heaven, a gateway, a hope

[byblow]

WHO: Grey Wardens & You
WHAT: A daring and not at all ragtag group of Grey Wardens has walked all the way across Orlais to inform the Inquisition--just in case it hadn't already realized on its own--that everything is terrible.
WHEN: Harvestmere 22
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: This post has: (1) A single group "we just got here, we're freezing, who is in charge, what do you mean you haven't decided yet" starter that we'd like to keep to one chronological thread. (2) Open starters for individual Wardens set later in the day/week.

OOC Note: Regarding the first starter--threadjack away! Anyone is welcome to wander onto the scene to see what's going on and wander back out at their leisure, to fall silent for a while, etc. No tagging order. But let slower taggers get a word in edgewise!

Comments

[byblow]

"That's less exciting than being licked clean by moonlight while flowers bloom under your feet," Alistair says, "but more believable. I guess."

He doesn't have a lot of room to speculate about other people's feet, with how many days in a row he's been wearing these socks, but what Ellana doesn't know can't gross her out.

"Well," he says, "you have to train them. Raise them right. All of that. But after that you can just point them and go, yes." He sits back in his chair. "The Dalish clan I visited before—they told us something about halla. There was a sick one that my—" The pause is barely there, but it is there. "—friend convinced the keeper to kill so it wouldn't suffer, or something. But that was a long time ago."

[serannas]

"I sincerely hope you aren't speaking for all humans and what they think of us when you say that." She pauses, eyes lowering in thought. "Do I even want to know who is doing the licking in this scenario of yours?" Probably not.

Her head tilts at the way Alistair practically stumbles over the word 'friend.' That's what a person says when they either don't want to admit they're friends with an unsavory sort, or they aren't really friends, but have no other word for them.

"Such a sad thing. It's too bad nothing could be done for it except that." Ellana loves the halla. They're such sweet creatures, but in the old tales they carried elven warriors into battle. There is more to them than meets the eye.

"What did the clan make of you being there? I doubt they were terribly friendly."

[byblow]

"The moonlight itself. Magically," he says, tone flat, like it should be obvious.

He isn't speaking for all humans--he's not even genuinely speaking for himself--but there's probably someone who believes it, or much worse. But between the two of them, Alistair is pretty sure he's the only one who's ever drunk blood.

"Oh, they weren't so bad," he says. "Not worse than I'd expect from anyone else. They were already having problems of their own, and Grey Wardens never bring good news." Just darkspawn, conscription, secrets, and demands. Alistair takes a drink, but when he lowers it he's smiling again. "Have the people here been kind to you? Or has it all been inappropriate questions about your feet?"

[serannas]

"Maybe not good news, but they keep the world from being overrun with the Blight," she points out as he's drinking. Ellana vaguely remembers the plague that went through the clan when she was young, and how it took so many from them. Now she tries to picture if that was the Blight instead. It's likely none of them would have survived that. And there would have been no one left to wish for the Wardens to come and save them.

"How would you feel knowing you're the only one to question the state of my feet?" She raises an eyebrow in question, but then in a more serious voice adds, "No one has been unkind to me yet. I'm sure it will happen at some point, but I'm thankful to have been spared it so far."