faderift | [Open] I'm a diamond in the rough

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[Open] I'm a diamond in the rough

WHO: Vasran and You
WHAT: Getting herself established, relaxing in the springs
WHEN: Late Wintermarch
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: See Vasran's info post to get an idea of her, if you'd like to do so before tagging in

Courtyard

The robes she wears are not new -- those who know such things may recognize them as robes of a Ferelden Circle apprentice -- but they have been recently cleaned. One of the first things Vasran did upon her arrival was find the laundry. She is ready to be recognized as a mage again.

Now she only needs to know where to go. She has heard a few various things about the organization or lack thereof regarding both mages and templars in Skyhold. Perhaps with a little bit more prodding, she'll be able to hunt down the proper authority who can put her to use.

"Excuse me," she says, placing a couple of light fingers on the arm of a passer-by. "I was wondering if you could tell me something."

Hot Springs

There is one luxury Vasran has long gone without, having spent the better part of the last year in the wilderness: Bathing. Bathing that happens somewhere other than a freezing stream or lukewarm pond. Bathing in actually heated water.

The area still being rather public, she strips only as far as her smallclothes before sinking into the steaming spring. She immerses herself nearly up to her nose, leaving just enough room between her nostrils and the water's surface for her to breathe, and closes her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her skin. Her Circle robes lie folded in the changing area near the pool's edge.

Vasran sighs, contended, and only opens her eyes when she hears someone approaching, or feels the water's surface ripple.

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Vasran had wondered whether she was going to see anyone she knew at all once she'd arrived. It wasn't inevitable. Mages are all scattered to the winds now, and many who had once called Kinloch Hold home are dead.

That's why, despite the fact they were never the closest of friends in the Circle, when she spies Alfsigr, Vasran stops dead in her tracks and has to stop herself from drawing in a breath.

"Alfie?" The exclamation is a mixture of relief and at least two different kinds of surprise. Of all the people who could have survived, Vasran hadn't expected one of them to be her.

The passer-by is a tall, horned woman, recognizable as a mage only by the staff on her back. No robes for her, as she seems to prefer armor. Korrin is on her way to train, feeling restless and not wanting to become rusty though there's really no danger of that happening. Idleness doesn't suit her.

The voice gets her attention, though, and she pauses, glancing down and raising an eyebrow. Her tone is not unfriendly, just surprised to be singled out. Most people here are still getting used to her kind. "If I have the answer, I'll give it. What do you need?"

Edited 2016-01-21 19:42 (UTC)

Truth be told, it had taken a bit of working up her courage to address the qunari. Vasran had never encountered one before, and though she had only seen a few in the short time since her arrival, it was enough to feel that the place was crawling with them.

But they are part of the Inquisition, and so too, now, is she. More than that, this one is a mage. She will not allow herself to be cowed just because this particular mage happens to be tall. And... horned.

Anyway.

"Who do I see about getting assigned to the field?" She gives a brief, indicating glance down at her own robes. "I only arrived yesterday, with the caravan. It's hard to tell who exactly is in charge of the mages here."

Korrin's quick to smile as this is actually something she knows a fair bit about. "There isn't any one particular person in charge of the mages. We have a council overseeing matters both internal and external. I'm one of their Councillors, actually; Korrin Ataash, of the Valo-Kas company."

She nods, then tilts her head, curious. "What sort of skills do you have? Or affiliation, either might help pinpoint who you should seek." Granted, she don't pretend to understand much about Circle fraternities, but the basic knowledge has been absorbed a long time ago.

She gives a nod of greeting in return. "Vasran, formerly of the Ferelden Circle." She never got a chance to join a fraternity, but she considers the Ferelden Circle an affiliation in itself.

As for her skills. Vasran's shoulders square up a bit further: partly from pride, partly to look Korrin more fully in the face.

"I'm best with fire, lightning, mental attacks. Offensive magics have always been my strengths."

Ah, Ferelden. That probably means she knows Daylen but Korrin doesn't ask largely because she doesn't like him and he's gone elsewhere for the time being. At mention of offensive magics, she nods in approval. "As have mine. Lightning has always been my focus, and I'll sometimes help younger mages with that, though tutoring is spread around among the rest of us."

But that's getting a little off-track and she knows it. It's probably best not to bombard the girl with more information than needs. "As for getting assigned, that won't be difficult though it's done on an as-needed basis. That will come shortly, as there's pressing need for the Inquisition to reach Emprise du Lion. Once the higher-ups have gathered whatever intel or resources they require, you'll get your pick of assignments as we move out. Believe me, those offensive magics will see good use."

"Ah--yes?" Bruce pauses and turns towards whoever had stopped him, only giving a blink when he registers the sight of the elf before him. A new arrival? He doesn't think he's seen her before, but there's so many people in the Inquisition - she might have already been here for a while for all he knew.

New or not, though, she clearly was asking about something, and Bruce had no reason to not hear her out. "What is it?"

Seeker Malcolm has since sorted his horse and his things in a brusque, busy blur. Much to do, after all, and much to catch up on. So it's good to see the familiar face, even if it's only an extremely recent one. "Ah, you are looking well, Vasran," he greets with a ghost of a smile, shallow and fleeting but there all the same. "I see you're already making strides as far as identity. Better than the ragged-looking soul sneaking coin out of purses."

Seeing the Seeker again sets off an odd pang of familiarity and embarrassment. Vsaran was glad for his companionship on the road, not to mention the fact that he facilitated her connection with the Inquisition — but he also is one of the few to have known her at what was, so far, her lowest point.

At least now she has a chance to make up for that now.

"With respect, Ser. The girl you met in Redcliffe isn't someone I ever aspired to be."

"I should hope not," he says earnestly. "Few who end up on those paths have done so with the deliberate intention to do so."

Some would disagree. Some have viewpoints much stricter, narrower than his own. While still a choice in the end, all outcomes have circumstances that influence, and it's unwise to forget that. Maker forbid anyone tell that to the Templars, of course. "Have you found a niche to fill, hm? Or are you still feeling out your place in the Inquisition? There's much to take in."

Much to take in, but one can overlook the vast majority of it, if one is focused enough.

"I'm hoping whoever is in charge of the mages will have a place for me," she says, casting a look around the courtyard. "It already feels good, being able to be honest about what I am again."

It was easy to pick him out as someone to ask. He seemed approachable, with a kind face — one didn't see that sort of thing very much, these days.

"Which of these towers have the mages claimed?" She waves a hand over her shoulder, following it with her gaze, looking from one tower to the next. "I only just arrived last night. Still getting my bearings."

"Really?" There's a note of surprise in Vasran's tone, though it isn't unpleasant. "They let us decide where we want to go?"

Knowing that such is a new concept to a lot of Circle mages, Korrin just takes that in stride and nods. "Of course. We're free allies here, not conscripts or wards. It's been that way ever since Haven. I've traveled throughout Ferelden and Orlais on their behalf and of my own will. The Inquisition is about getting things done, not divisions. If you can contribute, that's really all they care about."

That... certainly wasn't a question you'd hear everyday. Bruce was unsurprisingly taken aback at first, but he got over his initial surprise quickly and then glanced around, pointing out to one of the towers that wasn't currently in ruins.

"That one, I believe." Not that it was a Circle in anyway, but many mages had taken there as a place to study and do... all their mage stuff. Bruce didn't part take in it himself, for obvious reasons. "You probably have to ask somebody else to be extra sure, though."

Allowed to choose where they go, how they help. It sounds... well, it sounds like what the rebellion claimed to actually want, rather than hiding within the walls of Redcliffe, getting hitched to the cart of a Tevinter magister.

It almost sounds too good to be true, but Vasran will remain open to the idea. At least for now.

"How about that," she says, taking another look around the courtyard as they reach the edge, seeing the surrounding passers-by with fresh eyes.

Her eyes made a flick over his decidedly-not-robes, and she gave a half-shrug, along with a half smile. Fair enough.

"Or I could just look out for the robes and silly hats."

There's more to it than that, of course, but Korrin is trying to refrain from getting into the detail of mage politics, or the tension with the Templars. The new person doesn't need all that heaped on her, though a slight narrowing of the Vashoth's eyes at a passing Templar might indicate her feelings nonetheless. She's never been one to keep those too far from the surface, even in the rare occasions when she tries.

"There are still tents and rooms enough to house people, though you'll likely have to share. If you want to unwind before the grand push to head out, we have the tavern just over to the left, though if you want something quieter we also have the hot springs. After that frigid path to Skyhold, a good soak can do a world of good."

"You may yet have your voice heard in the world." Imagine that. Mages don't get much voice outside of Circles, after all, and now there's a tentative council that might help decide the fate of mages the world over once the Inquisition has settled things. However long that might be. He has no delusions about how long that may yet be.

"Just don't go about harassing the Templars," he says in jest. Jest that he's serious about, but mages in general should (should) know better.

The words had Bruce pausing again out of surprise, but then said surprise quickly turned into one slight amusement, and Bruce couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Or that," he returned with a wry tilt to his smile. "That's certainly one way."

Vasran's smile grew into something brighter. Aww. He was cute. Kinda old, but cute.

"Bet that was the real reason for the rebellion." She was in no mood for a long, detailed discussion. She'd move along any second now — probably. But a little more small talk couldn't hurt. "There is no tyranny like unfashionable headwear."

At hot springs, Vasran decidedly perked up — her pointed ears actually lifted a little.

"By the Maker," she sighed. "You can bet I'll be finding those later. It's a damn chore trying to heat up a pond under your own power — nearly boiled myself alive."

Though she had discovered a new way of catching fish that day.

"But it's so much fun." Her tone is joking, pouting, though not as spirited as it might have been a couple of years earlier: back when she was a sheltered apprentice who liked to flirt with the Templars and make them blush. All in good humor.

There's less of that to be found, these days.

That response to mention of the hot springs gets a grin from Korrin. Very few people here don't relish having that place of warmth and relaxation, a haven of its own in the midst of snow, ice and tension surrounding them. She wouldn't trust anyone who doesn't know how to relax in some way; those who insist on remaining wound up end up snapping at some point.

"Oh, I understand. It'll do in a pinch if you've nothing else, but here you don't need to expend your power on that. It can be a lifesaver in terms of morale."

Admittedly it was nice to have a refreshing look on that whole situation, especially considering all the tension that was going around. Of course Bruce wasn't taking it lightly, and he was probably one of the last people to discuss about such things, but while she was on the subject...

"One would think they could at least try to manage something better, with all that they can do." Think better hats, or something. It shouldn't be too hard to manage.

"So how did you wind up with the Inquisition?" The path from the Circles is one Vasran is well-familiar with. It sounds as though Korrin's differs a great deal.

"Some of my mercenary company were working security at the Conclave. I was dealing with another assignment." Korrin crosses her arms, eyes darkening and lips thinning at the memory of that day. "When the temple exploded, I signed on. I wasn't going to let the asshole responsible be found and gutted without at least one of the company around to help make it happen. My kithmates deserve better than that."

"I see." Vasran's response is solemn. She wonders just how many of the paths to the Inquisition are strewn with blood. Hers certainly is.

"If only so many people didn't have to die to bring us together."

"Alas for all the blood that has been shed." Vasran was making light of it. Just a little. Maybe. But she'd had so much desperation and sorrow in the past couple of years, she'd started getting sick of it. She needed to be able to laugh about it every once in a while.

Still, she wasn't about to go overboard.

She nodded an introduction. "I'm Vasran, by the way."

The lack of platitudes in response in refreshing and Korrin, bracing herself for them, relaxes a little. She sighs, glancing around the courtyard. "Tell me about it. And then we lost the Herald, just as it seemed we were getting our footing. I think she would have liked this place, but I'll never know for sure."

"You knew the Herald." Of course she did. But there's a hint of wonder in Vasran's voice, acknowledging it out loud.

She lets out a harsh sigh, then. She could have been here so much sooner, if she hadn't been following her fellow mages around.

"The people I followed from the Circle were such fools." Speaking ill of the dead gnaws at her insides a little, but it would be worse not to speak at all. "We were never going to find freedom in the wilderness. Only a new kind of hardship."

"It's no life of ease here, but it's far better than pledging oneself to Tevinter or tearing the countryside apart, that's for sure. Not that I was involved in any of that, but I've seen where desperation leads. And yes, I knew her. Not well, but Haven was a very small place compared to this. It was impossible not to know everyone there eventually."

Korrin's smile is a touch melancholy. "I know that she sincerely wanted to help. Haven rarely saw her, since she was out on the field so much. It wasn't an empty title, not for her."

On one hand Bruce could see why anybody wouldn't want to dwell on the subject for long, but on the other... well. It would be a lie if Bruce was comfortable making light of the matter in any way. The way she did wasn't so bad at all, but still--

He manages not to show anything beyond a wry curl of the corner of his lips. "Bruce," he returns lightly instead, focusing on the introductions and the exchange of pleasantries. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

New people arrive in Skyhold all the time, and Alfsigr recognizes nary a one. That's often a blessing of sorts. She's uncomfortable around the rebels, and nervous around Templars, among all others she's often shy, preferring to hang back and observe before jumping into the fray of conversation. Today is no different; she's picked a place against the wall to sit and read a book, glancing up with decreasing frequency. It isn't until her name is exclaimed that she finally looks up, eyes scanning for the familiar face to match the voice.

The book falls from Alfsigr's fingers, the chair she was seated in skitters loudly across the floor, shoved a foot behind her from the speed with which she gets to her feet. "Vasran!" All other thoughts are discarded as she dashes forward with complete abandon, arms outstretched with the intention of embracing the other mage. "You're alive!"

"Now now. Wouldn't want to cause a commotion. There's already so much of it in Skyhold." They both know it's much more than that, but a joke is a joke with no harm done. "I would hate to have to be summoned to break up a spat like that."

Vasran won't refuse the embrace. The shock is still hitting her, and the feel of arms wrapping around her shoulders gives her something solid to cling to. She returns it, too, folding her arms tightly around Alfsigr, just to check that she's really real.

"Blessed Andraste," she breathes. "Somebody else made it."

"I thought--" Breathless, her throat tight around emotion that threatens tears, Alfsigr stops herself. She had thought Vasran was killed with the rebels she'd sought shelter with. The relief in this moment is almost overwhelming.

"It's good to see you."

Vasran feels tears pricking at the back of her own eyes and hugs Alfsigr tighter, buries her face against the other woman's shoulder in hopes of stopping them. Don't think about the sound of swords being drawn, or the cold, blue silence slammed down by a Templar's will...

She sighs hard, forcing herself back into the moment.

"Have you seen—" She won't let go, not until she's sure she can remain composed. "Is there anyone else?"

Alfsigr shakes her head slowly. "There have not been many." Ever prone to optimism, however, she summons a smile that she wishes she felt a little more sincerely. "This place is a beacon, though. I'm sure more will find their way here in time. It's safe here."

Relatively speaking, at least. Safer than staggering through the Hinterlands, cold and alone with the Red Templars on the hunt. She takes Vasran's hands in her own and holds them tightly. "We're both safe now."

Vasran lets out a short, bitter laugh - which, at least, is enough to shut down the tears altogether.

"Safer for now, at least." She sniffs, and squeezes back against Alfie's hands. "Walked right into another war."

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[Open] I'm a diamond in the rough

[Closed] Alfsigr

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Courtyard!

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