faderift | Definitely not a Dalish...

WHO: Fenris and whomever
WHAT: An elf that is so far from Dalish as it's possible to be arrives in Skyhold
WHEN: Late Harvestmere
WHERE: Around Skyhold, heading to the Herald's Rest
NOTES: Open to all - he's just arrived, feel free to grab him - he'll be heading for the booze as fast as possible

He'd taken a circuitous route to get here, chasing down a particularly nasty slaver troupe that he'd run across previously, but had been too heavily guarded before. This time, only two armed guards had made it easy.

A lot of people were heading back to their homes once more. He didn't care about that, not really. All he cared was that Tevinter wasn't getting it's latest shipment of slaves. But it was something one of the slavers said as he tried to beg for his life that had caught Fenris' attention - that Tevinter Magisters were seen at the Inquistion. It was what had sent him scurrying there as fast as he could. Magisters trying to infiltrate something that had set itself up for good could only go one way, and frankly, it would be easy pickings.

Of course, he knew he would be recognizable to them. Danarius had paraded him about too often for him not to be known, Still, it was a calculated risk. Besides, he'd heard Isabela and Varric were there. People he could trust.

It was vast, he realized as he joined the crowds of refugees pouring into Skyhold. A vast fortress up in the mountains. What better place to launch an invasion of either Orlais or Ferelden from. At least he could see why the Magisters were drawn here.

[ooc I'm heading to bed with a migraine, but I'll get these in the morning.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, given you are in my world, no, I think we can never be even." In Fenris' favor, of course. "Me? As long as they live and let live, I would have no trouble." It's the ones who wanted to take advantage of others that Fenris had the problems with.

"Now I can't tell if you're being contrary for the sake of being contrary, or if that in some way makes you better than me," not that Dante seemed bothered either way, but still, "I doubt it, there are too many fangirls to count, you'd have a huge following of worshippers in spite of yourself."

"Good." He liked not being able to be read. It was far much more fun this way.

"Why would I want worshippers? Only bad things can come of that." He was half convinced that the Magisters wanted people to worship them, which was why they acted like they did. No good things could come of worshipping anyone.

"You're a funny man," and for that Fenris has earned himself an additional drink, because above all things Dante enjoyed funny.

"Oh no, no. Not that kind of worshiper...no...the kind I mean are the ones that steal your clothing when you're not looking , follow you around covertly, and erect these creepy little shrines dedicated to you made up of things of yours that they've accumulated, pictures, and voodoo...just a little creepy. We call these worshipers...fangirls...and fanboys," and Dante considers himself lucky in that he is now in a world without this particular type of worship.

Well. That's the first time he's been called 'funny'. He must be talking about someone else. Though the drink, he'll take.

"And the difference is?" Because let us face it, sometimes those worshippers are not far removed from those who worship, well, anything. Be it the Maker, or a Magister. "Though... voodoo?"

There's a first time for everything and Dante has an unusual sense of humor.

"It's hard to attach a word to it, but you'd recognize it as being different from other kinds of worship immediately," it's recognizable, but indescribable, that was perhaps the main way in which the two were different. Normal worshiping was easy to recognize and label, even the slavish kind of worship. This was a beast on its own island, "a kind of magic, culture, religion...thing...I think their love spells involve sacrificial chickens, but I'm not sure."

That got an incredulous look from Fenris. "Why would anyone want to sacrifice chickens?" Eating them was one thing, but... sacrificial chickens?

He was naturally inclined against it as soon as magic was mentioned though.

Definitely not a Dalish...

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