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Critical Role Sentence Starters

Pelle cocked his head curiously, what an odd thrust of panic he’d just witnessed. Was that a--a burn mark on the wall? What had Fenris even done? Pelle had wandered away for hardly ten seconds to borrow a bottle of ink from Josephine. He came back to a scorched black splat, glass scattered in the wooden planks of the floor, and a very sporadic elf trying to cover the marked wall with his hand lurched behind his back. 

“You didn’t--happen to find that stray bottle of Tears of the Dead did you?” Pelle inquired. 

He knew he ought to have left those bottles higher. He was lucky that Fenris hadn’t touched the Antivan Fire. He’d been examining the grenades recently, trying to think of some kind of herb mixture that might make them a little more effective on stronger foes. The bottles on his desk contained mixtures of herbs and things that held untested results, essentially concoctions of a curious elf. 

He shook his head slowly trying to hold back a grin that one could hardly differentiate between exasperation or humour. The look on Fenris’ face had told him that the warrior had had a somewhat unfortunate squabble with the bottle and had lost.  

While individual Templars tend to be pretty okay, I reserve the right for opinions

@lyriummarkcd liked for a starter!

    Many countries were steadily getting more interested in what the Inquisition was doing, though the Inquisitor himself knew very little about Thedas. He knew much about Seheron and some about Antiva, but the rest was a mystery. 

    Tevinter started taking a particular interest in the Inquisition and very few members seemed to have direct experience there. Dorian was an option, of course. Though due to past events, Eon would rather not speak to him. Eon would ask around when he had the chance or when something came up. It only took months but finally someone showed up that could help. According to Varric, someone was visiting Hawke who had once lived in Tevinter. That was the extent of information he was given.

    Eon didn’t hesitate to head up to the battlements to find Hawke in his usual spot. Though he was speaking to somebody-- an elf? Was the new Tevinter expert truly an elf?

    Hawke noticed the Inquisitor come by and turned his attention. “Ah, and here he is. The one and only Eon Adaar.”

Ellana looked up from her tea at the words, staring at Fenris across the table. “Well, that’s just just not true at all,” she said, setting her cup in its saucer with the soft clink of china. “Maybe there are few things you care about, but you DO care. And, well…”

For a man who was usually fashionably late, Dorian had arrived at the designated meeting point hours early. It wasn’t like he had anything to do. The Hissing Wastes were- as the name clearly implied- full of nothing, nothing, and, surprisingly, nothing. At least from up his current vantage point, he could easily watch the Venatori he was supposed to hunt. They were hardly little more than ants scurrying around a hill from there, but even that was more entertaining than watching the sand shifting.

He couldn’t see much of their encampment from where he was, but he could make out enough. A few tents, at least a half-dozen soldiers, not counting the two mages. The metal bars of a large cage peeking out from over the dunes. He couldn’t see what was in it, but he could see the fire glinting off of it. It was a large, ugly thing. Large enough to hold a few people.

That was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Slowly, the mage slid back down onto his heels, tearing his gaze away from the cage. It left him feeling unsettled- worse, it made their job even more difficult than it was to begin with.

Fenris: Why is everything sexual with you?