(no subject)

[singularwill]

FORM: Sending Crystal
SENDER: Solas
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: Solas is asking all the Rifters to come get a check up
WHEN: After they return from the Antiva mission, before the Fade shenanigans
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Eggs

Hello. Some of you already know me, but for those who don't, my name is Solas. I was the mage who first helped the Herald with the Anchor. I have been researching the remaining shards, and I ask that each of you that possess one come to see me - I will be able to soothe any related pain, and assess the condition of your shard, and of the anchor as a whole.

Also, if anyone has any questions, feel free to contact me here. Thank you.

Comments

[singularwill]

Ah, Galadriel. Of course. I was wondering when we would become acquainted. I was informed of your... predicament upon my arrival.

But I take no issue. Indeed, I am keen to speak with you.

[laurenande]

Excellent; then you may expect me shortly.

[Her etiquette regarding the crytals is still a bit wanting; their connection goes silent without her bothering with anything akin to a goodbye. But, as she was headed to meet with him, a goodbye would have seemed strange.

It takes only a few minutes for her to arrive in the tower. She had debated leaving her guards, but they had become more attentive, more suspicious of late, and would certainly notice if they lost time. If they required privacy, she would make due with disorienting them, as she had done when she spoke with Katniss.

As it is, Solas is surprisingly easy to locate and, once she sees him, she instantly recalls why she knows his name. The posters had been an exceptional likeness.]

[singularwill]

[For her part, Galadriel was no harder to identify. Solas stood to greet her, struck with an almost wistful nostalgia, which he quickly tucked away deep in his breast.]

Lady Galadriel, I presume? It is good to finally meet you, in person.

[laurenande]

[His standing is a small thing, but familiar in a way that is deeply ingrained in her; it brings a smile to her face and, automatically, she offers a short bow, hand over her heart, as she approaches.]

And you as well.

[She draws herself up as she comes closer and, to her credit, her smile maintains even as the templars that trailed her here stomp gracelessly into the quiet room. There is a touch of strain in the expression, but it is a small thing and easily hidden as she speaks.]

I would introduce my...company, but they have been...reluctant to share their names with me. They are not, I have learned, given overmuch to conversation.

[They take up their posts flanking the door, as was their wont, and Galadriel refrains from drawing herself back to her full height. It is a simple sort of deception, she's found, and one that her guard finds all to convincing. Bending to speak softly is not, it seems, terribly suspicious when one speaks to those who are considerably shorter.]

I have learned much of the...[She has grown largely used to the word "magic" but still hesitates to use it, at least when having conversations about the nature of power, of the function of such things.]--Magic of this world, of how it behaves and sings across your veil, but there is much yet that I do not understand. I ask you excuse my inevitable, and likely prolonged curiosity.

Unfortunately, I am...catastrophically inept when it comes to wielding power as you do, and it has limited my study. I have had some success minding and manipulating the power within the mark, but the source that feeds it, the method of it, is very strange to me.

I have many questions I would ask but, before I burden you with the task of answering me endlessly, I would offer you the same kindness. If anything I have learned might interest you, I would recount it gladly.