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Death in the Garden [Open]

Hartwig Radulf Grimwald

Member
Circle Mage
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
5
#1
Summer at Skyhold was still quite cool, but the weather was at least nice enough for sitting out in the garden without the need for the litany of layers Hart required to brave the cold of autumn and winter. He wasn't sure if he would ever fully acclimate to the unforgiving southern climes. Here it was drafty or wet or cold or muddy. Many seasons existed solely in shades of white and brown and grey; unpleasant colors all. Nevarra had cold and rain--though mostly relegated to the seasons in which the belonged--but it was the mud that truly got to Hart; getting all over everything and making paths an utter nightmare to walk. Hart could count the number of truly nice days--at least by his own northern-based standards--this area of the world saw annually on one hand. And yet, it had ever so slowly begun to feel like home.

The gardens, especially, had become a source of comfort and satisfaction for him. His own hands had cultivated some of the herbs that now grew here; from seeds to the point where they were plucked out of the ground for potions and poultices. He had always thought his primary business was death, but he had found it oddly calming to spend time tending to plants and learning about their properties. And if nothing else, they provided a welcome distraction when he needed to get away from whatever research he was doing at the given time. He did love his books, but even he reached a point at which the lines started to blur together.

He found himself a bench to sit on that caught the sun, and reached into his pocket to collect Tarsus. The little skeletal creature had been curled up in there since mid-morning; perfectly content. It was easier that way. Quite a few people at Skyhold were unsettled by him; both because he was a rat and because he was skeletal. Necromancy was not well understood in the south, it seemed. Yet another thing that had been a shift for Hart. In Nevarra, Mortalitasi were revered. Here, people either avoided him or asked so many questions it made his head spin. And they had all sorts of notions about what actually went on in Nevarra.

Then again, the south had only just begun to accept mages as beings that deserved freedom. So, he supposed he could not be altogether surprised. It was an awfully uncivilized place he had decided to call home, it seemed. But at least the Inquisitor had created a little bastion for people of all creeds to gather and work towards common goals. Hart felt useful here. Not constantly in the shadow of his own shortcomings. He liked that.

He watched as Tarsus began to play in a flower bed. The spirit animating the little bones was always curious about the world around it. Watching him discover ever more beauty in the world warmed Hart's heart like nothing else could. Though he could do without the collection of strange odds and ends the rat his around Hart's room. He had no idea where his little friend even got half of them. Stolen, probably. Anything caught his fancy and his tiny little hands could carry was fair game. It was always such an assortment of things, too. A shiny bead. A pebble. A tarnished ring. Seeds. Bits of fabric and lace. Once--to Hart's utter mortification--Tarsus had even returned with someone's undergarments. Retunring those had been... awkward.
 
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Vandi Morganach

Inquisition Scout
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
27
#2
Maker, but it felt good to be back in Ferelden! The Western Approach had been hot and dry, the Arbor Wilds had been hot and muggy. There was only so much clothing that you could take off, and while modesty was not one of Vandi’s chief concerns, staying hidden when pretty much every bit of skin below the neck was white enough to reflect the sun was difficult, and fighting naked - though she’d been trained to do it - was not something to be done by choice.

At least she could strip down at night. Hafter had been miserable, even after blowing his undercoat, staying as far away from the campfire as possible and plodding alongside her and flopping theatrically to the ground whenever they stopped, pink tongue lolling. She made sure he had plenty of water to drink and let him plunge into any body of water that looked large and safe, but it had definitely been a change for a wolf used to plowing through snowdrifts.

Fortunately, Nightingale had rotated them back south for a while; Ferelden still needed to be patrolled, and few of the new scouts knew that territory better than Vandi. Hafter had perked back up as soon as they had entered the mountains, finding the patches of snow that lingered in the shadows and rolling in them with abandon.

Skyhold was… nicely cool, and for now, that was enough, but she’d be glad when her report was given and she could restock and strike out further south. She’d seen plenty of strange things since the Breach had torn open the sky, and she was not unaccustomed to magic; the Blackstone Irregulars had employed mages even before the Circle had disintegrated. But a giant fortress on a mountaintop in the middle of nowhere made her twitchy. As welcome as it had been when they were all exhausted, starving, and freezing after the destruction of Haven, it was a bit too convenient. So far, nothing untoward had happened, and repairs actually seemed to be coming along nicely, but she wasn’t planning to linger.

But the Inquisition’s spymaster was a busy woman, so while she was waiting to give her report, she took Josephine’s advice and ducked out into the garden area that had been a barren plot when she’d left. Like the rest of Skyhold, improvements had been made: flowers, herbs, and even a few small fruit trees flourished in the space, with open sky overhead. It was nice. Maybe the place wasn’t so creepy, after all.

Hafter kept close to her side. He wasn’t tame by any stretch, but he knew how to behave in settings like this. Most of the Inquisition was used to the sight of the big, black wolf, but traders, diplomats, refugees, and more were present on the grounds, and while he could be mischievous, he didn't really like scaring people. Fortunately, the garden was not highly populated: a couple of gardeners tending the beds, and a dark haired, bespectacled fellow seated on a sunny bench and gazing at a flower bed … or something in the flower bed.

Beside her, Hafter stiffened and lifted his head, sniffing at the air before dropping to his belly and inching forward. She watched him curiously, ready to call him back if needed, but there was nothing predatory or aggressive in his posture. His ears were pricked forward in curiosity, nostrils twitching, his hackles flat. He sneezed once, twice, then edged closer still, and from the midst of a clump of flowers emerged a rat… skeleton.

Hafter snorted, shook his head, and backed up a bit, sitting up and regarding the tiny thing in bafflement.

This was a first for them both.
 

Hartwig Radulf Grimwald

Member
Circle Mage
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
5
#3
To say that Tarsus was a rat wasn't quite right. He occupied the remains of what had once been a rat, to be sure. And he sometimes exhibited behaviors that were rat-like in nature; perhaps an echo of what had at one point been true. But spirits did that sometimes--tried to mimic life as they understood it. Especially spirits of curiosity that learned by experiencing. By watching and repeating. What he was doing now was quite close to what he had seen Hart do on several occasions; gently tugging away dead leaves and weeds, inspecting blooms for their readiness to be harvested. Perhaps it might have been uncanny for someone unused to such behaviors, but Hart had invited the wisp that had become Tarsus into the empty flesh of that long ago rodent--had had the pleasure of having the curious little things as a constant companion for years now--and he was quite used to the moments in which he showed himself as something so much more than what most would expect.

Hart smiled fondly as little skeletal hands proffered up a flower with an air of pride. But as Hart leaned down to take it from him, he noticed the large creature staring intently at Tarsus.

It was a dog, Hart thought. He wasn't familiar with the different types they had here, but he had heard that Fereldens loved their dogs, and had seen plenty of proof to that effect since arriving at Skyhold. Which had been something of a shock, considering how infrequently he had been exposed to living creatures of that type. He'd been a city creature before coming south; only ever living in Nevarra City for the whole of his life. They had dogs there sometimes, but only the small tame ones that nobles could carry around like fashion accessories. This one had a touch of wildness about it.

Whatever it was, it was huge. And wholly occupied with watching Tarsus like a predator poised to kill; on his belly and ready to pounce like the old mouser that had killed the poor creature that had occupied the body Tarsus now possessed. Except at least five times as large.

Hart felt himself stiffen as he gathered Tarsus up in his hands and cradled him protectively to his chest.

Belatedly--as he sent a fearful look in the direction of the hulking beast--that there was a woman with it. A startlingly calm woman, considering everything. Though she, too had her eyes fixed on Tarsus like he was a curiosity. "Are you responsible for this creature?" He managed to squeak out. "Should it not be collared and leashed? What if it hurts someone?" He ran his fingers reassuringly over Tarsus' smooth skull. No one was going to harm the spirit while Hart was around to do anything about it.

Though, given how utterly useless he was in a fight, he might not be around for much longer.
 

Vandi Morganach

Inquisition Scout
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
27
#4
Vandi’s first thought was that the tiny skeleton was some kind of manifestation of the magic that all but vibrated in the stones of Skyhold, but the haste with which the bespectacled bloke scooped it up and hunched protectively over it as soon as he saw Hafter suggested otherwise.

"Are you responsible for this creature?" he demanded nervously, eyes on the wolf, fingers moving over the shiny bone of the skull. "Should it not be collared and leashed? What if it hurts someone?"

It was a common enough reaction, and Vandi didn’t take offense. “Hafter’s my partner, not my pet,” she replied affably, making a quick, circling gesture with her right hand that brought Hafter back to her side, settling to his haunches and continuing to watch the odd creature. “He doesn’t bite without good reason.” Said reasons being fighting or hunting, and even had it been fully fleshed, a rat was not something that a well-fed wolf would look twice at.

“That’s … unusual,”
she remarked, nodding at the skeletal figure. “Are you animating it?” The fellow had to be a mage of some sort, and his accent marked him as not of Ferelden … though his apparent attachment to an ambulatory skeletal rat would have made that clear even if he hadn’t spoken. She wondered if Mother Giselle had seen it; even after having broken from the Chantry, Fereldans were conservative when it came to displays of magic.
 

Hartwig Radulf Grimwald

Member
Circle Mage
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
5
#5
“Hafter’s my partner, not my pet,” Partner? Certainly the woman did not mean that in any sort of romantic sense? He'd heard Fereldens being called Dog Lords, but he'd never imagined there was any actual bite behind those comments. Aside from a strange affinity for keeping and breeding the things. Hart could not understand it at all. Dogs were loud, required a fair bit of upkeep and attention, and tended to stink. Give him a nice reanimated skeleton any day. At least they didn't smell once the decay subsided.

And if not romantic, what else could this person mean? Partner in what? Business? Hart didn't think that made much sense at all, either. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and peered at her closely. Taking in the leather and fur and abundance of packs. A scout, perhaps? It was hard to tell with Fereldeners. They were always wearing leather. Even the nobles. If he'd been Orlesian, Hart might have called it gauche. As it was, he simply thought it was a... rather strange quirk in southern fashion. Especially given all the wet. Leather was notoriously uncomfortable when soggy. “He doesn’t bite without good reason.”

"And what constitutes 'good reason'?" He asked with another dubious look at the massive creature. At least it was seated beside it's master now, and not crouched like a hunter with eyes on its quarry.

“That’s … unusual,” The woman commented with a nod toward Tarsus as if she had not arrived from out of nowhere with a dog the size of a small horse.

"Tarsus is simply a common house rat, actually. The same you would find in every home from here to Tevinter. Nothing so exotic as whatever that is." This came with a hand wave towards the said small horse.

“Are you animating it?” The question slapped of a general misunderstanding of how necromancy worked, and Hart did his very best not to let out the exasperated breath that was dying to leave him at having to explain the basic tenants of spirit calling for what seemed like the thousandth time since arriving at Skyhold.

"Not actively. That's not how it works. We invite a spirit into the remains and it does the rest of the work." He cradled his dear friend closer, quite positive that he was going to have to listen to how unnatural magic like that was (again, for the thousandth time). He couldn't help but be on the defensive. "Tarsus is a spirit of curiosity. Entirely harmless. It's his body now. He lives in it. Just like you live in yours."
 

Vandi Morganach

Inquisition Scout
Post DAI Timeline
Posts
27
#6
The mage didn’t seem particularly placated by Vandi’s assurance that Hafter wasn’t going to attack without good reason.

"And what constitutes 'good reason'?" he demanded, wary gaze still on the wolf.

“Hunting or fighting,” Vandi replied simply. “And he knows that Skyhold isn’t the place for either.” Which was true as far as it went. "He’ll defend if we’re attacked, but right now he’s just curious about your … friend.” Pet? Familiar? She’d never seen the like of it before, and she wasn’t too proud to say as much. That’s how you learned.

"Tarsus is simply a common house rat, actually,” the mage replied in the manner of one stating the obvious. “The same you would find in every home from here to Tevinter. Nothing so exotic as whatever that is." This last was accompanied by a gesture in Hafter’s direction.

“I can’t speak for Tevinter, but in Ferelden, our rats generally have meat and fur on their bones,” Vandi observed dryly. “Wolves are actually quite common here, but most people fear them. No need, really. They can be a nuisance to unguarded flocks and herds, but even the wild ones won’t attack humans unless they’re starving … or under the control of a demon.” She laid a hand on Hafter’s head, feeling the warmth beneath the thick fur. He’d blown his undercoat in the northern heat, but it would grow back now that they were in normal temperatures. “That’s what happened to Hafter’s pack; he was the only survivor. He was just a pup with a broken leg. I took care of him until it healed, and he chose to stay with me.” You didn’t tame a wolf, and anyone who thought that they could was asking for disaster.

The story was not one that Vandi considered particularly remarkable, and most folk in Ferelden accepted it readily enough, though herders and shepherds remained wary, and city folk couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that Hafter wasn’t a pet (one comtessa in Orlais had insisted on giving Vandi a very expensive perfume “so he would smell like the gentleman that he was”. She’d known better than to even try to put it on him, and she certainly had no need of it. She’d see what the traders here could give her for it.).

But how did one come by an ambulatory rat skeleton? Her first thought was that it was simply animated by magic, but when she voiced the idea, she could all but hear the mage’s eyes trying to roll in his head.

"Not actively. That's not how it works,” he replied, settling into the didactic cadence of an oft delivered lecture. “We invite a spirit into the remains and it does the rest of the work." He seemed to be bracing for a hostile response, holding the tiny skeleton to himself protectively. "Tarsus is a spirit of curiosity. Entirely harmless. It's his body now. He lives in it. Just like you live in yours."

“Except I’m the original occupant of my body,” Vandi replied, mouth quirked in a bemused smile as she added, “though I don’t suppose the rat was using his any more.” Did rats have souls? She decided that she didn’t want to get into that particular subject with present company. “Spirit of curiosity,” she repeated, mulling over the concept, which seemed benign on the surface, if you hadn’t spent the last several months face to face with proof that it was more to it than that.

“You’re from Nevarra?” she asked; between the accent and the ease with which he spoke of subjects that the mages of her acquaintance wouldn’t even discuss, it made sense.

“Vandi Morganach, Inquisition scout,” she introduced herself, realizing that the social niceties had been missed for the humans in the group.
 
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