[It wasn't the first time Lavellan had been invited to an elaborate party by nobility, nor was it the first time he stuck out like a big sore thumb at such a party. While he did love to revel in the chance to rub every noble this side of the hills the wrong way, it was nowhere near as entertaining when none of them knew what an elf was, let alone met one. All that was left was politics and gossip, and while he did keep an ear out for any rumors flying about, all the courtly niceties had him gravitating towards the impressive collection of spirits being offered.
Gaspard may have been a hell of a bastard, but his plan to get increasingly drunk the more he had to play politics was pretty solid.
So emulating the king of Orlais, he found the wine and was making good use of it while casually eavesdropping on anyone that seemed important. Feel free to rescue him from his drudgery.]
[B-2]
[After he had a few drinks in him, he thought it might be a good idea to relive his night at the Winter Palace. There were plenty of places that guests were apparently not allowed to go, and were guarded as such. Unfortunately (or fortunately) there no halla statues for opening locked doors, or that handly thatched siding that he could climb up on.
No matter, he would find other creative methods of getting around.
Which was how he wound up multiple places he did not belong. People might stumble upon him up on some ledge or beam he had absolutely no business being on since he was short an arm, or they might find him sitting around, reading some scroll or book (or trying to read anyway) from some part of the castle he shouldn't have been able to get to. Or for those who had the access, they might find him casually wandering the halls or gardens outside the designated celebration area.]
no subject
[It wasn't the first time Lavellan had been invited to an elaborate party by nobility, nor was it the first time he stuck out like a big sore thumb at such a party. While he did love to revel in the chance to rub every noble this side of the hills the wrong way, it was nowhere near as entertaining when none of them knew what an elf was, let alone met one. All that was left was politics and gossip, and while he did keep an ear out for any rumors flying about, all the courtly niceties had him gravitating towards the impressive collection of spirits being offered.
Gaspard may have been a hell of a bastard, but his plan to get increasingly drunk the more he had to play politics was pretty solid.
So emulating the king of Orlais, he found the wine and was making good use of it while casually eavesdropping on anyone that seemed important. Feel free to rescue him from his drudgery.]
[B-2]
[After he had a few drinks in him, he thought it might be a good idea to relive his night at the Winter Palace. There were plenty of places that guests were apparently not allowed to go, and were guarded as such. Unfortunately (or fortunately) there no halla statues for opening locked doors, or that handly thatched siding that he could climb up on.
No matter, he would find other creative methods of getting around.
Which was how he wound up multiple places he did not belong. People might stumble upon him up on some ledge or beam he had absolutely no business being on since he was short an arm, or they might find him sitting around, reading some scroll or book (or trying to read anyway) from some part of the castle he shouldn't have been able to get to. Or for those who had the access, they might find him casually wandering the halls or gardens outside the designated celebration area.]