Lace Harding

private & associated with thedasfm

[lacecndleather]

{   florence pugh. cisfemale. she/her   }     hail,  inquisitor,  and  well  met!   have  you  met  the  new  arrival?   LACE HARDING is  a  TWENTY–FIVE  old  [ surface ] DWARF  from  [ fereldan ].   She  now  resides  in   SKYHOLD  and  works  as  a(n)  LEAD SCOUT  —   i’ve  heard  it’s  lovely  there  this  time  of  year.   on  the  battlefield,   [ She ]  use(s)  [ her ] skills  as  a ROGUE  in  the  service  of  the  INQUISITION.   in  the  war,  [ she ]  supported  the  [ mages ]  and  now  [ supports ]  the  inquisition,   which  makes  sense,   as  [ she ] can  be  quite  [ optimistic ]  and  [ rash ].   everyone  keep  your  wits  about  you,   now   —   rumor  has  it  that  [ Lace ] once  [ sang the ballad of nuggins while making direct eye contact with leliana ]

BIOGRAHY | PINTEREST | SPOTIFY | THREADS

[lladastra]

“It must have been built with dedication and care,” Yvette murmured, gaze drifting over Skyhold’s stonework as though she could feel the ghosts of hands that had shaped it. “Otherwise it would never have endured the way it has. Places only cling to life like this when someone loved them enough to make them last.” A soft breath left her, warm with conviction. “With the right touch, I think the inquisition can restore it to its former glory. Or perhaps even give it something better. Though…” her eyes slid back to Lace, a spark of playfulness and curiosity threading through them, “I have heard whispers that Lady Lace is hardly ever at home base for long. A woman in motion, they say. Tell me, what is the most impressive sight you’ve seen so far on your travels?”

Her expression shifted the instant garlands were mentioned. Yvette’s eyes widened, face turning contemplative as she began to picture them: greenery sweeping like soft strokes of paint across the vaulted space of Skyhold’s grand hall. “Garlands?” she echoed, almost reverent. “Oh, that would be… gorgeous.” She tilted her head, calculating. “But do we even have enough greenery? These pines are stubborn and sparse, but if we could gather enough branches… the scent alone would make the hall feel alive. It would give the place a rustic charm it desperately needs.” Her lips curved, warm and sincere. “The celebration you described... your mother’s garlands lit by candlelight. it must have looked positively magical.”

A light chuckle slipped from her, soft as silk, laughter twinkling in her chest. “We Montilyet sisters may be accustomed to certain standards, Some high and others impossibly high, but our mother made sure realism was hammered into us early.” She tipped her head, smile growing fond. “The Inquisitor deserves a grand affair, certainly. But we must work with what this frozen mountain fortress offers us."

[lacecndleather]

The way Yvette spoke about Skyhold…it was as if she were sketching its history, taking what they could see on the surface and giving each brick and blade of grass a reason to exist. It was a beautiful way to view the world. “A woman in motion is perhaps the truest descriptor I’ve received,” Lace chuckled softly. “I don’t think I was ever destined for the life of a demure Fereldan housewife, no matter what my ma’s dreams for me were.”

“Most impressive sight?” Lace continued. “I think it might have been back at Haven. We were scouting for areas that might have a good lumber supply and came across a small glen. Most people on their pilgrimages don’t leave the road, right? So this place felt untouched.” A soft smile appeared and she could almost feel the cold brush of wind against her face, the sharp cut of each breath. “It was..serene. It was against a sheer stone face and the snow glittered like jewels. I’d never seen anything like it before.”

Did that place still exist? Had the explosion at Haven reached that far or had Corypheus’ armies trampled through, with no regard for the beauty that they destroyed with each step? She felt a pang in her chest and she hoped, hoped that it had remained untouched and beautiful in this world that seemed to be falling apart around them. 

“My ma would be honoured if her decorations even slightly inspired tonight’s events.” At this, Lace’s smile turned into a full grin. “We could probably gather enough boughs to at least decorate above the fireplaces. I’d wager the heat would help spread their fresh smell throughout the hall, without needing to completely deforest the area.”

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝔹𝔼ℝℕ𝔸ℝ𝔻  𝕍𝔸𝕊𝕂𝕀ℝ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

"𝙰  𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃  𝚂𝚄𝙱𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃?"   𝙷𝙴  𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙴𝚂;   𝙷𝙴'𝚂  𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽  𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶  an  awful  lot  of  that,   but  this  whole  thing  has  got  him  speechless.   a  very,   very  rare  occasion  to  find  something  the  good  warden  doesn't  have  a  strong  opinion  on.   "it's  still  not  a  bad  idea,"   he  muses,   setting  the  first  bottle  down  and  reaching  for  another.   "how  old  do  you  think  this  stuff  is?"   one  question  would  only  beget  a  million  more:   who  does  this  belong  to,   why  was  it  left  here,   do  we  think  it's  cursed.   all  the  normal  questions  one  has  during  the  exploration  of  an  ancient  stronghold.   which,   to  be  fair,   isn't  exactly  an  uncommon  event  for  either  of  them.   "just  because  it  smells  fine  doesn't  mean  it  is  fine."   looking  from  scout  harding  to  the  bottle  and  then  back,   he  gestures  with  a  nod  of  his  head  to  hand  the  bottle  over  to  him.   "what  if  it  makes  the  drinker  hallucinate,   huh?   or  if  it's  tainted  or  got  lyrium  in  it,   what  then?"

[lacecndleather]

“Well then, we’d best choose our target carefully, hmm?” Lace wasn’t really serious and the warden wasn’t wrong about all the potential issues with the bottles. Though, it still didn’t make sense to her. Why would someone go to the extra effort to hide away crates of bottles if they were tainted or had lyrium in them? Wouldn’t they just dump everything? 

Picking up the bottom part of her already dusty tunic, she began to wipe down the bottle to see if there were any more clues. There was no traditional label but as she held the bottle up to the light, she was able to see some sort of script. “Does this look familiar to you?” she asked, offering the bottle to the Warden. “It looks ancient but I don’t think it’s a script I’ve seen before. 

[lacecndleather]

Lace raised an eyebrow at Leliana’s comment. If the commander also struggled with the height, shouldn’t he request an office closer to his troops and the ground? There was nothing he had to prove - the fact that he was here and had survived this long surely was enough to show he was above fear? While these thoughts were quick to bubble to the surface, Lace had enough practice and awareness to know that people were not the most rational. Besides, who was she to judge? She, who was still standing on the battlement with the drop mere feet away. 

“Your confidence does me a great honour my lady,” Lace murmured, fighting off the soft blush that was rising to her cheeks. It was one thing to be out in the field and receive missives from Leliana, it was another to have her truly acknowledge her contribution. 

“And I’m afraid I’m reaching my limit with these heights,” she said with a sheepish grin, a red tint staining her cheeks despite her best efforts. “I believe I shall go and join in with the people below and see where I may help best.” Lace bowed towards Leliana and began to head for the stairs. “I hope to see you at least once on the dancefloor my lady!”

[veilwhcsper]

“then  go,”  leliana  said,  a  soft  chuckle  warming  her  words  as  lace’s  blush  deepened.  “the  ground  will  welcome  you  far  more  kindly  than  these  walls  ever  will.”  she  offered  no  judgment,  only  understanding  —  the  sort  that  came  from  years  of  watching  people  find  their  place,  whether  in  shadow  or  in  light.  as  lace  stepped  toward  the  stairs,  leliana  inclined  her  head  in  return,  the  gesture  small  but  sincere.  “your  presence  below  will  be  worth  more  than  your  discomfort  up  here.  the  inquisition  is  fortunate  to  have  your  hands  and  your  instinct.” the  mention  of  dancing  drew  a  rare,  genuine  smile  from  her.  “i  make  no  promises,”  she  called  after  her,  the  wind  almost  stealing  the  words,  “but  if  the  music  is  kind  and  the  night  merciful,  you  may  yet  catch  me  among  the  crowd.”  she  watched  the  dwarf  descend,  her  cloak  trailing  behind  her  like  a  ribbon  of  deep  red  in  the  torchlight.  once  lace’s  footsteps  faded,  leliana  turned  her  eyes  back  to  the  courtyard  —  the  glow,  the  noise,  the  living  mess  of  people  building  something  fragile  and  new. “goodnight,  lace,”  she  murmured,  more  to  the  wind  than  to  the  empty  wall  beside  her.  “may  your  feet  stay  steady,  wherever  they  carry  you.”

[lacecndleather]

END.

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝕐𝕊𝕆𝕃𝔻𝔼  𝔼𝕄𝕄𝔼𝕃𝔸𝕀ℕ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

"𝙰𝙷,   𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴  𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴  𝙼𝙴,   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙺  𝚈𝙾𝚄!"   ysolde  lets  out  a  little  gush  of  gratitude  as  half  the  weight  leaves  her.   she  immediately  begins  walking  again,   and  lets  out  a  hearty  laugh  over  her  shoulder.   "amazing!   how  wonderful,   thank  you,   scout  harding."   another  laugh  at  the  mental  image  of  her  flying  herself  up  the  stone  walls  of  skyhold.   "not  me,   no.   that  would  certainly  be  a  display  to  put  on   —   all  the  nobles  would  think  the  inquisition  is  little  more  than  some  kind  of  sideshow  carnival."   which  admittedly  wouldn't  be  the  worst  thing  in  the  world,   though  she  knows  she'd  disagree  in  a  less  playful  conversation.   "no,   just  flying  the  banners  up  there.   one  of  the  mages   —   "   because,   of  course,   she's  not  one  of  them.   "put  some  sticking  runes  on  the  backs  of  all  these  so  they  should  hold  on  their  own  once  i  can   —   get  them  in  place."

[lacecndleather]

"Maybe when this is all over, we can turn the Inquisition into a carnival,," Lace joked. Magic was truly amazing. The idea that a mage could simply cast a spell with a quick design and a wave of the hand was the stuff of stories. If it wasn’t for the risk of abominations, Lace could have wished for a magic of her own. It certainly would make camping in the woods that much easier if she could conjure flame or heal a wound without needing supplies. 

Happy to trail just behind Eve, Lace didn’t pay much attention to the weight in her arms, preferring to focus on the banners that began to float above her. “How was your trip in from Crestwood? I’ve heard the bandits are growing bolder, now that the locals are distracted by the rifts.” 

[veilwhcsper]

“then  it  is  fortunate  the  fade  leaves  you  in  peace,”  leliana  said,  her  tone  almost  wistful.  “too  many  of  us  wake  from  dreams  more  exhausted  than  when  we  closed  our  eyes.”  her  gaze  lingered  on  the  horizon  for  a  moment  before  she  looked  back  to  lace,  a  small  smile  curving  her  lips.  “rest,  true  rest,  is  rarer  than  gold.”  she  listened  without  interruption,  only  nodding  once  as  the  dwarf  spoke  of  her  unease.  “you  would  be  surprised  how  many  here  share  that  fear,”  she  said  gently.  “soldiers,  mages,  even  the  commander  himself.  the  walls  are  high,  and  the  drop  unforgiving,  but  fear  is  not  weakness.  it  is  a  reminder  of  how  much  we  still  wish  to  live.” her  eyes  softened  with  quiet  amusement  and  a  soft  smile  appeared  at  lace’s  hurried  reassurance.  “no  one  doubts  your  courage,”  she  said.  “and  i  would  never  ask  anyone  to  silence  their  instincts  for  pride.  survey  from  where  you  can,  and  when  you  must  climb,  take  your  time.  steady  feet  are  worth  more  than  reckless  wings.”  a  gust  of  wind  swept  past  them,  tugging  at  her  cloak.  she  turned  her  gaze  back  toward  the  courtyard,  where  torchlight  flickered  against  the  stone.  “we  all  have  our  limits,  lace,”  she  added  softly.  “wisdom  lies  in  knowing  them,  and  in  choosing  when  to  test  them.”

[lacecndleather]

Lace raised an eyebrow at Leliana’s comment. If the commander also struggled with the height, shouldn’t he request an office closer to his troops and the ground? There was nothing he had to prove - the fact that he was here and had survived this long surely was enough to show he was above fear? While these thoughts were quick to bubble to the surface, Lace had enough practice and awareness to know that people were not the most rational. Besides, who was she to judge? She, who was still standing on the battlement with the drop mere feet away. 

“Your confidence does me a great honour my lady,” Lace murmured, fighting off the soft blush that was rising to her cheeks. It was one thing to be out in the field and receive missives from Leliana, it was another to have her truly acknowledge her contribution. 

“And I’m afraid I’m reaching my limit with these heights,” she said with a sheepish grin, a red tint staining her cheeks despite her best efforts. “I believe I shall go and join in with the people below and see where I may help best.” Lace bowed towards Leliana and began to head for the stairs. “I hope to see you at least once on the dancefloor my lady!”

[thebriarskiss]

Where: The Heralds Rest When: 16 solace 9:41 Dragon, Afternoon Who: Zevran & Lace Status: closed starter for @lacecndleather

Zevran had spent the morning being lost in the upper parts of the castle. He'd spent the night with some inquisition solider who's name Zevran had already forgotten and his midnight tryst became a morning challenge of trying to find his way down to the great hall.

He'd had long morning duties instructing some not so promising green recruits how to use a knife. He'd learned that he was not a teacher and had no idea how to instruct someone that killing didn't come naturally to at all. He'd been glad when Lace showed up to drag him away for lunch. No doubt she'd seen from afar his frustrated expression with her sharp eyes.

He usually liked being in the tavern but since they moved up here from Haven, Maryden Halewell's set list had been very... love sick. Zevran usually liked a good love ballad but he couldn't help but think that seven songs in a row was a bit much for this early in the day. Lace didn't want to hear him complain about the training so he instead decided to bring up poor Maryden's songs.

"Lace, do you perhaps think poor Maryden is going through something?" He dipped his bread in to his broth. "I hope she is not singing like this during the party. Maker's breath imagine if the impression we make is of heart broken losers. My reputation would never recover."

[lacecndleather]

Lace was proud to be part of the Inquisition, proud to be part of a group that was going to make a difference in the world. But of course, an organization like theirs couldn't succeed without sovereigns and unfortunately, those most frequently came from noble families, eager for a show. She’d been practicing alongside the other inquisition archers, trying to ignore the ‘helpful’ remarks the nobility were so eager to share (if she heard another muttered comment about the size of her bow compared to herself, she was going to accidently loose an arrow into the watching crowd).

She and the other archers were finally freed an hour or so later and as she was heading towards the Herald’s Rest, Lace saw a very familiar feeling of frustration reflected in Zevran’s eyes. With a wink towards the exhausted recruits, she dragged him alongside her for a much needed break. 

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Lace focused on Maryden and her admittedly repetitive songs. “Maker I hope not - the last thing we need is a sudden crop of Inquisition babies showing up in nine months. Or drunks crying into their drinks once most have gone to bed.”

After a quick scan of the room, Lace’s eyes landed on a new templar recruit that was decidedly not looking in Maryden’s direction. “Do you think it’s him?” she asked, amusedly indicating towards the tense boy.

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝔹𝔼ℝℕ𝔸ℝ𝔻  𝕍𝔸𝕊𝕂𝕀ℝ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

"𝙷𝙾𝙻𝚈  𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚃,"   𝙷𝙴  𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝙸𝙽  𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙴𝚁  𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙵.   his  jaw  physically  drops  open  as  the  wall  gives  way  and  slides  into  itself,   stones  scraping  against  each  other  as  dust  shakes  loose  and  flies  into  the  open  air.   she  lurches  forward,   and  he  instinctually  moves  to  help  steady  her.   they  step  into  the  small  space  together,   and  he  erupts  into  coughs,   waving  a  calloused  hand  in  front  of  his  face  with  a  furrowed  brow.   "kid,   if  i  hadn't  just  watched  that  happen,   i'd  have  never  believed  you."   cautiously,   he  prods  at  a  crate   —   it  seems  sturdy  enough.   for  now,   anyway.   with  a  mischievous  glance  to  scout  harding,   skar  plucks  a  dark  bottle  of  mystery  liquid  and  holds  it  aloft,   peering  inside.   "i  don't  want  to  assume  it's  liquor,   but  you  won't  catch  me  taste-testing  this  stuff,   neither."

[lacecndleather]

"We need a test subject," Lace agreed, excitedly pulling out a couple more bottles. This kind of thing happened in stories - she'd never really expected to find anything. Smoothing away the dust from the label, she tried to make out what it said but the script was foreign to her. "Or someone who can read whatever language this is." She paused, quickly counting the number of crates in the room. Definitely more potential alcohol than the missing four barrels of sherry.

"If this wasn't such an important event, I'd suggest leaving it out on a table and seeing what happened to whoever decided to drink it..." Pulling out a small knife, Lace dug it into the soft cork and wiggled until it released with a pop! She sniffed carefully, face pre-emptively scrunched up. "It smells...fine? I think this crate might be wine - Lady Josephine or Leliana would know for sure. Maybe even Zevran."

[lladastra]

Yvette had had her practice in being light-footed, a habit from years spent navigating both ballroom floors and shadowed corridors. It kept her steps along the battlements barely more than whispers against the stone. Dawn had barely broken, painting the peaks beyond the wall in an intricate pale gold as most of Skyhold still slumbered beneath its heavy furs and heavier exhaustion. She hadn’t intended to wander this far; rest had simply refused to find her again. It rarely did.

The dwarven woman’s voice reached her before Yvette had caught sight of her. The remark earned a faint smile from the Antivan, something soft and genuine curving the edges of her mouth. “Rest and I have never been on particularly good terms, I’m afraid,” she admitted lightly, stepping into a strip of thin morning light. Her breath rose in small white clouds. “But I promise you’ll find me down there soon enough. I’ve made it a personal mission to assist in the preparations in the best way I can. Someone must ensure the gala doesn’t look like a soldier’s gathering with candles thrown about for good measure.” Her tone was teasing, but not unkind. “I might be one of the few here who has attended more than one such festive affair in various locations.”

Her gaze drifted out over the courtyard below, where servants and soldiers alike moved almost as if they performed a carefully practiced choreography. “The hall could use a touch more warmth before the festivities begin. A little color, a little life. Skyhold deserves to look like a place reborn, don’t you think?”

[lacecndleather]

Having known Lady Josephine now for several months, it was easy enough for Lace to have picked out her sister when she arrived at Skyhold. She hadn’t been to Antiva before but if the sisters were any indication, Lace would surely be overwhelmed by the beauty of both its land and its people. “I couldn’t agree more my lady. It has good bones and has clearly stood the test of time but I think it deserves some repairs and love to bring it back to, what I’m sure was, a beautiful place.” 

She stepped a little further from the edge, shoulders relaxing a hair as she lost sight of the grass below. “I have to admit, the biggest party I’ve been to before this was for my Uncle Duilan. My ma wove these gigantic garlands and strung them from our home to the barn, with a few candles to illuminate the area once night fell.” 

It had been the first nameday celebration since they returned from Denerim and while they hadn’t had much, her ma had made sure that their place was fit to welcome the Queen Anora herself. Maker but she missed her ma something fierce. “A far cry from what I imagine Lady Josephine and yourself have planned to celebrate the new Inquisitor.”

[veilwhcsper]

the  sound  of  the  dwarf’s  voice  drew  leliana’s  attention  before  the  words  themselves  did.  she  had  been  walking  the  wall  for  the  solitude  it  offered,  hands  clasped  loosely  behind  her  back,  her  mind  already  half  tangled  in  plans  for  the  coming  days.  “rest  is  a  luxury  few  of  us  seem  willing  to  take,”  she  said  as  she  came  to  stand  beside  lace,  her  gaze  following  the  same  line  down  toward  the  courtyard  below.  “even  when  we  have  the  time,  the  mind  insists  on  wandering  back  to  work.” for  a  moment,  she  was  quiet.  the  wind  caught  at  her  hair,  carrying  the  faint  scent  of  candle  wax  and  smoke  from  below.  “the  view  can  be  daunting,”  she  added  softly,  glancing  at  lace.  “but  it  helps,  sometimes,  to  look  at  things  from  above.  you  see  the  order  in  the  chaos.  all  those  people,  all  that  noise,   it  has  purpose,  even  if  it  feels  overwhelming.”  her  smile  was  small  but  sincere.  “and  if  the  height  makes  you  uneasy,  there  is  no  shame  in  returning  to  solid  ground.  the  world  is  large  enough  for  both  kinds  of  courage.”

[lacecndleather]

Straightening subtly, Lace nodded as the spymaster approached. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve always been happy to never dream. I couldn’t imagine laying down to rest and then having to relive my worries in the fade.” The darkness was a comfort, a promise of rest and peace even when the waking world was on fire. Sometimes literally. 

“Daunting is putting it mildly,” Lace replied, her expression becoming slightly strained as she glanced back towards the ground. She’d lived on the surface all her life and yet, there was some strand of dwarven ancestry that burned in her veins and promised only horrors if she climbed too high.

“Not that I would ever pass over an area due to the height,” she continued with a hurried reassurance, suddenly worried that Leliana might think her unable to perform her duties. “It just…might take me a little bit longer to survey.” 

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝕐𝕊𝕆𝕃𝔻𝔼  𝔼𝕄𝕄𝔼𝕃𝔸𝕀ℕ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙰  𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷,   𝙴𝚅𝙴  𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂  to  her  friend.   smile  reaches  all  the  way  to  her  eyes  as  they  crinkle  with  warmth.   "well,   you  know  me.   i  gave  myself  a  task."   she  makes  an  attempt  to  hold  up  the  armfuls  of  cloth,   but  it's  too  heavy  to  do  much  more  than  gesture  with  it.   "i'm  hanging  banners!   the  herald   —   "   she  catches  herself,   and  joyful  smile  only  grows  wider.   "i'm  sorry,   the  inquisitor   —   "   it  so  obviously  gives  her  an  immense  pleasure  to  refer  to  trevelyan  by  his  new  title.   "just  picked  these  out  himself."   head  and  shoulders  waggle  in  a  girlish  display  of  glee.   "want  to  keep  me  company?   i'm  getting  a  little   —   you  know  what  out  of  my  system  before  there's  too  many  people  around."   she  shifts  the  weight  of  the  heraldry  around   —   she's  been  standing  in  one  place  for  too  long  now.   “i'm  flying  them  up  and  then  making  them  stick  to  the  stone.   i  thought  it  would  be  better  than  putting  anyone  on  a  ladder.   could  get  hurt.”

[lacecndleather]

“Of course you did,” Lace said warmly, moving forward to help Eve with the banners and take more than half of the pile into her arms. The fabric was heavy in her arms but soft, a better quality than she’d have thought the Inquisition could afford at this time. But of course, with visitors coming from all over, she supposed the optics were  more important than reality. Especially if these were hand chosen by the Inquisitor himself. 

“I’d be honoured to join you on your task - Eve and Lace, saving one life at a time from the dangers of ladders!” There was only enthusiasm in her tone, with no intention of mockery. “Now, are you just flying up the banners or are you flying yourself up and then sticking them to the stone? Can you fly yourself?” The question caught her off guard. “That would be more terrifying than a ladder I’d think.”

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝔹𝔼ℝℕ𝔸ℝ𝔻  𝕍𝔸𝕊𝕂𝕀ℝ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂  𝚂𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙻  𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺  𝙶𝙾𝙴𝚂  𝙸𝙽  𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙴𝙰𝚁  and  out  the  other  as  they  head  back  down  the  unforgiving  stone  steps.   he  holds  one  hand  out  to  the  wall  to  steady  himself  as  he  limps  down  the  stairs.   "what  can  i  say,   i'm  the  guy  they  call  to  do  the  jobs  no  one  else  wants."   he  stops  in  the  center  of  the  chamber  and  holds  his  arms  out   —   see?   just  as  he's  about  to  make  a  quip  about  her  different  perspective,   she  speaks  first,   and  it  actually  manages  to  shut  him  up.   he's  not  a  stupid  man,   as  much  as  he  might  seem  it  at  times.   he  can  immediately  read  the  seriousness  in  her  demeanor,   and  he  closes  his  mouth  without  a  word.   a  concession,   but  also  a  dare.   this  better  be  good.   as  she  starts  running  her  hand  along  the  wall,   eyes  narrow.   he's  heard  of  stone  sense,   but  never  had  the  opportunity  to  witness  it.   at  least,   that's  what  he  assumes  is  happening.   she  could  just  be  insane.

[lacecndleather]

She was definitely pulling this attempt out of her ass. Partly because it was funny to pretend to be a mysterious dwarf to other non-dwarves and partly because this was an old abandoned castle. There had to be secrets! Her calloused fingers ran over the rough stone and gently pushed at any stone that looked particularly suspicious. Over halfway down the wall, now thoroughly unpresentable to the gala attendees, Lace felt one of the stones give beneath her touch with a soft click. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, stumbling forward in disbelief as the wall she was leaning against began to fold away. Catching herself against a crate that hadn’t been touched in centuries, Lace turned back to the Warden (Skar! That was his name), just to make sure she hadn’t hit her head. 

In front of her was a small room, roughly a few square meters wide. Everything was covered in a  thick and greasy layer of dust but Lace was still able to make out the shape of bottles in a couple of the wood crates. “You’re seeing this too, right?” 

[virabelascn]

Skyhold is a series of security nightmares that are going to take ages to fully find and patch out. Just from her perch on the battlements, she can see a dozen gaps large enough for an enemy battalion to fit through, which feels unwise.

Alas, everyone ignores the elf, and thus the party goes forward. In the Imperium, that would be considered a gilded invitation for an assassination. She's heard more than once that she's too paranoid; perhaps everyone else isn't paranoid enough.

She's no guard, but she's good at watching and listening and blowing things up when necessary. So she's camped herself in an optimal position to watch a particularly egregious section of the fortress, where a quarter of the wall has crumbled away to nothing.

"What's that saying? No rest for something or other?" This is her task, anyway. Self-appointed, maybe, but appointed nonetheless. She gestures with the edge of her staff toward the gap in the stone. "You see that hole? Leads into the corridor right off the hall. Ideal spot for someone to infiltrate, especially with an entire army's guard down. I'm observing." There's no such thing as too careful, after all. Sulevin knows enough about Harding to know that she could appreciate the caution, probably. "I would figure you'd be down there, in the thick of planning."

[lacecndleather]

Following the direction that Sulevin indicated, Lace’s eyes narrowed. While she hoped that the gala would go off without a problem, she wasn’t so naive to think that nothing could happen. The Inquisition’s position with Thedas was still shaky at best and their enemies would surely view it as a prime opportunity to attack. “Y’know, I bet if you pointed it out to Sera, you wouldn’t have to watch it anymore. I’m sure she has a bunch of goodies that could be planted there for anyone unfortunate enough to try and sneak through it.” 

Bees or pitch or some sort of feather and tar trap. Lace hadn’t known the young woman for too long, but the chaotic energy she radiated was terrifying. 

“I’ll be down there soon enough,” she said, carefully stepping back from the ledge. “I’m pretty sure even we can’t hide from what Lady Josephine has been planning. Especially if Leliana has been pulled in.” While Lace’s tone was light, there was a thread of real concern when mentioning Leliana. It had been months working for her and still, that woman was scarier than the Breach itself. “Did you pick yourself out a pretty outfit for tonight?”

[insaticte]

In spite of the early hour, Cullen is already waist-deep in errands, having spent the better part of the last few days trying to coordinate the removal of the worst of the rubble from Skyhold before the Herald’s guests arrive. He can’t help but think that there are more important things the Inquisition could be spending their resources on, but he had been outvoted at the meeting. He consoles himself with the hope that the celebrations will, at least, be good for morale.

He is on his way back to the tower he has claimed as his office when he encounters Lace Harding, and while he nods politely at her as he passes, he doesn’t come to a stop until he hears her voice. “Well, I think that would be rather unfair of me, given the number of tasks I personally assign to people,” he comments with a soft huff of not-quite-laughter, “And the more of us that contribute, the more quickly this will be over, so we can get back to the things that matter.”

“And what of you, Scout Harding? Are you on assignment, or are you taking the opportunity to rest?”

[lacecndleather]

“I think if you didn’t assign tasks ser, it would be a cause for concern even greater than this gala,” Lace commented with a touch of cheek. Though the attack on Haven and the trek to Skyhold was now in the past, the effects were still far reaching. She was grateful that dreams couldn’t reach her when she slept, but the screams and crying from her bunkmates was just as bad. With how many hours the council was putting in, Lace was sure that the Commander was running on even less sleep than she was, with her mere four hours.

“I am assignment free for now Commander, if there’s something I can do to help out.” Lace offers an easy smile, putting her concern to the side. Many hands made light work after all and if she stared over the edge much longer, she might contribute to the Skyhold’s mess. 

[stcadfast]

she  took  a  deep  breath  through  her  nose,  held  it  for  a  moment  and  let  it  out  through  her  mouth.  a  way  to  ground  her.  today  would  be  a  busy  day  and  she  thought  that  she  would  need  a  moment  of  peace  to  get  her  through.  she  hadn't  realised  that  she  wasn't  the  only  one  on  the  battlements.

lyra  glanced  to  the  person  nearby.  she  wondered  about  heading  over  or  not  ...  ultimately  deciding  that  this  time  was  to  get  to  know  people,  to  speak  to  those  new.

a  small  smile  slipped  onto  her  lips  as  she  realised  that  the  other  seemed  to  think  similarly  to  her.  "  i  have  a  few  tasks  that  i  need  to  sort  but  i  will  get  to  them  soon.  i  was  just  --  "  she  took  another  deep  breath,  "  taking  a  moment  before  the  chaos.  what's  your  excuse?  "

[lacecndleather]

Lace nodded along with her words. “Something similar - it’s easy enough to joke about but there is something comfortable with getting the lay of the land before diving into the chaos.” After Haven, after the long and cold trek to Skyhold, Lace would happily prepare for a hundred galas if it meant that they were safe (even temporarily) for the moment. 

“Scout Harding,” she offered unprompted, assessing the other woman. Lace had been in and out of Haven as needed but she didn’t think they’d met before. Near the end, it seemed that Haven was full to the bursting and she had been taking any opportunity to go out and scout. “It’s always nice to meet a fellow early riser.”  

[theialen]

⋰⏆◝ﾉ     𝔹𝔼ℝℕ𝔸ℝ𝔻  𝕍𝔸𝕊𝕂𝔸ℝ     ⤐     lace  harding  .

"𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙽."   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙰  𝙶𝚁𝚄𝙽𝚃,   𝚂𝙺𝙰𝚁  deposits  the  cask  onto  the  forming  pile,   waiting  to  be  tapped.   "that  was  my  eighth  time  down  there."   he  rubs  a  calloused  hand  across  his  weary  face,   smearing  grime  and  thick,   mildewy  dust  across  a  rough  forehead.   the  sweat  makes  it  stick.   "now,   i  have  one  more  trip  to  make.   you  want  to  double  check  my  work,   you  can  come  with  me  and  look  for  yourself."   it  sounds  much  more  gruff  than  he  means  it.   she's  probably  not  used  to  that  yet.   he's  done  his  part  to  help  from  the  moment  he  arrived,   but  no  one  has  been  in  skyhold  long.   he  actually  doesn't  mind  her:   she's  scrappy,   strong.   seems  like  she's  got  a  good  head  on  her  shoulders.   but  this  orlesian  nonsense   —   "and  if  lady  josephine  has  a  complaint,   then  she's  more  than  welcome  to  explore  the  cellars  herself."   he  takes  a  deep  breath  in,   lets  it  out  with  a  clenched  jaw,   and  gestures  back  towards  the  stairs.   “after  you.”

[lacecndleather]

Taking his comments in stride, Lace shrugged. “Sounds good to me! And who knows,” she commented back at Warden…Vassure? Score? She should know it but it had been busy and she had been studying what maps they had found so far, not memorizing names. “Maybe I can offer a different perspective.” 

Stepping down into the cellar, she fought back a cough and lost as she breathed in decades of dust and grime. “Maker, no wonder you don’t want to spend time down here.” Once she could breathe again, Lace glanced around in dismay. She had hoped that the Warden had just missed four barrels of sherry but if the near empty room was anything to go by, then Lady Josephine’s list was wrong.

“Alright, what you’re going to see next is a strategy used by only the wisest of dwarves. Whatever happens next, you can never tell anyone.” Lace fixed her gaze with his, an expression of the most serious nature. Giving a sharp nod, she then moved to a corner and with a deep breath, started to run her fingers and body against the worn stone, without a care for the mess gathering on her clothes. 

[theialen]

𝐖𝐇𝐎:              bernard  vaskir,     open  to  all 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄:         skyhold  main  hall 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍:           15  solace,   9:41  dragon,   late  afternoon

"𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈  𝚃𝙾  𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃."   𝙷𝙴'𝚂  𝙽𝙾𝚃  𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈.   skar  emerges  from  the  cellars  with  a  large  wooden  cask  slung  precariously  over  his  shoulder,   one  sturdy  arm  wrapped  around  the  perfumed  barrel,   scent  of  spiced  citrus  radiating  from  it  and  almost  strong  enough  to  cover  up  the  stench  of  cheap  booze.   "no  sherry  to  be  found."   he  takes  a  few  steps  back  towards  the  chatter  of  raised  voices  in  the  hall  with  little  regard  for  if  the  inquirer  follows  him  or  not.   "this  tastes  almost  like  whiskey,   and  there's  plenty  of  ale  to  be  had   —   that  dwarf  in  the  corner  is  who  you'll  want  to  talk  with."   please,   just  talk  to  anyone,   anyone  but  him.

[lacecndleather]

"You're sure?" Harding questioned, glancing down at the list in her hand and scanning through the neat handwriting. "No, no according to Lady Josephine's notes, there should have been four barrels of sherry from a lord..." here, she squinted, trying to read the flowery Orlesian name. "Malaise? Or might be Montaise - can't quite tell. "

"Either way," she continued, raising her voice as she darted around people to catch back up with him. "Could you go and double check?" Lace gave her best winning smile. Had she ever help with a gala before? No, but never let it be said that Lace Harding backed down from a challenge. Even if that challenge was...this.