(002.) hello fade rift my old friend

[dashing]

FORM: crystal
SENDER: Herian Amsel
RECIPIENT: all the Inquisiton
WHAT: sup
WHEN: whatever today might wind up being in fair Thedas.
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Hello! So Herian's background has some dark themes,
and she has some pretty harsh attitudes about mages, the Dalish, and pretty much anything that takes her fancy. I've got an opt out post if there's anything you want me to avoid touching on.

I fear it had been overlong since last we spoke, Inquisition.

( Crisply spoken words, the touch of Starkhaven shaping each sound. )

For those not yet known to me: I am Herian Amsel, Knight Enchanter of the White Spire. For those better acquainted with me, I apologise for my abrupt absence. My orders bid me elsewhere.

( ... and that's all she has to say about that, smoothly moving on. )

I hope the seasons and the Free Marches have not treated you poorly. However, I am bound to lament our residence in any portion of them that is not Starkhaven.

( There is just the faintest touch of humour, maybe. Possibly. You probably imagined it. )

Maker willing, Kirkwall will treat you all with kindness.

Comments

[dashing]

A gift, I'm sure.

( She's not being facetious, her tone conveys sincerity in that... muted Herian kind of way. )

Doubtless there are many in the Inquisition that might agree. ( Mages, for example. Templars. Anyone with an ounce of instinct that doesn't hear the name and feel their skin crawl. )

[thecookery]

[Avery just sort of grunts in acknowledgement, and then a moment of awkward silence passes at the fun train of thought that follows there.]

Don't mind having the docks and markets so close though. Lots of fresh to go in the pot.

[The change of topic is very deliberate and probably pretty obviously so. Subtlety is not her strong suit.]

You're of the Marches, eh? Any local dishes I'm not allowed to miss?

[dashing]

I am from the Starkhaven alienage, and then was moved to the Circle. There are many cuisines of the Marches I fear I am as unfamiliar with as you.

( Her tone is contemplative, no hint of poor temper or judgment in it, just... a statement of fact, as she mulls over what might have stood out as a food from her childhood. )

Haggis. Sheep's pluck cooked into a pudding inside the stomach. The ingredients are not unique to Starkhaven, but that method of preparation is, I think.

[thecookery]

Odds are I could manage that, I think. But you can let me know if I've mucked it up somehow, yeah?

[dashing]

That can be done.

So close to Starkhaven as we are, there may be some knowing a recipe that you find to your satisfaction.

[thecookery]

Next time I'm in market, I'll have a look and give you a shout after.

[dashing]

You have my thanks.

( Although there is a brief pause... )

Are you sure it is not unnecessary? I imagine your hands are full with much to do, already.

[thecookery]

How's learning new recipes not part of the job?

[dashing]

True enough. My apologies.

[thecookery]

Keep them. It's nothing.