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

[nobroth]

He blinked, staring a bit at being so suddenly lauded, and-- "You sound a bit like a Revered Mother. You know that, right? That's... almost a part of the Chant."

Or it sounded like it. He knew the message, but he wasn't one of the people who had memorised the whole damn Chant just to get the praise of the Mothers of the Monastery.

"What was it that one old woman kept getting wrong... Let he who brings ham to the least of the Maker's creations be breaded or something..."

[plate_builder]

“I presume you are referring to a formal religion. I can assure you I am not a member of one. I am not sure I’d be welcomed.”

Vincent And Cloud were not the only ones seeking redemption. And there was a chance his crimes were greater.

“But I like the ham line.”

[nobroth]

"It was supposed to be 'those who bring harm'. Apparently she was very hungry while she was practicing," he said with a small smile. "The only part she got right was the part about the maleficars."

[plate_builder]

“Maleificars?” Reeve asked. He did not know, could not know that he could be opening a can of worms there. One that might make him highly defensive.

Mostly for parallels.

“What would those be?”

[nobroth]

"Blood mages. Any mage who used the power inherent in blood to cast their spells. It let them mold and control people's minds. All sorts of horrible things," he explained. "They usually make deals with Demons to get that power without realising that it gives the demon a foothold in their soul."

Alistair shook his head. "It's pretty common in Tevinter, but I saw a lot of it in Kirkwall when I was there, too."

[plate_builder]

"An interesting dilemma," Reeve agreed. And again his mind turned to Sephiroth. Power from a demon with a foothold in his soul. In a way, the man had always been doomed. "So much troubled caused by so few."

[nobroth]

He glanced over. "That's how it always goes, though," he said. "A huge amount of trouble is always caused by a few people. Like the Magisters from Tevinter who walked into the Fade - they caused the Blight and centuries of death. Seven people killed... generations because of their hubris. One idiot blew up an entire Chantry in Kirkwall and started a war. It just keeps going."

[plate_builder]

Oh dear. Blowing up a Church? The rest Reeve had no frame of reference to understand. But that he knew was bad.  “And people who have done no wrong are forced to suffer. I know I am not without sin, but I have tried to fix those harms I have caused. It is always an uphill battle.”

[nobroth]

He exhaled. "Which is... well, part of why I'm here, I guess. Why not fight a giant spider to the death to try to save people. Not a bad way to go out. And the Wardens started it, so a Warden needed to fix it." And so it'd been him. He figured, anyway. Why not him. At least he could do one good thing.

[plate_builder]

"And unfortunately the weight came down on your shoulders," Reeve said. Yes. he got it.

And was reminded a lot of another person who didn't deserve the fate that had come down upon them. At least Aeris had known going in, and faced it with a smile. And proceeded to save the world with her death. Twice.

"Quite a bit of strength to do such a thing, Alistair. I am sorry for your pain. Perhaps here you will find the peace you deserve."

[nobroth]

"We'll see." He shrugged slightly. "I mean, it's already not got a war between mages and Templars, no giant spiders, no creepy Darkspawn blowing up entire conclaves that are trying to make peace... So it's already an improvement."

And after a pause, he added, "And I'm not dead. That's... That's not a bad thing."

[plate_builder]

"Unless it's an illusion," Reeve reminded. He wasn't here to argue that it wasn't, because Alistair was clearly bothered by the chances that it was. "But I like to think we have a bit of charm."

Not dead. That's a very good thing. Reeve nods his agreement at that idea.

[nobroth]

Alistair gave a fragment of a laugh. "A bit of charm. Well. You're not entirely wrong. Nothing's dripping with water from who knows where and you've actually got food and fire. So far, this place... Like I said. Improvement."

[plate_builder]

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," Reeve laughed, shaking his head. "Well..."

He rose from the fire and smiled. "There is some tea in the kitchen. Would you like a cup?"

[nobroth]

His brows raised and he decided-- "Sure. Why not. It's cold enough that anything warm's a pleasure. Something I didn't cook, too. Which will be the real positive."

[plate_builder]

"Are you implying we should keep you away from the cooking detail?" Reeve chuckled. "I make a wicked grilled cheese sandwich, but little more than that."

Most of his food was stuff that could be made by heating it up on a hot plate. Ah college and then executive life. It was not good on him. Still, he managed to stay trim and fit enough.

[nobroth]

"Unless you like your food a nice, even grey, I'm probably not the best to cook anything - I mean, you won't get ill from it, but you won't get anything else from it, either," Alistair said. It was a flaw he knew well - and didn't mind.

[plate_builder]

"Now that sounds like a unique form of magic that everyone should be witness to at least once, even if it is best if they are not forced to consume it," Reeve mused, just because... how did you turn everything gray? Peas. He'd like to see this man make peas.

[nobroth]

Alistair snorted. "That would be a first. No, honestly, the entire time we were fighting the Blight, every time it was my turn to cook, the entire group was suddenly not hungry after the first time I took my hand to it. I'm-- I'm not at all meant to cook. I do all right now with roasting meat on a spit, but anything more complicated and you might as well go graze with the druffalo."

[plate_builder]

"Perhaps you just need someone to teach you," Reeve countered. "I'd offer, but I'm not much skilled at it either."

Still he doesn't mind any of it.

"There is a group that cooks in the inn every day, to make communal lunch. Maybe you can learn from them."

[nobroth]

"Eh... I'll sooner do other things if no one minds. Leave the cooking to people who know what they're doing. I'll... just roast the occasional rabbit-- Wait." His brows drew down. "Are there rabbits here?"

[plate_builder]

"Frankly, I don't know. I haven't gone much outside of the village, and I don't assist with cooking."

No doubt Alistair will figure out something he desires. There will be work here, there will always be work here.

[nobroth]

"Well. I'll have to borrow a bow from somewhere for hunting anyway," he exhaled. "This place managed to leave all my armour and weapons behind, so unless I plan to run after them like a moron and strangle them to death, hunting isn't going to happen right away."

The problem was that he could so easily see himself chasing a rabbit.

Why was he like this.

[plate_builder]

"I think there's someone who teaches archery," he says. "Saw a posting near the desk... A Hawke. Perhaps you should look them up."

Because instruction on archery wouldn't be a bad thing, correct?

[nobroth]

His brows raised quickly. "Wait.

"Hawke's here? I stayed behind so he wouldn't--"

But he exhaled, the memory coming at once. "Might be a different Hawke."