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TDM #4
It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:
As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.
“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”
And you most certainly do.
Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.
JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.
S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.
MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!
HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.
CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker’s mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.
GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!
As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:
You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:
The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.
The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.
The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.
Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.
The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.
If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.
But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.
Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.
In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?
The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.
If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.
In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.
Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. Home upgrades can be purchased via rewards.
Whether or not the assurances of the leaders ring entirely true, life, as it often does, presses on. The people of Caldera have once again immersed themselves in the comforting bustle of distraction, turning their attention to the imminent Season of Lights celebrations. This holiday, it seems, bears a striking resemblance to the festive cheer of Christmas (and a mix of new years), with gifts exchanged in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue casting their glow across the sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.
One of the seasons's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts—ornate trinkets, hand-crafted items, and tokens of affection that carry deep personal meaning. In the days leading up to the feast, a tradition of "Lightwalking" emerges, where families and friends embark on midnight strolls through streets aglow with lanterns, singing carols and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Sea-going vessels, too, partake in the festivities, their sails and riggings festooned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the waters.
The Season of Lights is, above all, a celebration of resilience, a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only for a little while, to bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead thanks to the Visitor's arrival...
The palace at the heart of Heaven’s Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with silver and blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The atmosphere is both jubilant and tense, a world on the brink of collapse holding its breath in the hopes that this fleeting night will offer a glimmer of salvation. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk and dawn, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.
Sylphs—the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky—flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air, their laughter and music mingling with the sounds of the celebration. Guests, their masks intricate and stunning, move among the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and stories, some joining in the dances while others linger near the grand tables, laden with food and drink from every corner of Caldera and beyond.
As the night unfolds, the guests find themselves drawn into different corners of the event—each space offering the Visitors a chance to prove themselves worthy of the leaders’ favor. There is no shortage of opportunities to learn, grow, and, perhaps, change the course of this dying world.
At one end of the palace's terrace, a floating platform hovers above the clouds, surrounded by shifting air currents. Sylphs glide effortlessly through the space, their wings leaving trails of light as they move to the lively music, which seems written by the wind itself.
Aella, Admiral of the Slyph, stands at the center of the platform, her cloak of shimmering feathers rippling in the breeze. She surveys the crowd, inviting those brave enough to take part in her challenge. Before them, a maze of floating platforms stretches out, some wide and stable, others narrow and swaying in the wind. The task is simple: leap from one platform to the next, navigating the shifting air and ever-changing obstacles.
The platforms move unpredictably, some rising higher, others sinking, and a few disappearing entirely. Guests must time their jumps perfectly, balancing agility with timing as they avoid falling into the clouds below.
Those who succeed will earn Aella’s favor (in the form of 100 Bones and a single white feather). And those who falter will simply reappear the start of the challenge to begin anew or give up with no repercussions for the latter save perhaps a bit of embarrassment.
Cordelia, Queen of the Sea, stands quietly on a raised platform at the edge of the garden, her presence calm and powerful. Her eyes, deep and unfathomable, seem to reflect the vastness of the ocean, and though she watches the guests, she does not engage with them. Her stillness holds an air of mystery, as if she is both present and yet unreachable.
The Undines move silently through the garden, offering peaceful company to those who wander nearby. The garden is a place of contemplation, where guests can simply pause and connect with the tranquil beauty of the water—its soothing flow, its quiet depths, and its promise of renewal. There are no tests or challenges here, only the peace of the Sea to calm the mind and soul.
Those who linger may feel the weight of ancient knowledge in the air, a silent understanding of the oceans' mysteries and the healing power of water. In this place, the answers are not spoken, but felt—a quiet reminder that some of the world’s deepest truths are best discovered in moments of stillness.
As the evening fades, those who have found solace in the garden’s stillness will discover, tucked gently in their palm, a lustrous pearl. Unlike any found on the shores, this pearl is soft and warm, its surface shimmering with an inner light. It is a symbol of the wisdom that comes from quiet reflection—the knowledge that some things, like the depth of the sea, cannot be rushed.
In the heart of the palace gardens, beneath a canopy of flowering trees, the Dryads drift gracefully among the guests, their earthy skin glowing with life and their eyes bright with the vitality of nature. The air is thick with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine, while the ground beneath the guests' feet pulses with a quiet energy, inviting them to pause and feel the garden’s magic.
Terra, the Lady of the Land, stands at the center, her form adorned in living vines and blossoms, moving as if the garden itself flows through her. Her presence is both nurturing and fierce, a silent invitation to those seeking connection—to the land, to love, and to one another.
Guests are drawn to the tranquil beauty of the garden, stealing soft moments with their partners among the flowers. Lovers exchange quiet glances, touch petals with gentle fingers, and share unspoken promises beneath the soft glow of lanterns. The garden hums with romance, as if the earth itself is blessing these tender moments, offering the quiet assurance that love—like the land—can grow in the most unexpected places.
As the night draws to a close, Terra’s gentle power is felt in the air, and for those who have taken the time to connect with the garden’s beauty, a soft gift of nature is bestowed. A flower—unique and radiant—appears in their hand, a token of love and growth, a reminder that even the briefest moments can take root and blossom into something everlasting.
Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.
Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.
Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.
For OOC questions, please direct themhere.
All locations are available to be explored!
The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.
Inquisitor Beleth Lavellan | Dragon Age | Dryad
Beleth sits on the tavern stool, expression guarded, but it's not hard to decipher that she is not particularly amused by her current situation. Part of this apprehension might be due to the drink in her hand, and the way that every time her head turns to look around, a jingling fills the air, like she's wearing little bells in her hair.
She isn't, for the record.
Still, she doesn't seem irritated enough to stop drinking, or stop moving, for that matter. After every few sips, she breaks her contemplative silence to gaze over the crowd at the tavern, eyes sliding over the faces. She doesn't seem to find whatever it is she's looking for, though, as she turns back away (jingling the entire time). The only other notable thing about the quiet woman is that she seems aware of every movement near her, turning her eyes away from whatever they're looking for to watch anyone near her, though her head never quite fully turns towards them, watching from the corner of her eye.
But maybe she just doesn't want to hear more jingling.
ii. the quest board
Quests are something that Beleth is quite used to, to say the least. Every other person in southern Thedas had something they wanted or needed, and who else to do it but the Inquisitor? And they're paying for it, which is nice. None of this just keeping whatever she happens to find on any dead bodies. There's a lengthy laundry list of requests she's already writing in her head (her bow, she misses her incredibly cool enchanted bow), and this is the way to acquire them.
Still, there's a frown on her face as she looks some of them over. Some of these quests are quite different than her previous experience. Where is the demonic sheep that needs herding? Playing connect the dots with astrology? Not a single druffalo to escort.
Despite the frown, she does seem calmer, more relaxed than she had at the tavern. There's a spirit in her movement, a pep in her step, so to speak. The frown smooths as she plucks a flyer about mushrooms up. Pick some mushrooms, don't eat them. Easy enough.
iii. the land's embrace
The garden is beautiful, as most are. Skyhold had its own garden, but much of the world outside of it had been stripped of its greenery. The blight stole it away, leaving only grim, brutal desolation. Even with matters settled, it would take years to regrow. To rebuild.
A pity she wouldn't see it.
But there is growth here, life and beauty. She soaks it in, walking past the flowers, occasionally stopping to closely examine them. So many kinds, some she recognizes, and some she does not. Hopefully, there will be some herbs that she can find particular use in. Elfroot or spindleweed would be a comfort--or witherstalk. That draws a smirk on her face, as she glances curiously at a particular flower...embrium, maybe?
She plucks a petal, tears it in half and takes a cautious sniff. It would probably be foolish to try eating it. Although...
i. Arrival this will either go swimmingly or...the opposite of that.
It's probably impossible to not notice him watching, since he's quite large and in bright blue body armor and also isn't trying to hide the fact that he's watching. It's clear that he's waiting for something to happen.
it'll be great i love the emperor yessir
That is the first thing Beleth thinks, when she sees him. He looks like a man carved from stone for the sole purpose of the military, given life by some strange quirk of magic. Or maybe sheer willpower. He would look at home amongst the legions of the Chantry, a bloody red sword splashed across that armor.
She's pretty sure he's not a Templar. Blue isn't their color.
She considers ignoring him. If he wants to stare, he is not the first, and her hands are washed of having to deal with whatever his deal could possibly be. He is not her business. But it grates on her, his eyes burning holes in the people around them, and her nerves are already frayed by the experience of coming here.
"Normally," Her head tilts as she leans towards him (jinglejingle), "People must pay for the privilege of visiting a zoo. Thank you for not throwing peanuts, at least." Not that she doesn't like peanuts. But. Principles.
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And no one gets to tell him what he can and cannot look at.
He can't tell if she's trying to be aggressive or...not? "What would you do if I did?" He's mostly curious and also confused.
plz forgive that too early reply, rip
Beleth is left handling her own confusion at his reply, and she leans back (jinglejingle) from him as she mulls it over. Is he joking? He's not smiling--his face does not look built for the act. She is quite certain if he were threatening her, she would be aware. She's been threatened by a wide variety of exciting and interesting people.
A man in enough armor to replace a battering ram is probably not one she wants to add to that.
"I suppose," Her hands spread (jinglejingle), palms up. "I would ask you what you were attempting to accomplish. In both the staring, and the peanuts. Though I'm more focused on the staring, truth be told." Since the peanuts are as of yet theoretical.
all good!
"I am waiting to see which daemon of Chaos manifests from this sorcerous drink you have imbibed." Foolishly imbibed, he might add. Just look at this place, bursting with heresy. If she suddenly breaks out into some blistering pox, then Nurgle is afoot. If she starts thirsting for blood, Khorne, and if she starts acting, well, indecently, that would be Slaanesh's work.
And he'd do more than sling snack foods at her if such would occur. They might have taken his chainsword, but he still has fists.
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Why this is the first assumption he drew is, however, baffling. She's not even a mage.
"I would hope that it would take more than an alchemical concoction that does this--" Here, she waves her hand with an enthusiasm not matched by her expression. Jinglejinglejingle. "--to render me an abomination." Maybe she was too quick to dismiss him as a potential Templar.
The hand, notably, is a slightly different shade than her skin tone, with articulated joints. A prosthetic, functional enough to grip (or jingle), but not nearly as cool as some of the bionic ones Gadriel might have encountered.
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"Any doorway into the warp is a temptation for Chaos to step through." Anything unnatural or 'magic' is suspect. Especially since Gadriel had been fooled before.
Gadriel shrugs. The robotic hand does not bother him. His own squadmade Chairon has an entire arm augment and his captain has an optical replacement. "That merely states that you have lost your hand in battle with the enemy." Because that's the only way he knows that people get wounded.
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II.
But he is watching, and he is waiting; the moment she comes out the door, his eyes are on her. And there is, however, one genuinely remarkable thing about him: The massive bruise blooming purple and yellow, already darkening around one eye.
"Vhenan," he greets, as she nears, as calm as if nothing at all were the matter, "How fares the requests?"
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Her own changes are more subtle, suitable for a person who has simply aged with the passing of time. She carries herself with a quiet confidence that is no longer born of desperate bravado, intent on trying to assure everyone she has everything handled. She simply does, now.
Except. In this instance, perhaps.
For as she turns to greet him, a smile already warming her face, she finds there is one thing about Solas' appearance that she is not enjoying.
She doesn't ask what happened, he is not a man prone to accidents. There was violence inflicted upon him, and his nonchalance tells her that he felt it was not undeserved--as well as the fact that he had not levelled a nearby building in the ensuing fight. Unless he has been remarkably busy in the time they've been here, he would be hard pressed to inspire such justified anger in such a short time. The likeliest solution is that there is someone else from Thedas here.
Unfortunately, the list of people who would be disinclined to creating such a vivid bruise upon him is smaller than the other side.
"Solas." Her tone is parts exasperated and worried, as she cups his face (careful to use her natural hand), fingers gentle as they examine him. "We should head back. I'll find something to put on that." She presses her lips together. "I found a request for gathering... Mushrooms? But they can wait."
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He allows himself one bare, quiet moment of weakness, and then reaches to grasp her wrist, to carefully disengage her from tending to him. He doesn't deserve it... and it will do no good.
"It is nothing," He says, quietly, "And it will likely happen again. I—"
He stumbles on the verbal threshold, and cannot quite prevent himself from closing his eyes against the pain of the admission. The scrabbling, animal horror is climbing up his throat, and Solas fears she will hear it in his speech, see the agony in his expression.
"I have no magic. I cannot even sense the Fade," Solas nearly breaks, can hear the crack in his own voice. He would offer much to prevent it, but there is little he can do, "It will heal. But let us be diligent at our work, and perhaps our new Masters will be merciful."
He does not fool himself into believing they are free to refuse. Whatever this place is, however prettily it dresses itself up, it is a place of bondage. But he can do nothing as he is.
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But to disconnect a mage from the Fade--a shiver rushes up her spine, and she bats away Solas' hand. But instead of continuing to fuss over his bruise, both hands move to hold him, pull him to her. The fear of Tranquility has plagued so many mages (and maybe other, older beings, but let's not dwell on that), and the idea it could be done to him...
But he is himself. She clings tightly to him. Some fists flying, she can understand, even if she would rather it didn't happen. The idea of them robbing her of not just her beloved, but what made him him terrified her. That, she would fight.
"The task I picked involves only swimming, and collecting mushrooms. It should be safe. If there is anything... I'll deal with it, alright? And if anyone else tries throwing fists, I will see if I can't convince them otherwise." Words, she has, at least. "Who was it? If you wish to tell." She has no plans to visit revenge on the attacker, but perhaps they would agree to keep distance.
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His is not frail; he can climb, and swim, and throw a blade— stickfighting is not beyond him. But it is not what he trained for, not how he works. It is waking up to find himself on the wrong side of the Veil all over again, only worse, a thousand times worse, because difficult is not the same as impossible. Will he dream, he wonders, if he were to sleep? Or is he truly cut off from all that was his birthplace, a shadow himself now, in truth.
No, that is unfair. Lavellan, at least, would not appreciate the comparison.
Belatedly, his arms come up around her, too slow, numbed by her kindness. He deserves no such sympathy, after all he's done to force others into so similar a position— he should not have told her. And yet, the comforting weight of her arms, her head against his shoulder, is more balm to the horror than he can express.
"Rook," He admits, at last. Perhaps not a wise admission, but he would prefer not to lie to Beleth without good reason, "She... I disguised certain truths from her, and this was her retaliation. She was right to be angry. I am only surprised she did not try to kill me."
And if Lavellan asks, he will be forced to say what he hid... And then, perhaps, she will abandon him at last. It is for cowardice that he hesitates, even now.
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It occurs to her, briefly, that Solas is unaware of how much information Beleth had. Very little of it first hand, almost all relayed to her through Morrigan. Beleth only nods at the information, and doesn't push. Instead, she leans up to kiss his cheek.
"Rook is a reasonable woman," She says, and preemptively puts a finger over Solas' mouth. "We have sought each other's counsel before, I will see if we can come to an accord." It is, in truth, a relief that it's Rook, of all people, that's throwing punches. Who is here at all. Someone that Beleth knows, that she has already established a connection with. That has the competency and wisdom that many in Thedas lacked.
She does not share that with Solas. Instead, she removes her finger. "The sea water will help with the swelling. We need only tell the people at the dock that we are there for a quest, and they will provide us with the equipment to breathe underwater." She's quite pleased to look so well informed. "Someone at the board was kind enough to tell me."
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ii for the sake of commentary, if I may!
He's not making any judgment calls on anyone's ability to handle themselves in a fight, under or above the water, but it's definitely a disservice to newcomers to not warn them about what's out there. Not everyone has a chance to read the fine print of each and every quest posted.
"There are still shadows in the water that no one has explained to my satisfaction. A month ago they almost tore into the Salt Spire dome."
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Fantastic. She can handle herself in a fight, normally, but she hasn't so much as an arrow to her name, and something that can tear into a building is unlikely to heed polite requests to stop.
"This is a request to gather mushrooms at--" A quick glance at the paper. "--Infinity Cove. I will be accompanied by another person, though neither of us are armed, yet." She turns to him again, a politely apologetic look on her face. "Would you lend me any other wisdom on what could be expected? Swimming, I can handle, but beyond that, I would appreciate any information that would let me prepare."
If the mushrooms start attacking (or perhaps turn out to be a sentient colony), she would be in a bad spot. Maybe she could find a sharp rock.
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And the faction leaders are not especially forthcoming.
He nods. "I haven't been there myself, but based on what I've heard, the Cove is safe enough. It's just getting to and from it where you'll need to be cautious."
"I wish I had a map on me, but I don't. The Cove is in relatively shallow area, so you'll be headed away from the Violet Drop. Start out at the docks and make sure each of you has a rebreather. They'll just let you borrow them, they don't even ask for Bones for it if you're on a quest."
He rubs the back of his neck. "Completely unarmed? You should probably have a dagger, but I can at least give you a couple flares, if you like."
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"I'm grateful for the information, ser. It's a relief to have an idea of what we can expect--and how to acquire the equipment we'll need." She's not a poor swimmer by any means, but exploring an underwater cave would be a risk without assistance.
At the comment about her weapons, she looks aside, expression suddenly embarrassed. "I normally carry weapons on me, but I was taken from my world at a moment when I had set them aside." She had thought she'd been running off into the Fade sunset to a well earned happy ending. Well, more the fool she.
"You've already done me a great service, ser. I would hate to impose on you by taking your belongings. But... I would be thankful for the assistance." Pride is nice and all, but getting lost in a cave would be a miserable end, and she's not going there alone. "
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"Pay the favor forward later, if you like."
"Most of us arrived with the clothes on our backs and little else. No shame in that. I'd lend you a weapon, but all I have on me is my slingshot and I need it. I make these to share." He withdraws a pair of thin cylinders from his bag. They look as though they're mostly metal, dark like tarnished iron, with a thin ring about two inches from the end of each.
"They're meant to work underwater. Twist the short end and pull it free, and you'll have light for about twenty minutes apiece. If you're lucky you won't need them at all, and if that's the case you can pass them back to me and I'll see to it someone else can use them."
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She used to have the resources to thank people properly. Josephine would make legendary gift baskets. But she was, sadly, deprived of both, here.
When Beleth goes to take the flares, a discerning gnome like Barcus might note that her left hand appears to be made of wood, just a shade off of her skin tone, with carefully carved articulated joints. It seems to cause her no problem as she holds the flares, examining them with an open curiosity. They're more advanced than she is familiar with, but close enough to her knowledge of technology for her to be able to recognize it as technology, instead of dismissing it as an unfamiliar magic.
"You made these? And they burn underwater? That's...incredible. You're truly a well of knowledge, ser." That might have sounded condescending, if she didn't sound so genuine, and so genuinely tempted to start dissecting the flares right there. But she resists, ferreting them away to a pocket.
"I must beg of you one more thing, if you'll indulge me. I'd like to know the name of the man who has been so kind to me, that my partner and I can repay you properly, when we can." She'll have to tell Solas, so he can make a little 'do not betray' note in his diary or something.
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iii -- up to you if the plant ID is right or not.
"What is it?" he asked, cautiously.
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"I was hoping it was a flower from where I'm from. Embrium. It's as well known for it's healing properties as it is for its fragrance." She explains, holding up the petal to him. "This one does smell lovely, but I don't think it is the same. A shame, it makes a lovely tea." She pauses, looking around the garden contemplatively. "Though I don't know if the flowers here are allowed to be gathered at all, whatever they may be." She'd always appreciated a more practical garden, that grew herbs and flowers for the use of others, but she knew others preferred a more ornamental arrangement.
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(Though in Saltmist, it would be an additional concern as the gardens are all underwater.)
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"But it is not a waste to have something whose job is simply to look pretty, I suppose."
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