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Comments

[harillen]

Yes, I imagine necromancy is hard to practice when dead slaves don't fill the ground.

[The words come quickly, a snap defense that Dorian doesn't deserve. As soon as he's spoken, he flinches and sighs, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.]

That was uncalled for, forgive me. If it is agreeable to you, perhaps we could investigate this tenuous connection to the Fade. [He reaches for the magic again, attempting to cast pull of the abyss, but the power slides through his fingers. Nothing changes. Nothing happens. Not even anything bad.] This is infuriating. [Now he knows how human mages feel.

But he's smart enough not to say that, at least. He's dug his own grave well enough already.]

[sparkler]

[wow solas u dick... really, though, Dorian's pretty used to comments like that. It's what he gets for being a necromancer from Tevinter, and under certain circumstances he'd say something like that him.

It would be a joke, though.

Still, he's willing to let it slide. More or less.]

No harm done - we'll teach you proper manners one of these days, Solas, along with proper fashion sense.

[He watches, noting the lack of effect.]

You don't feel anything at all, isn't that right? No connection? I even tried taking a drop of lyrium, to see if it made any difference, but no. It enhanced my spells, but there was no effect on my lack of connection to the Fade.

[And he didn't want to use much of it - not with two Templars quickly running out of their own supply. Or lacking a supply at all, in some cases.]

[harillen]

[Rolling his eyes, Solas clasps his hands behind his back. He won't rise to Dorian's bait. This time.

Especially because he's inclined to agree with Dorian on at least one point: his robes are in terrible shape and in desperate need of help. Still, he'd rather wear something familiar and threadbare than the jumpsuit. Not even he'd put on that tragedy.]

As you said, the connection is there, just... distant. It is as though the thread has been spun out too far. [This concerns him, and his brows draw together. Threads stretched to their limits frayed. And then they broke.

He can't stop the shudder of revulsion that ripples through him.] Have you considered what might happen if that thread were to break?

[sparkler]

I try not to.

[He has, of course he has. But all he can do is hope that it won't happen - that it's impossible. How could they prevent it, after all, if it were to happen? They can't even touch the Fade, much less stop any fate-worse-than-death.]

Considering the strange things that happen here, I'm not so certain that an attempt to make our connection stronger would be wise. Still, more research and investigation ought to be done. It is... unsettling.

[harillen]

Indeed. To be cut off from the Fade... It is like missing a limb. To think the dwarves live this way.

[Solas tuts softly and shakes his head. He really can't go a minute without insulting someone, but he doesn't seem to realize that's what he's just done.]

Should you like a partner in this research, I shall be happy to lend my expertise. [Or just steamroll right over Dorian's opinions with his own. There's an equal chance of that as of Solas being genuinely helpful.]

[sparkler]

[He'll just leave that one alone for now. The dwarves can defend their own Fade-less lives, or at least they could if there were any here.]

Naturally, any help would be appreciated.

[...right up until Solas starts totally ignoring him and doing his own thing. But Dorian will burn that bridge when they come to it.]

However, you probably ought to acclimate yourself to this place, first. Find some decent clothing, so you no longer look like a vagrant.

[harillen]

[Solas gives Dorian a look. It's the sort of look you give to an errant child or a misbehaving pupil. It's flatly unimpressed.

But Dorian isn't wrong.]

As long as it isn't that... jumpsuit they gave us upon arrival. That I will not wear. I suppose I shall have to rely upon your expertise to see me dressed appropriately, won't I?

[sparkler]

[Strangely, he's missed that look. It's familiar, after all, and so very Solas.]

There isn't much to work with here, not even with my skill. You might be stuck with those rags for some time, I'm afraid.