In Search Of...

[salvatore_underfoot]

WHO: All Welcome, ATTN: Taashath
WHAT: Seeking mages and a certain qunari
WHEN: First two weeks, following this conversation
WHERE: Around Skyhold, Herald’s Rest
NOTES: He’s screening mages and looking for a handful who will be willing to join him in meeting with the Templars to present their side of Things. Non-mages welcome.

Salvatore has a mission. A responsibility. He wasn’t an altogether responsible person. Not usually. But this was something that mattered. To him. Maybe to others as well. He hopes. He just has to find mages with opinions, and voices ready to be heard.

He can be found in every corner of Skyhold, finding various excuses to interact with whatever mage he bumps into. He starts in the library and steadily makes the rounds, offering assistance in trade for conversation. Need some boxes moved? Tents pitched? Training? He can spar and talk! Need help with gardening? He can dig holes! Healing? …He can dig holes! (By the way, how do you feel about feel circles?)

He does take up the Knight-Commander’s suggestion and heads down to the Herald’s Rest as soon as it is prudent to do so. Maneuvering around people and tables, he’s less concerned about getting a drink and more concerned with his objective. How hard can it be to find a “behemoth”, as Sauveterre put it?

Comments

[salvatore_underfoot]

Salvatore is circling through the library, hands dragging on the spines of books he'll eventually get to, or not. He's not focused on reading, or research, or even pretending to do either, today. Is anyone dedicated to restoring the quality of the literature?

Speaking of.

He stops as pages suddenly flutter around his feet. "You've a peculiar way of reading."

[deflocked]

He's already on his knees, frantically gathering the fallen pages, trying to keep them as ordered as he can. It's not an easy task and not one he's having much success with. He looks up at him, grabbing the pages that were around him before backing off to give him back his space.

"I'm sorry," he tells him, though it's more automatic than genuine. He's still absorbed by trying to gather up the remaining pages before any can get lost. "I hadn't realised quite how damaged the spine was."

[salvatore_underfoot]

Sal stoops down to pluck a few pages from the floor and hand them over. "Don't apologize." He smiles in what he hopes is a disarming manner. "A good many of these books could use a rebinding. Though I suppose we should be grateful for what we've been given."

[deflocked]

"We should be," he agrees, but his tone doesn't manage to hide that's not entirely the case. He takes the pages he's offered, adding them to the pile to rearrange later. He makes quick work of gathering the rest, then sits himself at the table to begin the long task of getting them all back in order.

"It's a pity I couldn't rescue more from the Circle," he says, half to himself. "We had so many."

Not that he was in a position to have books in any quantity at the time. Books don't mix with travelling and he had to keep his supplies light.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Salvatore invites himself to the table, seated directly across from the other mage. "I was forced to pack light for my journey here. I only managed to stuff three books into my bag. Sacrificed two spare undershirts to fit them, but it was worth it."

He watches the work, but doesn't want to interfere for fear of needlessly making the job harder. "Which Circle do you hail from? Ah, and sorry, manners. I'm Salvatore."

[deflocked]

"Daylen. Kinloch Hold," he answers, a touch of pride in his voice. It's clear he had a fondness for it. He looks up from his work curiously, never one to turn down conversation with a fellow mage.

"Which Circle did you come from?"

[salvatore_underfoot]

"Perendale was mine." There's no love lost for his. Maybe an ache for something familiar, as it was the only thing he had known for a great many years. But he's eager for new things. "Kinloch. That's Ferelden?"