Ysalwen Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden (
freedom_is_grey) wrote in
milliways_bar2015-02-28 08:10 pm
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A crackle of lightning and the smell of burning accompanies Ysalwen as she enters Milliways. Blood, reddish-black and viscous, is spattered on her robes, and the air around her looks faintly warped.
Liranan is hard on her heels, hide covered in kaddis and a spiked black collar on his neck, teeth bared, with a snarl boiling in his throat. His hide is similarly blood-spattered.
"Andraste's ass," Ysalwen spits, as the door clicks closed behind her. "This is not where I wanted to be."
Maker-be-damned darkspawn in Vigil's keep, and the Wardens missing, or dead. Ending the Blight was supposed to stop this sort of thing.
She'll think to clean up once she finds the door resolutely shut fast behind her.
Probably.
After spitting some blistering oaths at it first.
Liranan is hard on her heels, hide covered in kaddis and a spiked black collar on his neck, teeth bared, with a snarl boiling in his throat. His hide is similarly blood-spattered.
"Andraste's ass," Ysalwen spits, as the door clicks closed behind her. "This is not where I wanted to be."
Maker-be-damned darkspawn in Vigil's keep, and the Wardens missing, or dead. Ending the Blight was supposed to stop this sort of thing.
She'll think to clean up once she finds the door resolutely shut fast behind her.
Probably.
After spitting some blistering oaths at it first.

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When he enters on his way to the kitchen, he almost walks into Ysalwen, his disguise is down and he looks her over with a frown, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
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Liranan, too, shows more of his teeth, and keeps himself between Quentin and Ysalwen, regardless.
It's been a bad day.
"No," Ysalwen grits out, after a moment. "I'm uninjured, and there's a healer waiting for me back on the other side of the door, anyway. Once I can get to the man, that is. And back to the battle. I'm needed."
Dammit, door.
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The look on her face is far too familiar from his life of late, "Of course, open roads."
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"If only you were the one I needed to convince."
Ysalwen reaches out to pull on the handle again, regardless.
As if this will change anything.
And the door stays closed.
Andraste's tits.
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He's never had the door close on him, though he knows about being trapped in knowes and realms.
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"I should have expected this. Somehow."
At her side Liranan growls. Maybe he thinks he should have expected it, too.
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Its a way of thinking that makes complete sense to him.
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Like now.
For example.
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He's curious and maybe there's a way that he can help get her back.
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For a moment it almost looks like she'll kick the door, but she refrains.
One breath.
Two.
"To be fair, I'm out of lyrium potions."
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Potions are what Walther does but he knows some of the theory.
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And maybe she can buy some from Bar.
"I should probably eat, too. And maybe sleep. Until Bar decides to let me go."
If she's got to be practical about it.
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Its worrying and now she's not doing anything which is worse.
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Some of the crackling magic in the air fades, but the warped air between them remains.
Shields, you see.
"Only half?"
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"The other half, people really do want to be here, to meet someone or to get away or just get a beer.
"But it looks like you need to get back to something serious, so I shouldn't keep you."
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She half-turns, tugging at the door again as if to check that it remains stubbornly shut.
"Andraste's knickers!"
She may be a little bit angry.
Smidge.
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He wonders who Andastre is and why she or he has knickers. But this isn't the time to ask about that.
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She'll . . . take it. If she has to.
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"Maybe the bar wants you to take a break and get cleaned up before whatever comes next?" Which is clearly unpleasant.
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She looks down at herself, then, and snorts out a rough laugh.
"Well, being clean would be noticeable, when I go back. But resting, eating, and buying some more lyrium potions might not go amiss, actually."
Bathing --
Eh. She'll just keep the dirty robes. No one will remember the specific locations of blood and/or dirt smudges.
Surely.
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"What's lyrium?"
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Or something like that.
"It's a mineral that channels magic, in a way. The dwarves mine it, and in its worked form it can replenish the reserves of magic-users like me, and give Templars their magic-affecting powers. I am not a Templar."
They're more like knights. For future reference.
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She spreads her hands, letting a little bit more of the magic eke away. The air between them goes back to normal, clear and unwavering.
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