Thread: A Land of Adventure, That Thedas Is (SJ and Luana)

Clack, clack, clack, clack the sound reverberated amongst the sun warmed stones. Summer in Orelais was certainly a beautiful time. Of course, fall was less stifling when one had to dress appropriately. Appropriate being a cinched corset, layers of silks and samite. Heavy skirts and thick blouses. The elderly couple raised their heads to the approaching sound. At first it was a strange, glittering creature. As it approached their mouths opened unbecomingly. This was no monster of the valley nor creature of the fade but a woman. A mane of wildly curling red hair flowed down to her waist, heedless of Orlesian hair styling. Her skin was pearlescent, accentuated by the mask that covered half of her face. Many masks were fairly plain yet this one seemed to shimmer somewhere between green and blue. The shape of it was smaller, allowing her nose to be seen, and was vaguely reminiscent of a butterfly. The woman's green eyes shine brightly through the mask. Her gown was the color of ice, the hem of her skirt painstakingly embroidered to appear frosted while her corset was a blaze of red with tone on tone flames embroidered in. In her hand she carried her staff, letting the haft strike the stone with every right step. At the crest of the staff two dragons twirled with one another until their noses touched one dragon of purple the other green. Despite the auspiciousness of the woman's attire a pair of long, pointed, and multiply pierced ears jutted from the side of her head. Though the mask covered half her face it appeared the woman did not bear the facial markings usual to her people. She walked with a slow, purposeful stride towards the cafe, as though she had all the time in the world. A man stood at the entrance to the small and his back straightened a little. Tea, if you please, not too hot, she said with that well practiced nonchalance. The man was below her, barely worth even those few words. She turned and without hesitating moment walked to Callum's table. She stopped beside the chair across from him. Charged silence followed as she gazed at the man. This Cat of Kirkwall she had heard so much about. Her eyes have nothing away and her face even less. She turned her head towards the building just as a woman came scurrying out with a tray laden with cup, saucer, a steaming tea pot and small crock of honey. The tray was set down on the table. The Mage woman nodded to the serving woman as she took her seat. With a bow the serving woman scurried away. She said nothing as she poured out her tea and added a fair helping of honey. Her eyes drifted back to Callum's as she stirred her tea. Everything she did seemed methodical and deliberate, as if even every blink of her eyes she consciously controlled. Callum, I presume, she finally said in a soft voice. Despite her quiet volume her tone spoke like a clangor of Chantry bells. He, too, was beneath her. She raised the cup to her dark ruby lips and took a bit. I am appointed court Mage of her most royal of majesties Queen Celeste of Orlais. You may call me Kira, as I understand we shall be working together. She took another sip of her tea as she continued to study Callum as though studying an ancient tome containing a myriad of secrets. Yet the small raise of her lip suggested she was not all together pleased. You come from the marches, yes? Kirkwall, how very fascinating. I have not yet had the fortune to see the Marches for myself. A spectacular history there. I had the very good fortune to meet the Inquisitor some time ago, of course that was several years ago. It seems the Maker plays his hand in the most surprising of place. Were you by chance there when the circle fell? The knight commander going mad with red lyrium. How very interesting it would have been to see. It seemed the woman had no wish to yet discuss their business arrangement. Though by the way she kept her staff across her knees and the constant flit of her eyes in many direction she thought she had good cause.