One | Fate Emptied of Hope

[nobroth]

WHO: Alistair Theirin
WHERE: Fountain Square/Inn
WHEN: Dec 27, Evening
OPEN TO: One at the fountain (Claimed by Zev), OTA at the Inn, per usual.
WARNINGS: None - will edit if any occur.

---

'Cross Veil and into the valley of dreams:

"Very funny," came the voice from near the fountain. Dripping wet and cold, Alistair looked challengingly up at the sky, arms held out to either side. "But I don't know how you thought I'd fall for this! This isn't Redcliffe," he called. "And it's definitely not Denerim or Kirkwall or Wycome. It's not any of those tiny towns in Orlais. I've never seen this place before, so it's not my memory, cheater!"

Bending down, he picked up the first thing he saw - oh, a rock, that'll help - and threw it upward, not really noticing where it went. He heard it fall on the ground somewhere, but that was neither here nor there. It was proof he'd thrown it the wrong way, if anything.

"I don't trust you, Nightmare!" More agitated, he started to look for another rock. Another anything. "Or is this some Despair Demon's work? Encroaching on your territory now that you lost the Inquisitor? Well tough luck to you both - I'm not afraid anymore, and there's nothing left for me to Despair over. I might be the Maker's own idiot, but I'm not going to trust this illusion!"

Where had his sword gone. His shield, his armour. Which direction was the damned Nightmare?! He couldn't fight the damned thing if he couldn't see it, and he couldn't see it. Anywhere. Whatever Demon it was fueling this illusion, it was better than any he'd fought through yet, and he didn't want to think about what that meant.

---

In ignorance stumbling:

There was a good fire burning, and that was nice. Really, the place was nicer than roughly every other inn he'd ever seen, including the Hanged Man -- Well, honestly, it far surpassed the Hanged Man, the Pearl, definitely the Spoiled Princess. Places with names he couldn't remember because all he'd been concerned about was finding the bottom of his mug and then having another.

No such luck here, not that he minded. He'd had years to leave that particular vice behind, not that it had been a kind one while he'd had it. But at least now he was warm, dry, and, though confused, knew a few things for certain: There was food, there was shelter, and there was a chance - at least something of a chance - that this wasn't the Fade.

As he stood by the fire, pleasantly toasting himself, he realised he had a lot to think about. And that thought made his head hurt. Nose wrinkled, Alistair rubbed at his temples, muttering a quiet, "Ow."

Comments

[clouded_heart]

Demons. More demons. Why did people keep talking about demons?

"Franklin, but everyone calls me Foggy." He offers out his hand to shake after setting down the knife he was working on. "Are you from Hell as well?"

[nobroth]

He blinked but easily shook the offered hand. "No, I'm from Ferelden, but most people think it's some form of hell. Rain and wet dog smell everywhere. Do people often come here from hell?"

[clouded_heart]

"I have no idea where Ferelden is. I'm guessing a different world, like Thedas is."

Yes, exactly that, Foggy.

"I don't know about often? There's a guy here who has been there for a while and talks about demons. And when you said demon..." He extrapolated.

[nobroth]

"--Ferelden is in Thedas. How do you kno-- Oh wait, you probably talked to somebody from Orlais or something. They never mention Ferelden." His nose wrinkled. "We're the arse end of Thedas, according to... pretty much anybody else."

And technically, he shouldn't be saying 'we.' He knew that. He'd been exiled. He wasn't Fereldan anymore.

[clouded_heart]

"... I met a guy from the Qunari on Thedas? And Zevran, he's from Thedas. We weren't discussing geography, just they mentioned the place was Thedas. So you're from that place too?"

Welp, seems like geography in alien planets is incoming.

[nobroth]

"Zev's a friend of mine. But unless the Qunari was calling himself Sten or Arishok, I probably didn't know him," he offered. "Zev's from Antiva, which is far to the north, and all the Qunari lands are even farther north than that. Islands, mostly. I lived down to the south, where it was cold and rainy, until I was about twenty. The last few years, I've mostly been in the Free Marches, which is kind of in the middle."

[clouded_heart]

"The Iron Bull." Which was more 'title' than name, to his ears, but whatever. People call him Foggy, he can't really throw stones.

"I hope you know that while I appreciate your explanation, I am almost certainly not going to remember most of it."

[nobroth]

"Bull. Bull's here?" Well, that was something, at least. "Don't worry about remembering it. After all, from what I'm gathering, it's not like you live there. Probably won't ever be there, so it's nothing to worry about, really. I only remember it because I walked all over it."

[clouded_heart]

"Since it's a highly unlikely event that there's being another giant man with giant horns and one eye called The Iron Bull, yes, he's here."

He shakes his head. "I barely remember outside my city. I rarely leave my neighbourhood, honestly. New York is really different from anything I've heard about in Thedas."

[nobroth]

"...What about Old York, then?" It seemed a logical question to him. If there was--

No, he wasn't even going to explain it to himself. He got the joke.

[clouded_heart]

"Was just 'York'," Foggy states with a grin. "New Hampshire? For Hampshire. They weren't super creative."

[nobroth]

"They really weren't," he agreed, nose wrinkled. "See, if I had a town, I'd name it Bob. Good, solid name. Easy to say. Bob."

[clouded_heart]

"You can't name a town Bob. It'd get confusing. 'Where are you going?', 'Bob.' could mean too many things. You should make it unambiguous. Like... Slartimus. Something that can't be a person's name."

[nobroth]

"...Is there anybody here named Bob?"

That seemed an important question to ask at this juncture.

[clouded_heart]

"I honestly don't know. I haven't been here that long myself and I've spent a chunk of that time settling in and getting myself some work I can do."

[nobroth]

"See, then nobody would get it confused," he said, nodding as if it was the most obvious thing. "It'd just be the village name."

[clouded_heart]

"I don't know if there's a Bob though. You'd have to check the census."

[nobroth]

"Eh... I'll just hope there's not a Bob." He wasn't committed to the idea, not really, but it was something to think about other than giant spiders and green skies - and right now, that was a worthwhile endeavor.

[clouded_heart]

"You know what? No, we're not naming a village Bob. What's wrong with North and South? It's descriptive. It's easy to work out." He resumes sharpening the knife carefully. It's muscle memory, but an old one. Rusty skill.

[nobroth]

Alistair bit at his lips before suggesting, "North Bob and South Bob?"

[clouded_heart]

"You are a ridiculous man," Foggy states, but he's grinning when he says it.

[nobroth]

"I've been told that many, many times. Usually by Chantry sisters with willow switches ready to smack my knuckles or worse," he agreed, his little smile spreading into a grin.

[clouded_heart]

Foggy's smile fades a bit. "Yeah, not a big fan of the corporal punishment, myself. A smack on the butt was about the worst we got."

[nobroth]

"I wish our Chantry sisters and Revered Mothers had been so gentle," he exhaled, shaking his head. "I think my knuckles were bruised the whole time I was in the monastery."

[clouded_heart]

"... orphan?"