The Winter's Queen [Magus AU]

[Carver Amell]

There's a sense of pulling back, of getting quieter. Maybe she did. But she never tried to understand me, why should I try to understand her? No, don't be a prat, Carver. You can do better than that. It just hurts so much, all the time. Coming home to that dismal little hovel and-- His thoughts break off with a similar wave of pain. I guess I can move now. Mother's not around to keep me there. I'm alone.

[Tethras Clan]

~...honestly, yeah. Staying there- if it's even still intact and livable- would be bad. Honestly, I'm hoping to convince Zevran to go with Isabela when she leaves town after all this.~ He hums thoughtfully. ~Actually, I can nudge the lot of you towards some hidden stashes, pay for all of you to get out of here. Consider it a reward slash inheritance.~

[Carver Amell]

I should move to Glaley. I hear they respect martial prowess there -- and nobody there has ever met either of my sisters. They won't be looking at me as 'the failure Hawke'. They'll be seeing me, really me. 

[Tethras Clan]

~...I can't say that's entirely a terrible idea. Not a fan of Glaley, specifically, too... noble-focused, commoners get trod on a lot and they have too many whiffs of slavery- but, yeah, getting your own place in a new place sounds good for you. Might consider Sweetwater- given how much farmland they have, they're always looking for guards willing to patrol. A bit boring for my tastes but full of good, down to earth folks from most accounts.~

[Carver Amell]

More farms, exactly what I always wanted. Though, to be fair, I won't have to sneak out to the cornfield to fumble through some kisses and petting, I'll have my own place for sex. And I know what I'm doing now. I mean, I never, what, that was hypothetical.

[Tethras Clan]

~Gods, new topic please,~ Varric says, horrified. ~What languages do you speak? Any exposure to non-human or elf cultures? What's your view on divine magic or piety in general?~

[Carver Amell]

What? Uh, elven, yeah. I speak elven. I mean obviously, I wasn't going to let Bethany and Marian have their own secret language without involving me. 

[Theta "T" Roidmet]

Lelldorin's church is intact, with catfolk surrounding it, challenging them as they approach -- though, as it's pretty clear they're not undead, they're let through pretty easily. The sanctuary is a flurry of activity: catfolk and humans board up the windows, move pews aside to make room for cots, and generally transform the humble sanctuary into a place of refuge for those who have managed to gather. It's the busiest Varric's ever seen the place, with good reason. 

In the thick of it all, skulking about, is a half-elf with short dark hair and a scar running down the side of her face. She's resting one hand on a large, furred wolf as she bandages her own left ankle with a scowl. As they enter, she finishes, standing on it with a small wince, and turns her attention toward them. "More refugees?" 

[Tethras Clan]

"Only after a fashion," Zevran replies easily. "We're looking to establish a safe base and possibly recruit a few more hands to make a push into the necro-zone and try and take out the lich at the heart of it."

Well, that's bold as brass.

[Theta "T" Roidmet]

She studies him for a moment, then smirks a little. "Alright, I like you. This way." She turns, her wolf at her side as she leads them through the sanctuary and back toward the rectory built into the back, where they find a surprisingly homey little kitchen. Of course, the stove is filled with pots of water boiling -- bandages need sanitizing, and so do tools. The table is covered with various kitchen goods from the larder, and a couple of catfolk are heading down into the larder with sacks of potatoes and dried beans scavenged from somewhere. 

[NPCs]

In the middle of all this is a massive canine, easily twice the size of the two mabari with them. Rich golden fur and a heavy ruff of fur around his neck gives an impression- to Varric and Helene at least- of an oversized lion. The faintly glowing silver eyes that have more awareness than even the mabari puts lie to the idea of thinking this just an animal. On the other side of the kitchen, an elderly man enters the room as he gives a flowing set of orders to a gaggle of younglings following after him, acting as runners.

[Tethras Clan]

~That would be Father Lelldorin. Don't let the bum leg throw you- like as not, he can take anyone of us in a fight. Worked as a sceleratii hunter for four decades, one of the highest kill counts of anyone alive,~ Varric informs Carver. ~And the beast over there is a foo dog. Basically an aasimar dog but... huge.~

[Theta "T" Roidmet]

"Yo, Father L," T says, casually. "Found some adventurers, say they want to take out a Lich and stop the end of the world and all." Implied, though probably only recognized by Lelldorin, is the and I want to go with them; she's been asking about stopping the problem rather than just doing what they can to shield people since basically hour one.

[NPCs]

The priest turns to glance at them, nodding as if to acknowledge he heard, but continues to instruct two of the younglings about how to ready one of the rooms for medical energies. Man seems pretty busy...

[Carver Amell]

"Father Lelldorin, I presume? The famous sceleratii hunter?" Carver actually manages to sound impressed. "Just the man we need to see. Can we have a word alone?"