InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I just hate people."

The Dragon Age (thedragonage) wrote in thebattleage,
@ 2011-05-10 22:48:00

Entry tags:

! complete, (plot), caius dukas, conlan delaine, declan gallagher, elsa vargas, hilda aelricsdottr, imenry barras, lucressia peron, ordhan wyland, seda utheriel, vashedan

Thread: Another Merry Feast
Who: Open to All, Alistair Theirin (NPC), Bethany Hawke (NPC)
Where: Vigil’s Keep
When: 2 Solis, 9:45 (Evening)
Summary: After the second day of activities and events, the competitors and crowds mingle for a boisterous celebration.
Rating: T/M (For language)

Maybe, Bethany thought, she ought not have been surprised that Alistair had snuck off. The dinner the day before had not really been enjoyable - conversation wise at least, the food had been excellent. But the conversation had been stilted, and the new Anders Warden had certainly not made any friends with his behaviour. With a sigh, she looked around the room, hopeful that Alistair was only late, and not escaped. But no such luck. Flattening her hands down her tunic with the Warden Griffon embroidered on it, Bethany accepted her fate. There were worse things in the world than having to sit through another good meal with bad conversation, and there were worse people to work with than Alistair. He was childish, to a surprising degree for a man who had risen so high, but he was also a great leader, a good man and a good Warden.

She guessed those three had to make up for him not being here tonight. Just barely. And when she found him, then...

Stepping through the door from the ante chamber, Bethany walked over to her seat and sat down. The empty seat next to her was obvious, but maybe the Commanders absence would prove a good ice breaker? She wasn’t so sure. Leaning back, she slumped into her chair, waiting for the other Wardens to arrive.

Meanwhile, the Warden-Commander was in another part of the castle, more exactly skulking in a dark corner of the courtyard. Sneaking away from the great hall hadn’t been any problem, but he had realised as soon as he entered the courtyard that most people there would know who he was. And if they knew, they also realised that he was supposed to be somewhere else, more exactly the great hall.

Pondering this problem for a moment, he looked at the courtyard; the tables loaded with every food imaginable and drink, the servants going in on out of the kitchen to retrieve more. In another corner, a group of fiddlers had taken place, tuning their instruments and near one of the large fires, a story teller was weaving a story for some of the older children still allowed up. More people were entering as he looked, young girls with flowers woven into their hair and close after, young men with large grins.

He would just stay there for one more moment, Alistair decided, and enjoy the moment.

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outside party

designergene
2011-05-11 02:00 am UTC (link)

Vashedan had been hanging around the keep until the feast as many of the contestants had. Unlike most, she she had not changed clothes and remained in the same dirtied and scuffed outfit that could loosely be called 'armor' that she had been wearing for her match. She had, however, cleaned her hands.

The Warden-Commander had not been out with the contestants the night before and she'd been under the impression that he and the other wardens wouldn't be until the final night when candidates were chosen and winners announced and rewarded. But as he was here, she decided it would be best to give him her thanks now so she wouldn't have to later. Then she could get to the food.

She approached him from the back as he was looking out over the food tables and came to a stop just about a foot behind him.

"Warden-Commander."

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Re: outside party

thedragonage
2011-05-11 10:12 am UTC (link)

Alistair didn't jump, but it was a near thing, as someone suddenly spoke behind him. His face tense, his hand hovering near his sword he whirled around. It wasn't as if he was expecting a darkspawn to join the party and come over to talk, but the surprise triggered his reaction.

Whirling around he realised it was the qunari woman - was that the word? Bethany had explained about the quanri to him once, but at that point he never thought he'd find himself conversing with one. She was decidedly a woman however, just taller than him and with those horns.

Clearing his throat, Alistair made sure he was looking her in the face and not staring somewhere else. Grinning, he moved his hand away from the hilt of his weapon, and fisted them behind his back. Military men used to do this to look imposing he had noticed, and lacking in inches compared to the horned woman, he felt he could need all the extra imposing he could get...

"Ah, yes? Good evening, I hope you're enjoying the...eh...festivities?"

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Re: outside party

designergene
2011-05-16 01:43 am UTC (link)

"Yes. Thank you," she nodded starkly and moved to walk around him. Her goal having been done quickly and simply with his question covering everything that needed to be addressed before she dug into the meal. Vashedan's attention was no longer on the warden-commander, a small smile on her lips as she headed for the tables covered in food. It smelled very, very good and she had no reason to continue waiting with the thanks given.

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thedragonage
2011-05-20 06:03 pm UTC (link)

Before he had even had time to think of something else to say - or rather find a joke to tell, the tall horned woman was gone again. Staring after her, it took Alistair a few moments to realise his mouth was open.

Slowly, his mouth started to twitch, the corners of his eyes crinkling as a huge grin took over his face. While many people - mostly those who didn't know him very well - treated him with the respect they considered due for the Warden Commander of Ferelden, no one had ever walked up to him and looked so satisfied at simply exchanging a handful of words. He was going to have to ask Bethany about this...

Chuckling to himself, Alistair strolled on merrily, stopping to snag a leg of chicken from one of the tables and then blending with the crowd again.

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caius_dukas
2011-05-11 03:49 am UTC (link)

It was a shame he had missed the feast last night. Spread before him on groaning rough-hewn tables were plates and dishes of food, an unending string of servants streaming from the kitchen with fresh platters and morsels to further weigh them down. Caius himself joined the shuffling line of contestants and observers who mingled together, plates in hand as they partook of the Warden’s generosity. Sandwiched between a sweating florid merchant on one side and a young widow with a swarm of screeching children swirling around her feet, Caius gritted his teeth and dug deeply for the patience required not to dump his plate over the heads of the whole shrieking lot of them.

He’d made it most of the way to the end, his plate an impressive tower of choice bits when he spied a huge haunch of roast beef, glistening with sauce and being attended to by a slightly bored looking elf cutting new slices to add to the small pile beside it as needed. Caius waited for the servant to place a portion on his plate, the flustered elf searching vainly for an open space to place the piece of meat, a look of disgust on his face as he eyed Caius’ already teetering, overburdened plate. As if he could be blamed for the Warden’s willingness to dole out ridiculous amounts of food?

The servant finally gave up and just set the slice atop everything else on Caius’ plate, a slight sneer on his face as he began turning towards the next patron. With his eye narrowed Caius caught the elf’s gaze, holding it with a flat glare as he slowly and deliberately speared the largest piece of meat on the table and lifted it to his own plate, slapping it atop the roast beef already there, his eye never leaving the elf’s. Blanching slightly, the servant hastily busied himself slicing the haunch and studiously avoiding Caius’ gaze.

After snagging a full goblet of wine from another table Caius wandered toward the seating area, open spaces already few and far between. Next to the sparking bonfire were chunks of log laid out for people to sit and eat on, most full but one occupied by nothing more than a weedy youth, probably saving a spot for his sweetheart. Caius stomped over and came to a stop behind the young man, his hands full of food and drink. It was too loud with the fiddlers and the roaring fire nearby for words to carry well, so rather than waste breath telling the youth to move Caius simply stuck out a boot and, planting it squarely in the boy’s lower back, shoved him lightly off the edge of the log. The boy landed with a small thump on his rump in the dirt and bounced immediately to his feet, whirling with an outraged yell that faded into a squeak as he stared up at Caius. Wisely the boy chose not to press the issue and slunk away to lick his wounded pride elsewhere, leaving Caius to settle himself into the vacated seat, stretching his long legs before him as he tucked into the food and watched the fire blaze.

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imenry
2011-05-12 04:25 am UTC (link)

Imenry had skipped the feast the first day. Mostly because she'd been tired of the crowds, but also because she'd just been tired. Today she'd felt better, more well rested in the morning before her battle. And now she was hungry. She'd taken a brief break earlier to grab a quick lunch, a meat pie and an apple. But it had only been enough to tide her over.

After that she'd spent her time watching the rest of the fights, some more closely than others. In the afternoon she'd found Brennan wandering about and spent some of her time in his company, before making her way to the quiet of the training grounds to practice alone. She still had other fights to prepare for, including her challenge against one of the Wardens. She was enjoying testing her skills, the money was just a bonus on top of it. And though the crowds were strange, she was growing used to the constant presence of people. She still stood out... it was simply impossible for her not too. She didn't look or move like other people, especially other women. She didn't mind it all that much either.

The feast was even bigger than she'd originally imagined. The amount of food served... it was enough to feed the village for months. She had a hard time absorbing how there could be so much... waste. How much food and money did these people have to simply give it away? Not one night, but five? Imenry hesitated, asking for a pint of ale as she reached for a plate and got in line. She picked and chose, taking the amount of food that she knew would fill her up. She didn't want to throw any away. Still, it was more than she'd ever eaten in one sitting and she stared at the plate a moment before slipping into the crowd and searching for an empty seat.

She spotted a lone man on a log around a fire. The other seats were full, but surprisingly no one sat beside him. As Imenry drew closer she could guess why. His appearance could be considered intimidating, a ravaged face and body, corded with muscle but riddled with scars. One of his eyes was missing, a seared bundle of scarred skin in it's place. To Imenry it simply meant that this man was not a pretend warrior like many of those who came to the tournament to show off their supposed skills. The pampered nobles and youths who'd never seen a true battle. This man had lived through terrible injuries. Still, she didn't say anything to him as she took the empty seat beside him. If he wanted to talk, she'd let him have the first word. She lifted a sauce-covered rib and bit into it.

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caius_dukas
2011-05-26 05:51 am UTC (link)

He was taken a bit by surprise when a shadow fell across his plate and a body sat beside him on the rough wood. In a crowd like this, his visage was usually enough to scare away all but the brave or the stupid. Or the very drunk.

Glancing up at the woman that had seated herself beside him, he saw right away that she fell into neither of the latter categories. Tall and muscular but still feminine, she carried a large greatsword on her back and her hands were creased with the calluses that proved she knew how to wield it. He waited expectantly for her to break the silence, as most women were wont to do, but she casually picked up a piece of meat off her plate and silently began tucking into her meal.

Caius gnawed the last scraps of meat from the bone in his hand idly, the majority of his wine sitting warmly in his full belly. It was a nice night, mild and clear, and he was in no real hurry to move on, so he tossed the clean-picked bone into the flames nonchalantly and wiped the greasy residue on the thick leather of his pants. Setting his nearly empty plate aside he swirled the dregs of his wine in its glass before tossing back the contents and turning towards the woman with an appraising stare.

“By the looks of that weapon I’m guessing you’ve been competing in the tournament." He picked up another rib off his plate and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as he eyed the woman. "And since you don’t look like you’ve got shit for brains, unlike most of these whiny spoiled brats that couldn’t find the business end of their own dicks let alone a sword, I’m guessing you’ve been winning.”

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imenry
2011-05-26 06:50 am UTC (link)

Imenry ate in silence for a while. The food here was good. The excess of it all still bothered her, still seemed like so much waste, but they knew how to cook. There'd never been spices and sauces like these in the village. Precious little had been able to grow there, and so it didn't breed a very refined palate. So maybe the food of Ferelden wasn't the best in Thedas, but to her this was the finest meal she'd ever eaten.

She didn't think about the people around her, or consider them company. She didn't know any of them and she wasn't here for conversation. It had been a long day, and she was here for the food. After she ate, she'd go back to her hotel (after checking up on Signy and Brennan) and go to sleep. She had another busy day ahead of her.

So she was perhaps a little surprised when the man next to her said something, and she turned to look at him, chewing the bit of meat that she'd just taken a bite out of it and swallowing as she absorbed his words. She cocked one brow in mild amusement, not offended by the crudeness of what he said, even though some of the others in the vicinity seemed bothered. She licked the sauce from her lips idly before replying. "I have been competing. And as I'm not the only woman in the competition I have to wonder why you left them out of the equation. Since there's nothing there for them to find." As for whether or not she was winning well... it was true enough she'd done well up to this point. But there were more rounds still to go through.

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caius_dukas
2011-07-19 07:33 pm UTC (link)

He threw his head back at her quip, a bark of laughter bursting free. “Touché,” he grinned, enjoying her refusal to be cowed by his crude language. It was refreshing, to be reacted to in such a noncommittal way, and he continued chuckling for a moment.

“Of course,” he continued, punctuating his words with small jabs of the clean rib bone in his hand, “I purposely left women out of the analogy. Any man knows that a woman willing to pick up a sword before all these people probably has bigger balls than he does. It goes without saying they know what they’re doing.”

He idly sucked the last of the sauce off the end of the bone before tossing it after its companions in the fire, and turned to face her full-on. “Name’s Caius,” he said by way of introduction. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either. Who the hell is, at a gathering like this?” He eyed her speculatively, taking in her weapon and the visible scars she wore. “Not fancy enough for permanent work. And too exotic for most bland Ferelden noble’s taste to be a guard. My money’s on sellsword?”

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imenry
2011-07-19 08:21 pm UTC (link)

She smirked slightly at the man, raising a single brow at his words. She supposed it was true enough that those in the competition had guts, if nothing else. It took bravery to lift one's sword in a challenge and most particularly in front of a crowd. She didn't think about it very much when she was in the arena. The cheering of the people in the stands was nothing but background noise. All that mattered was her, her claymore, and the opponent across the ring.

"I've faced one man and two women so far in the competition and I'm in the finals tomorrow. I hear my opponent is incredibly skilled though, so it could very well end there." Imenry would prefer if she won, of course. After all, who wouldn't? But she wasn't about to let her ego get the best of her and go into the battle cocky.

At his introduction she turned to look at him, but didn't offer a hand. He hadn't offered one, and her own hands were a bit sticky from sauce and currently lifting a chicken leg from her plate. "Imenry," she offered in return and then listened to his suppositions and guesses as to what she might do for a living. "You'd be right on that. But I'm working as a bodyguard for one of the Wardens at the moment. A mage," she offered in explanation as to why one of the famed Wardens would need someone to see to their safety.

Knowing most people in Ferelden, the mere word 'mage' might send this man running and end the conversation right there. Imenry didn't really consider that, mostly because she really didn't care.

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(will post in archery thread later, pressed for time + access tonight)

skald_hilda
2011-05-11 04:47 am UTC (link)

The travel and archery leathers were, for the night, packed away among Hilda's things - instead, she had aired out the one formal piece of clothing she had brought with her to Ferelden, a soft blue-green gown that had, doubtless, belonged to her sister Ilse before her, and her mother before her. The fabric was incredibly soft with age and use, perhaps a bit threadbare at the hem (it had been taken up and down and up and down in its lifetime) but it still shimmered with a faint silvery sheen in the candlelight of the feasting-hall, and along with freshly washed and combed hair, a pair of slippers and her best accesory - her brilliant smile - Hilda stepped fearlessly into the festivities.

Her activities at the range earlier, she put from her mind. The keep was full of light and noise - young men were chasing young women, while old women were sharing gossip about old men. It reminded Hilda with a pang of longing of her father's mead-hall in the jarling she was born in, so very far away now, and likely quieter without Albrecht or herself to brighten it. As she walked among the crowds and through the tables, she contemplated finding a spot to sit and tell her tales; perhaps she would later. For the moment, she simply wandered amongst the decorations and the tables laden with feasts, nibbling an apple here, sipping a bit of ale there.

She would construct all of it into an edda, later. For now, she simply was, enjoying being a tall, blonde part of the scenery.

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elsavargas
2011-05-11 10:32 am UTC (link)

It was horrible, and Elsa had no idea what she was doing there, why she had come. Everywhere in the court yard, there were people laughing, dancing, singing - enjoying themselves. It was situations like these that made her bitter and resentful of her lost memories and her present lot in life. She knew no one, had no one to make merry with and indeed, those she knew did not wish for her to join them.

And yet she was here, in another misguided attempt to see explore the town and have another pat from Brennan when she told him she had 'joined the celebrations' again. At least if she went out, she had an excuse to go tell him about it later. Each hand grasping her skirts securely - they might be mended and worn thin, but she wasn't about to let one of these dolts spill bear on her - Elsa slipped through the courtyard.

The sound of a squealing child and the soothing noises of it's mother suddenly made her gasp and step backwards blindly. The sound reached deep inside her, making her innards twist and her breaths to come in gasps. That she had no idea why, that the blind panic and crippling well of emotions was out of her control, only made the moment worse.
Another few steps back, hands clasped unconsciously over her chest and stomach, Elsa drew backwards until she walked into someone, nearly loosing her balance.

Whirling around Elsa stared at the person, realising dimly she had seen her before somewhere, but too blinded at the moment to say anything.

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ordhan
2011-05-11 10:02 pm UTC (link)

The first of the series of feasts had gone ignored; it was still too close to the losses of the supposedly-false Blight that Ordhan had just seen, and though he went to the archery tournaments to watch Hilda compete, his heart was not in the competition itself. He'd seen tournament after tournament, nobles always looking for an excuse to be haughty over one another because of the accomplishments of their champions. This was not quite that, with no one getting credit for the combatant's hard work but themselves, but it smacked of the same triviality and emptiness of any other Ordhan had seen. If word returned to Denerim of how frivolous the activity at the Keep had become, his leave would be revoked in an instant and he would be called back to the city, leaving his charge to fend for herself.

Yet the fact remained that while the idea and the timing of the tournament repulsed him, the people who had returned to the Keep did not. So when the second feast began, Ordhan simply shed the reminder of what it was for and who was being ignored. If he saw any of the few friends he had made there, it would be worth his while, and even if not at least he could get a good meal from it.

There would prove to be better than that. The long dress might have delayed recognition for a fraction of a second, but unless some other Ander woman his own height had arrived at the Keep, Ordhan knew who it was in a moment.

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utheriel
2011-05-11 10:44 pm UTC (link)

Seda sat, with knees drawn up tightly to her chest, her back to the flickering fire and more importantly the storyteller nearby who was in the midst of constructing his tale. Her head was tilted to the side, trying to better hear the story being told though she tried her best to be discreet about her interest. One arm lay wrapped around her legs while the other idly tossed an apple through the air. There were better things to eat, the scent of the air told her that much, but the elf has little appetite for the rich foods floating all around her.

She wondered why she had come out to join the feast tonight but couldn’t find a reason. It was a social event to be sure and Seda wasn’t feeling all that social, hadn’t been for a long time, and yet she hadn’t been able to resist when her feet had dragged her here with a mind of their own. Half lidded eyes, fiercely alert beneath her lashes, watched as people danced around her. Their faces were alight with happiness that seemed foreign; their laughter was a song altogether more powerful than anything the fiddlers could produce.

The whole of it made her chest ache but she couldn’t find it in her to stand and leave. So she remained where she was, body drawn in tight and listened.

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conlandelaine
2011-05-24 10:13 pm UTC (link)

Con was glad that no one had recognized him. Not even when he stepped in line and grabbed a large plate of food. It was almost a relief to once again be the unimportant one, the one no one looked at in the eye. He'd heard people talking about the Warden Commander being in the yard, so that probably drew everyone's attention. Of course he wasn't at all important, and it seemed like more often then not, he did the recognizing, so in retrospect, he probably had very little to worry about.

He wondered if he could find Ord, and maybe share a drink. But then he caught side of the small elf curled up with her back to the fire. Her face was framed in shadow, and he had to squint to be sure it was her. Their interactions the day before had left him a little concerned about her. She seemed... lost, angry, upset. Granted the usual emotions bubbling under the surface for him, but for her they were barely contained. Con felt like he should say something. He approached slowly, and tried to make sure she would notice, lest she feel the need to threaten again. He leaned down slightly, setting his mug nearby.

"You look bothered. I understand, I'm not a big fan of stories myself, unless it's the kind that includes phrases like "And that's how we taught the Orleasian that a mabari is not a riding animal." or "He never walked the same way again."

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utheriel
2011-05-25 09:13 am UTC (link)

She had been focused on one couple, their steps messy and probably a mockery of dancing but with faces aglow with life, as they slowly bobbed around and around in an ever shrinking circle when she heard footsteps making their way closer. She dismissed it at first as a number of people had walked by her that night, on the way for more wine or on a daring trip to ask a lass a spin… or some sloppy combination of both,. It was the sound of a mug being set down that had her eyes darting to the side, glaring up at the intruder. It didn’t lessen any when she saw exactly who it was either.

Sighing she leaned back, putting more distance between them, and looked Conlan over carefully before one brow rose up towards her hairline. It was perhaps not the most welcoming of receptions but there was very little heat in her gaze. She was tired. There was no energy to be found for anger. Though spare reserves would most likely show up when she least expected it, throwing her back into a state of needless fury.

Tilting her head to the side, chin dipping in the shallowest of nods, she listened carefully to him. Her arms crossed slowly across her chest, mouth pursing into a thin line. “What are you doing here,” she asked evenly, voice colored with her suspicion. She had seen him the day prior and the tournament was no small event. With the myriad of people whirling about the place seeing him again so suddenly, so randomly, had left her somewhat on edge.

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conlandelaine
2011-05-25 10:39 pm UTC (link)

Conlan lifted a small piece of sliced fruit to his mouth and bit it. He raised an eyebrow at her accusatory tone.

"Eating... and drinking." He glanced around at the party setting the plate of food between them, then leaning over to lift his mug.

"Also avoiding a really stuffy party, and hoping no one notices me." Clearly running across each other earlier did nothing to lessen her stand offish attitude. Conlan was rather pleased he'd extracted a promise to have her spare his life so long ago, it seemed rather like he would need it.

"What are you doing here?" He was curious as to why the elf was hanging around, she didn't seem to be enjoying herself after all. He'd been dragged to places he didn't want to be by friends, but to get dragged there by oneself, it certainly warranted attention.

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utheriel
2011-06-01 11:36 pm UTC (link)

His answer did very little to ease her wariness and had, if anything, managed to put her more on edge than before. Resisting the urge to fidget she kept her gaze trained on him even as he turned to glance at the people milling around them. “If you had wanted to avoid being seen why did you bother come over and talk to me?” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Why would you come over and speak with me anyway for that matter? I am not exactly the best of company, as you must have already realized,” she added, voice trailing off into little more than a whisper by the end.

Tossing her apple from hand to hand she twisted, head tilting towards the storyteller and the gaggle of people surrounding him. Her teeth gnawed gently on her lower lip and then her shoulders slumped with a soundless sigh. “And I was listening to the story,” she said, “I like them.” Whipping her head around she looked back to Conlan, her chin raised defiantly, as if daring him to comment on her preferences for the tales that were probably more suited for children.

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conlandelaine
2011-06-07 05:53 pm UTC (link)

The corners of Conlan's mouth turned up ever so slightly. He lifted the food on his plate to his mouth and took a bite. Shrugging as she jabbed accusatory questions his way.

"Why would a man looking to avoid attention, come and sit next to a woman who has admitted to driving off all company? It boggles the mind, truly." He lifted his mug to take a sip, and glanced around the party.

"Not that I intend to unleash you upon the guests to see that I'm left alone. Just seems like we're both interested in keeping the same company, ya know, none." He watched the apple move back and fourth between her hands and slide the piled high plate of food closer, a gesture to indicate she was welcome to thieve what he had been given.

"Of course being in each others presence is sort of contradictory, but I get accused of being that a lot. I suppose I'll just have to live with it." He glanced over toward the story teller, and then back to Seda quickly. I thought about questioning her enjoyment of the tales, but it seemed like she'd been battered by life so much, he didn't want to step on something she actually seemed to enjoy.

"I used to be a fan when I was little, eventually I got to find out how little life reflects the stories."