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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] faderift2021-05-06 08:06 pm

MOD PLOT ↠ Endlessly Far Beneath My Feet

WHO: Open
WHAT: A visit to Orzammar
WHEN: For about 10 days in early Bloomingtide
WHERE: Orzammar
NOTES: OOC post. Please use content warnings in your comment subject lines as required.




Orzammar is not all that far from Kirkwall: a short trip across the Waking Sea to Jader, then an even shorter (though much more exhausting than it seemed in dreams) hike up into the Frostback mountains brings them to the great stone doors that stand between Orzammar and the surface. Once those doors creak and groan shut in their wake—and the next set of doors, too, designed like a waterlock to keep the sky from reaching the city—it is no easy thing to open them again. No one's going to see the sun until they leave.

The great thaig within the mountains is much warmer than the chilly pass through them, thanks to the molten lake beneath it, which also keeps many of the open streets at least dimly lit 24 hours per day, until they wander off further than the glow can reach. The thaig is magnificent, brimming with distinctive angular architecture and statues honoring dwarven Paragons and ancestors. It's also sprawling. Despite giving the deceptive impression at the entrance of a hollow dome that can be taken in with a single look around, the thaig is home to one hundred thousand dwarves, give or take a few thousand. And that's with a dwindling population. It was built for even more. Buildings with narrow facades burrow and wind deep into the stone behind them. So do side streets that branch away from the Commons at every level. Most of them are lyrium-lit and safe to travel. But given the absence of any sun or moon, the way they ascend and descend and loop through the rock, they can be very disorienting to navigate without stone sense.

Among the locals on the street there's a lingering, palpable sense of relief that the worst seems to have passed, so far as the darkspawn at Orzammar's doors is concerned. It's put most people in a particularly good mood, and made them a bit more disposed than usual to treat the influx of visitors from above as an entertaining novelty. That won't stop the occasional dwarf from being suspicious of outsiders here to interfere with the Assembly or bitter that they want something when Orzammar never asked them for help, but friendly interest will be more common by far.

ACCOMMODATIONS

Riftwatch's Division Heads and Project Leaders will be the personal guests of House Bemot and put up in the house's sprawling, mazelike estate in the Diamond Quarter. The residence is brimming with artwork: statues of the house's prominent ancestors, dazzling stonework on columns and doorways, mosaics on the floors, and art both dwarven and imported lining the walls. They're given private rooms—many far from each other, down different turning corridors carved back into the stone—with large beds and hot water piped up from nearer to Orzammar's molten depths. The rooms are nice but don't mistake this for only an unfair perk; there are servants listening and marking their comings and goings at all times.

Since visitors from the surface are much rarer and their stays usually as short as possible, Orzammar is minimally equipped for large swells of visitors, so the rest of Riftwatch's personnel will be packed into one of two inns located in the tier of the Commons where merchants and other surface-dwellers typically reside when they're permitted access to the thaig.

The Paragon's Rest is the nicer of the two. Two ages ago it was the grand home of a prominent merchant house that has since died out; its name comes from the fact that two (two!) paragons have stayed there since the time it was converted into an inn. It boasts a modest number of small, private rooms and shared rooms with artful dividers, all with stone walls that have been carved with intricate geometric patterns. Meals and drinks are available in an expansive hall where local well-to-do merchants frequently play Diamondback and make expensive deals. The inn's position near the gates and something about the design and directions of the corridors minimizes the heat from Orzammar's molten center and even allows for a breeze to reach the common areas now and then.

Unfortunately, the Paragon's Rest doesn't have room for everyone, and the Buttered Nug is less pleasant. The inn was more recently a shop with expansive back storage for its inventory. The shop is now a cramped, sweaty tavern room, where no matter the hour a nug is always roasting—and constantly being basted with butter—over the fire, while more nugs snuffle in a holding pen in a corner, awaiting their doom. The proprietor tries to encourage everyone who passes through to have a plate. It's his grandmother's recipe. You're going to love it. The diners and residents are mostly merchants of the struggling and/or shady variety. The former storage rooms are unadorned, nearly more cavern than room, and large enough to be shared by large numbers of people, with stone lattice-work dividers between beds that provide very little actual privacy. Choosing the room deeper into the stone will make the temperature less sweltering but significantly increase the number of spiders in your bed.

Fortunately, no one has to do more than sleep there if they don't want to. And maybe try just one plate of grandma's buttered nug?

WORK

Riftwatch's primary objectives in Orzammar are sharing information about the war and making a good impression. While speaking to the Assembly might be the centerpiece of those efforts, it's not the extent of them. The noble caste may sit at the top of the dwarven hierarchy, but they're not the only ones with sway or useful resources and nudging public opinion more generally could have its benefits.

There are some specific ways Riftwatch can make itself visibly useful to Orzammar, to help counter the argument that the surface is asking for help without being willing to provide any in return. Assisting with red lyrium removal, installing cleansing runes, and teaching members of the mining caste how to do both for themselves will be priorities. And while the enemy's retreat to the north has lessened the pressure on the thaig, Orzammar lives in constant fear of darkspawn all the same. Riftwatch members suited for combat will be assigned shifts with the dwarven troops on patrol in the near sectors of the Deep Roads or standing watch at the great doors that block off the ancient tunnels.

Meetings with various members of the middle-rank castes (warrior, smith, artisan, mining, merchant) have been arranged and assigned, some with an explicit focus on discussing the war effort and providing information about what Riftwatch has learned and experienced, while others are focused on building trade connections or exploring potential opportunities to collaborate on research—and if opportunities to tell them more about the war effort in the process just happen to arise, all the better. These castes span a wide swathe of dwarven society between nobles and servants, and the meetings will reflect that, ranging from elaborate dinner parties with merchants as wealthy as any lord to casual chats over a pint with a busy blacksmith in a lower-tier tavern. Reactions will also vary, but most are interested in hearing what Riftwatch has to say, even if they're not necessarily disposed to agree. Nearly all visitors to Orzammar are merchants, and having access to this many surfacers and non-dwarves is a novelty.

Members of the Shaperate will take a more pointed and professional interest in their work. Shapers may set up appointments to talk to anyone who's able to speak about their experiences in the war so far, taking copious notes. (On paper. You're not special enough to go straight into the Memories.)

For everyone Riftwatch set a meeting with there are ten more they didn't, so a major part of the company's work in the city will be cultivating more casual interactions and both gathering and dispensing information that way. Someone might be assigned to frequent a particular tavern popular with Warriors and make connections there and find opportunities to discuss what's going on above. Someone else might be asked to drop in on a series of armorers and try to get a sense of current prices, how busy they are, and where most of their stock is being sold. Other assignments might be even more general--spend time in this cafe, or at the nug races, or chatting up merchants in this sector of the market, and see what conversations you can strike up or overhear. Talking folks into support for the war effort is great, but any generally positive interaction counts at this point, so Riftwatch members will be encouraged to pitch in wherever they see help needed, but also to be careful not to get entangled in controversy.

To coordinate all of this work, Riftwatch will have command of a private dining room in the Paragon's Rest to use as a meeting room, where everyone can come back to report, regroup, and strategize after a meeting or outing.

LEISURE

Anyone who finds themselves with downtime will also not have trouble finding things to fill it with. The Commons is lined with merchant stalls selling street food and a wide variety of fine dwarven crafts: metal goods ranging from knives to toys, clothing and bags covered in carefully placed little beads, intricate jewelry, and mechanical and enchanted inventions rarely seen on the surface. There's also an artisan who will hammer your likeness into a sheet of metal while you wait. It's all cheaper than it would be in an above-ground marketplace, as long as you're willing to haggle. Shops and smithies built into the stone sell weapons and armor—or do custom work, though getting anything completed before Riftwatch leaves Orzammar will require paying a premium.

The centerpiece of the Orzammar Commons in the Proving Arena. Currently there are no ongoing provings, but there are warriors and aspirants hanging around the surrounding areas to practice and posture. They might invite a competent-looking newcomer to spar.

An alternative to violence is nug racing, where hungry, specially-bred nugs are painted with house symbols and raced through open-topped tunnels, dug into the ground to allow spectating from above. With little happening in the Proving arena at the moment, this is the more popular spectator event in Orzammar, drawing observers from every caste to cheer and gamble on the outcomes of a series of bracketed races. House Etoras' Deep Fried (called Fred) is favored to win, but House Aratack's Hops & Grain (Hoppy) isn't a bad bet, and Keltar's Perfect Baby (Baby) might pull off an upset.

And there is also, of course, an enormous pit of lava below the Commons. (This is not deadly somehow. We don't know.) A favorite game of some of the local children is collecting trash and inviting newcomers to guess or wager on which items will burst into flames before they hit the lava and which will not. These demonstrations usually end by either a fake attempt to toss a friend over the edge as the final object, or a gleeful (and disprovable) explanation that this is why no one in Orzammar is ever found murdered. They only vanish. Fun!

If they'd like to explore beyond the Commons and the Diamond Quarter, no one will actively prevent Riftwatch members from venturing into Dust Town, the dilapidated sector of the city where the casteless live and the Carta rules. Outsiders might even be able to stumble into the area without realizing it, if they get turned around in some of the narrower back streets carved through the rock. But however they arrive, visitors to Dust Town are unlikely to make it very far without running into trouble.
overharrowed: (such a storm of feelings)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-05-23 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nothing urgent, at least," he assures her. "I've mostly been in wall-to-wall meetings, but this afternoon I'm looking over some runes. Glyphs are really more my area, but I said I would stop by sometime today and do my best. They're not expecting me at any particular time, though, so as long as I get there before supper I think I'm doing well."

Julius is not especially good at taking a moment to relax, but in the name of politely accepting the drink (and perhaps making sure Jone doesn't have any sneaky internal injuries he missed), he can justify sitting for a bit.
poleaxed: smile; (i cured my skin)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2021-05-23 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Runes and glyphs- is there a difference? She wonders how dumb she'd sound, asking, and decides not to. Drinking the swill they've been served gives her time, along with passing some coins across the table.

Every mage past a certain age is Bede to her, but this man clearly past that point. The sort of person who would've been Bede's upperclassman. The sort of person Bede may be, if he lived.

Jone thinks- "were you at Kinloch? Before."
overharrowed: (endlessly kneeling)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-06-23 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"I was. Until there wasn't a Kinloch to be at, essentially. Did you know someone who passed through?" Or, he supposes, she might just be making conversation; there aren't so many places an aggressively Fereldan Circle mage was likely to have been.
poleaxed: tired; emb (in hell.)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2021-06-23 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"My brother," she says. "Looked just like me, 'cept he was a tit instead of having some."

Not that she has much to boast over. Jone drinks her ale. "Heard he were transferred after the Blight on account of being a gobshite."
overharrowed: (I've had my time)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-06-23 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
He seriously considered her face for a moment, trying to imagine what she might have looked like just before the Blight and transferring that to brother. "What was he called?" he asked, rather than voicing a guess.
poleaxed: anger; static (is this what you think i do?)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2021-06-23 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Bede? Of Denerim, like. If they'd forced a second name on him, would've been Tanner."

Which is more than she's said of her father's profession to anyone in Riftwatch save one, and an embarrassing show of the poverty she came from. It's worth it, though, if she can find some scrap of Bede somewhere out in the wilderness.
overharrowed: (choking on the bones)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-06-24 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
His face briefly does something interesting, but he takes a drink and it's gone again. "I do remember him. I taught him, before he was transferred. I didn't get the impression ... well. After the Blight was also just after Uldred's rebellion. There was a great deal of reshuffling, then." The powers that were had hardly wanted all the survivors alone together, reflecting on how close they'd come to annulment, Julius assumes.

He takes another drink, and adds, "He was far from hopeless, as a student. You simply had to put some effort into capturing his interest in the first place."
poleaxed: smile; joke (a woman who)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2021-06-24 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Jone, meanwhile, beams. So Bede was still himself, at least for a little while. It means he might be the person she remembers, if he's alive. How do you repay someone for that gift, that brief shadow of a person caught in words? She doesn't know.

"That's our Bede," Jone says, voice fond and momentarily fragile. It fades quickly. "I owe you double, now. Call on me if there's ever a problem my lot can fix."

Non-magical, but professionally violent.
overharrowed: (I taste every wasted minute)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-06-25 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
He's genuinely a bit surprised, but takes the offer in the spirit it's meant and nods, suspecting it would be a bigger deal if he attempted to refuse. "That's very kind of you. You know us mages; in excellent shape unless someone gets right on top of us." Well, in Julius's case, he then hits them with a wall of magical force, but the idea is there.

"I wish I could tell you what became of him. For, I suppose, obvious reasons they generally didn't tell us where the apprentices were sent, after they left. The only ones I heard from were those who cared to write to me after their Harrowing. I don't think Bede was particularly the 'correspond with your former teachers' sort, so my not hearing from him doesn't seem likely to mean anything in particular."
poleaxed: gent; emb (i have)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2021-06-25 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
Her smile is slightly excited. "Imagine that, our Bede knowing his letters."

Yet the note he left her was in code. He must have assumed she didn't know hers, and, honestly, why would he think otherwise? She barely knows them even now.

"I've been trying to find him. Slipperly little bugger, he always was."

A kinder way of saying we're at war and he's likely dead.
overharrowed: (hiding in my room at night)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2021-07-13 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"You never know," he says, a bit quieter but frank rather than condoling. "I'm sure more than one of my comrades thought me dead in the years between the fall of the Circle and my turning up again at Skyhold to give other mages headaches. He seemed like a young man with a strong self-preservation instinct."

He certainly could be dead, and Julius won't pretend otherwise. But as someone who went to ground himself, he's keenly aware that in the absence of a body, nothing is certain. Especially so when he doesn't know where Bede went after Kinloch Hold.