#warden--alistair

[rivainiqueenoftheeasternsea-blog]

Event: Old Friends ll Alistair & Isabela

There were a few things Isabela expected at a party with Orlesians. Ridiculous masks, which were here in spades, drunken nobles to steal from and quiet retreats populated by those who found all the extravagance a little bit too much.

One thing, she did not expect to find though, was Alistair Theirin in a mouse mask. She’d met him briefly in the past a couple of times, but even then he never really struck her as the ‘ridiculous mask’ sort of man. She had to do some detective work before she confirmed to herself that yes, it was actually him.

Finally satisfied that it was really him, she made up her mind and made her way towards him, avoiding drunken nobles and exuberant Orlesians with praticed grace. When she finally reached him, a small smirk tugged at ehr lips. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”

@warden--alistair

[lyrium-stained-blog]

{Wolf Pack} [Fenris, Alistair, Cullen, Hawke, Dorian]

ooc note;; I decided to just...make the posting order the order that people replied in the OOC chat. If that’s alright? Also, I wasn’t sure if Cullen was really in on it or not, so please let me know if you aren’t going to be involved, Alex! ETA: Alex is game.

It had never been a big secret that Fenris had arrived at Skyhold. As a person of note in one of the most read books in Thedas, the rumor had spread like wildfire. So had the rumor that he was trying to get a group together to venture out to the Hissing Wastes. He had originally asked Josephine to find agents to spare, but the Inquisition didn’t have the spare resources. After some particularly failed attempts at research on the Venatori, Fenris had broken down and decided just to do it himself. When he made the decision, he’d been eating dinner with some of the servants, mentioning that he would be leaving three days later, in the morning. They told other servants, who told more servants, and within the next day, the whole castle had at least heard of the expedition.

Regardless of whether or not the attention had garnered interest and aid, on the third day, Fenris was strapped into his armor and ready to leave. He had his fur vest and a tattered scarf and hood for the cold, but made plans to find something more on his way. Desert nights were supposed to get bitter cold, according to what little he had been able to find out from the scouts. He didn’t need much else after that, other than his sword and a bit of food to start off with.

After a brief stop to the kitchens, Fenris was headed towards the gate. The small sack of supplies hung over one shoulder. He only stopped to stand to one side of the archway in the hopes that maybe Hawke had decided to join him. He looked around the courtyard for the mage, but couldn’t find the familiar face. He’d wait a few more minutes.