faderift | [ CLOSED ] Pass the cup in and around the nerve and spine

An informal meeting sounds perfectly fine to Korrin, who arrives more or less on time. As often as she's out on the field for various missions, there hasn't been much opportunity to just chat and catch up in a more casual setting with the council at large. Meetings, votes, sure, but she'd hardly call that relaxing. This is a little different and while Korrin doesn't expect politics to be left out of what is a political group, perhaps the atmosphere being less charged will allow for better communication.

Wine, brandy and finger foods go a long way towards putting her in the right mood and she'll soon have a glass of the former in hand. The finger foods aren't ignored, but it will take more than a few glasses of wine for the Vashoth to lose her sobriety. She'll indulge here and there but is really more interested in the company of her fellow mages and what they've been doing lately.

Edited 2016-09-20 14:38 (UTC)

They are not friends; it is not a revelation, Herian and Korrin could hardly be deemed politically compatible, and politics is all the bond they really have compelling them ti interact.

Even so, some matters are more pressing.

"Councillor Ataash." Quiet without sacrificing confidence or certainty. "I learned a little of your mission to Craintellier. How do you and your lady fare?"

It's true, the Council often doesn't have them on the same side of various issues, which Korrin doesn't apologize for or expect Herian to, either. Though the training grounds might be an common point of interaction outside those meetings, Korrin hasn't been there nearly as often lately. The reason for that already seems known to Herian, which in a way is something of a relief. She really has no desire to relive that nightmare step by step. So there's a small, strained smile as she responds.

"You're kind to ask. It's a slow recovery, both mental and physical. Magic doesn't heal Ruby's wolf bites. What those Venatori did...just when I didn't think I could possibly hate them more, they went and proved me wrong."

"They will be held accountable for all the wrongs done. No matter that divides us, people of the Inquisition will not tolerate such cruelty." Wanton disregard for life and its sanctity. It was such reasons that bade her despise the Dalish.

A moment of pause, and she draws a bottle from her belt, holding it out. The blass is tinted green, and inside rolls a golden hued oil.

"If it please you, I would be grateful that you pass this on to the Lady Bonaventura. We are not best acquainted, and I've no wish to intrude upon her recovery, but she showed me a kindness, once. In my experience, repairing oneself after events that tear at you so brutally..." She pauses, weighing her words before continuing, ever measured. "The mind requires aa much healing as the body. I hope this aids in that."

The bottle catches her immediate attention and her eyebrows raise. She hadn't known that Herian and Araceli even knew each other, but the unexpected gift is something that might do her kadan a world of good and that she can't ignore. Her expression softens and she manages a small smile. "Thank you. I'll see to it that Araceli has this as soon as this meeting is over. If it helps in even some small way, I'm grateful." Poor Araceli can use all the support and healing she can get, and it can't all come from Korrin, much as the latter would willingly do so.

"...I've heard that the Red Templars have been just as cruel, out in Fromage. I'd gladly join in paying those bastards back, too." Ever since she was in the initial scouting party for Emprise du Lion, Korrin hasn't been able to get the images of their influence out of her mind. The thought that they spread their filth elsewhere isn't surprising, but it's certainly motivation to act.

Herian's own smile is... barely there, barely something that could even be counted as a smile if you squinted, because Herian is not a terrible demonstrative person, any more. Once, she had been, but people change. It would be... a sorry thing, she thinks, to see once so kind and so bright as the Lady Bonaventura withdraw so. In Herian it had been an improvement. In others it would be a loss.

"Not near so fine as the hair oil she kindly bestowed upon me," Herian explains, releasing the bottle into Korrin's care, "but infused with lavender and rose. Both well suited to soothing the spirit."

A pause, then, to consider. It is not shocking to her that Councillor Ataash would address it, it simply requires a change in how she handles this interaction. It is not so dissimilar to being caught by broken glass; the window it belonged to is not at fault, but it stings all the same.

"I'd be glad of it," she says, very simply. All differences aside, she is not so self-absorbed as to put her own feelings before the good of their world and their cause.

"She is pretty serious about good hair care." That gets a small, fond smile from Korrin as she tucks away the bottle carefully. Not that Korrin treated her own hair badly before, but there was a marked improvement when Araceli paid attention to it regularly. Now, with her thumb as it is, Korrin manages as best she can with advice instead of direct application.

She nods solemnly, not prying for details beyond what she's already heard from others. That would be crass, and she has no intention of stirring up tension in what is supposed to be a relaxed gathering. "Two knight-enchanters on the battlefield--or three, if we could get Vivienne? There wouldn't be enough of them left to burn."

To her credit she does not scowl or tense or make any outward indication whatsoever of her displeasure that one who reviles Circles would claim herself a Knight-Enchanter. It is all internal, a recoiling, a mockery against things that she spent so long working for and goals that had been so cherished, and were all snatched away when the Spire fell, when the Divine was murdered. Herian's expression remains perfectly neutral.

"As you say," she says, very evenly. "The destruction would likely be considerable."

It is a simple fact, an observation. Fire blooms from her hands, magic hums in her veins, and Herian Amsel is a force of nature fit to destroy a good deal, when it suits her - as were all mages, in their way. "Though such as they would be worthy of little pity."

Edited 2016-09-25 09:23 (UTC)

A newer member of the Council, and one more inclined to guard her tongue than let it wag mindlessly. She is there early, word hung at her side, the hilt of her Spirit Blade on the opposite side. She stands, upright and proud, with an unwaveringly perfect posture that might better belong on a statue than a human being. Eyes forward, gaze steady, mouth disinclined to smiles. She is the very figure of a knight; steady, constant. She takes no wine, nods politely to her fellow councillors, and would sooner listen to opinions than offer her own, unless she is asked for them specifically.

For all her silence, she is not awkward when she speaks, though her voice is heavy with the tones and lilt of Starkhaven, and her words remain impressively even - verging on emotionless.

More recently, Herian went on a mission to Fromage where it was necessary to slay a child turned abomination and wade through corpses, acquired a staff after attending prior meetings without one, and has been spending more and more hours training with warrior and practicing her sword technique. Feel free to strike up a conversation, she has a lot of opinions.

Alternatively, it might be that some wine was in danger of spilling, and Herian deftly catches the glass before it teeters over and onto delicates robes and dresses or whatever attire is being worn. It isn't her glass - she doesn't drink. "A treacherous vessel to be sure," she offers, so dryly and evenly as to sound quite serious despite the humour laced behind it.

Raylan was told in advance that this wasn't a regular meeting, and the only way Adelaide had convinced him to come had been by promising him the good shit -- it wasn't that he didn't care about the mage council, but he was busy, despite all appearances to the contrary. Raylan had recently been called out on making a show of laziness and ignorance, allowing those around him to think he wasn't doing anything of consequence.

But he'd been promised the good brandy, so Raylan was there, sipping and lingering near the edge of the room, wishing there was a window he could be gazing out of contemplatively. Instead, he could only look at his fellow councillors, and, while they were beautiful, it came off a lot less 'enigmatic intellectual' and more 'creepy loner.'

That was probably for the best. Intellectual didn't fit with the image he was going for. Still would have been nice, though.

"Councillor Gibbs." Herian nods to him slightly, standing a little away as she offers him the slightest inclination of a bow, though no smile comes with it. She is not much for smiles, for better or worse.

She does not generally make a habit of approaching people without a specific reason or purpose, but they have not spoken since Fromage, and that feels negligent.

"I am glad to see you well. I wished to make my apologies for not having made time to speak with you since our return from Orlais. It hardly suits those who have worked together, let alone fellow councillors."

"My fault as much as yours, Councillor," he said, giving her the same small bow. He might not be fancy like most of his fellow councillors, but he'd picked up the basics of etiquette. "I imagine most of us who were on that trip have been trying not to think about it."

He hadn't really talked to anyone from the mission since the night they'd arrived back at Skyhold, and he didn't blame anyone for not seeking him out. He'd mostly been busy trying to drink the memory away, although it had been long enough now for the images to blur a little. He wasn't dreaming about it anymore, so that was nice.

A faint tug at the corner of her mouth, but only a very slight one. Whether it was destined to become frown or smile is up to personal interpretation. "Doubtless you are correct. I suspect, though, that it will be seared into our memories for some time. Better not easily forgot." To be able to press aside such a thing easily, to repress or forget it was a thought more chilling than most. To be capable of creating Red Templars and beginning such experiment.... surely no sane person could?

She considers, for a moment, before speaking. "I wanted to thank you. 'Twas no easy mission to endure, and I am grateful that I had other mages who believe in the good Circles can do in attendance." And all the others, it would not have been possible without them, but— solidarity is a rare thing, in her experience.

"Yes," Raylan agreed, nodding a little. "I wouldn't want anyone to take that as a reason to shun the circles, when it's the opposite." The people who'd done it may or may not have been mages, but plenty of the victims certainly were. Most likely including the boy. Maybe if there'd have been a circle to protect him, he wouldn't have ended up where he did.

"I'm glad you were there, too," he said, reaching out to rest a hand briefly on Herian's arm. "But let's talk about something happier. How is your work going?" Everyone on the council had their work, their projects.

Adelaide, at the very least, needs this. A bottle of brandy, a moment to remember that her peers are not put here simply to vex her- their differing points of view are what make their input valid, what makes the council a group that truly speaks for the mages of the Inquisition. The weighty question of Gaspard vs Celene is one best done informally. Moreover- with Ruby in the dungeons slowly sweating out whatever had been done to her? The newfound demands of training mages and possibly offering Rifters the same?

She isn't so obvious as to make away with a whole bottle of brandy, but she does keep it near at hand when she slumps in her chair. A new scar arced along her jaw from the fight shines pink where it's healed, skin under her eyes shadowed and bruised, the slope of her shoulders turned inward and exhausted. But she'll manage a thin smile and some good humor to any that approach.

Settling in next to her, Korrin likewise has her own scars to bear. A rather angry one graces that one arm at her wrist, which she tries to hide when visiting Ruby but otherwise doesn't bother. Adelaide's thin smile is met with one of her own, unable to hide the exhaustion in her eyes and frame. But she can't deny that she made it out of that disaster better than some, so there's no complaining on her end.

"If you want the rest of that bottle, go ahead. I'd say you've earned it."

"Don't drink it all," Benevenuta advises, taking a seat nearby with a small smile - if she sits closer to Korrin and if her smile is a touch less inclusive than it usually is, perhaps they will all be polite enough not to discuss it - and taking her own glass. "I am arranging a meeting between the two of you and Seeker Pentaghast."

She has considered whether or not it might be best to attend herself, as well. None of those three are top of her list for 'most tactful in conversation'.

Another reminder of something that must be done and ought to be pushed up on her priority list. Apple tart. It is an apology overdue by months but for the moment? She sets that discomfit aside. "One glass more at the most."

Even if the idea of meeting with Cassandra prompts a greater desire to drink. "Solas said she was to contact the Council regarding the Rifters."

It will be...interesting.

Korrin can't usually be counted on to be tactful, but she's weary and burdened enough with other thoughts. So, whatever's going on between the two can stay between them, as far as she's concerned. Mention of Cassandra prompts a heavy sigh from Korrin, who used to favor the advisor but her opinion has since gone way downhill.

"Wonderful. Dealing with the woman who treated my kadan so poorly always brightens my day. But fine, if they're getting worked up about Rifters again, I want to be there." She can manage to remain civil, for the sake of Araceli and the others who haven't done anything wrong. Obi-Wan may be their liaison, but she can try to offer some protection as well.

Rifters, is it. Benevenuta's expression turns somewhat appraising, given the context that Cassandra had given her - she studies Korrin for a moment, but it doesn't seem directed to any particular purpose than 'Korrin is next to her while her face is happening'.

And if this is about rifters and Korrin is one of their experts, she absolutely -

"I think I might join you," she says, smoothly. "The Seeker is interested in our progress with fade training the young ones. Our harrowing alternative." And the picture that puts together is a very interesting one. One that might go perfectly well, if she leaves them to their own devices -

but Cassandra and Korrin are both volatile, and Korrin has a decidedly personal stake in the matter. Adelaide, she thinks, is ... tactless but not troublemaking, but it might be asking a bit much of her to wrangle the other two alone.

"If my presence would not be trouble. I haven't taken point there as you have."

Ah thank the Maker. At last an informal meeting with the opportunity to catch up with the remainder of the Council and see what they have been up to. Since taking on the task of being the Mage Liaison, in addition to all her other tasks, Vivienne has remained swamped most days. This is a marvelous excuse to block off time and yet not be hard pressed to get things done. It is a matter of balance.

The nibbles are appreciated, though not too many; Madame de Fer still has a figure to maintain. A glass of wine, however, remains firmly in her hand. It is being slowly savored, followed by another, though never enough to send her spiraling towards the lands of tipsy. Some days she wishes she could have the luxury of getting roaring drunk, but knows better than that.

Best of all, this affords her a chance to get to know the newest members of the Mage Council. Their Dalish members have quit, something she actually finds distasteful. There are very few Dalish she's met that aren't angry and aggressive. However, leaving irritates her as a sign of giving up. It also throws a small wrench in her private planning of how to bring all mages back into the fold, under wise and orderly guidance. Eventually.

Regardless of her less than pleased thoughts on their previous members, Vivienne actively takes the time to seek out each member in their turn to inquire after their work and well-being.

Upon spotting Vivienne approaching, Korrin turns and nods to her. Whatever their political differences -and there are many- she nonetheless has respect for the woman's dedication and discipline. In that, at least, she would see as something for younger mages to emulate. As tall and proud as ever, Korrin herself as seen better days. There are dark circles under her eyes and an angry-looking scar on the wrist of her staff-hand that has yet to heal. She doesn't hide it, but nor does she draw attention to it, either.

"Councillor Vivienne. How is the work of our mage liaison going these days?"

"Dreadfully busy, I fear. Though I am encouraged by the feeling of united purpose keeping most troublemakers in check."

Her eyes flit down to that new, searing scar of Korrin's, and then up to the dark circles under her eyes. A distinct frown settles over her face. Whatever their ideological differences, Vivienne remains both interested and concerned for her student's welfare. Both as one who has studied under her directly, as as a mage. It is, part of the work, but also personal.

She's not going to pussyfoot around her opinion, though the statement comes laced with a tone of concern. "My dear, you look positively dreadful. You must tell me what I can do to help you."

Glancing to her forearm, which upon closer inspection are canine bite marks, Korrin for once considers her words before she speaks. For once, she doesn't have a quick answers.

"This...it's nothing that magic can fix, but I've gone to the healer's tent and it doesn't hurt now. I'm fine, but those the Venatori took are worse off and still recovering." She's sure Vivienne must have heard about that by now; how a group of shardbearers went missing and a group was sent after them, about the experiments conducted on them as well. It makes her eyes glint angrily just thinking about it.

"I know you have stuff to do here, but if you get the chance to head out, I'd appreciate seeing you take more of them down. They're going to keep targeting people with shards, and I'd love to show them how terrible an idea it is to mess with people under the Inquisition's protection."

Maker... for Korrin to take her time considering before she speaks, or blows up, speaks volumes. Vivienne's concern radar ratchets up higher immediately. Even if she doesn't tip that hand, and she won't, it's still quite there. The Qunari's been rattled, and badly.

A slow nod, and an even slower fragment of a smile, is her reply. "Believe me, darling, nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to wholly remove the Venatori threat from the face of Thedas." Actually, she'd just as soon see the majority of Tevinter dismantled, but that is neither here nor there at the moment. "The first opportunity which presents itself, we shall head out together. But only once I'm confident you've fully healed."

Frankly, the whole of the Inquisition seems to be taking a battering, from without and sometimes from within. Most of them (not the Iron Lady, naturally), are showing signs of weariness and battle damages. War can be such an ugly business.

Knowing that the shardbearers were targetted is no consolation and poses nearly an army's worth of new questions and problems demanding answers and resolutions. "I understand your young lady was among those taken. How is she faring?"

That answer is just what Korrin has hoped for and some of the tension leaves her, glad that there will be one more knight-enchanter to tear the Venatori to ribbons. If they're fortunate, maybe they can even find that incompetent trio that were spared against her objections. She has no doubt that what happened hasn't turned them from their foul path. "She's just as bad at being a patient as I ever am, honestly. Being made to stay still when she could normally climb everywhere? It's a lot to handle. I pity the healers, though I'm hoping to take her off their hands soon or at least manage some kind of home-visit schedule. Familarity and privacy will do wonders.

...Ruby had it the worst, though. They messed her up to the point of her attacking us; lyrium-poisoning. The others had it too, but her recovery's bound to take longer." Given how dear freedom is to Korrin, yeah, the thought of subverting her friend's will is the worst of outcomes. She doesn't doubt Ruby's going be scarred for a long time and if Araceli was well, no doubt they'd be finding every Venatori they could to rid the world of them.

Lyrium poisoning. Vivienne doesn't wince on the outside but she feels it regardless. Rather the the curled lip of disgust manifests, and who can blame her? Those Venatori are beyond monstrous. She shares Korrin's displeasure at anyone having their own personal will hijacked. The moment she passed her Harrowing as an apprentice, she vowed on the spot that no one would ever control her again. The very notion that these Tevinter extremists can, and would, do such a thing fills her with a loathing and fear that transcends words.

A thorough thrashing is due them.

"Somehow, finding that you both make poor patients does not surprise me in the least." Vivienne's only had passing encounters with the outsider, and is reserving judgement on the woman in question, as she almost never trusts anyone or their motives. But she did get the sense of impatiences from her and to have it confirmed is no surprise. "I confess, I am not entirely familiar with all of our members from beyond the Fade, but I find the abuse inflicted on them positively repugnant. I presume there was some information they were attempting to extract from them?"

Korrin nods, crossing her arms. "They were experimented on with lyrium to study the effects on the shard, more or less. We don't know about the long-term effects it would have had, since--well, we killed them. But it has me believing that they'll attempt to ambush rift sites in hopes of getting some of their very own rifters without our interference. And Solas has been helpful in determining locations, but he's not all-knowing. They might already have other rifters, in other locations."

And if they do, they need to be found and freed, no question.

Solas being useful. What a novel concept.

"I'm inclined to agree. They are nothing if not persistent, and I doubt they will allow one rescue to put them off from attempting further abductions." Which is a wholly disturbing thought. "It does make one wonder how many might have been taken without our knowledge."

Not that Vivienne is trying to be negative but it is a case of practicality to consider any and all possible moves, in this or the Game. Now she's inclined to talk out all potential angles of possibility. "There are two likely possibilities. The first is that they have been taking rifters without our knowledge and taking members under the Inquisition protection was a method of making a strike against us. The other is that they have not taken others, and went to the only known source which to gather their subjects for experimentation."

What goes unsaid is just how wretched both options are.

Which demands a drink, which Vivienne pours out for both of them. Clearly relaxation is not on the docket for the evening.

"It is a pity they were killed before we could acquire what information they had. Not that they didn't deserve it, but who knows what they learned and passed on, circulating outside our reach in the enemy's hands."

Korrin is absolutely not going to say no to a drink right now and she takes one with a grateful nod. Given her size, it might not do that much to take the edge off, but she'll give it a chance. She listens without interruption while taking that first sip.

"Not all of them will killed. There was a trio we pumped for information, though they fell firmly into the 'incompetent idiots' category. The ringleader was full of more zeal than common sense, and the others weren't long on bravery. Tevinter's best and brightest, hm? I have doubts they were told anything truly vital, though. They seemed more like tagalong younger siblings made to stand guard while the cool kids got to have the real fun."

[ CLOSED ] Pass the cup in and around the nerve and spine

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