faderift | PLAYER PLOT: The Least of His Children

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PLAYER PLOT: The Least of His Children

WHO: Nathaniel Howe, Felix Alexius, Anders, James Norrington, Kaisa Daesun, Fenris, Araceli, Inessa.
WHAT: A quest to rescue a slave.
WHEN: August 26
WHERE: Tevinter
NOTES: Will update. Plotting post is here.

The Mastermind: Nathaniel Howe
The Game: Green Goods
The Grifter: Felix Alexius
The Mark: Magister Leo Valerius is an ailing old man, but his mind is sharp. His main concern of late has been to leave his sons a good inheritance, though he isn't exactly straight-up greedy.
The Prize: Alavda Endris is a slave to Valerius. The bad news is that she almost never leaves his side. The good news is that that makes her easy to find.

The Plan: One team is sent in, with Felix dressed as a minor lordling and his entourage trying to climb the social ladder by schmoozing an old magister. Felix claims to be staying as a guest of a nearby lord (technically true) and only visiting for the day. Valerius must believe this boy is an upstart with no political value and too much money.

Another team performs a heist and gains the money Valerius keeps at this estate by pretending to be contractors hired to work on the floorboards in the room with the vault door (an appointment Valerius set up months ago and our team hijacked). Planting bees in the floorboards will clear the room of guards. Felix pretends to fall in love with Alavda and asks to borrow her from Valerius. If Valerius hesitates, Felix offers him more and more money until he consents. He has loaned Alavda to other lords before, and Felix's show of being petulant and stupid should help wear away any suspicion that this is a set-up. In that way, it's a basic hustle. Once Valerius consents, Felix then sends an attendant outside to fetch that amount from the money stolen from Valerius' vault. The entourage departs, claiming to be returning to the local lord's house. They leave with Alavda and return to Skyhold.

MAJOR OBSTACLES:

Alavda is wearing an enchanted collar which allows Valerius to locate her. If it is cut away or in most any other way removed, it sends a massive and lethal shock through her system. The team will need to find a way to remove the collar without killing Alavda.

If/when the collar is removed, Valerius will send people to find her.

Valerius has about twenty guards on his property.

The vault door operates on reacting to a specific keystone which cannot be found, but aside from the magical lock, the mechanism is still a mechanism. A good thief can crack it.

IMPORTANT NOTE: It is vital that the members of this team keep their involvement and mission details secret before and after the mission. It must not get out that Inquisition members and affiliates were involved in hustling a magister.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

An elf voluntarily traveling to Tevinter is not likely a common sight, and yet Inessa is doing just that. She remains close to the party as they make their way to the Imperium, growing quieter and more observant the further they travel from familiar lands. Perhaps there will be nothing to worry about and all will go as planned, but Inessa has survived by anticipating less favorable outcomes. Whatever tension lies within her, she doesn't seem to want to discuss it though. Any questions are usually met with subject changes, wanting to focus on the mission at hand. Garahel is a comfort at least, the large mabari taking point at times and scouting around for any sign of trouble. When he's sure there aren't any, he'll return for a treat and some petting.

Whenever they stop to make camp, Inessa is ready to assist, by now used to a much less comfortable life than the Circle in which she was raised. She's not much of a cook, but if anyone wants tea, there she shines. As much as they travel in a day, Garahel doesn't really need playtime to wind down now but that doesn't prevent her from playing fetch with him or letting him take the ball to someone else in hopes of the same.

While she makes a point to speak with everyone at some point or another, Inessa's curiosity about Tevinter will make Fenris and Felix a priority. When she's sure Garahel won't be attention-needy due to napping or playing with another, she'll seek them out with a polite smile and her usual soft-spoken tone. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

Edited 2016-08-27 23:22 (UTC)

Tevinter isn't a place Araceli had researched much beyond the history needed to fill in the gaps, not until before volunteering to come along but she once again finds herself uniquely grateful for First Day. Chance meetings at parties with Tevinter priests are uncommonly rare, and so she does have that, tempered with everything else to fall back on. Lux sticks close to her heels, not exactly made for tracking like a mabari but she knows what he's useful for.

A lookout that's lighter on their feet than anyone with two legs could ever wish to be? Lux all over.

Still, as someone that actually despairs about how terrible (translation: bland) the majority of the food seems to be for the trip, Araceli is more than happy to volunteer for the majority of cooking duties. Which is why she waves a hand in Inessa's direction, holding out a spoon to her.

"Can you come taste this? I don't want to burn your tongues off."

Cooking isn't something Inessa's at all skilled in, thanks to Circle life and a year and a half of having other people to take care of such matters. So, she's just has happy to leave that duty to someone else. At least in theory. Looking up from her book, she realizes the Antivan woman is speaking to her and stands, brushing off her armor.

"As a Fereldan, I appreciate the consideration for my tongue. What am I testing?"

Make that 'what are we testing, since Garahel smells food and upon seeing that the almost-as-short human woman is offering some, he plops right down in front of her, all hopeful. He's sitting so still and polite, isn't that worth something?

Camping is camping, and more at home on the rolling deck of a ship or wherever they'll be based, she doesn't know how to do an awful lot of the camping things. Like the tents. Or what makes for good firewood. But cooking? Cooking she can do just fine as she hands the spoon over, stirring it carefully with another so it doesn't burn in the small pot.

"As an Antivan," honourary but better to get used to calling herself that now to save hassle in Tevinter, "I will mourn for your tastebuds. This doesn't have a name though, it's a bit of this, a bit of that. I think we can safely call it stew? But the dried meat should be soft and not taste of boiled leather by now."

Lux is a chancer and a thief, but even he knows better than to try his luck when Araceli is cooking for more than just them as she waits for Inessa's verdict, content to ignore the dog for now.

"No boiled leather meat? Now that's luxury." Inessa grins at the response, having heard all the criticisms about Ferelden by now. Some are well-deserved, though at least in this case she's willing to try something different.

Garahel wiggles, still silent but it won't be long before there's a plaintive whine accompanying that. He eyes his mistress mournfully, who cruelly has him wait a moment as she takes a small taste. Her eyebrows raise and she eyes the dish with new respect. "Definitely flavorful, but not 'my throat is on fire' potent. This I can handle."

"It is a wonder that some folk here have their teeth past thirty." Give Araceli an inch and she will take a mile with her complaints about the state of the food in most of Thedas so far; study countries, you study their dishes too and so many places being small and provincial and landlocked? How they get anything good is beyond her.

Watching the hound carefully since she doesn't have a great deal of experience around these overly large slobbering things, she shakes her head even as she smiles. "Good, I don't imagine drinking the nearest river dry will do much to help us travel relatively quietly. I can spice my own portion to my liking." Who brings ghost peppers on a rescue mission? The person that's going to win at life, that's who. "Your friend needs to learn table manners, even in the countryside that is no excuse."

"Garahel. You can do better than that. You're not a puppy anymore." Stern words cause that whine to trail off and the mabari bows his head, appropriately contrite. "He is perfectly obedient on the battlefield, but off it...well, I usually don't have to remind him twice, at least." But yeah, he's a little spoiled.

"I would offer my assistance, though I'm afraid I would have to be taught. Circle mages weren't given such lessons, and with the Grey Wardens, it's usually been rations or such."

Lux pops his head up, yawns hugely, smugly, then tucks his nose under his tail to go back to sleep. Araceli will share her dinner with him later; he's a pest in Skyhold when he gets away with it but when she won't settle? No. He'll behave. "I don't know if spice will agree with a dog, I've never fed anyone's mabari so I will stay upwind if you decide to share your dinner with him." Since there are peppers, and it's a small camp.

With another sigh and shake of her head, she kicks at the flames to bank them lower - a slow steady heat will be enough to simmer off the excess juices so it's not too wet until everyone is ready to eat. "Cooking requires discipline, I'm surprised they didn't have you all lined up in the kitchens to help out though it'd be one thing you'd know how to do if you were the type to escape." Knowing how to cook would be such a boon to someone attempting to fend for themselves, because trying to do anything when you can't think for the gnawing hunger in your belly becomes a mounting nightmare. With a tut, she makes a face. "Field rations. You wound me."

"Garahel will eat anything that's not actively poisonous, so I'm not worried about him." The mabari perks back up at that, rather smug in his ability to shrug off nearly anything. He's almost never been genuinely ill due to something eaten, though he's certainly faked it to get attention. As for the result...well, her lips twitch briefly, but she'll say nothing else.

"Our sole focus was on learning to control our powers. Cooking would have been a distraction. At least, that's what I remember being told. I never sought to escape; there was no reason, for me. This isn't to say that I would have eschewed such learning if it were available, however." It could never be her focus, but Inessa likes the idea of learning a little bit about everything she can. Why not? And she shrugs. "When you're stalking darkspawn underground, creating fires is really the last thing you want to do as it would alert them to your position. The rations are rather bland even for Fereldans, but sometimes there's no other resort."

"Shows how much they know. I learned when I was a little girl, and it's much more than that. It's about being careful, following the instructions, making do with what you have, and then getting to be creative once you know what you're doing. Do you know what it's like to try to cook for a whole building of people on a tight budget so that everyone can eat at the same time, and so they can eat well, but so you don't waste anything? How to plan with the leftovers? They should teach that." Actually this is probably the sort of thing she should be talking about with Anders but sorry, Inessa, how could cooking ever be a distraction, that's slander and she won't have. She is also gesturing very sharply with her spoon, a habit picked up from the countless men and women who had ever taught her anything in a kitchen. "You ever want to learn? You come to me. I can show you the basics. Even making a broth so you can make your bread and cheese and salted meat less dull."

Still, it's been a long time since Araceli spoke to a Warden (Anders being Anders, she tends to keep him in a quite separate bracket for most things, and she suspects she is not alone in that) and casting a glance around for the others as she stretches. "Isn't there a way you could do something with magic? If a day is hot enough you can fry an egg on a hot stone. Couldn't you carefully use your magic in such a way that they wouldn't need to even see a flame?"

(Look this is the girl who is responsible for at least one delivery of fresh fish to Skyhold via ice magic so she is the forward thinking one.)

"Not all mages conjure flame, you know." Inessa smiles, shaking her head. "My focus is in spirit and ice magic. Knowing the latter can help with food preservation, though, which we've done before. And yes, that took some time to learn how to do so properly. That's not typically taught on the inside, so it took plenty of guesswork, and failures, beforehand.

But thank you for the offer. I wouldn't say no to learning more than how to make tea--or mabari crunch treats." Yes, tea and dogs take priority. So Fereldan, at least in that respect. "Have you taught other mages? There can't be many with that skill, and yet I can see some wishing to learn now that they have the opportunity."

"You have a world with magic. And nearly everywhere you are locked up." Spoon safely in the pot, she clicks her tongue so Lux can come over and hop up into her lap to allow her to pet him, to let her calm down because it upsets her, how backwards the world is. "Such a narrow definition of serving man, think of how it could be, out helping people with little things like that. Fresh food - it means so much. It means so much."

Not just to a girl that's homesick for silly comforts but for people that don't actually have any sort of way to keep food fresh; she saw what happened in the Fallow Mire because no one seemed to know what they were doing with anything. Surely some sort of magic could have done something, if mages were free to live as normal folk. "What is a mabari crunch?" The question is more as a distraction, to get her mind away from something that upsets her for a few minutes at least. "I'm the climbing teacher, there are already enough cooks in Skyhold and one of them hates me."

Burly, Raas, Kalla? They love her. The Fereldan one will probably dislike her when Araceli complains about her cooking but whatever.

"I don't disagree on any of that, actually. The Circle has its place, but I've never been against broadening definitions, as you say. Perhaps such food preparation is the way things used to be, beforehand." Inessa can't say, since the vast amount of tomes available in Kinloch Hold didn't cover that topic, nor was she able to find out much information in Chantry-dominated lands. Tevinter might be different.

"A mabari crunch is a dog treat made of elfroot and deep mushroom, crushed and baked. Garahel loves it." He perks up and barks, tail wagging just at the thought of having one. "Why does one of the cooks hate you?" Inessa stares, puzzled. As far as she can tell, Araceli's been nothing but kind and helpful, so that seems out of nowhere.

"What did you enjoy about the Circle? If you don't mind me asking, if so, I apologise and we can strike it from the record. Only I think all of the mages I know from the Circle that were not in an elevated position have had very little good to say about it." Or they're from Rivain and that's impossible to compare things to since Rivain was so very different before the Annulment.

"I thought elfroot was a healing supply, and deep mushrooms...come from the Deep Roads?" It lilts up into a question to confirm, eyes flicking up and away to recall what it was she'd read in her studies. As for the subject of the cook that hates her, a groan works free from very deep in Araceli's chest before she laughs. Ah. Her nemesis. "She hates me because for a start she's a harridan, you can ask anyone, she was there from the start and since I was one of the people responsible for recruiting the three Tal-Vashoth cooks she probably thinks I'm attempting to have her removed from her position. But she has such a temper that she takes out on the other cooks. Or if you ever go to the kitchens to ask if you might make a meal for someone. Even if you say you will pay for whatever you use and clean up and help out with whatever else needs doing. Avoid her like the plague, she's a dreadful woman, no one that works in a kitchen should be so miserable."

"I...might know who you mean. I remember during that massive snowball fight with the flags, that one of the kitchen servants was there handing out hot drinks. I tried to speak with her, but doing so...well. It was like pulling teeth. I thought that perhaps it might have been because I'm a mage or an elf or both, but it was never confirmed." She shrugs, still a little puzzled but not going to waste sleep on it.

"Deep mushrooms come from anywhere subterranean, at least in the south. Fortunately, you won't have to travel all the way to the Deep Roads for them. They're not worth that much." Garahel huffs, just happy to have them now. As Inessa pets him, her expression grows thoughtful. "I enjoyed much about my time in the Circle. Alienages aren't areas abundant in opportunities or resources, and what little I do remember made that very clear. However, in the Circle, I had a warm place to sleep, regular meals, clothes that fit, an education that's arguably among the best in Thedas. None of that would have been possible anywhere else. In those walls, it didn't matter that I was an elf. I was a mage first and foremost."

"Oh! Oh no not her. She's newer - the one that complained about a jam thief? No. This is an older woman again, the one that hates me." Araceli only knows the other one by reputation but she's not about to go casting aspersions but seriously, she is so glad for the Tal-Vashoth trio. "Burly, Raas, and Kalla? They're wonderful. Giants but wonderful. Burly is the one in charge of making sweets, he's incredible, I would fight duels in his honour if anyone upset him."

Burly is your heart growing three sizes back in Skyhold it better, look at your one woman hype squad.

"Would you like mushrooms Lux?" The fox makes a noise that means he can take or leave them - there are very few mushrooms where they come, he'd rather go hunting for more interesting meaty things than mushrooms to stick in a dog biscuit. "Most of my elven friends are Dalish, and some of what I believe overlaps neatly with them but I've heard about Alienages, a little. Where I come from there are only humans but the poor can only afford to live in certain places, and even then it's a choice: do you pay the rent or do you put food on the table, and people might come along to look down at you. I saw how my friends were treated in Val Royeaux - the look one of them was given just because she even touched a corset when we went shopping together.

"So it didn't matter there then? Not at all, that you were elven? I confess, for all that I can play along as the Antivan when it suits me, I cannot imagine stripping away any part of what I am, even when I know it might make life easier here and at home."

"Ah. Then forget what I said, I don't think I've encountered that particular cook. Most of my meals are taken at the Warden camp, anyway." Inessa perks up a little at mention of Burly and sweets, though. "I'll keep Burly in mind, then. Quality sweets are not always easy to find."

She shakes her head in response to the question about her heritage and the Circle. "No, it didn't matter. The fact that we were mages and held to the same risks and responsibilities was what bound us together. If anything, being and elf made adjusting easier. I know little about the Dalish, but for city elves, life doesn't afford them a lot of choices. So, when we're taken by Templars and sent to live elsewhere, it's not as different as you would think in that respect. On the other hand, I've met many human mages who mourn the lives they would have had if their magic hadn't manifested." She shrugs, not truly able to relate to that but sympathetic nonetheless.

"That isn't to say I wouldn't have liked to learn more about my heritage, but my fate was never tied to the alienage. I've long ago accepted this, and moved on." And that last part gets her attention, eyebrow arching. "Oh, you're not Antivan? My apologies, for assuming. Rivain, then? Or are you a rifter?"

"He makes macarons. If you've had those before. If not then when we're back at Skyhold come with me and I'll make sure you get some as soon as they're ready, they're incredible," Araceli confides with a grin, as if someone might overhear such talk and want in on the action. Beleth might be salty but she doesn't have the monopoly on getting treats out of Burly. (Actually having a kadan should net you benefits anyway.)

Listening quietly with her hands mostly busy stroking Lux as he makes himself comfortable in her lap, she nods to show her understanding. "Nobility is taken from them when they're taken to the Circles, and it's a very rare family that would actively keep their ties to their child." Either by choice or not, the Circle was the Circle, and the Mages lived their own lives once they were taken in most respects, that much Araceli knows from her reading as well as generally mingling with people. "I suppose only the poorest of them might be happy within the Circle, generally the poor no matter where you go have very few freedoms beyond those not granted by their invisibility."

And that in itself is such a double-edged sword: no one might see you, but then no one might look for you if you don't come home, or no one will be able to do anything about it. It's why thieves have their groups and cling tight in their own way, with at least one fence that loves you dearly so you matter.

Waving away the apology, she smiles and shrugs. Better than demon, and Zevran is so dear to her heart that it doesn't hurt to be mistaken for his countryman. "There's a running bet that's been going since I arrived that I'm Antivan, think nothing of it; the tongue is so close to my own that I can pass for one. With a dash of Rivain for the love of sailing." Peeling off the glove she's wearing, something she normally wouldn't but it's Tevinter, and the priest made her wary enough that she wants to be used to the feel of it, she reveals just enough of her left hand for the moment to answer the question. "Being Antivan is more useful for this mission." Fewer awkward questions, fewer people to stare for the worst sort of reasons.

Inessa shakes her head at mention of macarons, not having had that kind of exposure yet. She certainly won't say no to trying them, however. "Watch out, you might encourage the Grey Wardens into visiting Skyhold more than the Inquisition is comfortable with." Because there's no way she's not sharing this with Ciri, and it could snowball from there.

"That's often the way of it, yes. Magic in a stain on a noble family nearly everywhere but Tevinter. It will make visiting the Imperium rather...interesting, as a mage." Would she be afforded any respect as a mage, or would her obvious elven heritage cancel that out completely? She can't say for certain, but knows better than to get her hopes up.

For her part, Inessa seems interested rather than repulsed. She knows exactly what demons are, and has never bought the murmurings that rifters were demons from beyond. "It must be comforting to find such commonalities, though I'm sorry for you're sake that they're not closer at hand. The south is quite different, for good or ill."

Warden business proper is something Araceli keeps herself separate from but she comes and goes from the camp when she has the time: the Kestrels are there, and she's friends with them, helps their ongoing efforts to be people, often with a lute though not a single Warden would ever have knowingly heard her play. "There are plenty of guards about Skyhold, I don't think it would cause a terrible scene." Araceli reports to the Nightingale too, but she isn't about to let that one out of the bag, not here, not now. Inessa is not a person she knows well enough for such a thing.

"I met a priest months ago, a Tevinter priest. In Skyhold." The clarification might not be needed but she does go on assignment to other places so perhaps it's best to make sure no stories go growing arms and legs. "An interesting man though every man like that has a vested interest somewhere. We aren't here for sightseeing though," she adds gently since she knows just how much she wanted to explore Antiva to her heart's content the second time she went there. "Officially? We were never here. Though I think the place you'd be treated kindest is Rivain, it doesn't seem to matter who or what you are there."

Even Araceli's hand didn't really bother anyone. The mages liked the distraction at the camp, the sailors made exactly the sort of jokes about green hands Araceli always wants to make herself (but people here are so sensitive, it's a nightmare), and on the voyage home the mages just poked her some more. "The south is bloody cold, I hadn't even seen snow until I landed in it. And magic was only something we made up in stories."

That description of the south provokes soft laughter from Inessa. "Really? None at all? Though in a way, I understand. When I first left the tower, I had forgotten Ferelden's...interesting weather. Believe me, I was soon reminded in spades.

I've heard of Rivain, though never been there. The only portion of the north I haven seen are the Anderfels, and much of that was harsh desert or wasteland. While others my thrive in the heat, I wilt. And the sun is not kind to one of my coloring." While she's not exactly an albino, it's not hard to see how she would definitely be one of those people who never tan and always burn.

That last part gets her curious, as Garahel yawns and flops down, figuring that if he can't get food or attention, he'll at least take a nap. "Magic was but a thing of legend? What sort of magic?"

"It only snows high up in the north where I come from, and I never sailed that far from home, I had things to keep me busy but a friend came from there. They have ships with prows built specially to break the ice so they aren't entirely cut off since the snows come all year round." Enough that her father rarely ventures there unless he must, since too often it's too long a trip over the ice to and from his ship to make it in a day and back so he can sleep aboard his ship as is his custom. If she can't talk about this to anyone else, it can be a letter, tucked away amidst the stack of letters neatly hidden away in her and Korrin's room. Letters never to be sent anywhere but it does something to ease the guilt in her heart all the same.

"You know, I'm sure there was a salve people were working on in the Western Approach? I don't have to worry so much, but if you get a light loose scarf, you can wear it over much lighter clothing but protect your skin too. Avoiding the worst heat of the day helps; we sleep in the mid-afternoon where I come from, when the heat makes it too much to do anything." Honestly she's probably going to miss her afternoon naps keeping to a sleep schedule on this trip so sorry in advance if she gets grumbly. Doing all your sleeping at once, what a dumb idea.

How to explain a faith that's real when you carry it with you, when so long as you believe it's real but the things in books? Ah, those things, those are just stories people make up. She's quiet for a time, trying to find the right words. "Anything? Everything? No spells...but there is a country called Ebeos where they tell of a monster that would hunt you down if it knew your true name or face, and so it could only be defeated by twins who wore a mask shared a name, and the creature could not attack because it did not know the truth. In the streets magic is card tricks, breathing fire, pulling a thing from behind an ear but it's quick hands and flourish and distraction and reading a person.

"Not magic, not when you know how it works," she explains because there's a difference between the stories of Nerissa's home, the magic in a book, and the street performers who offer to dazzle with magic tricks. "But there are things in the sea you might say are magic, or the monster in Ebeos, or the Snow-Bear Maiden in Albas, tales from Corundus, ZImevur, Estene. Breathe life in a thing, even if you haven't seen it how can it not be real. A mermaid made the moon. That is real, I believe but-" Stopping there, she shrugs lightly as she can because it's real, it isn't faith when she knows it in her blood and bones the way an Andrastian knows their lady freed slaves before she was burned upon a pyre with a knife thrust through her heart but people are people. People don't always make sense.

Araceli's rambling is met with rapt attention from Inessa (even as Garahel starts to snore a little; she nudges him gently to get him to stop), who has read all the books she could ever find about the people of Thedas and their customs. So even without direct experience everywhere, there's still much she knows in an academic sense. And yet, what Araceli describes is like nothing she's heard before, not even Rivain or what scraps of information she could find on lands beyond Thedas. This is why she talks to rifters, beyond the face that they should be treated with every common decency. They have so many stories to share.

A smile curves her lips, her eyes glinting with curiosity and wonder. You may have roused a greater pest than the mabari, Araceli. "Now you've done it. Tales and insight into other lands are as valuable as any treasure, to me. I've learned the joys of seeing it all for myself as opposed to just reading about it in a book, but where I can't go, I still wish to learn all I can. The magic of your world doesn't have to fit my known definition to be what it is; it still fascinates, regardless.

It seems there's no escaping masks, in either world. Are they used as extensively and elaborately as in Orlais, in Ebeos? Are naming traditions changed because of this creature?" True names...she's only ever had the one she's made public. This monster would find her easy prey. But in another world, that thought is less unnerving than it is interesting.

"I've read about mermaids, though as far as I've heard and can tell in my travels, they are but beings of legend in Thedas. Even dragons, thought extinct, were confirmed beforehand. Even so, it's interesting to see common threads between worlds, however slight or distorted."

Nerissa will forgive her for talking about this. Nerissa who was so homesick she told Leandra and the queensguard her secrets, more than any other of the queensguard before her had shared. Everyone in Thedas has a whole world of stories - Araceli's home is more than just the sea, more than just Castileos.

"No one goes without a mask in Ebeos, only with the very closest of your family do you ever show your face." Continuing, since there's no harm in sharing when Inessa looks interested enough - Araceli can tell the difference between someone playing along to politely humour another. "People share a name. Say I was born there instead of Castileos, there would be an arrangement made so that I would have a 'twin' and we would share a name, one name, and we would be masked, and dress alike, and move alike, and none could tell but those we unmasked for, and even then they wouldn't know who was Araceli, and what was not-Araceli. Usually parents try to have children close together, or cousins are raised in a house. True twins? Those are special.

"Of course, like anything, there is a whole - game? Sport? - built around finding out true names." She doesn't bother to elaborate since they both know Orlais and they're on the road to Tevinter; this is what people will do, it's in the nature of so many to just find that out. To have it, to hold it over a person, to do something with it.

"What do they say about mermaids? Are they a terrible thing or not? Everything in Thedas has claws and teeth, or so it feels."

"I think it varies from region to region. Some say they tempt sailors and drown them, others that they do the opposite and save them. You're not wrong about Thedas, so I'm always inclined to believe the darker versions of tales, or at least the more nuanced. Rivain and Antiva probably have more stories to share on the subject; what I found in my tower and elsewhere in the south wasn't much at all."

Inessa shrugs apologetically, as one of her greatest delights is going on and on about something she'd found in a book. If they were discussing dragons or the Fade or the history of the Chantry, she'd be all set. But mermaids aren't a known quantity, either in reality or in legend.

"It would be fascinating to see the cultural exchange between Ebeos and Orlais, considering...though the Empire's bad habits have spread far enough, as it is." And it wouldn't just be the Orlesian Empire but the Chantry, since the Grand Cathedral is in Val Royeaux. "I can scarcely imagine what it's like to share a name, let alone have a 'twin'. It seems rather intimate...and lonely, all at once."

PLAYER PLOT: The Least of His Children

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