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.
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.
Entrance Hall; Aftermath
She takes walks through the darkened halls, slow and quiet, breathing in and out of view, a soft blue shimmer before invisibility wraps her up, keeps anyone she passes from seeing her and striking up a conversation, or questioning why she's there.
She pauses at Matthias though, coming quietly upon a touch of inspired vandalism. Ellie lets out a snicker before she claps a hand over her mouth, the soft blue light over her heart glowing, the edges of her body blurred.
He shushes her, she nods, and then she follows him.
"There's some more in the hall," she whispers, becoming fully visible out of nowhere. She holds out a hand.
"Want a hand?"
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"Yeah," he says, with a grin, "all right. C'mon." The charcoal pencil is easily snapped in half. One for Ellie, one for him. "Show me where."
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"Stay close to me, just in case," she whispers. "I can make both of us invisible if I can touch you."
The glow's gone while she speaks. It's only when she's going into invisibility or coming out of it, and thankfully it's a softer sort of light.
Ellie leads the way around the corner and down a darkened corridor. There are magical sconces glowing, lighting the hall, but the imposing figures of the important-looking busts are there, and charcoal will easily buff off.
They want to piss them off, not cause actual harm.
Ellie approaches one, quickly adding spectacles and a pipe, then glancing over her shoulder for Matthias' reaction. (And maybe to see what he's up to.)
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Well. Maybe exactly this, for starters.
Matthias laughs at the sight of Ellie's handiwork--too loud, first, and then he claps a hand over his mouth to stifle the rest. "Brilliant," he whispers, once he can trust himself, "only don't forget the eyebrows--any class Enchanter has got," and he gestures to his eyebrows--downturned, bushy, massive--just look at what he's done to the bust he was working on. A thick horseshoe of a unibrow adorns its brow, and a jagged beard has been rendered over the smooth chin.
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Ellie cracks up with him, a snort that she quickly smothers behind her hand.
"Don't forget the massive muttonchops," she whispers, scribbling them in. It's starting to look like a proper work of art, here.
Grinning, she moves quickly onto the next one. It's almost like she's vandalized something before!
Snickering to herself, she draws jagged crocodile teeth.
"What else for this dude?"
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The bust Matthias is working on already has a large nose, so there's no room for improvement there. He starts detailing a pox instead--not the easiest to render with a single charcoal pencil, so it mostly looks like clusters of circles. Whatever. This isn't a painter's studio in Orlais.
"You're good at this," he says in a stage whisper, as he moves to his next one. Keep it simple this time: maybe just a cock drawn on his cheek. Why not!
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Ellie grins to herself, adding an artistic flourish of lashes to the third eye on the bust's forehead, then glances over at Matthias' fantastic rendering of a mage's staff. Fuck, they're gonna get caught because she's laughing.
"Not so bad yourself. They're gonna flip."
She sounds delighted by the prospect. It'll probably take a while to sort through a whole investigation, of course. Oh dear.
A light starts to glow faintly behind Matthias' shoulder and down the hall, though. Still far off, might even be one of theirs. But it looks like it's time to go.
Ellie beckons him closer, so they can make a quick getaway.
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His cheerful whisper ought to be a little quieter, but their success is making him feel bold. So bold that he lingers over the bust, adding artful sprinkles of hair. The little glow is getting brighter and now there's footsteps to go along with it, and they really ought to have cleared off by now, probably. Matthias makes a great show of standing back and considering his handiwork with a critical eye. He leans back in--adds one more hair--and then shoves the pencil in his pocket. The thrill of danger makes him nearly skip over to Ellie.
"C'mon, then!"
Like she was the one dawdling. The footsteps are getting louder. And is that a shocked gasp, as the light finds the first of the busts?
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She holds out her bare hand for his, taking a deep breath as they connect and her fingers wrap around his. She puts her fingertip to her lips in a hushing gesture, and the invisibility wraps around the both of them like soft blue veil. It mutes the world just a touch, like it's setting them apart, and they disappear entirely from sight.
She leads them quickly but quietly from the hallway, and by the set of her mouth, she's holding her breath. They have a limited amount of time before she needs to breathe again, and they'd best get around a corner.
They do, with Ellie's booted feet near soundless on the carpet. She draws them into the darkness, away from the halo of light and takes another breath before they have another go.
She'll do it over and over until they're well away from the scene of the crime, and find a worthy trellis to climb to put them on an entirely different floor. Ellie snickers as she scrambles up the makeshift ladder, reaching down a hand to help pull Matthias up.
"Man, this takes me back."
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But he's not so distracted that he gives them away. Just a few bumps here and there, and once he nearly laughs--and his boots tread a little heavier than hers--but he follows her up the trellis easily enough. Doesn't mean he turns down the hand up that she offers.
"What, you do this sort of thing often? Defacing statues and defaming precious balls-old history, then popping off into invisibility and getting away clear and free? 'Cos it shows." Which is a compliment. He grins at her, in case that wasn't clear.
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"I used to, back when I was in school. Minus the invisibility. My ass got caught plenty."
It wasn't pretty, but it got her really good at not getting caught.
"This is different, though. We drew dicks on those statues for a cause."
She playfully widens her eyes at him, over-innocent.
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"Oh, aye? Do I want to know what sort of cause that was?"
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"Angry people make mistakes. Get distracted." She pauses, tilts her head.
"Underestimate you."
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"Think I ought to stick with you and learn some. Feels like I'm always on the other end--the one getting distracted, and angry, making mistakes. Though," and he huffs a self-deprecating laugh, "I don't need any help being underestimated. I can meet you on that one at least."
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She can read into enough of what he said at the meeting to piece a little bit of it together.
"I dunno if I can teach you about not doing any of that shit," she says, in full honesty. Sam's voice rings in the back of her mind, an uncomfortable twinge of grief.
How is that you're never scared?
"Especially in being underestimated." Ellie pauses, drags her tongue along her bottom lip. "I started... all this." She gestures at herself, at her weapons. "As a kid." She catches her lip in her teeth, gathers her thoughts.
Matthias did too. Maybe even younger than her.
"I guess somewhere along the way, I started using that. It gets people to drop their guard, you know?"
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He takes a breath. Lets it out again, all at once, half an exhalation, half a heavy sigh.
"And not only him. I was with the rebel mages as well, but I learnt about the Conclave at the same time as everyone else? Feels like what I've done doesn't matter 'cos I wasn't with the right mages. Or like I was too small at the time for people to care or think I had any real part in it. That's why I was dead excited to talk with Grand Enchanter Fiona. Felt like I could make her get it. Like-- Well, like you do, right? Get it? 'Cos you've been at it since you were small, like you said. But you've worked out--" He does a little looping motion with his fingers, like he's stitching something in the air. "Threaded that needle, like. How to have people take you seriously and how to use it when people underestimate you, instead of getting angry and going off and, and kicking 'em in the knee and run off."
He chips his heel at the floor as they walk, a little demonstration of what he might do. With a scowl, he shakes his head.
"Sorry. That's all-- Sorry. Stupid. Saying that's not going to help anyone take me seriously."
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His words are harder to pick out at first, but she's spent some time listening to Matthias by now, getting used to how he talks, and it's as much the emotion as the explanation. It purges itself out of him like he's been holding it in somehow, and god, she knows that fucking feeling.
Worse, she doesn't know what to say, and it probably shows on her face. Maybe that's why he starts apologizing.
"Shit- no, no. It sounded like something you needed to say." Ellie pauses, reaching up to twist at where her fingers are gone, trying to order what she has. Trying to make sure it's... enough.
"I do get it." A muscle works in Ellie's jaw. "And it- I only got like this by just... doing it. By being bigger than I felt?"
She doesn't feel big right now. But somehow, he hasn't seen that she's an imposter.
"And sucking at it. And doing a lot of stupid shit. And it sucks, because when you start to do it, it doesn't seem like much, and it never seems like you're doing it right, but."
She cuts herself off because she's getting away from the point.
"What I mean is that- you're already doing it."
Tilting her head back towards the gallery.
"In the morning they're gonna have a shitfit about this, and it'll be exactly what we needed to stall, so Fiona's people can get here. And maybe I'm the only person who's gonna know about it, but."
She shrugs, helplessly.
"I know about it. And- you know about it. And you're gonna know about it, next time you do something. And it changes the way you hold yourself.
"And that's what people see."
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"Maybe." He swallows, scrubs a hand over his face, trying to clear his head. "Maybe, yeah. Being bigger--acting bigger, I mean--I get that. I can try that. I do try. But if I'm feeling it, if it does change the way I'm holding myself, as you said--well, if no one's looking at me, does it matter? I dunno," and here he interrupts himself, with a little scowl, eyes back on the floor again, "I know that's stupid. It's not like anyone else is worrying about that. And there's bigger things besides that I ought to be worried about. That's what I mean, I s'ppose. Saying it doesn't help."
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She wonders who told him not to be too much, not to hurt too loud.
Things happen, and we move on, Joel's voice echoes in her head, and she still remembers the feeling of sick impotence and helpless grief with no outlet. She'd felt stupid and childish. These things happen all the time.
"I think it matters," she says.
She pauses, the corners of her mouth tight.
"I noticed you. In that meeting. And after, when you decided to come with us."
Ellie hadn't the least objection to Matthias traveling with them; and she suspects that Kostos' objections had more to do with Kostos than with Matthias.
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"Yeah." He swallows, hard, and drops his gaze. It feels too much to be so connected "Thanks."
It comes out stupid and wet and small. Matthias pulls a face at himself, and chips the heel of his boot against the flagstone floor as they walk.
"Thanks," he says again, a bit stronger this time. "I mean it. Appreciate it. And I s'ppose it does matter, maybe, a little. Only I wish, sometimes-- that I didn't care at all, y'know? About what people think. I don't, but I do as well. When it counts." He sucks in a breath, lets it out. Right. "Did you get to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona much, when we were on our way here? I never did ask."
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So instead of answering him, she elbows him lightly as they walk, latching onto the new subject to get them both settled.
"Yeah, I did a little. She's not bad. She kinda came off more like a schoolteacher than a general, though."
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"Don't see how they're much different. Everyone what's ever taught me mostly barked out orders. I think she's brilliant," in case that's not obvious. "She's lived the same as the rest of us, so she knows what she's talking about. That's what I think, anyways."
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"... why did you come to Riftwatch instead of her?" she asks, quietly.
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"Because--" He swallows. "Because I didn't know what to do next. We were at Ghislain. The mages from my Circle, I mean--and the others that had joined us. We didn't join the Inquisition after the Conclave. We stayed out in the field. We weren't opposed to Grand Enchanter Fiona, we liked her, thought she was well brilliant, but we were-- we weren't ready to be finished fighting. But then the battle happened, and we went, and-- I don't reckon you were here, then. It was-- bad," and he laughs, because the word is so stupid, really, "it was bad, and they all died, nearly. So."
Matthias looks down at the floor. He swallows again.
"There were some of us left alive. And Enchanter Hennessy had said, before Ghislain-- by then, she reckoned we'd be best off to join the Inquisition. She said that before she was killed, and so I-- I did."
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Matthias had clearly lost friends, people he respected, people who had watched out for him most of his life.
It's hard. Knowing where to go from there.
"I'm glad you're with us," she says quietly.
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