OPEN: Like the High Tide Takes the Sand.

[keeperofmagi]

WHO: Nerva and OPEN
WHAT: After swearing an oath to Cassandra, Nerva has foresaken her title as Templar, and sworn to serve the Inquisition only.
WHEN: Over the next couple weeks so that whoever is wherever can still come bother her.
WHERE: Either Emprise, directly after her oath, or in Skyhold after they return
NOTES:The Oath, also warning for Nerva and her Opinions....

There is something uncharacteristically quiet about Nerva, these days. A solemn silence where the passion should be, a held tongue instead of the lash. After returning from Nevarra, after trudging through the snow of the Emprise, she retreated further and further into herself.

That didn't mean the passion was gone. Rather it was turned inward - almost self-flagellating in its intensity, ripping through everything she believed, and the things she thought she believed, until her soul was left at it's most raw, most pure state.

She needed a purpose. She needed a path.

And so she made one.

Any doubts she had, she did not voice. Any doubts she had, were gone, after she made her oath.

She did not have room in her heart for doubt. She did not have room in her heart for the wretchedness that had been there, for months. No. She only had room for commitment, for the cause. And if she could not fully live one, she would live the other.

If she could no longer be Templar in word and deed, then she would be no Templar at all.

She would turn herself into a sword for the Right Hand.

Over the next few weeks, her downtime was used to carefully and painstakingly remove all symbols of the Templar Order from her armour, her clothing, her weapons. Everything she had owned, had come from the templars, and she had no funds with which to simply replace them, so she worked. Mostly on her own, removed from others. She had no desire to make a big display. Her faith - her purpose - was her own, no one else's. There would be no announcement.

Just the careful and purposeful continuation of Duty.

Comments

Skyhold / Undercroft / Late Guardian-ish?

[lifeofendurance]

If there is anyone present in Skyhold who could possibly understand the need for purpose and a path, it's the somber silent man in Seeker's armor attending to weapon sharpening. Ever since Seeker van Reeves announced the annulment of the Nevarran Accord, Aleron has been at a loss. Naturally at first he discounted the news as a blantant falsehood. The more he's learned, the more aghast he is at everyone abandoning their vows and obligations. It's left him painfully adrift to know where he is now meant to serve.

He believes it to be with the Inquisition. At least now. It's taken a few days of questioning and intense attention to his devotions to reach this conclusion. A cynical person could accuse him of deciding it thus out of his craving to have a straight path laid out before him where his duty lies. They would not be entirely incorrect. But conviction fuels him and so he is committed to the cause.

As Harritt grumbles while working away the nicks from his longsword, Aleron looks over to find a woman addressing her own armor by herself. The hallmarks of the Sword of Mercy are still present on some of the gear, which is not a wonder. What troubles him is the effort which she is giving to removing it. Perhaps she has been expelled from the Order, but unwilling to part with good armor. Or perhaps she's as lost as everyone else. Do the Templars even exist anymore? Do the Seekers?

It's such an unusual thing for anyone to be doing, he has to address it. "You're altering your armor, Ser...?"

[keeperofmagi]

She looks up at the voice, ready to snap an irritated 'yes' at the interuption, but stops when she realises she doesn't recognize the face.

But she does recognize the symbol emblazoned on his chest.

She stands up too quickly, the piece of armour she had been working on going clattering to the floor, and with a slightly mortified look she picks it up again, before standing at attention.

"Seeker, my apologies, I did not realise you were-- here." It's lame because she didn't really know he existed at all - thought that Cassandra was here alone. But if he's here, and a Seeker, then he's probably working directly for Cassandra.

"I-- Yes. I will not have my loyalty parted. I am here for the Inquisition, and I have sworn myself to Seeker Pentaghast's service, and I would have my armour reflect that."

[lifeofendurance]

Aleron doesn't wince when the armor hits the ground, though it's certainly sharp on his ears. Nor is he particularly surprised when his presence startles a Templar. Ex-Templar? He's rather accustomed to it as matter of course and remains as stoic as ever. But, he is rather concerned he might have inadvertently caused some damage to the piece that was dropped. As he listens, he holds out a hand for that particular piece so he can examine it for himself, without breaking eye-contact.

What he hears is... oddly reassuring. And familiar.

"I apologize for taking you by surprise. Please, be at ease." He's aware that might be asking the impossible. Most Templars are made uneasy by his presence. Though there is some question if they should anymore. It seems if no one answers to anyone any longer, which is not right. "It's good to swear yourself fully to your duty. Especially when so many have cast off their loyalties for less than righteous reasons."

[keeperofmagi]

The shame that fills her manages to bring a heat up under her collar, as she mutely obeys - giving over the piece of armour. She is not used to being startled, and to be so jumpy around a Seeker -

Maker, strike her down now.

But she manages - somehow - to keep that from her face, despite the slightly red tinge to her throat as she clears it. "Not at all, Ser, the apologies are mine." She doesn't even know what she's apologizing for, really, but she says it anyway, and still stands mostly at attention, despite his protest. She can't help but feel like she's getting a performance review, and that it is likely to go poorly.

"I-- Yes. Thank you. It is not... easy, but I thank you for your understanding. Ser."

[lifeofendurance]

"Darton," he supplies. "Seeker Aleron Darton." The affiliation is clear enough from his armor, but that's a matter of polite formality. And Aleron is always polite and formal, because he knows no other way to be. It's earned him a reputation of being a dull, serious stick-in-the-mud in some circles, and as a dedicated and earnest man in others. Depending on the person's personal perspective and temperament. Neither assessment is incorrect.

He runs his eyes over the armor piece, giving it his complete attention. As he suspected. There is a dent there from being dropped that would be his responsibility. Holding up a hand, a silent request for Nerva to wait a moment, he turns to Harritt and hands over her gear. "Please see to the work the lady requires to have her armor fully to her satisfaction. Tell me the cost when the work is completed." Harritt stares at him, then her, then him, huffs and grumbles about more work and turns away.

As if he had not taken full charge on the matter, Aleron returns to Nerva and asks pleasantly enough, "Which Circle had you been assigned to?"