Fade Rift Mods (
faderifting) wrote in
faderift2021-05-06 08:06 pm
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Entry tags:
- ! mod plot,
- alexandrie d'asgard,
- bastien,
- benedict quintus artemaeus,
- byerly rutyer,
- derrica,
- edgard,
- ellie,
- ellis,
- gwenaëlle baudin,
- james flint,
- john silver,
- julius,
- wysteria de foncé,
- { adrasteia },
- { amos burton },
- { beth greene },
- { brother gideon },
- { erik stevens },
- { gabranth },
- { james holden },
- { jone },
- { laura kint },
- { mado },
- { nikolai lantsov },
- { richard dickerson },
- { sidony veranas },
- { sister sara sawbones },
- { thranduil },
- { zoya nazyalensky }
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.
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.
no subject
[If she’s come in search of shelter from the din, then all she’ll find is understanding here. He sits across the edge of a fallen crest of stone, heels perched against rubble beneath, framed by the darker edges of his cloak. There’s room enough to share space without the irritation of closeness, and the way his helm turns away from her after a brief moment of regard says as much.
She’s free to stay, if she likes.]
Precious a trinket as life may be, it is a taxing thing to linger near overlong.
[He assumes, after all, their reasons for retreat must be the same.]
no subject
Still. It can become somewhat overwhelming.
At least she can have a quiet moment, even if there is someone else to share it with. A stranger in Riftwatch is less of a stranger than anyone else here, and she can welcome that. ]
Then I thank you.
[ Breathing out, she stares forward. ]
There's a great deal going on. It's rather nice to simply take a moment.
no subject
[A pause, the edge of his own stolid tone diffusing when he adds, quietly:]
...yet as you say, there is far too little peace to be found. Take of what little lies here as you need, I’ll not trouble you.
[Silence is mercy, personal space a balm: it likely need not be said but he prefers the promise that he won’t steal from her what she’s come here to seek out, not by way of conversation nor closeness. So if she stays, and opts to say nothing for minutes at a time, his stare won’t press on her.
Well— what remains of his stare, anyway. It is difficult to tell with a pitch dark helm in the way.]
no subject
[ Sidony would argue otherwise, but she doesn't have the time to worry about that right now. She doesn't see her work with Riftwatch as a reward; they're the ones gaining from her.
Brushing her knees, frowning at the specks of dirt and whatever else that's staining her. ]
You can trouble me if you would like. I'm not offended by people speaking to me, or asking me thinks. Especially if they have something of interest to discuss.
[ Or something she could use for herself. ]
no subject
[Instead, it seems, he's only served to make himself poor company. Still, he presses on, turning the shadowy contours of his helmet to meet her attention more fully.
Not a concession, only a change of tack.]
Though now I find myself interested in what it is you do here, so far from the safety of the city's heart.
no subject
[ It's not as if it would bother her either way. She speaks because she can and because there was a gap to be filled; if he would rather it something else then she can provide.
Sidony has always been good at fitting into boxes. ]
Me? I am a surgeon. Non-magical, you understand. Just my hands and my books. Sometimes one requires respite from that.
no subject
[She is no Richard Dickerson, no Barrow, no bawling inkeep tending to tireless flame. She is fine, and he'll not insult that.
Still:]
Healing without magic? Does such work exist?
[sounds fake??]
no subject
[ She's settled, comfortable, glancing at the walls around her. It feels a little enclosed, a little uncomfortable, but she's managing.
Sidony has people; she has friends, a husband, people to watch out for her. It doesn't make it any easier.
The question makes her nose wrinkle and she shakes her head, leaning forward. ]
Of course. Stitching, potions, poultices, leeches, all of it exists without the support of magic.
no subject
So instead he brushes past that comment entirely.]
And it is effective enough? Would a healer not do better?
[That his statement is offensive doesn't seem to register in the slightest. Well done, Gabranth.]
no subject
She's never been particularly fond of having her methods questioned. ]
In some cases, perhaps. But what if the healer has no strength left, or there are demons close by? Can a healer note an infection quickly, or cut off a limb if there is chance of gangrene? Can they balance a humour, or understand the depths of the human body? Their magic may do it for them, but how far does their education go? [ She hums. ] What healer knows the makeup of each organ inside a human? Few, I'd wager.
no subject
And this is the pinnacle of your purpose here? To assist in healing?
[This is what you do for Riftwatch he means, fitting her with a curious tilt of his helmet just across the rise of his pauldron.]
no subject
Still, the smile doesn't really slip from her face. ]
Not just what I do. I help with people from Nevarra, if they need it, and I make sure our dear Head of Diplomacy rests at least once a week.
no subject
[That draws his focus, moreso than the result of his own prior missteps.] He is fortunate, then. To have someone so skilled at granting aid at his side, ensuring his wellbeing.
[The weight of leadership by Gabranth's own understanding is a taxing, buckling thing, by his own memory spent at the side of his betters. And beyond his own place as guard, he holds little ability to offer solace to anyone, unlike Sidony. His respect for her grows, it seems.]
Few could claim the same.
no subject
[ It's said with genuine affection, even if it's quite obvious that there's something almost teasing underneath. Sidony cares for him, deeply, and is more than happy to admit it aloud to others.
Leaning back, the smile she offers is now more coy, beyond teasing. ]
Oh, he's lucky to have me to care for his hurts and to support him. I'm quite charming and helpful.
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Then you are owed more than I have given you.
[Said the way most people would say ‘I’m sorry’, or ‘I didn’t mean to drive my car into your house’.]
no subject
Are you suggesting I deserve respect because of my job or because of my husband? Because if it's the latter you can sit your behind right back down, ser.
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or well it's sidony so damn gay ]
no subject
Is it not shared acclaim? That your work to see him well is no less a part of the honor of his held title, and how it benefits us all?
[Is he being a dick??? This is hard.]
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Oh, darling, you made it far too easy. Yes, I would be quite offended if my worth was based on nothing more than my spouse, but we both know it's more than that. I am a skilled surgeon before I am his wife, you see.
[ Leaning forward, she offers a very small, gentle smile. ]
I am a great benefit to him and I'll not let anyone forget it.
no subject
This is fine.
When he exhales in the wake of her laughter, it’s soft, and tired, and relieved all at once; if he’s done little to upset, he can live with that, at least.
Their surroundings are isolated, but far from wholly private— it is not the most ideal of places for matters of introduction and due ceremony. But they’re not likely to be interrupted, or even noticed, and perhaps that is enough.
He reaches high to grasp the underside of his helm, letting practiced fluidity guide where he pulls it free, affording her the very human sight of stern, unmarked features in dim light. Pale hair clinging to the edges of his jaw, his neck— a byproduct of subterranean heat and heavy armor, dark brows hardened with a military gaze. Mortal, woundable— that's the sort of thing he tends to hide, and precisely what he offers her now in confidence.
Of course, to literally anyone else, it might just seem like he's taking off his helmet. So.] Judge Magister Gabranth, at your service.
no subject
She's not entirely sure what to do with the sudden shift in behaviour; she feels as though she ought to push herself up to her feet and give him a proper bow in return. It's not familiar to her, this odd, awkward feeling, but instead of bothering with formality she just nods and offers her hand. ]
The pleasure is mine, Magister. I am Sidony Venaras Rutyer, of Nevarra City, lately of the Riftwatch Healers.
[ He can shake it or kiss it, whatever might be best for him. He's a nice enough face to look at - she's aware of how men can be shaped well, can be handsome - but there's something going on here that she can't quite understand. Something to discuss later. ]
If there is anything I can do, of course.
no subject
If I am particularly unlucky in battle, I will know to seek you out.
To measure your services for myself.
[This is a kindness. A friendly gesture, even if it does not seem as such, placing faith in her skills without sight or attestation.]
no subject
I do not intend to hope to see you, my dear, but I hope to take care of you all the same.
[ She reaches and pats his arm gently. ]
I will take care of you.
no subject
But here he makes exception.]
Then you have my thanks, well before it is a necessary thing.
[It is left there for a brief window, and then, withdrawing, he fits his helm into place once more.] Yet now I fear I must take my leave, before my duties become neglected.
no subject
[ Her smile is soft, almost coy, and she rises to offer a gentle curtsey. ]
The pleasure was all mine, darling. Please, feel free to call upon me at any time.