it's been a long road

[tactical_alert]

WHO: Seeker Malcolm (not Captain Malcolm, mind), PEOPLE IN SKYHOLD, Cassandra
WHAT: Yet another arrival, gee, they just keep coming don't they
WHEN: *waggles hand* Late Wintermarch-y
WHERE: Here. There. Look, over there!
NOTES: Nothing yet

Arrival
He rides in with a small caravan of people. His armour bears a symbol that, while probably familiar to everyone here by now, is not seen on many people these days in these parts. His horse's stride is calm and careful, trying to stay out of the way and taking his time looking around. Less like a bemused tourist and more like someone with an eye for finding weaknesses, exits, entrances. He'll have to do a thorough walkaround for integrity, but the area at least is very defensible and secure.

Malcolm gets direction to the stables and sets up his horse there, giving him a nice brushing off of the snow. The next place he heads is to whatever kennel this area might have, if any at all. His dog, a long-legged, apricot-coloured, no-frills poodle, is far from the hyperintelligent mabari he was accustomed to in his youth, but his faithful canine companion needs a place to stay as well. Though if he has to keep her with him, he has few qualms about that.

The Seeker seems very...well, Cassandra-esque. He is stern and steady and goes about his initial business quickly but with care. He might not stop to chat--it is, in fact, not generally in his nature to do so generally--but he might ask for locations.

Battlements
Seeker Malcolm makes an effort within the first few days to stride around all of Skyhold with a keen eye. The location is impeccable, with only one way to really fight through, but it could also make it easy for them to get pinned down. And more than that, he must check for himself the stability of the area, the integrity of the walls, and to be honest, it needs work. It all needs work, even the roads around the mountain pass. He's seen holes in walls and roofs! In the middle of Wintermarch in the mountains!

Up here, despite some foot traffic, it's also quieter than down in the bustle, especially after he's ducked about inside for many of the same reasons. It helps him collect his thoughts, especially now that he's no longer on the road as he has been. But he's taking notes as he goes.

Training Grounds
Also much like Cassandra, he can be found keeping his fighting skills sharp. He doesn't whack a dummy with a greatsword, but instead shows off agility, dodging, quick but precise strikes with a short sword. It is no less intense. His arrows, too, fly true. If it's even possible to sneak up on him, one would be unwise to do so. He's also up for sparring or can be found working out. Shirtless. Sweaty.

Courtyard
There is also a dog. Was the dog mentioned? There's a dog that needs training and attention and training-disguised-as-play as much as any other dog, mabari included. While Malcolm could be doing any number of things in the area, whether gathering a feel of the troops and those that support the Inquisition, mentally rearranging the area for a more efficient layout, or finding a pleasant and out of the way area to care for his weaponry, his dog likes to be nearby. He throws sticks sometimes. It's very important work, you see. At times, he plays scent games, hiding an object and allowing her to find it, although she is much less a scent-based dog. She's also efficient. Patient. Calm.

Really. Honestly. She does not at all turn into an excited lovebug in the presence of someone willing to shower her with positive attention. Absolutely not.

Wildcard
Catch him in the great hall? Found him nabbing something from the kitchen? Listening to gossip in the tavern? In the rookery reading Bad News? Convenient location to pick a bone with him? Specifically want A Thing?

Comments

[aceso]

"Oh, no, you never want to do that," she says lightly, smoothing her fingertips down the dog's head. "But I am Orlesian and am required to say such things." She says them to Sam all the time. It hardly matters to her that he lived in the Ostwick Circle. He grew up for a time in Ferelden and so he is one of them.

[tactical_alert]

"Perhaps now we're less Fereldan or Orlesian and more...hm, Frostbackan? Skyholdian? Skyholder?" He shakes his head lightly at himself while Milady's tail swings a mile a minute, body wiggling under the touch. "We are now less our respective countries and more a singular, new entity for the protection of all of Thedas," he concludes.

[aceso]

"We are the Inquisition," she says, by way of agreement. "But it is amusing to poke fun at one another for where we are from, as long as it is not meant maliciously." And some people will never stop being prideful of where they come from. The Inquisition cannot change that.

[tactical_alert]

"I've been to many countries and can even adopt an Orlesian accent if the need calls for it." Usually doesn't, unless he's giving an order in the language specifically or is for some reason trying to pass himself off as high class. "But alas, you'll never break the Ferelden pride out of me. No hard feelings." Some still haven't forgiven Orlais even after all this time. Grudges can be as annoying as xenophobia.

[aceso]

"Ah, but is it an accent you use among Orlesians, or do you only use it among others who would not be able to tell its quality?" Her people love jumping on any bit of scandal they can, ad would probably delight in taking down an impostor.

[tactical_alert]

He's actually quite talented at voices and accents. Some odd innate gift, though he won't advertise it. Still...a demonstration will hurt no one.

Malcolm stands at ease and addresses the dog. "Milady!" Her head lolls in his direction, paying attention though not relinquishing the pettings. "S'il vous plaît donner la dame sa main. Elle a plus à voir aujourd'hui que vous caresser."

Milady only looks mildly interested. He adds hand gestures, smiling a little at his own antics. "Venez ici. Asseyez-vous bien." To which Milady reluctantly springs to action, trotting to his side and sitting in a way that suggests she's at attention.

He maintains the Orlesian accent, though he switches back to the common tongue. "I leave it to the lady to suggest the quality of the accent, though I would hesitate to play pretend among the nobles."

[aceso]

Christine raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting in an amused manner. She listens to his Orlesian and has to admit that it's good. He pronounces everything correctly. And speaking the common tongue, he sounds as much an Orlesian as herself.

"No, indeed. Especially not the ones who have summer and winter homes. Those nobles who travel throughout the country probably recognize regional dialects far easier than a mage who has spent most of her life in a Circle Tower."

[tactical_alert]

He clears his throat of the accent. "Those nobles tend not to be anyone I've any reason to interact with. At times it's best to work with those of some power in order to find individuals of interest or be granted passage through somewhere, or other reasons, but if it can be helped? Then I prefer to keep to myself than try to act a part."

But sometimes one must try to blend in somewhere. On the down low. And not scream Seeker from head to toe.

[aceso]

"I prefer not to act a part either," she admits. The game is not something she wants involved in, and she'd rather keep to herself than play.

"How are you finding the Inquisition so far? Hopefully you find you can be yourself here."