faderift | OPEN: The Loyal Shield

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OPEN: The Loyal Shield

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.

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Once Christine returns from Emprise du Lion, it's straight back into research in the library. She needs to get permission from the advisers to study the red lyrium, so for now she's just pooling together what she's learned so she can write a suitable proposal. There are maps of Sahrnia laid out before her with numerous Xs on it, plenty of notes, a quill and pen close by, and several rolled up bits of blank parchment.

In addition to this project, she still has her spirit healer studies, and there is a stack of books on the subject on her table, which she sorts through, looking for a certain bit of information. Her movements cause the rolls of parchment to roll straight off the table and next to Aleron where he stands besides a shelf, and Christine lets out a sigh of exasperation as she stands to retrieve them.

"Excuse me," she says, to warn him not to step on any parchment, nor to step on her hand as she crouches to collect it all.

Belinda is far from the only resident in Skyhold to visit the chapel, and being a former Templar she's used to early morning prayers because it was that way during training. Being as devout as she is, she feels it would be wrong to miss a day of prayer in front of the statue of Andraste, so she heads there before the sun has even risen past the peaks of the mountains. She kneels down, fingers laced together in prayer, and begins to recite passages that she feels are relevant during this time of war, chaos, and uncertainty.

When someone else enters, she turns and smiles.

"Hello," she says quietly. There is something about being in a chapel that makes her always keep her voice hushed. "Would you like me to recite in my head? Or we could pray together."

It is a bad habit of Seekers to slip into Skyhold all unannounced - or at least, without announcing themselves to Benevenuta. All right; he is the second, only, but if a third should appear...!

In other words, it is with smiling surprise that she slows to a stop beside the table at which he's stopped to read his fill, the years since they gently and politely disentangled from one another perhaps not enough to have dispelled the memory of the particular blended scent of rosewater and magic that announces her before her hand falls familiar on his shoulder;

"Aleron?"

She'd always been a bit presumptuous with personal space - more, probably, after they'd firmly put paid to the notion of their marrying and she could be assured he'd not think anything of it.

The new Seeker wasn't the only one who used the Courtyard for practice -- if not an odd one.

Bethany was out there every single day, twisting and moving her body through an almost slow dance as she moved her arms and shifted her body through various spells, yet no magic every left her body. In fact, it appeared she was using the exercises to focus her mana and control her magic, keeping it under her purview.

Every day she would give the Seeker a friendly nod if they were out there at the same time. It was safe to say, however, that she nodded at everyone in a friendly manner, whether or not they returned it.

People don't usually get this animated about libraries. It's rare enough that Pel sort of has to speak up, and connect with a fellow nerd.

"Got a favorite subject?"

Since arriving in Skyhold, Araceli has spent plenty of time in the library. Books will always have their place, and though she knows people are her best bet for current information, she misses time spent curled up in a library with her fox squarely on her lap. There’s still much more traffic than she’s used to but when you’ve been trying to engross yourself in history as it relates to Orlesian politics when it’s so new? You need a distraction before your brain threatens to explode.

Looks like she’s just spotted hers.

Sidling over, one finished book of popular tales and songs in her hand (if she’s going to be a bard, she’s doing this properly, she isn’t going to let Leliana down) she makes a face at the the volume of essays. “Are you honestly going to read that?”

Josephine knows she needs to spend less time in her office, but the guilt she feels at taking part in any frivolous pursuits has only grown lately, despite her friends' efforts to make sure she takes regular breaks.

Even she has her limits, though, and after an less-than-productive morning where words had finally failed her, she knew she had to do something, anything, to give her mind a proper chance to rest.

She could not begrudge herself a short walk, in the end, and she assured herself that she would be fresh and ready to resume her work afterwards.

It is when she is wandering through the courtyard that she notices one of the Inquisition's newer arrivals, dutifully practicing his swordcraft. Ah. This must be the Seeker.

Lest she disturb him when he is intent in his training, Josephine settles to watch him for a little while, closing drawing near as she waits for an appropriate time to gain his attention. When she senses such a moment, she clears her throat, announcing her presence.

When Korrin is present in Skyhold, she makes her presence known in the courtyard daily. The Vashoth mage never neglects her training, especially when she has a new path yet to be mastered. That might draw some attention, as the specialized path of the Knight-Enchanter is typically only known to Circle mages and the Chantry-affiliated. Yet, here is the proud apostate, diligently repeating her stances and maneuvers just as she's been taught.

Kain is constantly training, always setting aside time from his day to work on honing his skills. He's out there in full dragoon armor along with his usual lance, sometimes stabbing dummies, sometimes working on his jumping and related techniques.

He doesn't usually pay a lot of attention to others there, focusing on his own work. But sometimes, like now, as he's pausing between routines, he does take a moment to watch. It's a good idea to keep some idea of what the others are capable of, he may be fighting alongside them eventually, after all.

Folding his arms, Kain watches and does indeed notice the man practicing with the sword and how he seems to be struggling... "Not your typical weapon?" he asks eventually.

Early in the morning, before the sun has even broken over the ramparts, Ingrid makes her way into the chapel, quietly reciting from the Chant of Light in Ander:

"Augen Trauer verblindete, in der Finsternis ungebrochen
Dort auf dem Berg, antwortete eine Stimme meinen Anruf.
'Herz, das gebrochen ist, schlägt noch unaufhörlichen,
Ein Meer von Leid tut niemand ertrinken.
Sie haben, Speertrau Alamarr vergessen.
Innerhalb Meine Schöpfung sind, keine Ruhe'."

Absently, but with reverence, she fingers a pendant around her neck, a dark red bauble suspended from a silver chain.

Edited (HTML fail) 2016-03-08 07:00 (UTC)

She's seen him on quite a few occasions in the Herald's Rest, always keeping to himself. Emmeline's intrigued by him, much like she's intrigued by a lot of things in this mountainous fortress. It could be because he stands out, something good and pure among the rabble-rousers who tend to congregate within the Tavern. The Bard's songs are always delightful, the people joyous no matter the day.

But he's always so serious. She hasn't seen him look genuinely happy any of the times he's been in there, and that definitely concerns her. The Rest was a place of merriment, and her goal in life was to see everyone smile at least once. Twice if she's lucky.

Mug in hand, Emmeline makes her way over to his table, sliding into the seat opposite him without even asking first. Her tone is light, Orlesian by accent. "You always look so serious."

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{ drakonis 14 } library

{ guardian 24 } chapel

no subject

Courtyard

Library - Guardian 25

library; late guardian

Guardian 27; courtyard

Courtyard

Courtyard

Chapel

no subject