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The boxsplosion has been dealt with, and Shephard thanked Kanaya appropriately before taking his various Christmas gifts home. Except the mug- he's keeping that in one of the abstracted pockets of the jacket Kanaya gave him a while back, as he intends to make a point of using it where people can see. He's not drinking now, though. Alene, one of Mrs. Wilson's first litter, insisted on following him when he started putting things away, so she's trotting happily along behind him as he heads out to the target range. It's been a while since he's been able to get in any time with a bow, and he's got some recently fletched and tipped arrows to test out anyway. Best to have one of the houndeyes around in case someone- not naming any names, but they're probably French- wanders through. Again.

He'll be happy to talk in between flights, though.

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Liranan rolls onto his side to give Alene room if she wants to nap, too.

Honest.

"No one ever gets to leave that shit to the experts, I swear. It's ridiculous. Maybe my world's cursed, like that."

Well, okay, but she thought they were playing? Doesn't the big thing with only two eyes want to play?

"If it is, I reckon we got some spare parts of your curse on us," Shephard says. "Or maybe it's just on a couple of us and everybody else just gits pulled along by the current."

"That also sounds frighteningly likely."

It really, really does.

"I hope it's not a plague, too."

Liranan, stealthy mabari that he is, now attempts to flop on top of Alene.

Gently.

HWOORMPH.

Stealthy is fine but there is the little question of mass. Alene will be squirming for a bit as she tries to get out from under the dinosaur of a dog.

"You'n me both, ma'am. You'n me both."

He will roll off of her soon enough. Otherwise this game is boring.

"Warden, please, if you insist on titles. I'd rather Ysalwen, though. I get enough of the rest at home, and more every day."

"Force of habit," Shephard admits. "I joined the service the day after I got done with my schoolin', not to mention I got the kind of momma who'd tar me somethin' fierce if I didn't pay my proper respect to a lady 'til she told me otherwise. Warden of what, if you don't mind my askin'?"

"Grey Wardens. We're an order -- nominally military, I suppose -- that guards all of Thedas against the threads of Archdemons, darkspawn, and the Blight. There are two of us in Ferelden, now."

Her mouth twists again. It's almost a smile.

"There are supposed to be more. I have no idea how we'll get them."

A pause.

"You got to choose to go into the service?"

"We don't do conscription 'cept in time of war, and it wasn't time of war when I was finishing with school," Shephard says. "My folks had four kids other'n me and nowhere near enough money to send more'n two of 'em to college. I signed up with the Marines to make me a name'n let my baby brother git the extra schoolin' instead."

"Grey Wardens have the right of Conscription, as well. Only they don't have to wait for a Blight to use it. It's -- in a way I suppose it's for the best, as they often use it to pardon criminals and conscript them into the Wardens."

Again her mouth twists. Someone has conflicting feelings. A little.

"Commuting the sentence, as it were. I -- half volunteered and half didn't."

A pause.

"How is your baby brother? And your mother?"

Are they still alive?

"Huh. I heard of things like that in a couple of our past wars- you c'n go to jail or you c'n go to this here recruiting station and sign up with the army, your choice, kind of thing," Shephard says. "But that's just a regular army, not the kind of thing that fights demons'n shit."

He rubs at his nose with his gloved hand.

"Now, I ain't real sure it's my place to ask about the voluntering or not, so I'm just gonna head on over to your question'n say both of 'em are doin' pretty well. Danny was studyin' forestry and wood and such when the Combine invaded; he got the hell out of school'n made it hope. He's a hell of a carpenter now. Momma got elected mayor of my home town a couple years back, while they were still hidin' from the Combine. She's still in charge. Ain't remarried since the bullsquid killed Poppa, though."

"I'm sorry about your father," Ysalwen says. "And glad to hear your mother and brother are doing well."

She's very, very glad to hear that. It's nice, when people have families.

"As for me, I was doing a favor for a friend, who decided to resort to blood magic when we were caught. I was already distrusted by the Circle, given my own magical talents, so even without having done anything directly terrible -- First Enchanter Irving thought it would be better if I were gone. Grey Warden Duncan was there recruiting, and it -- I would have made worse bargains to leave the Circle, and this was my first chance. Add to that doing some good and defending the realm, and -- "

She spreads her hands.

"In its way it wasn't a choice at all, really."

There's a lot that could be said to that, and a lot of ways a listener could respond. Unfortunately, Shephard's lot has fallen on possibly the least productive one.

"... Irving. You got a super-wizard with a name like Irving."

We're so very sorry. He'll be snickering for a while.

Ysalwen's lips twitch.

"He's also got a ridiculous beard."

If that helps.

"Perkele," Shephard says when he gets the snickering under control. "That poor fuckin' son of a bitch. No offense or nothin', but that sure as fuck ain't a magical-soundin' name where I come from."

"At least it's not Slim Coudry. That would be worse."

Probably?

"What do you count as a magical-sounding name?"

"Fuck if I know," says Shephard, "but 'Irving' sounds like an accountant. Understand, I'm the first man to admit my own name ain't nothin' you'd expect on a soldier. Shephard's my family name. Momma named me Adrian, and that don't sound much like a man in uniform ought to sound."

"I think it works well enough. Surana is my family name, but it's been a long time since I've met anyone else that uses it."

Sadly.

"What kind of name should a man in uniform have? Adrian sounds fine to me."

Shephard shrugs. "Dunno. Name's a mite on the old-fashioned side, I know that much. Momma named me after an emperor who's been dead a hell of a long time. Got it out of a book, it ain't one that gits used in my family or somethin'."

"I think my mother just made mine up. Because it sounded pretty."

She sounds fond when she says it, however.

"Fair 'nough," says Shephard amiably. "You git folks doin' that back home in places. Or mashin' other names together, too, that's a thing."

Alene manages to wriggle her way free and backs up enough to lower her front end in what looks like a play-bow. It's only fair to give a warning before attempting to jump on that mountain of a mabari.

"Maybe it's Dalish. Or a corruption of Dalish. My father was one, or so my mother said. I -- it would be nice to believe that."

Her smile is wry.

"Do they mash parts of different languages together, your people? When they choose to make up their own names."

"Tell you the truth, my people mash together parts of different languages just 'cause they can," Shephard says. "You got folks like the French, they're all protective of their language bein' pure'n shit, and then you git English, which is about seven or eight different languages all stuck together by three blind dudes and a German dictionary. Far as names go, it ain't all that unusual to pick somethin' up from another language." His mouth twitches. "You hear some stories about that kind of thing... 'course, now you got me wondering what's Dalish, I ain't never heard that particular term before."

"Dalish are the elves that live in no human city, and who travel the lands in aravels pulled by Halla. They remember the most of the old times, before Arlathan fell, and they are always seeking to find more memories and records of that time."

She laughs a little, quietly.

"We were supposed to go to them, when I was old enough. But then I showed a gift for magic and that was the end of that."

Shephard nods. "We ain't got elves at all where I come from," he says, and has the good sense not to mention toys or Keebler cookies. "Magic some kind of problem for them?"

Hey, you never know. Maybe they're like Noriko's asshole parents flipping their shit about the mutant thing.

"Most people seem to fear powers and influences they do not and cannot possess. Religion only makes it worse."

She shrugs, mouth twitching into a faint smile as she watches Liranan hold still under Alene's assault -- so he does not send her flying -- then wriggle around ineffectually for awhile more.

"Those with magic are taken by the Chantry to Circles, where we are taught our powers under the watchful eye of the templars, knights with the power to nullify enchantments. If we cannot or will not master our skills, or if we seek to escape all these eyes, we are made Tranquil. Or killed. I cannot say it is wrong to be wary, either, for an unprepared mage or one weak of will may fall to demons and bring death out of the Fade and into the real world. I've seen it happen. But -- "

She shakes her head.

" -- so too is a man with a sword dangerous, if he knows how to use it well, and even moreso if he is good at making friends wherever he goes. And we do not jail all our soldiers."

A pause, and a half-laugh.

"Sorry. You can see, perhaps, why I prefer the freedom of being a Warden to the constraints of a Circle."

Edited 2014-12-30 17:47 (UTC)