pullmeoutalive | RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[ Solas is the one to hear the spirit in his dreams -- a spirit of Compassion, much weaker than their Cole but strong enough to find him in the Veil, seeking Solas out specifically to fulfill its purpose. A boy from another reality, not unlike the tales he heard of the man who accompanied Dorian through the rift between worlds.

Solas is the one who informs Dorian of the boy's capture, assuming correctly that his paramour, as it were, would find the information of interest. He could hardly ignore a plea for help any more than the Spirit of Compassion could, and once the information had been passed, he assumed his part in the matter would be over, and that Dorian would do as he must.

Or this would have been the case, except the Inquisitor had rather abruptly called for an outing to Emprise du Lion, and with Vivienne occupied with business in Orlais, evidently the Inquisitor had flipped a coin to determine who would accompany her traveling party. Dorian, it seems, was the lucky man.

The two of them have little time before Dorian must depart, and he waits in his quarters for the detective's arrival, pacing and casting anxious glances in Solas' direction every so often. Solas, of course, is placid, serene, standing beside the door with his hands clasped behind him. Whenever Jacob finally arrives, Dorian steps forward, harried. ]

Change of plans, Detective. I'm afraid I'll be traveling abroad -- leaving soon, in fact. Can't stay to chat. I'll have to leave you in Solas' capable hands.

[ And it's then that Solas steps forward, regarding the man before bowing slightly from the waist. ]

A pleasure to meet you.

[ Jacob had heard about the Inquisitor's band of misfits from Charlie, so he's not entirely surprised to see an elf step forward. His surprise actually comes from the fact that Dorian isn't tagging along.

Just roll with the punches, he tells himself, and offers a small bow in response. The detective is dressed simply. His gun is holstered out of sight beneath a plain, brown leather jacket. On his belt are extra clips of ammo, hidden away in little punches, and there's a knife at his back. One of Charlie's, though it's a larger hunting knife instead of the smaller ones Charlie usually carries. At a glance, he almost blends in. ]

You as well. Charlie told me a bit about you.

[ To Dorian, he says ] Go on and go, since you're half out the door already.

[ Dorian sighs, a hand going to his forehead -- almost as though he means to pull his hand through his hair, though he is far too stubborn to ruin his morning's work.

As it is, he steps back, giving Jacob a once over, nodding approvingly. ]

Passable. I was worried I would have to clothe you.

[ Solas clears his throat and arches an eyebrow at the other mage, tilting his head pointedly to one side, signifying the door. The Inquisitor could be an impatient woman, and considering Dorian had already delayed their leaving by a day in insisting he at least greet Jacob, she would hardly appreciate any further delays.

Dorian huffs out an exasperated breath, collecting his staff and traveling gear. As he's stepping out of the room, he turns back to look at Solas, then the detective, his expression solemn. ] Try not to be too miserable without me, gentlemen. And try not to get yourselves murdered, would you? The Inquisitor and Charlie would have my head.

[ And with that, he leaves, reminding Solas to lock up behind him when they depart. Solas merely sighs to himself before redirecting his attention to the detective. ]

I apologize for this, Detective. And for Dorian. He's quite anxious for this young man, considering what had happened to your mutual friend.

Believe me, I'm well aware. Our only saving grace might be that Spiritualists usually posses some psychic abilities, so he has a better fighting chance than most.

Still, I'd rather not see it come to that.

Of course. To lose one's will in service of another is a fate I wish upon no one.

[ He pauses, then turns, opening the door slightly and checking the wards, as Dorian showed him. ]

I believe the boy you seek is being held in the Dales, in an area known as the Emerald Graves.

Have you any experience riding a horse?

It's been a few years, admittedly, but I think I can manage not to fall off.

Good. I'll have Master Dennet arrange mounts for us, then.

[ With the wards back in place, he holds the door open for Jacob to step through. Dorian's room opens up to a balcony overlooking the garden, and down below, Chantry sisters reciting the Chant of Light can be heard. ]

Come, then. We have little time to waste.

[ For a second he's bewildered at the size of the place, but quickly shakes his head. Andrew is their top priority. Maybe one day he can come back and sight see. ]

Of course. Lead the way.

[ He offers a nod before leading them through the keep, down old stone steps and older corridors. Skyhold is a patchwork of masonry, with new stone nestled into walls along the old, though there is still much work that needs to be done before the fortress could reclaim its old glory. The grounds are abuzz with activity, soldiers and nobles and servants wandering to and fro with purpose, and Solas snakes through them with practiced ease. He spares a polite nod, here and again, when he spots other members of the Inquisitor's traveling party. Cassandra, in particular, quirks an eyebrow at Jacob as she passes, equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

Solas speaks with Dennet, and thankfully the Inquisitor had already given her leave to grant Solas two mounts -- sturdy, fast horses that would bring them to the Emerald Graves in good time. Solas leads the horses to the Detective, handing him the reigns to one of them. ]

The journey may be a difficult one, if we ride hard. I hesitate to do so, given that you're out of practice. You will be of use to no one if you're too exhausted from the journey to think clearly.

[ Jacob can appreciate where Solas is coming from, certainly, but he’s already left Andrew in enemy hands long enough. He came into this not knowing what kind of journey would be ahead of him, so he came prepared for every eventuality.

After a quick look around to make sure they were free from prying eyes- force of habit- Jacob etches a pair of runes in the air in front of him. He motions to each on in turn. ]

Endurance. Stamina. [ And with a final mark, they both vanish. Jacob flexes his fingers as an odd sort of strength flows into his limbs. ] I’ll be alright.

[ He watches Jacob cast with quiet interest; magic that does not draw from the Fade is fascinating in itself, and he had asked Charlie a few questions about it during the wizard's stay.

Solas knows better than to argue, considering the other man has an air of determination about him that would not be gainsaid. Instead, he mounts his hours with ease, waiting for Jacob to do the same. ]

Should you need to pause for rest, inform me. There is nothing to be gained from collapsing in exhaustion.

I know. [ There’s a slight stirring in his chest that suggests if Jacob overexerts himself and refuses to stop, Fedora will insist. He knows better than to argue with his Summon. ] I will.

Thank you for this, by the way. I hear you’re the one who found out he was here in the first place.

You are welcome, though my part in this is little more than relaying the message. I have an aptitude for speaking with spirits -- a trait I seem to share with your friend.

He’s a good kid. Good at what he does, too. [ And it’s Jacob’s fault he’s here in the first place. He grimaces to himself for half a second, before hauling himself into the saddle. ]

Let’s get moving.

[ Solas does not miss the dark look that crosses the detectiVe's face, though he merely catalogues it away for now.

He leads them to the gates, left open for anyone seeking solace within the keep's walls. The Inquisition continues to grow and grow, and one day, it will grow so large as to be unwieldy. Easily corrupted. He has no doubts the Inquisitor's intentions are pure, as are those of her advisors, to a degree, but no organization as large as this can avoid such pitfalls. It is Solas' hope that Corypheus be defeated before the Inquisition collapses in upon itself.

Climbing down the Frostback Mountains can be dangerous, so Solas picks their path carefully. Once they reach level ground, Solas sets a hard pace, knowing they have little time to waste. With or without the detective's signal to stop, Solas still has them take breaks for the horses' sake, watering them and pausing for breath. In the evening, he stops once more to set up camp. ]

Are you well, Detective?

[ Thank whoever came up with Enhancement magic, Jacob thinks, though he’d never say as much in certain company. (Even if it was Charlie who insisted he add the spells to his arsenal in the first place.) Each time they stop to tend the horses, Jacob lets the spells drop. He walks around a bit, stretches, and shakes the kinks out of his limbs, and recasts the Enhancements before they go.

By the time they stop for the night (something Jacob nearly argues against, but he doubts the mage has night vision), he’s tired and stiff, but it’s not even half as bad as he could be. ] Physically? Not too bad.

But I’m still worried. I had that whole cemetery checked from top to bottom, but I still missed something.

[ With good humor, ] I suspect you will sing a different tune come morning.

[ He pauses as he sets up the tents, observing Jacob from the corner of his eye. ]

You blame yourself for the Venatori taking Andrew.

[ He glances back over his shoulder. ] Of course I do. I’m not the boy’s keeper, but I was responsible for making sure that cemetery was safe again. It’s my fault he’s missing.

I see. I was not aware you had become so well-versed in our system of magic that you were capable of spotting and dispelling our wards -- especially those designed to make one's gaze slip over and past them. It is quite a feat you've learned to do so much from your world.

[ Now he turns fully to face the mage, and for a second, he’s angry. But he can tell that Fedora, tucked away wherever it is he goes now- Jacob’s soul? His psyche? Possibly both- is amused, and eases his anger some.

He’s being unreasonable, and he knows it. ]

Charlie never mentioned that you excelled at the art of the reality check.

[ For his part, Solas, ever the picture of serenity, tips his head to one side in a truncated shrug. ]

I would be surprised if he had. Charlie never did anything in my presence to warrant a display of that particular talent.

Truthfully, we spent little time together. Much of his stay in Skyhold was spent with Dagna, enchanting weapons, or with Dorian-- [ and here he adds wryly, ] --in other pursuits.

In my experience, Charlie is the one issuing reality checks himself, so I’m not surprised.

[ Solas’ remark about Dorian makes the wizard snort in amusement, and he inclines his head towards the tents. ] Do you need a hand with those? Or anything, really.

A wonder he has taken a liking to our Dorian, then, considering the man's uncanny ability to handle practically everything with an air of irreverence.

If you'd like, you can start a fire while I hunt for our dinner.

I can take care of the hunting, if you’d rather. Fedora- he’s my Summon, I don’t know if Charlie ever mentioned him- wants to stretch his legs, apparently.

[ He nods. ] Dorian mentioned your ability, as well. He takes on the appearance of a wolf, as I understand it?

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