OPEN: The Loyal Shield

[lifeofendurance]

WHO: Aleron and YOU
WHAT: General Catch All while the Seeker settles in
WHEN: Guardian 24-Drakonis 14
WHERE: Skyhold (varies)
NOTES: Prose or brackets fine. Can also use for any scenes wanted.

It barely takes any time since his arrival for Aleron to resume what has been his daily habits for years now. Being relocated inside the Inquisition fortress has made little difference, beyond a change of scenery. He knows of no other way than the one he's followed most his life. With everything outside the walls in sheer chaos, finding order within his personal habits provides a rock solid foundation to face those challenges.

Chapel
Every morning and evening, before he breaks his fast, before he commits himself to rest, Aleron can be found inside the Chapel, knelt in prayer. He is as earnest in his devotions as he is with the remainder of his life and spends no less than an hour each time praying through sections of the Chant of Light. It is familiar. It is the base of his faith. It is his faith that holds him up, and to neglect it would be unjust in his mind.

Courtyard
During the day, Aleron commits himself to practice and training his weapon skills, though he prefers light leathers to full armor for the exercise. A particularly sharp eye or veteran combatant will note something unusual. He executes moves with precision, clearly well studied, with years of practice. However, he does not excel with the sword, not like a true master or exceptional talent would. Still, every day, he is present in the yard, working on his form, his stance, his skills.

Stables
Most days, he finds his way to the stables, to check after the welfare of his horse he rode into Skyhold. Valiente is a lively mount, but not too aggressive, nor does he seem to mind being quartered with so many others. Weather permitting, Aleron saddles him for a short ride through the mountain passes, enough to keep the horse hale and hearty, but never so much as to risk his health or a broken limb on treacherous footing.

Library
Every afternoon, the Seeker abandons physical pursuits for academic ones. Anyone who's made note of his somber default expression will find him different when engaged in scholarly reading and research. His eyes light as he peruses the shelves, smiles and looks of surprise manifest when he stumbles across some new tidbit of fact or history of which he had previously been unaware. Peculiar to some that a man could become so animated reading titles such as Tales of the Destruction of Thedas or The Essays of Divine Ambrosia II, but his excitement over the material is present and palpable.

Tavern
Of an evening, there is a solitary man seated with a single ale which he nurses slowly. Aleron doesn't engage in games of chance, flirt with the servers, or join in any more raucous singing that happens once the patrons are well in their cups. He sits, listens to the bard, sometimes reads a book, other times a letter. The letters often sit on the table for a considerable length of time while he stares off into the distance, as if deliberating if he wants to open them or not. If the place is crowded, he makes no objections to others joining him.

Comments

[aceso]

By we're, she wonders if he just means the Inquisition, or if he's planning to be a part of this. She could use all the help she can get.

His question has her expertly searching through her paperwork to hold out a piece of parchment to him. There is a slight hint of embarrassment on her face as she averts her gaze.

"I am no artist," she explains, "But like this." On the paper is a drawing; a true masterpiece, really, showing what she's observed so far. "Ah, this one?" she says, pointing to the huge one at the bottom. "There is a smaller version of this transformation, but I did not have time to draw it. Those also shoot red lyrium from their hands."

Please refrain from mentioning her art skills.

[lifeofendurance]

He does not comment on her art skills, either negatively or positively. Rather he stares intently at the drawings. Is it a judgment on her skills? Not really. Aleron's attempting to take in as much detail as he can from the crude sketches. The simplicity actually makes it easier to determine important information over some far more stylized art piece that would be found hanging on the wall.

"So it seems that it's capable of shrinking or growing a man, in addition to bestowing unholy powers. Am I understanding it correctly?"

[aceso]

"Yes, well, I do not think shrinking? I did not do it justice, I know. But these with the dagger-like arms? They hunch over a great deal." She tried drawing their back bowing forward, but maybe she should have drawn them from the side too. "But increasing in size, Maker yes. These... growths of red lyrium must also stretch out their limbs and backbone. I cannot imagine the agony it must bring them."

She draws in a breath and nods. Then she sets down her additional paperwork and stands at an angle, holding out one arm. To those across the library from her, she must look a sight, but she doesn't care. This is too important.

"Some shoot out spikes of red lyrium from the palm of one hand. These ones--" Christine points to the drawing of the Lieutenant with the helmet, "Hold out both arms like this and something almost like a mage's storm spell shoots from both palms. They do this to one of their own, and that soldier becomes more powerful, shooting arrows at a faster rate or giving more forceful blows with a sword."