[ It began, as these things tended to, with a bang.
He can't quite recall what, exactly, had caused the explosion -- magic gone awry? Divine intervention? A peevish Venatori dabbling in dark and forgotten arts? Something terribly arcane being nudged in just the wrong fashion? Difficult to tell, really, because Dorian only recalls a blinding flash of green light, then a roaring wind filling his ears, a wave of heat rolling over his skin, and--
And now there are books. Shelves of them, actually, and it's a wonder that none of them have fallen after his entrance, he thinks, because he feels rather as though he's dropped down from the battlements of Skyhold to the garden below. His head is swimming and there's a ringing in his ears and he has a strong inclination, at the moment, to simply flop over like a bag of sand and let things develop as they must. But he hasn't flopped over, which is a point in his favor, probably; instead he's kneeling on the ground, leaning heavily against his staff as he tries to figure out where he is.
He's drawing a decidedly large blank. ]
... Ah. [ He murmurs it to himself, of course, the corners of his mouth drawing down in a concerned frown. ] This could be bad.
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He can't quite recall what, exactly, had caused the explosion -- magic gone awry? Divine intervention? A peevish Venatori dabbling in dark and forgotten arts? Something terribly arcane being nudged in just the wrong fashion? Difficult to tell, really, because Dorian only recalls a blinding flash of green light, then a roaring wind filling his ears, a wave of heat rolling over his skin, and--
And now there are books. Shelves of them, actually, and it's a wonder that none of them have fallen after his entrance, he thinks, because he feels rather as though he's dropped down from the battlements of Skyhold to the garden below. His head is swimming and there's a ringing in his ears and he has a strong inclination, at the moment, to simply flop over like a bag of sand and let things develop as they must. But he hasn't flopped over, which is a point in his favor, probably; instead he's kneeling on the ground, leaning heavily against his staff as he tries to figure out where he is.
He's drawing a decidedly large blank. ]
... Ah. [ He murmurs it to himself, of course, the corners of his mouth drawing down in a concerned frown. ] This could be bad.