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.
cumberland.
If there's danger, it's likely waiting for them behind the jeweled walls they've slipped out from.
Pessimistic? John prefers realistic. Its surely not an unfair assessment of the consequences of an unchecked proposal.
But as to the question—
"I've been meaning to stop in at the Diamond Lass. And perhaps a few others taverns, depending on how much time I can reasonably stay away."
Negotiations don't just stop. John is balancing his time carefully, but it's not perfect. There's still a risk of missing an opportunity while he's taking measure of things in the city proper.
no subject
"Do you need a... weirdly dressed bodyguard?" she asks, glancing down at her clothes. They're nice, but not exactly fancy. Inwardly she winces; if it weren't for Astarion, she wouldn't have started giving a fuck about the impression given by dressing nicely.
no subject
She can't be faulted for it. John knows what his appearance telegraphs.
The consideration ranges beyond the matter. What John plans to accomplish, the topics he would like to speak of in these taverns, would be better if they were not reported back to anyone waiting for them in Kirkwall.
"I'm not necessarily in need of defense," is mild, amusement standing in for any more revealing emotion. "I might ask if you care to spend your night listening to a pack of sailors trade gossip."
Sailors being a broad term, in this instance.
no subject
She shrugs a little. She's obviously no great lady of means, or a merchant, or even a sailor. Adventurer, maybe? Hired blade? Bodyguard? Those would pass. Being a Rifter would too, but that's not something she wants to flash all over town.
"I'd like to come," she says, clarifying, straightening her shoulders. He didn't invite her. "But if you'd rather go alone, I can find something else to do."
no subject
Which may well be no further than that. With the shard concealed, who can place her? The accent is strange, but in a port city such a thing is only remarkable in passing. There may well be people stranger-sounding in attendance tonight.
"I wouldn't mind the company," is smoothly delivered, followed by a delicately-put question, "How much experience do you have in speaking to strangers in a tavern?"
no subject
"I'm fine with it. My last official job before Riftwatch, I worked security at a bar." So that counts for something. If it's not skill, at least it's familiarity.
"Anything you're looking for?"
Aside from information about nightmares, and how they are here.
no subject
"Opinions on the war, always."
The mildest form of what John is after.
But there are aspects of what he's interested in that are better kept to himself. So it is this, the pared down, broadest iteration, that he passes to her.
"Things have shifted this past year. With Orlais, and the Marches, and then with the embargo in Antiva. I'd be interested to hear what they make of it here."
no subject
Tucking her hair behind one ear, she sets a steady pace in the right direction, doesn't assume they need to slow down for John's leg. She'll adjust as needed and without comment.
"I scouted out some stuff here a while back," she says. "Some old guy died and left behind a bunch of books and artifacts, and of course he was into the weird shit. It wouldn't surprise me if getting weird shit moved has gotten harder around here."
It's not code, exactly, but if you know you know.
no subject
Not only because John can see an immediate use for the Walrus and it's crew. Keeping them chasing prizes, acquiring coin and content with both is always at the forefront of his mind.
But public opinion is something he needs a better read on for a number of reasons, not all to be shared with Ellie. However earnest and quick-adapting she appears.
"It's a port city, so they'll likely have the most at stake in terms of moving shit."
Ha ha, Rifter slang.
"Try not to give any opinions of your own," John advises, falling into step with her. "No one need hear what you think of the present state of affairs. They'll be freer with their opinion in the absence of yours."
no subject
Ellie says it amiably, keeping pace with him as she straightens the cuffs of her gloves. It's like a weight lifted off of her, being outside of the College. Outside of the scrutiny and pompous bullshit.
Despite how good Ellie is at violence, she doesn't actually enjoy always feeling like she's on the edge of watching it erupt.
"I was kinda surprised you came with us," Ellie ventures. "Not that I'm not glad to see another friendly face. But this isn't exactly a fun vacation."
no subject
"Oh, I don't know," he says, light as they round the corner. "It's a far better time than we had in Antiva, for one."
Ha, ha.
But rather than leave it at simply the joke, John continues, "I think it benefits us all to take interest in opposing the prospect that a significant number of our fellows might be gathered up and consigned to a cell when our work has finished."
John has said as much publicly, often, and long before this particular wrinkle appeared.
The choice of words is deliberate too.
"I've no grounds to address the assembly, but there's nothing to stop me from doing what I can on the sidelines."
no subject
"No getting poisoned at least. So far."
Har.
Her expression smooths out, though, and she anchors her teeth on the inside of her cheek, softening.
"Well. Thanks. From somebody who doesn't like the looks of that cage." She shrugs her shoulders upward, shrugging slightly. She's never all that great with gratitude, but she appreciates him. "I wish more people felt like that."
no subject
John has some sense of how he might approach it. He'll turn it over with Flint, with Petrana, consider how much might become Riftwatch business even though it seems inevitable that it might be something John pursues outside of Riftwatch's purview.
He will make sense of that in time.
"We'll see how far I get with it," is light, John straightening as they pause on a street corner. Listening, before choosing their direction. Ahead of them, a cluster of sailors burst into laughter, hurrying along the street. A fair marker for where their destination may be. John continues, "Though for this trip I'll settle for finding a few Loyalists willing to exchange letters with me."
no subject
She pulls her hair back from her face, listening as she keeps pace.
"That'd be a job and a half already."
Mostly, Ellie doesn't know how he can stand talking to them.
The sailors disappear into a tavern down the road, and Ellie angles towards it, getting the door for them both.
no subject
After all, the only reason they're here in the first place is because Kostos Averesch received a letter.
John would like some insurance, nevermind the opportunity to change minds. They go hand in hand, as far as he's concerned.
"Now, who looks of interest to you here?" encompasses the tavern at large, the assembly of sailors and otherwise, packing around tables with their tankards. There is a fair amount of choice.
no subject
"Lots," Ellie murmurs. "Guy at the bar by himself, at the end. He's writing something in a notebook. Could be a ledger. Keeping accounts."
A quick flick of her eyes towards one of the more full tables. There's a group of younger men, still new to this life but experienced enough to enjoy the shore leave. One younger man looking like he's trying hard to fit in, yelling lustily, a little louder than the others.
"New guy there. Probably new to the ships. Excited to be here. Happy to brag to somebody who seems impressed."
Ellie glances back to John. "Always the bartender. Or the band. Play the right song and everyone dances."
And she probably doesn't have to tell him what an opportunity that creates. But- deep down, she wants to impress him. It won't kill her if she doesn't, but she can't pretend it's not a part of her motivation in this.
no subject
Any of these options would be a promising start. John has wound his way through such assemblies over and over. After all this time, the different paths one might take through a packed tavern become rote.
"Avoid the ones who look as if they've bitten into something rotten," is not advice Ellie actually needs, but John says aloud as a caution to them both. "I'm inclined to send you to see what you can gather from the man tending to his accounts, if it won't be too much of an imposition."
An accountant on their own might offer up a very clear picture of the opinions held by captain, quartermaster and crew. And there's some measure of good faith in it: Ellie can guide conversation in such a way that the topic will come naturally.
no subject
She smiles at the advice; a few years earlier it might've itched at her, but now she knows how it's meant.
"Sounds good to me. Captain?" she asks, tilting her head, waiting for either dismissal or more advice, or more requests.