fadewalk | RP: Open

Something was wrong with the air.

Alistair had never finished his Templar training but the ever-present awareness of magic energies wasn't something you could simply douse or put away. Cousland had insisted he continue to practice his skills, had even asked to learn some of the simpler tricks, and as always, Alistair found himself thanking the man for his foresight.

The air here had a metallic taste, a pungent tang and a heavy weight to it, as if a thunderstorm was about to break. It had been that way for almost an hour, ever since Alistair had awoken in a bed not his own, in a small room over looking a garden courtyard. The tall stone walls of the castle were not familiar....and neither was the roiling, ugly sky or the seemingly floating chunks of mountain he could see in the distance.

It reminded him of nothing but the Fade - the awful experience in the Kinloch Hold with the Sloth demon. But Alistair was very much awake...as a stubbed toe and loud swearing had proven. Whatever had apparently happened while he had been asleep, it was nothing good.

"...I'm not going to get that paperwork done any time soon, am I?" Alistair sighed, and leaned against the railing wall, staring mournfully down into the garden.

"Maker's balls."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Now that you mentioned it..."

She studied the armory, unable to find a good longbow suited for her, frowning slightly. "Perhaps someone got here first, yes. Or things in this Fade-version of Skyhold simply doesn't match the original one."

The woman investigated the place, trying to find any clues. The dust trail on the floor meant some boxes had been moved somewhere else and she frowned some more. "I guess you were correct about the former. Now the only question is were those things are now."

"Well, if Skyhold were under siege from strange and mysterious forces, where would you hide? Somewhere sturdy, with very few exits, likely." Alastair looked at Leliana, expectantly. "Any one of those towers I saw might work...but you know best. Seeing as you live here."

"Did you spot anyone you knew among those who are here? Any one else from the Inquisition's forces who might have tried to bunker down?"

"No, not yet. But the day is long. Come, there are few places I can think of, all of it back in the castle."

Someone bunkering down... Cassandra wouldn't do it, she was the type to take point on battles, not avoid them. Iron Bull too. Blackwall was more careful then the other two and someone who could be easily reasoned with. Cullen was also a great possibility. Maker, if only the Inquisitor was there, she could wiggle her fingers and take them out of the Fade.

Alistair was happy to follow Leliana back to the safety of the thick stone walls and high ceiling of the main hall - the ugly, roiling sky was unnerving, so say the least. He trekked along behind her, buckling on the sword belt that he found (and desperately trying to stop it from slipping down, when he discovered that it was just slightly too big).

Leliana's first guess about the whereabouts of the missing equipment was the War Room (she had thought about the rookery, but the burnt scent dissuaded her), which was pretty silly because she had come from there not half an hour ago. Truth to be told, she wasn't really concerned about the place or paying attention to it, more worried about the sky outside and the strange sensation from the Fade.

She opened the door, sighing at the crates by the walls.

"Now it seems better."

Alastair peered over Leliana's shoulder, and made a pleasant sound at the sight of the crates stacked around the walls. "Well, someone has done a good job here."

The large table in the center of room seemed to contain a number of journals, maps, papers, and other useful detritus of an office. Someone had very obviously been keeping records. Alistair shuffled some of the papers around, until he found something that looked like a log nook. He waved it at Leliana. "Recognize this handwriting? Might tell us who did all this preparation. It looks like someone would be ready for a siege in here."

Leliana examined the papers, only confirming what the organization around her had already told: Cullen was there. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of him trapped in the Fade. Fate could be ironic, to put it mildly.

"It appears to me that Commander Cullen is here as well, which is good. We can find him and see what he figured already." and she backed away from the war table, searching for a good longbow and a quiver in the stock.

Alastair took the time to look for a shield, as well as a better sword (and sword belt). As he did, he hummed somewhat timelessly - some silly song about a sassy girl named Sera that he had heard some ministers playing in Denerim recently.

A thought occurred to him. "If he is here frequently enough to be doing paperwork, perhaps we should wait for him? Or would that look a bit strange? 'Oh, hello, sorry we just broke into your new, fortified office for a chat!'"

"This looks like a terrible way to start a conversation, yes."

She giggled, strapping the quiver to her back and placing the longbow with it. "Besides, I don't think the Rotunda just came into spontaneous combustion. Perhaps things are more dire than it looks. Even more dire than being trapped in the Fade."

As she spoke, she shuffled the pages of her journal, remembering it when strapping the quiver. Her eyes widened at all the information on it, from several people. "Alistair, have you noticed a journal like this when you woke up?"

Alastair frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. Had he seen such a journal when he awoke? "Perhaps....I was more concerned about waking up in a strange new place than what was immediately around me. Why? Is it important?" He moved closer, trying to get a look at the journal Leliana had in her hands.

"This is... disturbingly fascinating." she handed the journal so he could see for himself "Apparently, everything about everyone is registered here. I just saw notes of a Inquisitor different from the place where we came from, and even another Hero of Ferelden, an elven woman, mage! Cousland would really like to meet her."

(OOC: Do you guys mind if I join this scene?)

(ooc: no, not at all! the more the merrier! ^^)

(OOC: Shall I post in after Alistair's next rep? So it would go Alistair - Sera - Leli?)

(ooc: perf 8D )

"Cousland likes to meet everyone. Except werewolves. And undead. And demons." Alastair began flipping through the pages of the journal, stopping evey few pages to read snippets, or examine the strange diagrams and drawings. "You're right!...hold on this can't be right. This is weird." He flipped open to a specific pages with very familiar handwriting. "There appears to be another me."

((OOC: My Sera summoning worked! Yes!))

Sera had been sitting in her window glaring at the sky, fuming over all the shite bubbling and boiling up there. She was bloody tired of the Fade, stupid fake people, weird copies, the creepy demon. But that was over and Aria had finally turned up, late for lunch again.

The shadows that crossed the courtyard to the armory and then back drew her eye and she slipped out the window to follow them back to the War Room, her step light and keeping tight to the shadows. She wasn't sure she could out-sneak the Nightengale on her best day, but the big hat with the sword was making enough noise she wasn't in any danger her breathing giving her away.

She crouched in the shadow of the door, head cocked to listen as they tried to sort through all the bollocks. She snorted softly at Alistair's comment. Nothing was right about any of this piss.

Leliana heard someone's snort, but said nothing.

"Maker, another of you? The gods clearly have no mercy on their hearts." she made a genuine shocked expression, soon replaced by a smirk "Is seems this Fade-Skyhold has no boundaries regarding time or... how our choices made us. This is very interesting, somehow. Sure can put an end to several wonderings of 'what if'."

Alistair shook his head, a uncharacteristically serious expression on his face as he read. "I'm not so certain I want to know what would cause me to be so...angry. Seems better to let sleeping dog lords lie, in cases like that."

He was too focused on the journal to be aware of much beyond the room.

Sera crept forward just enough to get an eye around the corner. No telling if it were her Leliana, but she knew her way around the place, so near enough to be scary if provoked. That other tit was Alistair, but he looked... fancier than the last time she'd seen him. She wrinkled her nose slightly. Wasn't a bad sort, but this one looked like a bit of a rich tit.

She rocked back on her heels and considered for a moment. Announce herself or scamper off and let the Aria and Cullen know there were new birds falling out of the trees? Well, she could at least let them know what was which and up from down.

She stayed out of the doorway, no reason to get suddenly shot. "You should know, Cullen's fair free with the weapons, but you should leave him a note or he'll make that face he gets when his sums won't figure."

Alistair promptly dropped the journal, tried to get this sword free from his scarbard, and promptly knocked his unarmored knee against the war table at the sound of another person's voice coming through the doorway. Wincing, he stood, armed and ready....and more than a little confused.

"...Would that be the face he made when he wasn't sure if something one the mages said was an insult or a flirtation? I'm not sure I've ever seen him doing sums..."

"Oh, and why lose sight of his usual cute nose wrinkle?"

Leliana replied, without turning to the door.

"But as this journal works, I'm pretty sure he can keep track of everything and everyone, no? Though a note would be really polite, and it isn't like we are racing against time. That aside, there is no need for hiding, Sera. At least, not here."

((OOC: Whoops, sorry about jumping the order. I miscalculated! Sera, you're up next, then Leliana, then we're back in order!))

(OOC: No worries. :) )

Sera poked her head out as she heard all the crashing and thrashing about, mouth splitting into a wide grin. She shook her head at Alistair, not exactly worried about him, and smiled toward Leliana.

"If only you had books like that back home, yeah? Know what everybody was eating for breakfast, what color their knickers, without having to lift a finger or send a bird." She rubbed a finger across the bridge of her nose. "So, this is weird, right, but it helps. Aria Lavellan's my Herald. Who's yours?"

"This is really useful, but a little... lazy, no? Digging information, eavesdropping, blackmailing... everything adds its own charm to the occupation."

She smiled.

"No Lavellan lady from where I came from. We have Inquisitor Trevelyan instead."