#altusredemptor

[lutanistbloomed]

@altusredemptor | continued from here

He’d been watching the mage intermittently throughout the evening, watching the way his cups were refilled as rapidly as The Iron Bull’s (and oh, he did have to write a ballad about those horns -- perhaps it could grant him entrance to Par Vollen and Seheron if he played his cards right, get in before the Orlesians) despite the man being easily half the size of the qunari. Impressive, really. The mage could probably give a seasoned alcoholic (although he really preferred the term tippler) like himself a run for his money. 

The night wound down as, tragically, all nights did -- barring the ones spurred on by blood magic or sex. He slides in beside the man, smiling his most disarming smile. The question was as ridiculous as it was serious. He’d no real understandings of the workings of magic, but he could apparently remove brooms from the equation entirely. “I did, but I guess I’ll just have to rework it. I don’t suppose there’s anything you do fly on? It would make things so much easier.” He’s teasing, but only a little. A song about a flying mage would create quite a stir in the less religious parts of the world.

[ichorcrowncd]

@altusredemptor | continued from here

“You say that because you haven’t seen the horrors wrought by magic gone awry,” Hux spat in reply, glaring across the table at Pavus. This is ostensibly a meeting about stratagems for their excursion into the Kocari Wilds, but, as per usual, has devolved into pointless bickering about the ills of magic. Which are plentiful, as any good Andrastian knows. The fact that Pavus is a damnable Vint is not making matters any better. For all the Inquisitor knew, they could have an abomination on their hands. “We need more archers. More actual military might -- not this hand waving feel good nonsense your kind seems to think is so imperative to winning this war.”

[wulfein]

@altusredemptor / sc.

Rabbit sits outside the alcove, a good distance back -- respectful dog he is, all too aware that he is not allowed within a certain distance of any books, lest he begin to chew.  Wulf steps in closer, though, watching Dorian with a thinly veiled worry. 

“ I’m sorry to hear about your friend, Felix.  Brought you shitty alcohol, if you want it.  With everything going on of late, it feels like a shitty alcohol kind of day ... if you want the company for it, anyway. “ 

[mademyselfreal]

☁  — you and i, dreamcatcher — @altusredemptor​

        “Familiar roads feel so strange.” Sun catches at the corner of your eye, pulls them to the gilded buildings flanking either side, vitae benefaria, your father’s eyes bore holes into your back but you pay them no mind (or, at least, pretend to), on your own now, you can do this, you have to. “I hope it’s better here.”

[poenitent-iam]

@altusredemptor | from here 

 “Like yourself, commander?” A knuckle rested against his lips as he peered at Cullen over the board, never devoting as much of his attention to the strategy of the game as he ought to, and devoting entirely too much to the man who sat across from him. Their idle chess conversations didn’t tend to wax this serious, but Dorian found himself alight with curiosity. “No, you’re far too humble for that.”

"There you are, answering your own questions again.” 

There was a soft creak of leather as he leaned forward to more carefully survey their battleground. Unlike the mage, he was very invested in this particular match, almost impatiently waiting for Dorian to make his own play.  

“But you’re right,” 

It was an uneasy thing, considering the past. The morning seemed less tranquil for it, and he shifted back in his chair, resisting the urge to turn his gaze to the gardens. The Commander was all too aware of how quick those hands could be when it came to their games. 

“Maybe I'd thought myself that once, but we were all young men once.”

[fadewalking]

@altusredemptor​ continued from here.

“Not you.” Solas gave a tired sigh. “But that you assumed it speaks volumes.” He stood with arms crossed over his chest, his line of sight rested on Sera and he nodded to her in a vague gesture. “With her bow, she has the skill of one who has trained for a lifetime, and claims to have been taught only by herself... All that natural talent, and she has only wasted it on insignificant pranks.”

[asteeledheart]

@altusredemptor​

“you  look  terribly  deep  in  thought,  lost  even.” 

[widogastswebofwords]

“ everybody talks about helping. it’s nice to actually do something. ”

6 underground starters // Accepting

“Yes,” Cole nodded emphatically, picking at the skin on his fingertips. People felt better with the Inquisition around-- mostly. Safe, secure, they didn’t let people starve in the streets. And they helped personal problems too. Just this morning they’d brought flowers to a widow’s grave, mourning and mirthful, a celebration in the sadness for a life well lived. Joining the Inquisition gave Cole many more opportunities to help than when he was alone, and he was with friends again.

“Are you going to go back to your home, Dorian? To help people there?”