#roquenxnar

[quiisquiliae]

“there were nicer ways to ask that, you know.” From myndilon for kieran! (Veilguard-era!) from @roquenxnar

Eyes widened as Kieran realized his transgression. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean to offend. We were looking at the Nadas Dirthalen all day and-" he stopped, feeling as if he was making excuses, and shook his head. The Nadas Dirthalen required a more forceful approach, people generally didn't.

"My sincere apologies. All I meant to ask was who's on cooking rotation tonight."

[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... ". ~

[thanatologie]

@roquenxnar - "The Circle was never about control. It was about fear."  dragon age starters / accepting

“I'm afraid that was incredibly insensitive of me.  I had, of course, heard of the appalling conditions of the Circle in Kirkwall, so your distaste and avoidance is…Understandable.”  Perhaps more than understandable; there had, of course, been rumors.  Whispers.  A passing about of sordid tales of the horrors that Kirkwall's Circle housed, and with Nevarra and the Free Marches sharing a border, and the (relative) closeness of Kirkwall to Nevarra City…Well.  There had been a small amount of unrest, wondering if it would spread, once news of the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry had reached them.

And then, of course, that business with the mage rebellion, in the south.

Perendale had seen no small amount of trouble, but for the most part…The Grand Necropolis had operated normally.

“My experience with the Circle in Cumberland would likely offer no insight, but rebuttals, I imagine.  I was there but for a relatively short time, before choosing the Mourn Watch.”  

Where Templars are encouraged to leave Necropolis business to the Watchers, who are, by all accounts, far better equipped to deal with it.

[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?"

[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.

[hopedflightarc]

@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."

[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."

[noamuth]

@roquenxnar continued from here (X)

Dalamus observes Belthan's miserable state with mild scrutiny. The older drow's yellowed eyes betray his flagging health, not that it could be kept a secret with his whimpering and groaning and sweating. His voice is weak and painful. He is going to need more than a simple cup of water to replenish everything. Not that Dalamus cares, of course.

"I have ideas," he admits a little too easily, too readily. "Compared to your current state, it might even be a mercy." But he makes no move to touch either of the daggers at his back, his hands and a couple bandaged fingers instead folded in his lap. Even as Belthan shifts and struggles to push himself into a more comfortable position, Dalamus offers no help.

You did not have to bring me water, he says, and Dalamus has half a mind to stand and leave the tent in that instant. The bristling defensiveness is immediate, shoulders tensing, and he is unsure why. Perhaps because Belthan is right--he did not have to bring the water. He could have asked someone else to do it. But he did not. Heat rises to his throat and the tips of his ears in embarrassment.

"Well, I did bring you water, and you are welcome. Sweating like a cave pig and looking more like a damned ghoul every second, you are liable to give Haleth a fright."

[fxrest-bcrn]

✧ for Myndilon!

From Hal!

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[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.

[hopedflightarc]

"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!

[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?"

[stella-sanguis]

@roquenxnar sent: "we're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here." | from Belthan! (roquenxnar)

" TRUE -- but that doesn't mean we have to live like a circle of druids, " Astarion quipped, back turned to Belthan as he sorted through his bag of pilfered treasures. " And I highly doubt the dead villagers are going to miss any of this. " With a grin, he pulls out a gilded chalice wrapped in a bundle of silks -- family heirlooms most likely, judging by the chest he had break open to get them. Clearly, the vampire had no qualms about stealing from the dead.

" YOU can keep sleeping in the dirt if you prefer; I'm going to make the most of what has generously been provided for us. "

[dryadalismagicae]

@roquenxnar || LIKED for a STARTER with Vexx for Runilaros

It's terrible, the sheer force of hammering rain that pelted from the heavens, the deep and vivid rumble of thunder near overhead and the infrequent, startling flashes of lightning; 't was certainly a storm to rival all others and though it had only worn onward for some few hours thus far, 't was clear that it was going to set itself in for the foreseeable evening.

The dainty campfire that was scarce hanging on to its flame within the cut of high winds was all the youthful elf had to try and keep warm; he's tucked beneath an outcrop of rocks, sheltered from the rain and partially from the wind but 't is clear that he doesn't fare well. Soaked through, sodden entirely and evidently half-starved - he struggled to keep himself warm enough to see himself through to the morning.

Exhaustion was rife, sickness festering within his very bones; life has not been kind and where there was one a flame of ferocity and venom was now naught but cold ashes. He used to be so vicious, so intent on fighting for his freedom no matter what it took - - but the road had only gotten more dangerous of late and one youth against the world never had good statistics.

He's half asleep against the rock wall when he hears bootsteps approaching, the slosh of silt beneath every step alerting him first. Slow to move, he slinks a hand to his side where a dagger lay and attempted to summon every ilm of strength he did and didn't have in order to retaliate if needed;

"Fuck off n' leave me alone if y' value y' life-" He spits, managing to heave himself to a crouch, brows furrowed. He's only slight, but he's learned to be fast, how to manipulate situations to an advantage despite stature and lack of strength.

[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.