[open] how sweet is the day, I'm craving a darkness

[doneisdone]

WHO: Teren von Skraedder and you! Especially other Wardens!
WHAT: Faffing about Skyhold (and meeting up with Benny)
WHEN: late Guardian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: come meet your new mom



The Herald's Rest

As she orients herself to Skyhold, Teren spends a lot of her downtime in the Herald's Rest, having a drink and a meal or just sitting quietly and listening to the music and talk of the keep. She's a dour creature, but wears her warden blues to indicate her position and is open enough to friendly (or unfriendly) conversation.

Wherever

She can be anywhere you need her. Bonus if your character is doing something stupid that she can grump at them about.

[Closed to Benevenuta]

At an hour many would consider indecent, Teren knocks against the door she knows to belong to the resident Thevenet. In one spindly hand is concealed a tiny missive, dictating her purpose for being here.

Comments

Wherever

[sunshinethroughgrey]

As a mage, Bethany has to take the time to do her research. As it stood she was taking the time to do it on spirit magic. However, she had spread herself around with her old friends and new friends, so she often was on the run. Not to mention preparing for the Western Approach, keeping up with whatever they could find on Wardens ...

She'd admit it. Sometimes she forgot to eat.

That is why she was reading a book on spirit magic and eating an apple at the same time.

[doneisdone]

Teren is perusing the library herself, sifting through the various titles, taking stock of what manner of important documents are here for public consumption. When she spots the girl reading, she eyes her for a moment, then takes care to move quietly around her. She frowns a little at the sight of the apple, but lets it be for now. Surely the woman can eat without getting any juice on an expensive tome.

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany takes another bite of her apple, careful to keep her sticky fingers off of the page, then frowning down at another spell. She put down the apple carefully, reaching down into a satchel by herself for her notebook, and her ink and quill. She closed the flap, showing off a stylized griffon in flight, a perfect replica of the Grey Warden emblem.

After a moment, though, she glances sideways to look at the woman ... skulking around. New ... archivist? Seemed to be quite a few of them about.

[doneisdone]

Feeling Bethany's eyes on her, Teren waits a few moments, then turns to glance back. It's then that she notices the emblem, and a small smirk crosses her lips.
"A Grey Warden?" she asks, keeping her voice low for the sake of others present.

[sunshinethroughgrey]

Bethany looks up at that, before putting on a pleasant, warm smile. "That is right, madam. I am Warden Bethany Hawke. What might I do for you today?"

She'd learned early on that the nicer she was, either she threw off the detractors or befriended the slightly trepidious.

closed.

[ungovernable]

Teren doesn't have long to wait; Benevenuta opens the door to her modest room (far more modest than lodgings she's accustomed to, but well-kept even without a dedicated maidservant, and comfortable enough all things considered) with a promptness and a hint of surprise that is intended only for anyone who might be passing. No one is, that she sees - you can never be too careful.

"Warden," she says, politely, opening the door wider and stepping aside, knotting the light robe she wears at the waist and pushing her loosened hair to one side. "Please; my time is yours."

She has been expecting her.

[doneisdone]

Teren bends at the waist in a respectful bow, then accepts the invitation, stepping forward into the woman's room. She waits until the door is closed before she extends her hand, offering the missive to Benevenuta.
"From your mother," she quietly explains, her expression stony as ever.

[ungovernable]

One hand still holding the edge of her robe, Benevenuta takes the slip of paper and scans it briefly, businesslike - in the easy transition from her warm pleasantries at the door to the brisk way she considers the message in her hand, she is so much her mother's daughter. (And it is so much the Thevenets that there is nothing personal enough to warrant anything else, in a letter from mother to daughter; it isn't that sentiment has no place in their relationship, only that it has a specific place.)

"I see her point," she says, folding it again and consigning it a moment later to the fire burning low in the grate. "It is a pleasure to properly meet you. She speaks highly of you, still."

[doneisdone]

"And you as well, my lady," Teren levelly replies, inclining her head in a second show of respect. "I ask now that you catch me up on any news you feel merits my attention."

[ungovernable]

With limited options in terms of seating, Benevenuta leaves the one chair - by a small desk - for Teren to take if she so chooses, sinking down instead on the edge of her bed as she considers not whether there's anything that merits attention but, indeed, where to begin. A glossy-coated spaniel bitch sleeps by the fireside, stirring only a little at the entrance of this new stranger; Husband is many things, but a guard mabari she is not.

"We are in a tenuous sort of a ceasefire," she says, finally, "mages and these former Templars." She doesn't even consider characterizing them so pointed; she imagines the Chantry would agree with her assessment, all things now considered. "Mother informed you of my position on the Council. It is..."

A gesture. Complicated. The authority they have is what they are permitted by not only the Inquisition but indeed other mages; they must justify their existence, constantly.

"A rift was opened in Skyhold, recently, by one of the shardbearers. A Dalish mage." A little dryly, "It failed to simplify matters."

wherever!

[bunko]

In an open square, seated on a set of steps that lead up to the battlements, Skyhold's latest and greatest hero, Scipio the Marvel, is very carefully tearing pages out of a book.

In general, Scipio is happy. Skyhold is not Antiva City, and being a Warden is a drastically different career than the one that he has known. And Scipio is a complainer, but his complaints can be assuaged if he finds something to hold his interest. His involvement with the Wardens has been as distant as he could manage up until the more recent months, where he found himself participating.

Participation: what a dirty word! But it has not been so bad, no matter what Rafa says, or what he says to Rafa to cover up the fact that he's enjoyed the tasks he's been set. Yes, of course it helps, to have magic boots, to keep him warm; yes, of course it helps, that his tasks so far have been alternatively easy and heroic. A lover of tales and a lover of ballads, Scipio has found that he liked his chances to play hero. A genuine hero, not just wearing a hero's disguise.

Tearing pages out of a book is not quite so heroic, but it is necessary. He words with nimble fingers and a small pen-knife, his gloves tucked into his belt and his lute strapped firmly to his back. He hums a jaunty tune as he works, without any accompaniment besides the shrrrf of tearing paper. And, when he has mined all the pages he wants to mine, he throws the slim-and-now-slimmer volume over his shoulder, into the empty yard--

--Which is not so empty. But he's focused on his task and not to blame, should that book hit someone.

Hello, someone.

[doneisdone]

A bark-like curse breaks the relative silence of the courtyard when Teren, unluckily walking below the battlements, takes the corner of a book's spine to the head.
She has to take a moment to recover, rubbing the smarting spot as she bends to pick up the book and finds that many of the pages are missing; this is surely the work of a careless idiot child, and she won't stand for it.

Gripping the book in her talon-like fingers, she storms around to face the steps and finds, to her disgust, that it is in fact a grown man sitting there.
"What in the name of Maferath are you doing?!" she demands.

[bunko]

Mildly, Scipio looks up from his work. This fresh book is full of pages to be extracted, and the pen-knife, in his hand, is poised for the next careful slice. On the steps beside him, there is a stack of pages resting on a cloth, waiting to be bound up and carried off.

"Work!" he answers, cheerfully. "We are in a great need of paper. This, I have heard."

She looks unhappy, he realizes a moment later. He hasn't yet realized the significance of her choice of color, though beneath the swathes of his own two heavy cloaks, he is wearing the same shade of blue. No: first, what Scipio notices is her unhappy face. Perhaps she is cold? No, but second he notices that she's clutching the book that he just emptied.

He blinks, surprised to see this book returned so soon. "Where did you get that?"

[doneisdone]

Teren's eyes narrow in fury. "You threw it at me!" she spits, waving it at him and then stepping closer, ascending a few stairs to get a closer look at the paper. "This isn't-- you can't expect people to write on this, you fool--" When the full reality of the situation dawns on her, she claps a hand over her face and steadies herself. "Maker," she breathes, collects herself, and looks at the man again.
"Stop that at once."

[bunko]

"Oh." That does make sense. It had been a wide throw; it stands to reason that it would have caught someone in the process. "Your pardon, then! I had not meant for it to strike you. And it is not to replace the parchment, you see--"

Deftly, he tucks the knife away at his belt and takes up a piece of page off of the stack, and holds it out so she can see it.

"You see, it is for notes. These are the blank pages, or the nearly blank, the ones that are not used. If we are careful, they can be re-used."

The Herald's Rest

[unbrokenoath]

Kaisa knew all of the Wardens in Skyhold and their voices, save one. So when a new woman in Warden armor appeared in the tavern shortly after a new voice appeared on their very secret Warden Discussion, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. So she grabs a mug of beer and with little grace plops down in the chair next to Teren, grinning cheerfully at her.

The face is only vaguely familiar, but Bethany had used her name, and Kaisa manages to pillage her memories to produce some kind of name. "Senior Warden von Skraedder?" She hazards, tripping over the name, a Ferelden tongue trying to battle with a different language. Despite the fact that she had probably left a less than stellar impression on the older Warden, her smile directed at the other woman is both genuine and shameless.

"It's a pleasure t' meet you. In, you know." She waves her hand around vaguely. "Person."

[doneisdone]

Teren is surprised, and perhaps a little annoyed, when she receives uninvited company-- but as soon as Kaisa speaks, Teren recognizes her voice.
"Aye, that's me," she answers, and extends a hand to presumably clasp with Kaisa's. "The pleasure is mine." Although she offers a wry smile, there is still a gruffness to her, a piercing quality to her gaze. "And you're the comedian, aren't you?"

[unbrokenoath]

Kaisa will take that hand and clasp it firmly, grinning shamelessly at Teren's (accurate) assessment of her identity. "That's me. That's how I became a Warden. I used to be the greatest comedian in all of Ferelden, and then I made a joke about a tusket when there was an Orlesian noble in the audience. How was I supposed to know they were related?" Her grin only grew, snickering at her own joke. "I was to be put to death. Joining the Wardens was the only way to save my life and my incredible humor."

[doneisdone]

Teren snorts, deciding she doesn't care if the story is true or false; it works well enough either way. "I suppose there are worse reasons," she decides, pulling her hand away to clasp her mug again. "There are a fair few Wardens here, I see, all of whom seem wary of Clarel. Is there a plan of action?"

[unbrokenoath]

"Yeah, most of the people here answered Clarel's summons and then got kinda pissed off when she started talking blood magic. We made a knitting group to talk disapprovingly, and Clarel took it badly. So we started taking off. It seems like most of us have managed to get here, though." Worryingly, not all of them, but that was another problem. "I had just entered Orlais to see what was up with the Orlesian Wardens when the archdemon started whistling Dixie. Good times."

She drummed her fingers on the table thoughtfully at the question. "Right now, the plan of action seems to be waiting for the Inquisition to decide it can spare the resources to help. There's...something going on in Griffin Wing Keep. We're trying to get there first. There were some disturbing news. Wardens burning corpses. Lots of corpses." Her scowl deepens. "So I guess, right now, we're just sittin' on our asses and making up songs to match the Calling."

I'm late I know. Ignore if it's too late

[foodsofmypeople]

Kaidan was sometimes found in the Herald's Rest, on the quieter nights, when the noise of it wasn't quite so bothersome, though he was often to be found in the corner, sitting quietly watching the surroundings.

Spotting someone he didn't recognise in Warden blues was enough to get his attention, and he called out to her. "Warden! Care to join me?" It should be obvious he was a Warden as well.

it's never too late

[doneisdone]

His wave catches Teren's eye, and she smirks wryly before picking up her work and her mug and going to join the man at his table. "Fellow Warden?" she inquires, situating herself in the adjacent corner.

=)

[foodsofmypeople]

"How can you tell?" Kaidan quipped, giving her a small smile. "I know. It was the blue in the armor, wasn't it? You can tell me. I haven't seen you around Skyhold before." Meaning - who are you, and where have you come from?

"I'm Senior Warden Kaidan Alenko."

Re: =)

[doneisdone]

"Yes, I know the armor when I see it. One would hope." She smirked, meeting his smile. "Warden Alenko," she greeted, extending her hand to clasp his forearm in the warrior's greeting. "Senior Warden Teren von Skraedder. I hail from Orlais, and have only just arrived."

[foodsofmypeople]

"You would be surprised," he said in a low voice, and shook his head a little. He clasped her arm in return. "You have had a long journey then. What brings you to Skyhold?"