#v; fasta vass

[inspirethesun]

Ungeniously, his head frivolously moved out of hiding without even waiting for someone else to join him. The overseas journey - the unwelcome meeting in the screaming seagull and the aggravated situation around an elf mage - all this evoked the longing for an extended bath and sufficient food. A meal with a handful of wine. "Should I suffer any damage from it, it will go on your shoulders, Kevesh," Red Jenny agreed to his side. She had clearly hired enough for one day. But what else did he expect? That the stubborn elf would welcome him, beyond good and evil? Wishful thinking. No more and no less. The closer his hurrying steps led him to the chosen inn, the more the anticipation tinged in him. A bisent. A bisent... Fasta vass! The rumbling and exhausting slow running speed of the huge beast behind them, stimulated his nerves with every further performance. "Fasta vass, Fasta-vass, Fas-ta..v-a-ss", every sound of the buffalo behind him complemented each other. With nieces the city fairy had been able to choose an animal that did not correspond to Ferelden's entire fervor: stinking. Abnormally stinking and burning in his nostrils. "Quod viator sursum ad ingens sordida", the Altus hissed towards the elf in the meantime, completely annoyed, and literally slammed the door of the inn back into the hinges. If she were to drag this monster of existence into it, she would have to do it with raging violence. After all, it was of the utmost importance to inform the owner of the inn of his arrival and, accordingly, to directly lodge in one of the rooms.                                                    ---- "If you even come close to my hair, Sera" - it insistently added to his sip of wine, which flowed down his throat pleasantly - "I will subject you to a lesson of 'blood magic and its devastating effects'." A high pressed sound of the buffalo at her side and already the next sip flowed down his throat, trying to suppress the presence of the stinking cattle from his perception. He didn't know how she had gotten this monster in, but he didn't care at all. The warmth of the past bath still stuck like a glowing glow on his tanned skin and his dark - clean - hair directed back into perfection with every second. Just like him: perfected. His fingertips swung over the thin edge of the wine glass, his back leaned more focused into the back of the chair and his eyes wandered to the appearance of the dweomer, who joined them, as expected. Immediately the dwarf attracted attention. With his suggestion to walk around in the merits of an elf, his hearing was astonished. Nevertheless, he commented it with a 'tsk'. "Don't you trust your new girlfriend with a little self-confidence, or do you just think she's moronic?" His hand reached for the wine bottle, filled his half-empty glass with it and pulled up his mouth corners questionably. "Not that you misunderstand me. Creating an illusion is one of the exercises that a coniugatori addicti must perform in his first hours. An extremely arduous spell, but not worth mentioning. Not everyone seems to have such a clever mind like me." Gently, the wine bottle found its way back to the tabletop, noiseless and fine as it belonged to someone of his standing. Among them was to rescue a naughty mage from her annoyance with nieces or to interfere in the irrelevance of other irrelevant city governors. "Na via lerno victoria" - similar to what his countrymen said. "Charming," shrugged his strong shoulders. "You demand from me a portion of charm and refinement. I think you've finally realized what my strengths are, Varric." The glass that had just been filled between his fingertips was emptied with a sly face. Well, if that didn't cry out for sophisticated entertainment, which corresponded exactly to his tradition as Vint, he couldn't think of anything better. "As you wish." - Nodding, the mage pushed himself out of the chair, which anyway began to press against his spine, and flicked in the direction of the groaning buffalo next to Sera - "But there was another thing ... You can count on my indispensable talents when you put an end to this abstruseness. One more sound from this thing and the need to handle a little blood magic creeps up on me. Fasta vass!“

#text

[shootingstarlord]

dusteringtopside:

“…”

“The fuck was that supposed to be?”

     It was a knee jerk reaction, with his staff out of reach and not wanting to reveal himself as a mage to any wandering templars, or reveal himself as Tevinter to any wandering Ferelden mages... a punch seemed like the only option. 

Unfortunately, the intruder seemed made of tough stuff, and she was much shorter than he had anticipated. Fasta vass, what was a Dwarven warrior doing this far south? She wasn’t dressed like any Dwarf he’d ever seen, but he’d mostly been exposed to Lyrium merchants.

It didn’t seem like she wanted to fight him, maybe talking might work. “The door was locked, who are you to be unlocking doors to strange abandoned shacks in the Hinterlands!” Andraste preserve him if too much of his Tevene accent came through, it was worse when he panicked.  

#v; fasta vass #rp: kevesh #dusteringtopside #love u