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Skyhold was almost as extensive as the palace in Denerim, if one counted all the palace gardens and twisting servants quarters. Every room seemed to lead into another, and eventually back again in a giant circle. This meant, of course, that Alistair was hopeless lost. Again.
He had intended to walk back to the room that he had been deposited into the first night (day? Time didn't seem to have much meaning here). He'd left the armor that he had borrowed from Cullen's stockpile there after deciding (foolishly perhaps) that the majority of people stuck in this mess with him were of the trustworthy sort. And it was heavy, uncomfortable stuff - lamellar was not meant to be made of low-quality iron plates, nor was it meant to drag on the shoulders like a poorly-weighted pack. He'd made up his mind to get it and return it to the stockpile for something more comfortable (in case of demons or hostile strangers or whatever else this strange not-Fade cooked up), only to find himself thoroughly lost yet again in the maze of rooms and hallways.
"Of all the infernal-" Alistair stumbled through a door and into the great hall yet again. At the opposite end from where he'd started. He sighed, run a hand through his hair (now tousled in frustration), and stopped in place to try and calm down.
He had intended to walk back to the room that he had been deposited into the first night (day? Time didn't seem to have much meaning here). He'd left the armor that he had borrowed from Cullen's stockpile there after deciding (foolishly perhaps) that the majority of people stuck in this mess with him were of the trustworthy sort. And it was heavy, uncomfortable stuff - lamellar was not meant to be made of low-quality iron plates, nor was it meant to drag on the shoulders like a poorly-weighted pack. He'd made up his mind to get it and return it to the stockpile for something more comfortable (in case of demons or hostile strangers or whatever else this strange not-Fade cooked up), only to find himself thoroughly lost yet again in the maze of rooms and hallways.
"Of all the infernal-" Alistair stumbled through a door and into the great hall yet again. At the opposite end from where he'd started. He sighed, run a hand through his hair (now tousled in frustration), and stopped in place to try and calm down.
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Date: 2015-08-20 06:57 am (UTC)From:Apparently Alistair was always kind. He nodded slowly. "Daylen. Amell. I wouldn't throw you out if you found me something with less ogre on it to wear. It seems like it might be a few days before i get back to my Calling." With that he slipped out the door.
(OOC: maybe a new thread so we can get a Daylen cleaned up before any more sad snuggles might happen. Gnight!)