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
When at last she ducks through the doorway after him, she discovers she has been holding a breath (surely not this whole time, but long enough that she must release it and suck in another very promptly) and that they are still connected by their linked elbows.
Wysteria quickly extracts her arm from his. She smooths her skirts with one hand and absently chases a stray bit of hair back behind her ear with the other.
no subject
But the hesitation passes, quashed as Ellis nods to her and invites himself further into the cramped front room, past the sloping table and haphazard array of armor and weaponry mounted on racks and barrels and crates and small black cat that hisses then flees at the sight of them through a second creaking door that opens into a smithy.
"Aldrich," Ellis repeats, pitched over the aggravated clattering. A wizened dwarf straightens from the anvil, grit in his beard, to squint at them both, then huff as he turns fully from the fire. A great scorchmark decorates his sturdy apron. An unkempt beard obscures most of his face, tufts escaping from the braided lengths of beard.
"Back again!" is more accusation than greeting. Ellis's answering laugh is so quiet that it's easily missed. He turns back to Wysteria, prepared to draw her into the room if need be.
"I've a friend who needs some tools," Ellis says, which is apparently his idea of introduction.
no subject
Well she doesn't know what she thinks. Later, she will sort her thoughts and decide that she was very pleased. Not to look upon him, no. But to be introduced (if such a word really applies).
And then, after fumbling lapse, she flushes quite red for her own foolishness and says very quickly as if it might make up for the length of her pause, "Yes that's right. I'm looking for a very delicate set of picks and chisels and so on. It is for the maintenance of a clockwork bird. A pair of them." Also— "Hello it is very good to meet you."
no subject
"This is Wysteria," Ellis says, filling the space between Wysteria's request and Aldrich's consideration. His elbow brushes Wysteria's as he turns, just slightly, back in towards her to explain, "Aldrich has repaired my armor. More than once, and very well."
Aldrich scoffs over this minor fact, finally prodded into motion after having seemingly deemed Wysteria to be of some interest. He makes a minor effort to rub his blackened hands on his apron, to no effect, as he begrudgingly steps out and away from the anvil.
"Birds, you say?" asks Aldrich. "About so big?"
Hands lift, demonstrating a space about the size of an apple.
no subject
She glances swiftly toward Ellis as if seeking out some confirmation—which is silly, as she is perfectly well acquainted with the little machines in question—and then looks back to Aldrich.
"The casement attachments seem quite delicate, and I would like to be able to disassemble and reassemble them without damaging the parts."
no subject
"They're flimsy," is the immediate verdict, as Aldrich makes a second cursory attempt at wiping off his hands. "Especially if they're Yevgeniy's. He cuts corners."
Ellis' snorts, very quietly, interjects, "They aren't Yevgeniy's," from Wysteria's side as Aldrich strides past them to the shelves and baskets lining the far wall.
And it's seemingly fallen on deaf ears because Aldrich's next question is directed at Wysteria still as he roots through a woven basket: "Do you know what you're doing with a set of these tools?"
no subject
"Yes of course. If I didn't, I'd have simply tried bashing at the things with my own and hardly know to come looking for anything more precise."
no subject
Ellis' hands raise in silent placation, thoroughly ignored as Aldrich upends the basket across his bench. A cacophony of clattering odds and ends rattles into a pile, metal and leather and crumpled paper, potentially more easily sorted through. Aldrich puts a hand on his hip.
"Well? What are you waiting for, girl? Come over here and help me find what you'll need. It's a leather case, about the size of your friend's palm."
no subject
"Yes! Of course, right away," Wysteria squawks, hurrying to the bench so she might begin sifting through the detritus scattered across it. A leather case, about the size of Mister Ellis' palm—
"My friend mentioned that you and he gave known each other for rather a long time. You must tell me what your speciality is if it isn't mechanical birds, Master Aldrich."
no subject
"Armor," he tells Wysteria, straightening from where he'd bent to study the assortment of swords on the rack. "Weapons, if you can coax him. But he's retired, I'd heard, when I was here last."
In which last perhaps means before he'd visited with Tony and Wysteria, some other point in which Ellis had spent time in Orzammar. Aldrich lobs a ball of parchment towards the brazier with a scoff.
"I haven't retired. Lucky for you and this one," Aldrich scolds, scraping aside a handful of thick, crooked nails as his attention shifts back to Wysteria. He instructs, "Help yourself to these."
To use personally as they are or for scrap, to be melted down? A mystery. Aldrich doesn't clarify as he confirms, "Yes, yes, I make armor, and weapons. But it's the runes that take the most work. You'd want to retire too if you had to spend all week doing fiddly work like that."
no subject
Of she does until she stops altogether, her attention floating up from the bench so she might stare round eyed at Aldrich.
"Runes?" Is a rapt gasp of an echo. "What manner of runes?"
no subject
"The kind that keep Wardens on their feet," Ellis interjects, quietly. He's crossed his arms, leaning his weight against the far end of the workbench to watch them. Aldrich snorts. The two pieces of metal clatter back into the basket as he concludes his study of Wysteria and returns to the task at hand.
"In a manner of speaking," he agrees, somehow still begrudging. "The kind of runes meant to increase damage dealt and reduce damage taken. None of those elemental types. Dagrun nearly set his whole shop ablaze with a mis-drawn fire rune. Useless frippery, those are. You wouldn't believe—Ah."
Dislodging a shower of small brackets and tacks, the leather case is drawn from the pile. Aldrich gives it a little shake, showering ash onto the tabletop, train of thought broken and realigning into curiosity as he holds out the leather packet towards her.
"What do you know about runes, girl?"
no subject
"Oh, I am a great enthusiast. I have studied them almost exclusively since—well, for rather a long time. If it weren't for the limitations of lyrium use by humans, I should like nothing more than to be a runesmith. As it is, I have taken a particular interest in the theory of rune adaptation and alteration. We have seen a few examples of the modification and amplification of certain enchantments by the alteration of their rune sets in our service with Riftwatch. Amplification runes in combination with certain elemental effects in order to increase their range of effect and so on and so forth. Indeed I should very much like to explore the subject in more detail, but we so rarely have a reliable smith at our disposal. Increase damage, you said?"
Here, finally, she takes a breath and pauses to survey the packet in her hands and its contents.
"Oh yes. These will do nicely. Look, Mister Ellis. This is precisely the sort of set I was mentioning to you."
no subject
"Yes, increase damage," Aldrich says slowly, stirring a finger through the collection of fragmented metal and ash left on the table. The gleam of interest has slowly edged in beside the obvious irritation at their presence. "That's always in high demand."
Ellis squeezes Wysteria's elbow.
"Aldrich doesn't like elemental runes," he tells her, mock conspiratorial. Aldrich scoffs loudly.
"I can listen to an idea, even if it's involving frippery and flash," he protests. "Better me than one of those hacks down the lane, isn't it?"
no subject
"Oh," she scoffs, high and a little false as she gently closes the leather packet back about the set of tools. "I see your point, Mister Ellis, but I can't imagine that your friend should be at all interested in the project. And besides," this bit of apology for Aldrich. "I have none of my schematics with me, and so it would be a very vague representation of the idea. Further," for Ellis again. "We won't be in Orzammar very long at all, and surely that is far too short a time frame to produce a working prototype of the spindle."
free pass to handwave the rest of this cronchy thread
"I know he isn't capable of writing letters, but what's your excuse?" Aldrich asks, one black-scorched hand coming up to rest on his hip. "Can't send me your schematics by post?"
No protest is forthcoming from Ellis. Recognizing perhaps that it would be counterproductive to draw Aldrich's attention, his input is limited to a minor repositioning of his body, hip leaning against the worktable to better track both their expressions.
je refuse
"You would have me post rare schematics vital to the war effort halfway across the world? While the enemy stalks the Waking Sea? I think not. It would be grossly irresponsible, sir." But lest he have time to get his hackles, Wysteria quickly moves to rummage through the satchel at her side for a few spare pieces of paper.
"But I suppose I could replicate the very basic structure here and now. That would certainly give you an idea of the thing. And then theoretically, I suppose I might send design directions and the appropriate measurements along. But only because Mister Ellis seems to trust you. I wouldn't dare lay it in the hands of anyone else otherwise. —You, do, I assume," she says, turning the bright point of her attention on Ellis. "Trust him."
Perhaps it is invisible to Aldrich, who must have no way of knowing the signs; but it must be very obvious to Ellis that she is heroically fighting to keep a smile from her face.
no subject
Wysteria is enjoying herself. And when prompted, obligingly, honestly, he agrees, "Aye, Aldrich is trustworthy."
A further scoff from their host in return, which prompts Ellis to look away from the hint of humor in Wysteria's face, across the table to Aldrich.
"You'll want to see this. She's designed something you've never dreamed the like of. It's worth the trouble, I swear."
And here is the thing: for all this invention is beyond his understanding, Ellis knows it's better worked on alongside someone like Aldrich, who is cautious and thorough and willing to be impressed however begrudgingly.
"Go on then," comes the scowling acquiescence from Aldrich. "Let's see the bones of it, and we'll work out the rest as we go."
The rest as if the logistics can be winnowed down so easily. Ellis snorts, which only earns him a sharp look and a snapped, "And you, make yourself useful and go fetch us some tea from the kettle."
Blanket permission to timeskip this technomancer gobledegook
(Which is true; anything which requires a slightly more deft hand in her drawings is rather more wobbly.)
"—And so the crystalized lyrium acts as the core for activating the enchanting engravings on the exterior of the spindle. It releases its fadeiation—forgive me, it's magic in a generally upward direction, and so only activates whatever rune has been face upright on the wheel. But wait, I hear you on the verge of asking, how is the core made active at all? Well naturally it is through this outer layer of enchantments which in essence charge both the core and serve to propel the projectile along the barrel's railed interior. The magic of the charge activates the lyrium, and the current itself—the actual physical properties of the lighting—creates a magnetic charge which expels the round."
It is clear from the tempo and timbre of her speaking and the fact that the scrap bit of metal is being allowed to leave smudges on her papers and to blacken her fingers that she is in high spirits. Pleased with herself, yes, but moreover simply delighted by the opportunity to chatter at length about a thing which has so long been such a closely kept secret. How freeing it is, and how bizarrely lovely to prattle on about a bit of arcane engineering in a place so very respected for it. It is a little like it's own kind of magic.
"—have found that the challenge is balancing the material components to withstand the forces exerted by the runic enchantments. The magnetism, for example. Over time, I have found that it causes the rods to warp slightly which will begin to affect the accuracy and eventually crack the barrel or cause jams or some other sort of catastrophic failure." She sounds thrilled with the possibility. 'Catastrophic' is such a fantastic word. "And so the rods require an exterior which will conduct wrapped around...an interior core, perhaps? Something to sink the heat, or that will act as a stabilizer sufficient to counteract the bend. And then of course there is the delicacy of the interaction between the two interlaced sets of enchantments—"
Suffice to say, she will continue on for however long she is permitted to do so until she either batters Aldrich into submission or he manages to verbally counter grapple her.
lmk if i yada yada yada'd too far and i will rewind accordingly
Ellis can see it too, the point where begrudging attention tips into genuine interest. The tea goes cold and Aldrich has scribbled his own theories onto fragments of paper as the pair of them speak. Ellis stirs his own tea and listens and keeps his smile to himself lest he draw some sort of ire from Aldrich's corner.
When he ousts them from his shop, having questioned Wysteria to his satisfaction and promised the use of his own facilities as necessary, Aldrich has pressed a second set of tools onto Wysteria as a spontaneous parting gift and extended an invitation to return with better schematics. The door is still slammed shut behind them.
"He liked you," Ellis tells her, for clarity's sake.
perfection tbh
The bang of the door behind them does not make her jump, but for a moment she does seem rather at a loss as for what to do with herself now that they've returned to the street.
And then she seized his wrist, eyes seeming to quadruple in size in her face. With incandescent delight, shining like daylight in a place where the sun has never been allowed to touch, she says, "Yes. I believe he did."
noice noice
"And you have what you needed?" is the only question that comes to mind, an easy and reliable topic. His expression is so very fond, looking back at her.
looks at my typos, sighs
Her hand at his wrist turns to a batting thing, all faux chiding at the back of his hand.
"I refuse to encourage you when you know very well the answer," Wysteria announces, managing for just the briefest moment to appear solemn before splitting back into that smile. "It was very neatly done, Mister Ellis. Now come along. I think we have used up most of the spare hours in my day. At this rate, I will have little time to write up my notes and I'm certain you have all manner of pressing business to attend to."