[ It's remarkable to Lasulahn that the Inquisition keeps traveling to progressively colder and colder locations. He had thought Haven miserable, then Skyhold, but neither hold a candle to the Emprise. There's something about the air in Emprise du Lion, beyond the mere temperature.
Being from the temperate Free Marches, Lasulahn is unused to the cold. That alone makes it difficult to sleep. Now, he might swear he hears something on the wind. Something that sounds almost like it's in pain. No one else in the camp seems particularly disturbed by it - or if they are, they've said nothing. Inquisitor Lavellan is never so careless as to leave camp alone in the middle of the night... save for this night. He's not sure what prompts him to make his way unescorted, particularly considering how rife with enemies this area is. Perhaps it is because everyone else seems to be asleep, and everyone has fought hard.
Cloak pulled tightly around him, feet aching from the day's walk through numbing snow and ice, the elf makes his way from the circle of tents and the warmth of the fire, with only a quiet explanation to the lone agent standing watch that he's merely clearing his head, and will be back shortly.
The sound like the grinding of stone echoes loudly enough that he's certain someone else must have heard it, but he is close enough now to the seeming source that to turn back seems simultaneously both the best course of action, and unwise. He lifts his staff, its illumination glittering across the fresh snow, peering for the source of the noise. ]
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Being from the temperate Free Marches, Lasulahn is unused to the cold. That alone makes it difficult to sleep. Now, he might swear he hears something on the wind. Something that sounds almost like it's in pain. No one else in the camp seems particularly disturbed by it - or if they are, they've said nothing. Inquisitor Lavellan is never so careless as to leave camp alone in the middle of the night... save for this night. He's not sure what prompts him to make his way unescorted, particularly considering how rife with enemies this area is. Perhaps it is because everyone else seems to be asleep, and everyone has fought hard.
Cloak pulled tightly around him, feet aching from the day's walk through numbing snow and ice, the elf makes his way from the circle of tents and the warmth of the fire, with only a quiet explanation to the lone agent standing watch that he's merely clearing his head, and will be back shortly.
The sound like the grinding of stone echoes loudly enough that he's certain someone else must have heard it, but he is close enough now to the seeming source that to turn back seems simultaneously both the best course of action, and unwise. He lifts his staff, its illumination glittering across the fresh snow, peering for the source of the noise. ]