a mercenary works; the job is bloody and a dirty, murky business. All the more reason for Asher to sign up here where he won't be wringing his hands like some will.

"Something about someone being put to work for spying on you lot. Funny how little you seem to like it but the Chantry teaches you that special brand of Chantry hypocrisy that it does everyone else." Asher couldn't really give two shits about the mage-templar conflict so long as it doesn't hurt him and his but the Chantry is a whole other matter.