Truth or Dare: Side Party for Servants and Scoundrels

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone!
WHAT: A party for people who might scare the nobility, are deathly afraid of chandeliers, or fled the soiree with cheeses hidden in their clothes and need to make a clean getaway.
WHEN: During (and after) the soiree.
WHERE: The valley beyond Skyhold.
NOTES: Drinking, revelry. People might make out or something. We're not responsible for your actions.

The soiree might be fun, if you're into that sort of thing, but that isn't what it's for. It's for impressing the powerful and opening their pockets—and, necessarily, some people aren't invited. In some cases that's personal. In others, it's just understood. When they're done helping to set up, most of the servants and workers who aren't needed to serve make themselves scarce. The usual trickle of refugees to and from the fortress slows. Some people used to sleeping in the stables may find their "beds" occupied by nobles' horses or the rooms they had been squatting in cleaned and prepared for someone else to stay in.

There's no resentment. (Or at least very little.) That's how these things go. And in the valley outside the fortress' walls, there are foot soldiers and refugees and a number of miscellaneous exiles who welcome the company with large fires, cheap but freely flowing alcohol, and whatever music can be wrung out of instruments exposed to such low temperatures. The crowd thins and dwindles as the night wears on, but even after the last person has left the Great Hall in Skyhold, there's still a sizable gathering near the river with no intention of going to sleep before sunrise.

No masks allowed.

Comments

[sandsofhell]

It wasn't so much as he wasn't wanted at the more formal gathering, and more of the fact that such a gathering wasn't for him. He had already made an appearance there. Not with such a large crowd of nameless, and faceless, people. Not with the remnants of the burns covering his skin, or the impassive ways that he would stare at the large throngs of people.

Most certainly not when a body, struggling and hanging by the neck; beaten and bloodied. Images of large crowds of nameless strangers jeering and throwing rocks and whatever they could get a hold, or the sounds of gunfire like a drum, screaming and stampeding of feet.

No...he can't do crowded areas. Instead Walker would stay in his seat, nodding to whoever decided to glance his way and gulping down his beer. It was cheap, didn't taste all that great, but still kept his mind empty and intoxicated.