#tevinterborn

Skyhold was full of interesting things. Interesting artifacts, interesting books, interesting people - it was like a constant buffet for the mind, even though Fen'Harel had to sneak bits and pieces during his work day or sneak through the castle by night in order to actually enjoy the tidbits he spotted by day.

This was especially annoying in the case of books. Nearly all of the books of the Inquisition were amazingly interesting to him, given that he knew only fragments of what had happened throughout the last ten thousand years, but it was still embarrassingly hard for him to read. He had only been here for a few weeks, after all, and his time walking the Fade had been filled with so much searching and finding and scouring of dreams and memories that he had had hardly any time to teach himself to read the script they used for their books, or any of the other languages of this world. For some reason, he was able to speak the language they called 'Common', but other than that and Elvhen, none of the other languages felt natural on his lips yet. What he had learned of other languages, and of reading of Common, he had learned by delving into the memories of the inhabitants of Skyhold and watching them learn.

But of course, this way of learning took time and patience - a lot more patience than he had, especially because there were just so many books he wanted to read right away. It was frustrating that he had to cower himself into a corner of the library during the night, stumbling over words while he tried to decipher the history of kingdoms that had existed for a shorter time than his own palace.

His clothes are muddied and torn, and not even a bit of sewing would fix up the frayed ends. He had not seen the fall until his foot slipped, and down he went, tumbling down a small slope where branches and vines cut at his robes and bruised his cheek. That had been a while ago, and still Solas is not ready to part with the warm furs of his attire, even if it may make him appear as if he were a 'hermit.' 

Bull was at ease somewhere in the background, which was fine, Krem liked his designated chair to chug liquor off in the corner. He was parked in front of the entrance, always left to wonder why that inquisition scout would stand there and look to her feet or what Sera was throwing around in her room above him.

His frequent presence here at made it easy for him to notice different things, like the Tevinter mage coming through the door. He's heard an abundance of Iron Bull stories about Dorian, but never spoke much with him.

      Varric groaned and rolled over in the cot. He wasn't happy about the wounds he received from battle. He told them to not mess with the rift; it was too strong for them at the moment but they insisted and they fought it and they almost died. Well, he almost died. Everyone else seemed to have the means to recover with potions but ran out when it got to him. Varric stared down Dorian as he entered the room. 

Minrathous, despite his beliefs, hadn't been impossible to drudge though despite it being his first time. All of the mages he had smuggled her were safe and sound, neither slaves nor mighty magisters. With carefully forged documents and the right words to the right people, all of them had decent jobs that most Laetans had, ranging from a merchant's assistant to a archivist. Three weeks of long days and paranoia had been worth the effort in the end and now it was only a week until the ship arrived to take him to Kirkwall

Wandering the markets, Pierre purposely avoided the slave section and headed towards the general goods. Although many of the merchants called out to him in the King's Tongue, their price instantly lowered once they realized that he could read and speak Tevene. After bartering with a few of them, Pierre had managed to gather enough supplies and food to last him for another week in the tiny flat he had rented out for himself. 

Trotting away with his sack of groceries, Pierre was engrossed in checking his coin purse and supplies that he didn't see the other man. As they collided, his eyes widened as he heart the telltale sound of a tomato being smashed onto cloth. The mage scrambled up to his feet and paled as he saw the red smears down a stark white robe that obviously belonged to someone of the Altus class. Pierre knew that there was no way for him to afford buying a new robe for this man. Once it was out that he was a human, he could easily be forced into slavery to pay his debt."

✚ : health headcanon

While Tallis is generally a very healthy person, physically, she has a good deal of mental health issues stemming from her childhood.  She's a kleptomaniac, suffers extreme PTSD and still has nightmares - mostly related to her days as a slave and some related to the time she spent in Seheron.  You wouldn't know it by looking at her but she has a couple of anxiety disorders as well manifesting in nervous habits and a complete hatred of a situation escaping her control.