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

[sistertohermen]

"Everyone should use the word humping. I can think of ruder words if you want to imagine someone with an Orlesian accent saying those." Rachette grins, getting up on a log to make her stance a little higher. In her grandest yet not at all Orlesian accent, she declares: "Fuck the shitty nug-humping assholes."

And then she plops herself down on the log, trying not to laugh at herself and failing. "See? Even worse."

[eviscerates]

Ruby has to do her best not to take her company's sleeve and pre-emptively tug her off the log, even if she's laughing. "That was the worst accent I have ever heard," she admits, even if she's laughing too hard for it to sound like much of an objection. "And I don't even know what a 'nug' is, so... I'm not sure if it's better or worse, honestly."

Still, she holds out her hand to shake with mock-solemnity. "Ruby."

[sistertohermen]

Oh humans and their customs. She shakes the hand, curious at not knowing what a nug is what a travesty. "Rachette. You're not from around, are you." You're a Rifter, aren't you. "Nugs, they're these little hairless pink things, big ears, mostly harmless. You've probably seen them around even if you didn't know what they are. Some people use them as pets." Her nose wrinkles. "I don't know that I could. What's the point of it if you aren't going to skin it and eat it and make some gloves out of leather? They don't seem that useful."

[eviscerates]

"What gave me away?" The question is a little wry, a playful brand of self-mockery. "I'm from somewhere kind of similar, in the very vaguest sense, but we don't have any nugs."

And she exhales a breath of laughter. "They sound sort of like pigs, but I'm guessing there's a difference, somewhere." How has she gotten to talking about pigs at a party? Ruby shakes her head at herself, and makes a mental note to buy a book on how to be social, or something.

[sistertohermen]

"I don't know...we don't have pigs in Orzammar. I've seen some animals I've never seen before now that I'm on the surface, but I also don't know all of their names. It's kind of a learning curve. For both of us, I guess." Chette rolls her shoulders in a shrug.

"So how do you mean, kind of similar?"

[eviscerates]

"Well, have have dwarves, but they're different. We don't have elves, buuuut we do have fairies, although they're probably too different to make any kind of real comparison. Some people have magic, most people don't. Sometimes the world is in danger of ending and people need to rally together and save it."

Ruby shakes her head a little bit. "And sometimes the nobles can really screw it up for everyone else, but there are a few that are very good people. Different, but kind of similar, compared to some places."

[sistertohermen]

Well hey, that is similar-but-different. She's heard of Rifters who come from, apparently, very strange worlds. And here Rachette thought the surface was strange enough. (Or maybe, maybe it's Orzammar that's strange?)

"What are fairies? I don't know if we have those or not. Most of what I know is...dwarven, and from the Stone."

[eviscerates]

"Oh! Well, fairies are magical, and they have wings. They're sort of like guardians, I guess, in that they try to help people. Sometimes they're small enough to stand on the palm of your hand, and sometimes they'd be the same size as your or me." She tilts her head a little to the side, thinking about it. "I've never really had to explain them before, but I think they live by a lot of rules."

And she's curious, though her tone is apologetic. "Does.... from the Stone mean that the stone talks, or something else?"

Oops, someone just walked by with a tray of ale, and she grabs two steins of it, holding one out to her brand new friend.

[sistertohermen]

Who is she to say no to free offered drinks? So long as there's...moderation. She's pretty sure that's the word for it. "Rules," Rachette echoes with a look of disappointment. "They're there for a reason, but some of them are there for really stupid reasons. The Inquisition has rules, but they're still more flexible than some of what I'm used to."

She takes a swig, contemplating how to explain the Stone to a non-dwarf. "The Stone...speaks, kind of, but not with words. When you're a dwarf, when you've still got your Stone sense, you can go around underground no problem, because She guides the way, whereas if we put someone like you in any of our caverns or thaigs, you'd have a hard enough time knowing which way's up much less where you're going. We come from the Stone. The Stone shelters us and provides for us and gives to us, and when we die, we return to the Stone to make Her stronger. It probably seems complicated to non-dwarves," she admits.

It doesn't seem to matter to others of her kind, though. As casteless, she's been rejected by the Stone. And now that she's on the surface, she's, what, double rejected?

She doesn't believe that, though. Not really. Not entirely.

"A lot of stories. Beliefs. Not religion," she points out. "Not some old god with a story and a Chantry behind it."