In which Alistair is certainly not a master of stealth.

[templarish.livejournal.com]

Characters: Alistair, and the people unfortunate enough to hear him clanging about (ie: It could be you!)
Setting: Floor One, outside room 1-09, or anywhere else you feel like running into him.
Format: Action tags! Or prose. Prose-y action tags?
Summary: Alistair explores and tries to find out what the hell is going on. Also, he thinks he's a prison in Tevinter, so he might be a little jumpy.
Warnings: None. Unless derp isn't your cup of tea.



"These clothes were seriously not made for wearing armor. You can tell they don't have Templars in Tevinter, everything chafes..." Alistair mumbled to himself, rolling his shoulders with a loud clang of metal on metal. Mages, honestly. How did they get by with such light armor? He may have woken up to a bunch of lies and surrounded by strange... things (machines,) but what were they thinking when they left his armor and sword there? They didn't think he'd just stay, did they? Their security was laughable too. So far it looked like no one else in their group had been kidnapped here (and how did they get him so fast? Magic. it had to be magic,) but he wasn't giving up hope.

So now Alistair is walking down a hallway, trying to be 'stealthy,' if you would, and checking rooms to see if any of his friends (or Morrigan) are here. Feel free to pop in! (He'll only be mildly startled.)

(ooc: If you want your character to run into Alistair anywhere else, include the location in the subject :Db)

Comments

[ice-creamland.livejournal.com]

Iceland stared at this man--why? Well, the stranger appeared to be trying very hard to appear conspicuous. He didn't want to burst any bubbles but sadly, this older looking man was anything but stealthy.

So he approached this person from behind while listlessly chewing on some black salty licorice. "What are... you doing..."

[templarish.livejournal.com]

Alistair kept running into people. He wasn't sure why at this point, but he just rolled with it. No one had been hostile so far, and judging by their varied appearances, it was hard to tell who could be dangerous or not. Better to err on the side of optimism though, wouldn't want to be like Morrigan.

So Alistair wasn't surprised (this time) when he turned around and was faced with yet another person he didn't know. What was he eating? Well, nevermind.

"Out for a stroll, as you can see." Didn't mean he had to be sarcastic about it, but you try walking around for hours wearing all this stuff, a man could get tired.

[ice-creamland.livejournal.com]

Iceland stared at this odd fellow and then raised an inquisitive brow. Out of all of the people in this building, this metal-clad hairy man would have to be awarded as one of the oddest. He frowned, looking a bit irritated despite feeling slightly embarrassed. "So you were looking for someone?" he inquired flatly before eating another piece of licorice. "You also look like one of England's knights... He shouldn't be far I think."

By the way, he was trying not to be helpful.

[templarish.livejournal.com]

"England? I'm afraid he doesn't sound like any Bann or Arl I've ever heard of." Alistair said, matter-of-factly. (That's Duke or Earl, for those of us who don't speak Fereldan.) "But I suppose you could say I'm looking for someone. Anyone familiar, in any case. You wouldn't happen to know if anyone else here is from Ferelden?" Because the folks he'd met so far must be Free Marchers, he's heard they're very varied.