#roquenxnar

[dreadwxlf]

@roquenxnar

~ The trip to the Temple of Mythal had been...enlightening to say the least. They had stopped Corypheus from gaining another source of power, however, destroying the Well of Sorrows in the process. What that meant for the Inquisitor, whom had volunteered to absorb its knowledge, Solas couldn't say -- but it was nothing good. Most importantly, he had discovered that more of his people still lived. The majority of the Sentinels had decided to remain in the temple; however, one had requested to join the Inquisition -- Myndilon. ~

~ While the majority of Skyhold had retired for the evening, Myndilon was still sorting through the few possessions he had brought from the temple. ~

~ " An'daran Atish'an, " Solas greeted with a polite bow. " The Inquisitor instructed that I show you to your quarters. I am called Solas -- we met briefly in the temple. " He glanced behind him -- the hall was completely deserted. ~

~ "...I was also hoping that we could speak privately on more...sensitive matters, " Solas continued in their native tongue. " It is a pleasure to speak with a fellow Elvhen...I am certain you have devised so already, but only a handful of us remain... ". ~

[idolbound]

‘ People aren’t always who you think they are. You learn to see through it. You learn fast. ’ ( @roquenxnar / @dragxnsfire ) for Runilaros.

The chaos of the crowd - one of Hightown's bustling markets - takes longer that the Knight-Commander would've liked to clear the area and allow herself and two other Knights to pass through. Vendors with sales, calling out for highest bidders of rare items has caused quite a ruckus, and while not the objective of this outing, it does draw her attention through the crowd, noting just who is here and doing what.

Call it a habit of years of experience, but hunting down apostates requires to search for those living amongst the people incognito. Standing tall amid the crowd, the Knight-Commander cuts an imposing figure, with sharp, pointed pauldrons adorned on her shoulders, and the crown emulating Andraste Herself resting above Chantry robes of red, and skirts of navy.

Yet, it is the voice of a man unknown to her, spoken aloud in passing - and in some capacity, she wonders if it is not meant to be directed at her, necessarily - but it garners Meredith's attention, turning toward the source of the voice, where piercingly bright eyes fall upon him - an elf, eyes green and hair grey - and for just a moment, she almost mistakes him for First Enchanter Orsino, and the scrunch of her face and flare of her nostrils nearly gives away the very thought.

"Indeed. It would appear there are many in Hightown that would fall under that very premise..." The insinuation lingers in silence, but her tone dictates it as such. "What has drawn such a crowd here today?"

[hopedflight]

@roquenxnar from here.

"...a necromancer's basement." a pause, wincing as she said it out loud.

"i didn't want to bring it back." fely'ene insisted, her voice small and clearly chastised. she admired beltan. in some ways she felt a small pang of jealousy for his granddaughter -- how lucky she was to have someone like him. yet, she also knew she had her brother. even if he was somewhere off the coast. which, given how things were currently was for the best, even if her heart ached with missing him. she hoped he was safe. perhaps next time they made it to a city of any size, she would see if she could get a message up to luskan.

she forces herself out of her own head, prestidigitation the remaining blood off of herself. "it felt wrong. like something in the back of my head was shouting it was bad. but astarion insisted." fely'ene looked down, clearly leaving the 'and i didn't want to push for my own thoughts' unspoken.

she looks up, "so we did. yet, something wouldn't stop nagging at me about how off it was. and it felt...dark, so i thought if i hit it with radiance, maybe it would fix it. i didn't think it was going to do what it did."

[blightcd]

❝Sooo... what's the whole veil jumper life like?❞

Eyebrows raising slightly as he asks. It was a genuine question, albeit asked a bit awkwardly. He was always like this with the dalish, and other elves that lived outside of Tevinter, a genuine curiosity and a wonder about what life was really like for his kind. What life could've been like for him maybe in another life.

❝I mean like, is it all about artifacts or do you guys do other stuff? And how bad does that val.... the tattoo stuff hurt?❞

@roquenxnar.

[stella-sanguis]

@roquenxnar sent: ❝ you startled me. i…i was miles away. ❞ (from Belthan @roquenxnar :>)

" OH, my apologies! I only said that you're going to be robbed -- not by me of course! " He laughs, indicating a group of rough-looking men at the other side of the tavern. " Just thought I should let you know! " He was a hero now after all, helping the innocent and all that ( and feeding from the villains, but this drow didn't need to know that ).

" HM...but judging by that sword, maybe you didn't need a warning... ".

[sonxofxgondor]

@roquenxnar asked: ' but through it all, i still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing '

Sentence Starters: Agatha Christie! \\ Myndilon Sancrevar

Akin to flowers bloomed amongst the ash of an old and destroyed world, still were there little wonders to be found in the lands. Miracles that Sauron had not trampled - unable to be crushed from battle broken boots or cut from the sharpness of steel blades. Endured despite all the pain had happiness been. Lingered just beneath the surface; hidden to all of those who did not know how to look. But in honest was it there. Almost touched by eager fingertips, even when Boromir could not see it and began to think it gone forever. Just as his father had begun to believe. Committed himself to the very idea like a bridegroom before the ceremonial alter, cast away any hope for an alternative. Denethor did not see. Was blind, noticed nothing that did not appear as maps upon scroll, strategy upon parchment. But Boromir would not be so. Not all beauty had faded just yet. There was still more to witness, more life to be lived and hoped for.

Boromir nodded, the smile on his lips a gentle one. "Life is precious. A gift not to be taken lightly. So many have been greedy with it. Careless, as if it were no more than mere dust upon their boot soles, a meaningless little thing. So much good could be done with life, if only everyone put their mind to doing good. That, in the very least, is what I hope to do with my own. Sir Myndilon? If I may ask a knight of your honor and regard, do you not concern yourself with your own life? Your people, the Elves, your lives span hundreds beyond my own. Do you not ever become overwhelmed by it? Wonder, perhaps, if you have done all that you wish to do? Life has treated me kindly, and yet... I don't feel as if I have done all that I am meant to do. There is so much left, but the hours grow ever shorter and shorter. I fear failure."

[orcristwielder]

@roquenxnar // continued from here.

BRIGHT BLUES HAD WATCHED AS THE ELDER HAD MOVED, DENTED ARMOR clinking together. Thorin's head tilted catching the grimace the elder had given at the clinking, the brunette having kept his chuckle down. That was a sound he had been quite used to so it hasn't bothered him in the slightest, but it must have been a bit on the annoying side. "No offense taken." The dwarf replied, a nod being given in thanks.

His gaze followed the other, head tilting as he spoke. His grandson? Oh, oh. That had Thorin wondering though he would not ask his question outloud. Another nod had been given at the approval of staying, along with a small 'thank you' having been said by the royal in thanks for being allowed to stay and rest his head for the night.

The brunette moved to take a seat, glancing at the elder a moment before doing so. His gaze would shift back when Myndilon asked his question. A deep breath had been taken, his immediate response was always 'it's none of your business' to those who often asked. But this man was nothing more than generous and allowing a stranger to stay in his space - let alone a dwarf to do so, showed Thorin that he could let his walls down a tiny bit. "I am traveling to the Blue Mountains - Ered Luin, as some know it as." The Blue Mountains had been his home for sixty years, traveling back and forth between there and other places to work once more or meet with members of court.

"I had also heard word of my father being in the area." Thorin spoke, his tone soft at the mere mention of Thrain, whom he had not seen since Moria.

[thegreatstrongbow]

❛  where do you think you're going?  ❜ from Urnarseldo @roquenxnar ! (local child here to cause problems tm)

“You can’t keep me here. If I am well enough to walk then I am well enough to leave.”

A lie and anyone could see it. Beleg was not recovered at all, not really, but he did not want to spend another moment in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was mind numbingly dull and he was already restless. Even though he felt dizzy when he sat up. That would pass… probably.

“I want go. You can’t stop me.”

[bushelofmuses]

Ah, right. The lad had just lost his.

Ameridan was struck with a pang of guilt for even bringing up clans and traditions. He shouldn't feel too guilty about the mistake since it happens to the best of people; he hadn't thought about it, but the guilt remained just the same.

But, he was asking questions and opening up. Ameridan would take the out.

"Yes. Far more than what you have now. We were also more independent and settled. It seems that solidifying the Chantry's influence and the war between humans and elves sealed the fates of future elven mages." That may have been partly his fault. He'd helped try to make peace between the two sides, to embrace the cultures and beliefs of both for the sake of being a good little embassador. Maker, it helped further the downfall of the Dalish.

"I'm from clan Ghilain. I wasn't the First, but the Spare. My role changed when I met and befriended one of the Andrastian missionaries. Someone must have been drinking mushroom tea because they thought it a brilliant idea to put me in charge of relations between our clan and a local town. It just snowballed from there."

And...he was right. That would only draw unwanted attention, and no elf or mage wanted that.

"You have a point," he mumbled with a grimace. It would only make things worse.

The old comment caught him off guard and he shot the young man a flat look. "851 is not that old..."

Ameridan was right...because it meant he was ancient. An 'old fart', as it were. Ameridan just didn't like being reminded of his age; he never knew he was vain until he was freed from his little time bubble.

The young man turned, giving the First Inquisitor a brief, sour look— that was the sort of chiding he'd expect from a healer… or his own Keeper. Still, he obeyed, and moved to sit on his hands: no way to fidget now. "Right, right— I won't." His brows furrowed as he gave a soft hum. Seldo craned his neck to peer out the nearest window, catching a quick glimpse of one of the Inquisition's soldiers. "Never interacted with them much, not 'til we came here," he said, nodding to the grand banners fluttering from Skyhold's towers. "My clan doesn't…" he paused, swallowing. "Didn't have a town, so it was a little easier to avoid conflict. But not impossible. Obviously." He cleared his throat, gaze shifting up, trying to think of something, anything to fill the silence, to stop his mind from wandering back mere weeks ago.

"There used to be more mages allowed?" he asked, a brow flicking up, tilting his head. "So you weren't your Keeper's First? Or, in training to be?" The young elf's lips drew into a thin line. "It's… odd to think about, you know? What if you had a whole clan of mages?" Seldo's lips pulled into a small frown, looking up at Ameridan anew, finally studying the older elf's face. "So you were Dalish? That's where you got yours?" He rubbed his own forehead with a thumb.

His frown twisted into something more dubious— certainly less curious. He shook his head, and shifted, hopping from his place on the table. "Don't say anything— the last thing I need are a lot of Templars thinking I complained about them. I'd be a 'scared little rabbit'." He snorted. "Besides, I've got my own way of taking care of these things." The young man turned back to Ameridan, folding his arms over his chest. "You know, you don't have to help at all— this isn't your Inquisition; you could retire. Drink tea. Old people like tea, right?"

[thedivaking]

❛ i'm sorry, i didn't know where else to go. ❜ (from Myndilon, @roquenxnar!)

myndilon — @roquenxnar

For a moment, at the edge of his grand hall, where dancing shadows were cast against limestone by the unruly flicker of torch lights, Thranduil remained silent. His spirit had been stirred by the rustling of Mirkwood and her discomfort. The stranger before him, though of an Elven aura, was neither Sindar nor Silvan, with weary features and an intensity foreign to the Elven kingdoms of Eriador and Rhovanion. But Thranduil's realm would always be a sanctuary for those in need, even if his mind remained wary of the few who made it to his doorstep without aid. Rarely did the elves of other lands seek refuge here. And rarely did they endure his forest unscathed. His voice was measured. Regal. With a touch of curiosity, but gently laced in suspicion. "From whence do you come, wanderer? Your burdens are certainly great if they have brought you to Mirkwood."

[hopedflight]

"do you have any sevens?" rhylzen asks, glancing up at the other drow as they approach the bar. a small smirk quirks the corner of his lips, before glancing down at the game of solitaire he is currently losing at. somehow. he decides to chalk it up to an incomplete deck, which, given it had been one that was 'retired' from usage in the backrooms was not an unlikely assumption. he gathers up the cards and begins to shuffle them, smoothly, still watching seldus. there's a hawk-like curiosity to his scrutiny.

the tavern is one of the few places rhylzen lets his disguise lapse. he's on guard duty this evening, by virtue of being the only one not interested in consuming copious amounts of liquor. not that he minded. it was an easy job, and all he really did was sit at the bar and make sure people didn't get too drunk and unruly.

most had enough sense by now not to mess with the tavern and inn, thankfully. "you're new." a curious statement, glancing him over.

@roquenxnar (seldus) liked for a starter from rhylzen!

[blightcd]

"come on, just answer the question." (from urnarseldo! @roquenxnar)

What was with the youth of this era and their demanding curiosity? Sighing as he breaks open another shell, tossing it aside as he pops the nut into his mouth. Some children.

❝You're so rude in your questioning, you know that?❞

Chuckling softly as he asks, cutting what might've been a biting remark into a softer one.

❝How about this? I'll let you ask me three questions, any three you want, but I also get to ask you three questions. We'll alternate, is that agreeable?❞

@roquenxnar.

[dreadwxlf]

~ Solas stared down blankly at the tomes and papers scattered before him, unable to focus. His study, it seemed, was the only place that wasn't overrun with Seldo's new companions; the people who had seemingly taken up permanent residence in his sanctum. He knew how they derided him, but he cared little for what they thought. All he had to focus on was fixing Seldo's mistakes and re-imprisoning the Evanuris...without his agents, armies, or any semblance of powerful magic. Just a gaggle of quickling children that thought they knew everything. The elf groaned, burying his face in his hands. ~

~ Just then, the door to his study creaked open. Solas quickly glanced up, straightening his spine somewhat as Seldo entered. He said nothing as the younger elf approached him, taking hesitant steps as if Solas might bite him. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as the Veil Jumper set down a plate of dried meat in front of him. His eyes flicked back up to Seldo, violet gaze piercing yet unreadable. ~

~ " ...A ritual a decade in the making is ruined, and my greatest enemies walk the earth once more, wielding unfathomable power Thedas has not seen in countless generations...So yes, I am ' upset ', " he snapped. Solas sighed through his nose, suddenly looking exhausted. " ...Anger serves no purpose. We will have to work together, whether we like it or not. " His gaze falls back to the small plate of food in front of him -- an obvious peace offering. ~

~ " ...The gesture is appreciated. We should convene in the morning with the others once tempers have soothed. I suspect they will be loath to listen to me. " ~

@dreadwxlf

Negotiations, in the young Veil Jumper's experience, always went smoothest when prefaced with a peace offering; and the pitiful little flatbread he'd made, accompanied by the dried meat he'd found in the Lighthouse's larder, would have to do. His new companions, still angry about the ritual, hadn't even wanted to show the Dread Wolf any hospitality— but, wherever she was, Urnarseldo knew it was what the Inquisitor would have wanted. Not to mention the news he'd have to break about the dagger he'd lost in the confusion… Though really, the Wolf probably already knew.

Seldo jumped when the door to Solas's study— such as it was— slid open (it'd take him forever to get used to that), but tried to recover just a sliver of dignity, straightening his spine, and stepping inside. He peeked around the corner, brows flicking together as he finally saw the older elf; if not for the headache— and the new weight of both their mistakes on his mind— he could've pretended they were in Skyhold again. He cleared his throat, and stepped into the room, forcing his usual, lop-sided smile. "I haven't seen you since we got here— n-not that I've been walking around much, myself; I s'ppose rocks falling on you does really hurt."

He drew closer carefully— as if he were approaching a feral dog— and set the plate down. "Anyway, I figured even you need to have something to eat. I think." His shoulders fell, and he folded his arms, newly free, behind his back. He drew a long breath; there was no good time to talk about the ritual, really. "About the ritual… are you still… I mean, I know a lot of things went wrong, and you're probably upset…"

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

For: Myndilon :: @roquenxnar Unspecified Muse: Arathorn

   There was a point at which his level of patience had a tendency to just... evaporate. And when that happened, it didn't bode well. Not many people actually managed to push him to that point though and those who did, preferred not to repeat the experience. Provided that they weren't dead that was; this was usually reserved for Orcs and anything or anyone in that category of evil.

Elladan and Elrohir on the other hand?

  They were in a category all of their own. Simply because they liked to try and test his patience more than once. Not that Arathorn had ever lost his temper with them yet. ...Although it wasn't from lack of trying. As much he appreciated the twins for getting him back to Rivendell in time to save his life, he also had a limit.

  A lone slate grey eye gazed out across the Bruinen Ford, hidden from sight. The Dunedain Chieftain wasn't in the slightest bit bothered about making himself known to folk. Elrond knew where to find if he was needed as did some of his kin. But no one else did and he was grateful for that.

  As the last of the sunlight started to fade away, Arathorn was thinking about moving to visit Tornhad. At least, until he heard footsteps nearing and stood up to see who it was. Not at all surprised to see the old elf.

"Myndilon."

[fxrest-bcrn]

🔥 For Ragha, from Myndi! (@roquenxnar)

Ragha sat in front of the fire at the Prancing Pony... or, well, on a table in front of the fire at the Prancing Pony. She'd been dragged along by her brother... though he'd promptly abandoned the young dwarf as he hit it off with a handsome red-headed elf. But she didn't mind... she'd abandon him right back when it got late enough. But for now... there was weak ale and good food.

... and an old elf. A really old elf.

She didn't even know elves could get old. Ragha watched him stumble through the tavern... knock over a few things... then finally settle down on the table nearest her. Her head tilted, and she pulled at her braids thoughtfully... then inched closer.

"Hey... you lost?"

[orcristwielder]

❛  you look like you could use a hand with that.  ❜ from Urnarseldo (@roquenxnar )

•FIRST MEETING PROMPTS• @roquenxnar — currently accepting!

A SINGLE BROW ROSE IN QUESTION BEFORE THE DWARF HAD LOOKED AWAY. Of course, it was understandable that he was stubborn in allowing another to help with anything. It wasn't until he allowed a few moments to pass that his gaze had gone back to Urnarseldo "And what has given you the idea?"