two; [The Breach had been bad, but the escalated fighting was probably one of the worse things to come out from that incident. Ever since the Chantry in Kirkwall exploded things had gotten worse, and now--
The cold air from the ice around him is a sharp contrast to the blazing sun high in the sky. The day, by all means, is perfect. Blue skies, green grass, perfect weather on a perfect day in the Hinterlands. A good day ruined, just like all the countless other good days that were ruined by the constant skirmishes between the Templars and mages.
Bruce looks at the bodies around him. Two Templars and a mage, all three of them dead. The blood is still fresh enough to know that the fighting had been recent. For other mages, perhaps, they'd feel rage over their own fellow mage being killed like this, or triumph that a mage had managed to take out some other Templars before dying - but for him, all he felt was sorrow. Fighting had never been his thing.
When others pass by they'd see him currently trying to make a pyre for all three of them, Templars and mages. He'd make a grave if he could, but he didn't exactly have any digging equipment with him. In another time Bruce would have used his magic to do something for the bodies, but he had come into the Inquisition with the lie that he wasn't a mage but a surgeon, so he had to keep up appearances.
And besides, Bruce didn't like to use magic. It reminded him of... too many things.]
four; [Being a surgeon and relying on non-magical means of ailing the sick and hurt meant that Bruce needed herbs. A lot of herbs. And what better place to get herbs than in the Hinterlands?
It's easy enough to spot Bruce picking herbs if they look well enough - anywhere there's a notable amount of elfroot and such around, Bruce will most likely be there as well. Even if its spindleweed in the river. Bruce is there as well, with his leggings pulled up as he wades in the waters, picking whatever he can find.]
bruce banner | mcu | au'd
[The Breach had been bad, but the escalated fighting was probably one of the worse things to come out from that incident. Ever since the Chantry in Kirkwall exploded things had gotten worse, and now--
The cold air from the ice around him is a sharp contrast to the blazing sun high in the sky. The day, by all means, is perfect. Blue skies, green grass, perfect weather on a perfect day in the Hinterlands. A good day ruined, just like all the countless other good days that were ruined by the constant skirmishes between the Templars and mages.
Bruce looks at the bodies around him. Two Templars and a mage, all three of them dead. The blood is still fresh enough to know that the fighting had been recent. For other mages, perhaps, they'd feel rage over their own fellow mage being killed like this, or triumph that a mage had managed to take out some other Templars before dying - but for him, all he felt was sorrow. Fighting had never been his thing.
When others pass by they'd see him currently trying to make a pyre for all three of them, Templars and mages. He'd make a grave if he could, but he didn't exactly have any digging equipment with him. In another time Bruce would have used his magic to do something for the bodies, but he had come into the Inquisition with the lie that he wasn't a mage but a surgeon, so he had to keep up appearances.
And besides, Bruce didn't like to use magic. It reminded him of... too many things.]
four;
[Being a surgeon and relying on non-magical means of ailing the sick and hurt meant that Bruce needed herbs. A lot of herbs. And what better place to get herbs than in the Hinterlands?
It's easy enough to spot Bruce picking herbs if they look well enough - anywhere there's a notable amount of elfroot and such around, Bruce will most likely be there as well. Even if its spindleweed in the river. Bruce is there as well, with his leggings pulled up as he wades in the waters, picking whatever he can find.]