exequy: (Default)
Kostos Averesch ([personal profile] exequy) wrote in [community profile] faderift2022-07-26 11:20 am

open | full circle pt 2

WHO: Many people, mostly mages and rifters and Templars/Seekers
WHAT: Stop that Circle!
WHEN: Late Solace
WHERE: The College of Magi, Cumberland, Nevarra
NOTES: OOC post! Please note we are not doing the points game part yet. But we will later and your tags will still count then.


I. THE JOURNEY

After the meeting, there's time to talk, pack (lightly), and get a full night's sleep. But after an early breakfast the next morning, everyone heads up to the eyrie at the top of the Gallows' central tower to load onto griffons.

They do it with the sanction of the Division Heads, accompanied by some rules, like no violence, and some mandatory company. A few Templars (and a Seeker) are sent along with them, in Riftwatch uniform rather than their more traditional and more inflammatory armor. Mages and rifters and interested others have the choice of donning their uniforms or not.

The trip to Cumberland is short an uneventful. Trained griffon riders and the animals they've bonded with lead the flock, but other griffons follow cooperatively behind, each carrying one or two riders and their effects. The group lands once or twice in the Planascene Forest to stretch their legs, have a meal, etc., while the griffons help themselves to a buffet of wildlife. A few of those without bonded riders might need some extra persuasion to get back in line, when it's time to go, but nothing goes significantly wrong.

II. THE COLLEGE OF MAGI

It's late and dark when they swoop down on the city, but the College of Magi is easy to spot, because it's a palace with a hammered-gold dome roof that shines in the moonlight. The griffons land and consent to being tethered in an enclosed courtyard that, after years of neglect, is no worse off if they trample the greenery a bit. The doors inside are guarded not by Templars, but by Cumberland city guards assigned to keep looters out of the palace in the mages' absences. Once they've taken in the presence of the griffons and uniforms, they put up no resistance to Riftwatch's entrance.

Inside, the halls are quiet and opulent: in addition to the famous collection of sandstone busts of every Grand Enchanter from the last 600 years lining the entrance hall, there are marble pillars, bright frescoes, vases, art, gilded vines crawling the walls. Everything shines and glitters in the light from the braziers on the walls.

The mage who comes scuttling down the hall to give them a bewildered greeting, robes flapping and a basket of bread on his arm, is Senior Enchanter Erfried Neumayer, noted Loyalist, formerly of Hossberg. He is well into his nineties, spry but mostly blind, and very friendly. He explains, eventually and in pieces, that they have not even started the conclave, unaware they might have needed to rush, and the others are currently having a late dinner and an idle chat in the dining hall. Thus the bread.

The rest of the mages are not glad to see them, albeit mostly in a polite and/or passive-aggressive way. They make a fuss about not being prepared to house or feed any additional participants, but in the end do show everyone to one of the bunk bed-filled rooms that used to house apprentices.

The first night and every night afterwards, Riftwatch has overnight watches—not to watch for danger, but to make sure the other mages don't sneak around and convene while they're asleep. (A few of them might be caught trying to organize exactly that.) The beds are musty from years of disuse but otherwise fine. Food is grudgingly provided.

Before, after, and between sessions on the floor, there's time to explore the palace. Said to have been donated by a Duchess to keep her mage child in the comfort she was accustomed to, the College is an arguably over-the-top display of wealth and comfort, dusty from disuse but still overflowing with gilding and cushions, baths and kettles enchanted to heat and cups enchanted to cool and dozens of other magical novelties that make life a little more comfortable, art and a badminton field and a massive library. The Harrowing Chamber looks like a place where someone would be honored to complete a rite of passage; the dungeon exists but is small, clean, and devoid of spooky skeletons. It's exactly the sort of place that could serve as evidence that living in a Circle was great, actually.

III. THE CONCLAVE

The conclave, such as it is, begins the next morning, in a room whose domed mahogany ceiling has had it dubbed the Red Auditorium. It's designed to hold a few hundred attendees at a time, so the fifty or so Loyalists (and Aequitarians and Lucrosians) and dozen-plus Riftwatchers have plenty of elbow room.

At least in a parliamentary sense, Senior Enchanter Erfried is in charge—to Riftwatch's benefit. The Loyalist Contingent leads with an attempt to ignore Riftwatch's presence and ram their proposal through with no further discussion or procedure on numbers alone, but Erfried is a stickler for the rules. The name of the game is delay, distract, divert.

Fortunately, the mages prove delayable, distractible, and divertable. Creating a record of attendees and participants devolves into a series of short debates about who counts as a Circle Enchanter anymore and whether rifters have any right to be there, which easily take up half a day. From there, arguments about whether the Conclave has met all the finicky requirements to actually count as a Conclave swallow a few hours as well. Unfortunately, two witnesses profess a messenger was sent to alert the Grand Enchanter, and there's no evidence she did not reach it, so Erfried allows things to continue. In theory. Having spent so much of the day on procedural matters, there's no time to get into substance before adjourning for the evening.

Breakfast the next morning is interrupted by the arrival of the small team Riftwatch sent to alert the rebel mages at the front—and by Grand Enchanter Fiona herself, riding behind Ellie on Artichoke. She's only one mage, but she's an angry and important one. And others are coming. She makes a show of being concerned about whether it will be enough people to counteract the fifty-odd Loyalists, to avoid inspiring them to work too hard, but within Riftwatch, word gets around that they'll definitely have the numbers. All they have to do is stall.

The Loyalists do make every effort to resume the proceedings and make progress toward voting on their proposal. How unfortunate that circumstances prevent it. (Invent your own circumstances. Filibustering, general chaos, and minor property damage are all fair game.)

IV. THE CALVARY & THE DEBATE

The Grand Enchanter's people arrive only a few hours later than expected. There are easily a hundred of them—enough to doom the proposal, certainly. There's a sense of doom among the Loyalists when the proceedings resume. A few leave early in defeat. But the rest stick around, as they finally, finally proceed into discussing and voting on the substance of the proposal, and make fairly impassioned arguments on its behalf.

They evoke the history of the Circles: a compromise that saved them from being hunted by the early Inquisition and from being confined in Chantries to do nothing with their gifts but keep the fires lit. The hundreds of years of peace (they say) compared to what's come before and what will come after.

They say there was a mage child in the Nahashin Marshes, turned out by his illiterate and reclusive family, who appears to have lived alone for several years before recently reappearing, warped from possession, to slaughter his entire village. A town in Antiva realized a few of its new residents were mages and burned their house down, killing one and leaving the others with nowhere to go. A young fellow who'd wandered away from the Inquisition's camps once he came of age was caught picking pockets in Ferelden's West Hill and, in his attempts to flee, froze all of the tavern's occupants solid. Several didn't survive the thawing. They report—with no actual statistics, but a few anecdotes—that incidents of (child abuse cw) suspicious child drownings are on the rise. They ask, rhetorically, whether rifters think they will be left in peace by their neighbors when Riftwatch is gone.

And they go on for quite some time about their responsibility to Thedas. The risk of mages amassing power and establishing dynasties—a hundred years stand between that and a new Tevinter, optimistically. The risk of kings and emperors seizing control of the mages within their own borders, if mages are beholden to them rather than to the Chantry, and wielding them against their own people or their neighbors.

They have a reason for every item in the proposal. It's all very depressing and very sincere. A sizable number of the rebel mages from the front are moved by the presentation of the problem, if not convinced that their solution is correct.

But in addition to talking (and talking and talking), they also listen. They don't really have a choice, now that they're outnumbered. While only Circle Enchanters are technically permitted to vote in the College, Erfried will give anyone the floor for at least a few minutes. And between impassioned speeches, there are regular recesses when the Red Auditorium dissolves into more private conversations. Some are quiet, some are loud—but most mages have years of training in keeping their composure, so only a couple get worse than half-raised voices.

V. CUMBERLAND

With the mages from the front, the pressure on Riftwatch lets up somewhat. There's no longer a need for every Riftwatcher to be on-site at all hours of the day to prevent the Loyalist contingent from voting, so there's time to slip out into the city, whether for business—posting messages, buying supplies, running Riftwatch errands unrelated to mages and Circles—or just a break.

VI. THE RESOLUTION

In the end, not much happens. The proposal is voted down. It is not replaced by anything. But a date is set, three months in the future, to reconvene in a more orderly and less underhanded way to consider other options for mages' (and rifters') future. The Grand Enchanter also consents, in good spirits, to this future gathering deciding whether she stays in charge.

Riftwatch is invited. They have until then to do whatever maneuvering and advocacy they can.

It counts as a victory.


NPC NOTES

  • You can do threads with NPC'd mages, or you can thread around their presence: discuss strategy, complain about a conversation with an NPC that happened off screen, take a break from the speeches outside, etc.
  • Feel extremely free to make up NPC mages of your own! For natives this can include mages they already know or have history with. If you make up an NPC who you'd like kept in mind in the future, you can put them on the wiki page for this plot.
  • The Loyalist camp consists mainly of Loyalists, but also some Aequitarians and Lucrosians. They're a mix of mages who sat out the war, Loyalists who fought with Madame de Fer against the rebels, and mages who fought with the rebellion but have since come around to wanting some kind of system back.
  • The rebel mages who arrive on scene are mainly Libertarians, but also have some of every other fraternity—Aequitarians, Resolutionists, Isolationists, Lucrosians, and a few Loyalists along for the ride. They're all mages who fought with the rebellion and then joined the Inquisition.
  • Grand Enchanter Fiona is present! If you want your character to have a significant conversation with her, either to get info or try to convince her of anything, do an info request—since she's so important and influential on her own, deciding what she would say or do is a mod call.
  • You can invent friends/future contacts from either camp for your character to keep in touch with on their own. I don't have any info beyond the scope of this plot to hand out right now, either as a player or as a mod, but for the belated Part III in a few months I will try to gather folks whose characters have Done Work in the interim to distribute influence/information accordingly.
elegiaque: (074)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2022-08-01 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
“Mmm.”

Gwenaëlle still remembers the day their carriage rolled out of the city, the smoke still thick in the air, acrid and awful. That she had not seen Madame Baudin, which had not been so unusual; that she knows little, even now, of what conversations might have happened or not on the matter. On the— absences.

A show of force from the Empress. No great success for her, but none of the machinations involved concerned with what they ground up in their wheels.

“The problem with the Freemen of the Dales,” at length, sucking a bead of blood from the end of her finger, flipping the knife in her grip to palm the blade against her wrist while she manages it, “is shortsightedness and self-absorption. They don't achieve anything because they don't think past their own concerns and they don't look around themselves for obvious allies when they can be fucking idiots and look further afield for the power to step on someone else's neck. If the rebellion comes to open war again,”

which seems like a reasonable thing to think that it might do,

“not everyone in Orlais is such a fool. No one's offered city elves anyone to stand beside. The Chantry has done as little for them and treats it about the same. I knew nothing of Dairsmuid. You won't hear much from most people about Halamshiral.”
tender: (106)

[personal profile] tender 2022-08-01 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
Something in Derrica's expression sharpens as Gwenaëlle speaks.

Derrica doesn't know the Freemen of the Dales. But she is aware of city elves. She is aware of what Gwen is driving towards.

"Would they stand with us?"

Us is inclusive of Gwenaëlle, who has no magic but carries a shard in her hand. Who is here, standing alongside all these mages and Rifters though she may well have been able to remain in Kirkwall. That is a choice that matters.

Derrica has always been attentive to who speaks for them, and who does not.
elegiaque: (096)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2022-08-01 06:07 am (UTC)(link)
It feels like it includes her and nothing that's happening at Cumberland is about Gwenaëlle so she firmly shoves to the side the part of her that wants to bask in that, for a moment, to focus instead on the practicalities,

they are, after all, the most important thing. And less warming to say: “I don't know. I carry my mother's name because they're all dead and someone should, I never— I don't know them that lived and I don't think that mine would be a voice they'd care to hear, but I do know.”

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts. Herself, maybe, because there's too much here that she could make into something messy and wrong and it matters that she try harder than that. What would Anne make of this? Guenievre? She wants to believe it would matter to them that she's still trying to do something that matters with all that they gave up for her.

“I know that they deserve the opportunity,” she says, finally. “I know that they deserve to know that what is isn't everything, too. And that dead gods that don't care about them aren't their only option.” Absolutely fuck Fen'Harel, and fuck Mythal in particular.

Derrica had painted a picture of something that Gwenaëlle would have liked to see—

she only thinks, couldn't that be bigger?
tender: (06)

[personal profile] tender 2022-08-01 08:44 am (UTC)(link)
The scope of the suggestion requires a moment for Derrica to fully get her hands around it. She spends that time watching Gwenaëlle's dagger, thinking of what it would be to forge this kind of connection.

"We should speak with them," is what she settles on. The first, most obvious thing. "We could start with the Kirkwall alienage. And then as we travel on missions..."

Another pause. Derrica folds over the fabric of her shawl once more.

"We should speak to the Grand Enchanter."

Would Fiona decline the idea? Derrica can't see why. And it ensures the idea won't meet a roadblock, should certain parties within Riftwatch find reason to object.
elegiaque: (010)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2022-08-01 08:54 am (UTC)(link)
We is a comfort that she hadn't thought she was still craving; feels like something snapping into place, purpose and direction that she's lacked, lately. Her instinct is, immediately, to withdraw from it— to reiterate how unhelpful her voice, and demur that whatever we is being discussed should have those kinds of conversations without her, but

she thinks of what Bastien had said to her, too. And she thinks that she wants to do more.

She's always wanted to do more. She's always thought that if something matters to her, she should have her hands in it. It's just that so few things had, for so long.

“I think that's a good idea,” is what she says, instead of any of that. “I haven't got any elven contacts, or anything like that, but—” she thinks, briefly, of Sabine; of Loxley, as well, the work that they've been doing in Hightown, “—I don't have no idea where to start.”
tender: (137)

[personal profile] tender 2022-08-02 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"We can find contacts," is optimistic, but Derrica sees no reason to be otherwise. "Fiona might have ideas too, or there might be someone traveling with her who has a sense of where."

They might start here. Cumberland likely has an alienage, somewhere in the stretch of city beyond the ornate walls of this palace.

"If we can find someone, and the introductions are made, that relationship will build upon itself."

All the more reason to bring it into existence, before it becomes something to be argued over. Better to beg forgiveness before asking permission, and gamble on whether or not they find themselves told to wait, to do less, or not do at all.
elegiaque: (097)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2022-08-03 11:05 am (UTC)(link)
Upon consideration—

Gwenaëlle tilts her head sideways, reaching up behind her for the geometric jeweled hairpiece that she often wears woven into her curls and braids; loosening it from where it's presently secured spills hair around her face, but she brings it down for Derrica to look at, the small precious stones set at each join.

“When my mother was killed,” a thing she can say with such steadiness, now, years later, “Knight-Enchanter Herian Amsel gave me woven flowers in this shape. I don't know if you knew her, she was elfblooded, like me, but from the Starkhaven alienage. It was a traditional thing that I couldn't wear as it was, at the time, so I commissioned this—”

(Lex, with wilting flowers and strong wine and a future that is closed, now,)

she touches a gem with her thumb, shrugs a bit in a way that'd be awkward if Gwenaëlle often gave way to the concept of awkwardness.

“I think there's room for an argument that we share more than we don't. I mean, you lot just want to choose how you live your lives, don't you? I want that.”

She isn't a diplomat. But it feels like proof of concept, to her.
tender: (Default)

[personal profile] tender 2022-08-07 07:37 pm (UTC)(link)
"I want that."

Agreement.

"Not just for me. I see Matthias, and he has had so little in his life. I want more for him than to be closed away and treated like he's dangerous, mistreated because of it."

And there are so many others who come to her mind.

And beyond that, the apprentices from Dairsmuid. Guilty of no crime but existing within those walls, and not being sufficiently entombed.

"I think that is something we all share. Wanting better for the people we love."