(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]

I should be glad to hear your accounts of things. ( If nothing else, she is sure different people will value different events for their significance - she suspects that the more she hears of things, the better. )

Have you been well, Lady Bonaventura? ( a navaaayyyy, if you will )

[foxsays]

Let me know when you'd like to come for dinner then, we have a good view of the docks and I never know how to cook enough for just two people. [So if you've got people you want to take plenty of food to Herian, you can take all the food you like to those people.]

Busy. Good busy. Being by the sea somewhere more like home makes me miss it more and less in the same breath. What of you - one day you were here and then you were gone, and no amount of asking the scouts or the soldiers would get a word out of them. [Not bad, not bad, you can come to the parties.]

[dashing]

I was sent to see some tasks done, but I am not at liberty to speak of them. ( Her tone is even as ever, but there is a slant of good humour to it. ) Most asked likely did not know.

( Most, but she's not naive enough to think all. Nightingale's scouts, man. Scary and everywhere. )

Dinner would be a pleasure. I must confess myself longing for food that is not travel rations.

[foxsays]

Then I hope you completed them without coming to any harm even if some of us might have sent things for people who give the impression of not being very good at taking care of themselves. [Teasing, gently teasing, your gift was appreciated forever ago also Araceli you aren't even twenty-two you don't get to chide knight-enchanters.] Maybe you will be the first of many faces to return back.

[More than a few disappeared, slipped right through everyone's fingers. Not that she's counting. Or reporting it back to people. Not at all.]

Anything like that is banned in my kitchen where I can rule with an iron fist, just let me know your opinions on fish and spices.

[dashing]

Maybe so. ( There's a pause, thoughtful, and her voice is a little softer when she speaks. ) Are there many others departed in my absence?

( It seemed likely, others sent on missions, perhaps some lost in battles and missions. Others could have returned through the rifts, Araceli herself could have gone home. It had been... pleasant, to find her present still. It might be that she is able to better acquaint herself with more people, now she is returned. )

I am content to entrust myself to your judgment. My mastery of spices is... not to be considered a 'mastery' by any definition. Should I— would it be prudent to acquire some wine?

[foxsays]

Many that I have called friend have been unable to join us so far in making lives in Kirkwall. [As diplomatic a way as it can be put. Her own pause is more painful, a small quiet thing.] Martel, I don't know if you knew him, he died in the fighting at the Winter Palace.

[One death (that they know of) amongst all that should be counted as very good odds amongst all those things but when it's a friend, when it's someone who cared about you and made you laugh, it isn't. And who knows where the rifters go.

(Who knows after Craintellier, would people blame her for not trusting or would they stare at her sideways like she's a mad girl?)]

Do you like spices or do they upset your mouth or your stomach? I don't want a guest for dinner feeling unwell just because of how Korrin and I prefer our meals but wine is welcome since we have none. [Rum, brandy, maraas-lok, there's no space for wine in that little place unless you bring your own good shout Herian.]