[OPEN] Some new guests in the Gallows.

[minrathousian]

WHO: Atticus Vedici, Benedict Quintus Artemaeus + OPEN
WHAT: A magister and his apprentice getting acquainted with their new digs.
WHEN: The beginning of Matrinalis.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Open to anyone, though especially to mage and templar characters

I. THE GALLOWS DUNGEON


Their accommodations leave much to be desired, but truth be told, their prison cells have better amenities than Atticus had been expecting.

There is a window, for example. It is a high window, barred and covered with magic-repulsing runes that prevent even the most determined and ingenious escape artist from making use of their abilities to make a break for freedom. There are wooden cots for sleeping, a blanket to ward off the chill, a basin with clean water in it for washing up--and a chamber pot, behind a small partition for privacy. (Atticus is unclear whose responsibility it will be to tend to that, but grimly, suspects he already knows.) Directly across from the door to his cell is the door to his apprentice's cell.

The door to the cells are steel bars, to allow for interrogation without the interrogator having to get too close to their subject. Atticus has already been subject to at least one round of rigorous questioning by Inquisition soldiers, but he is sure more are to come.

It is the middle of the afternoon, a few days after their arrival in Kirkwall and confinement in their cells. Having made an attempt at washing his face and hair, he stands with his back to the cell door and his eyes turned up towards the single window letting sunlight spill into his cell. He chafes the palm of one hand against the several day old stubble shadowing his jaw and the hollows of his cheeks.

It occurs to him, almost like an afterthought, that he's exhausted.



II. IN THE CORRIDORS


If Atticus Vedici and Benedict Quintus Artemaeus are to remain with the Inquisition and subside in relative comfort, then they are expected to make themselves useful in the process. Whether or not Benedict objects, Atticus does not.

And so, under a Templar guard and with their hands and feet bound with enchanted shackles, the pair of them are being led through the Gallows grounds en route to the Gallows' library, in order to perform (under duress), the research that will bring the Inquisition that much closer to gaining an edge over Corypheus and his Venatori forces.

[OOC:  If you don't feel like your characters would necessarily interact with two chained up Venatori mages under Templar guard but would still like to be involved, please feel free to post your characters' reaction, or interact with each other while witnessing this happen. w/e floats your boat really.]



III. THE GALLOWS LIBRARY


The work station that the Inquisitions' most senior enchanters and Templars have arranged for the two Venatori mages is located within the Gallows' library--but it is hardly situated in an area where a young apprentice or researcher could encounter either of them by random happenstance. In a converted cataloging room, Atticus and Benedict have been quite literally chained to their desks with a number of tomes, stacks of parchment, and other assorted tools laid out before them in order for them to perform their work. They have enough light to work by thanks to some light reaching them through an open window elsewhere in the library; the rest come from sconces and lanterns.

Atticus endures the dim lighting with aplomb, or appears to at any rate. After a length spell of silence--overseen by whomever has been (un)fortunate enough to chaperone them today--he makes a few final notes on a slip of parchment and passes it to Benedict across the table. "Cross-reference these with the notes we took yesterday," he instructs, his tone quiet and almost conversational. (His fingers, however, sport some suspicious bruising from where, the previous day, they had connected with Benedict's face.)


IV.  WILDCARD

(Surprise us!) 

Comments

Taking some liberties LMK if needs changin'

[fireandsmoke]

The Thing flickers and shimmers when Atticus speaks, its mirror surface rippling like a pulsing jellyfish. It takes a dive down to the work table, casting its tendrils above the workspace. Then it suddenly folds in on itself into a compact, first-sized ball. It takes a twirl around Atticus's head first, then Benedict's, and slowly, like it's simply allowing itself to be carried along an indiscernible breeze, glides to the pair of guards. There it remains for several minutes, hovering silently just over their heads as they mutter and chatter amongst themselves.

Until one of the guards turn. That's when it suddenly bursts in a fit of blue, heatless flames, and dissolves into nothing but the tiniest specks of spark.

At the same moment the wisp creature explodes, there is the sound of a heavy book clamping shut just beyond the confines of the prisoners' work-room and another spark of blue light flickering to the outer right of the exit. Sweeping footsteps approach, and a stranger, dressed from head to toe in rich fabrics and intricate embroidery, enters the room. Like a woman he saw earlier in the day, he simply brushes past the guards with only a glance of utter disbelief and disdain -- what use are they if they stop no one? -- and takes his seat across from the two prisoners.

Apparently someone has taken a frank interest in Atticus and Benedict, and he is certainly not shy about it. He sits up stiff and straight and pierces them both with a searing, shockingly aged gaze, calculating, examining as much as he can in their faces and bearing and shackles.

Re: Taking some liberties LMK if needs changin'

[minrathousian]

The guards are visibly on edge at the sight of the misty orb, shifting and exchanging anxious murmurs with each other, but they were given instructions to allow Inquisition members access to the prisoners for research purposes. Their main role is to ensure the magister and his apprentice don't do anything too suspicious.

Atticus, who had remained pensive and acutely interested in the orb as it cast about with its ethereal tentacles examining his work space, turns a similarly interested, pale-eyed gaze on the man who now sits across from him at the table. His expression is inscrutable, yet perhaps also slightly admiring; the barest smile is present at the corners of his mouth.

If Sarkan is waiting for him to speak, however, he'll be waiting for some time. Atticus remains silent, twisting his quill thoughtfully between his fingers.

[altusimperius]

Benedict's first inclination was to be worried, then intrigued. By now he's downright fascinated, regarding the newcomer with a curiosity that verges on hungry.
"Who are you?" he asks, breaking the silence first. Now this is impressive.

[fireandsmoke]

"From how people talk of you, I half-expected Tevinter to look more like demons than men," the stranger cuts in, brushing off Benedict's initial question. This man is the one calling the shots, here: not you fellows. "I should have known that was the result of nothing but idiot rumors and exaggerations."

Now he affords a glance to Benedict, a grimace of displeasure on his face. "I'm called The Dragon. That'll do."

Yes, he is being dead serious. The Dragon has thus far had consistent issues with Thedosians' difficulty to accept that it's possible to actually have a name like that.

[minrathousian]

"From how people talk of you, I half-expected Tevinter to look more like demons than men. I should have known that was the result of nothing but idiot rumors and exaggerations."

In reply, Atticus affords the Dragon a cordial smile. "We are the preferred monster in the fairytales of Southerners. As you can see," he adds, holding up his shackled wrists so as to illustrate his point, "we are but men." He doesn't bother to introduce himself or his young apprentice; either the Dragon does not care to know, or he already knows and similarly does not care.

He sits back some in his seat and removes his glasses, now that the mist sentinel is gone. "I assume you're here to make use of our knowledge. What can we assist you with?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict narrows his eyes at him, but would be lying if he pretended not to be impressed by the display of magic. He holds his tongue for the time being, with a furtive glance to Atticus.

[fireandsmoke]

"I'm not stupid enough to think you will choose to help me in the slightest."

Clearly, the Dragon is not a man that beats around the bush. He gazes first at Atticus, then at Benedict levelly.

"You are prisoners," he punctuates, as if pointing out something obvious to a toddler. "Ones that come from a culture of profligate magic, and which more than likely hold some eminently forbidden knowledge in these lands. But you're in shackles, and I've no intention of staging a jailbreak for you. I'm beyond aware that you don't have a reason to give me anything terribly useful."

Which is why he intends to divine useful knowledge through more implicit means. Like, for example, seeing if he could sense and feel for himself what kind of power they're capable of. Know Thy Enemy. Unfortunately, the magic-constraining shackles are doing quite a job of stymying whatever full potential these two have, so he can't even read that from them. The Dragon sours with a peevish frown.

"So instead, I've come to gawk at you like a gasping yokel." And decide for himself if they're worth the risk of a deeper probe. "Your presence here has done an impeccable job inconveniencing my studies for the day. Why are you here? Political prisoners or criminals?"

[minrathousian]

Atticus catches the furtive glance that Benedict sends his way, and gives his chin the slightest of nods; just enough to communicate to him that he is, inasmuch as he can be given their circumstances, in control of the situation. There is only so much that this strange man can do without inviting the animosity of the Inquisition down upon his own head. In many ways, his actions towards both Atticus and Benedict are as constrained as their own.

He doesn't interrupt as the Dragon says his piece, and ultimately smiles thinly. Well, what this stranger lacks in manners he makes up for with his blunt candor. Atticus can respect that.

"Why are you here? Political prisoners or criminals?"

"We are prisoners of your Inquisition, here to provide you with our knowledge of the Venatori and Corypheus to aid in their downfall." He delivers the line conversationally, without hesitation or displeasure, like doing this work causes him no crisis of conscience or discomfort. "In that respect, whether we wish to provide you knowledge is immaterial."

[altusimperius]

Though intimidated, Benedict tries not to show it when he meets the Dragon's eyes. There's curiosity to his own gaze, but he keeps a handle on it, at least clever enough to know that aggravating anyone wouldn't work out well for him.
"We'll be returning to Tevinter as soon as possible," he grumbles, still unsettled by how easily Atticus has taken to their current status.

in which I attempt to puzzle together info with limited knowledge

[fireandsmoke]

"Oh, you will, will you."

Well, that answered very little about his direct question, and the frown on the Dragon's face betrays his feelings about that.

"So you're expecting release in exchange for cooperation?" That question he directs at Benedict. "Supposedly, no one's fond of Corypheus or the Venatori, but who is to say that Tevinter will welcome you back with open arms after aiding us?"

The implication is that you may be stuck here longer than you wish, Benedict. Much longer. Atticus, however, seems completely unfazed by that prospect (and possible reality), and the Dragon resumes his close study of the elder man.

"If you aid us with anything valuable. Like a permanent solution to their messes. There's still all of the rifts and remaining Blight, which isn't likely to disappear when both the Venatori and Corypheus are taken down."

u done good fam <3

[minrathousian]

No, it doesn't appear that Atticus is much concerned about how to facilitate their return to Tevinter. It's possible that he's just playing his cards quite close to his chest regarding that subject, but it's equally possible that he has no intention of making his way back to the Imperium at all. Benedict's surly grumbling earns him a neutral glance from Atticus, who says nothing, and continues to say nothing until he feels the direct pressure of the Dragon's eyes and inquiries upon him again.

He takes a slow breath, then sighs it out again, and reaches up both shackled hands to remove his reading glasses. He holds them close to a nearby candle, as though inspecting them for flecks of dirt. "The Blight is a force of nature," he explains. "Corypheus is just a by-product of it, and of ancient Tevinter ambition gone awry. Ridding the world of him, and of the Venatori, won't rid us of the Blight." Pointedly, he doesn't touch on the rifts. Not yet.

[altusimperius]

Benedict seems about to say more, but goes conspicuously still when Atticus looks at him. Seeming to lose interest in the conversation entirely, he scowls down at his work, his gaze fixed.

[fireandsmoke]

Benedict's utter silence and complacence attracts more than a sidelong glance from the Dragon. That one; that's a rather subservient apprentice (unlike his own). He wonders how much this young man would be likely to spout when he is separated from his alpha male counterpart. He certainly makes an impression that he is not on the same page

"The Blight is a disease. Certainly there are ways to contain and diminish it." Hmph. "Even you may have extra tips to offer, blood magic defense tactics or whatnot. But that would demand more slave labor beyond information about the Venatori and Corypheus."

The Dragon straightens in his seat, stiff and regal. He says in a hard tone to Atticus, "You're not going back to the Tevinter Imperium, not anytime soon. Not even if you proved yourselves a waste of resources. I think any fool -- not in denial -- can judge that, from your current predicament. Were you going to let your second-hand in on this plan, or leave him stringing along obliviously with some false hope?"

[minrathousian]

This fellow is quite sharp, isn't he.

How annoying.

Atticus exhales thinly through his nose, squints at his glasses one more time, then puts them on again. He doesn't look at Benedict, regardless of whatever his apprentice may say in response to this supposition on the part of the Dragon... though one may get the impression that this foreign sorcerer has, as the saying goes, hit the nail on the head.

In perhaps the only sign of frustration he's outwardly demonstrated since his arrival, he drums his fingers on the tabletop four or five times before arrowing a cool look at the Dragon again. "Let me ask you," he begins again politely, though his tone is reminiscent of silk laid over steel, "what good you believe could come of informing my apprentice that he will likely never see his home again whilst we are already at the mercy of a hostile foreign power? What would--what will--this news do, beyond cause him distress?" Beyond inconveniencing Atticus.

Now he does spare a short glance Benedict's way, grimacing. ...Poor, stupid boy.

[altusimperius]

Being the son of two wealthy magisters who treat the people in their life like pawns on a chessboard, Benedict isn't new to being spoken about as though he's not in the room. It's never frightened him quite like this before, however, his prick of a mentor discussing so calmly with a total stranger his future of having no control, of possibly remaining a prisoner and never seeing Tevinter again. Through no fault of his own.
He meets Atticus' gaze, also furtively catching the Dragon's, leaning slightly away as if trying to distance himself from their toxic conversation. "I'm right here," he says, his tone more cautious than vitriolic.

[fireandsmoke]

"At best, it'll free him to think for himself," the Dragon shrugs back grimly. He lazily presses his chin into an upturned palm and continues, tone heavy with insinuation, "Perhaps encourage him to make the best of an undesirable situation, same as you." His eyes shift to Benedict. "That's up to you, apprentice-boy."

After all, cooperative and helpful prisoners may be privy to to privileges other prisoners do not receive. Unless these two are destined to stand trial for execution... or if they have another plan for escape, particularly if they know more about rifts than the Inquisition. Sarkan leaves it at that.

"Is this, here in the library, where you'll be doing your primary work? It would be nice to know how often I can expect interruptions in my own studies."

[minrathousian]

Any capacity Benedict had for independent thought, Atticus believes, was thoroughly flushed out of his system by half a decade spent languishing in indolent hedonism. He won't voice that thought aloud, and in a shocking turn of events that surprises literally no one, he ignores Benedict. Again.

"Is this, here in the library, where you'll be doing your primary work? It would be nice to know how often I can expect interruptions in my own studies."

"Well I imagine that choice isn't up to us, Ser Dragon." Atticus gifts him with a smile like silk that doesn't touch his cold eyes. "We are here at the direction of your Inquisition, after all. We work where we are told to work."

[altusimperius]

"Benedict," he icily corrects, "... and there's nothing to make the best of. We shouldn't even be here." A surreptitious glance at Atticus, which might read as the tiniest flinch.

[fireandsmoke]

"So it's busy work that put you here," the Dragon snorts. "Queer choice of punishment, when it seems much of the information we want is already in your heads."

This is all a lot of wasted time and resources -- not to mention a hell of a lot of showiness -- for a couple of prisoners to 'aid' the Inquisition's cause. If they really had valuable information for defeating the Venatori and Corypheus, one could just as easily pressure them in a sparse room until they gabbed. Why the grunt work?

These men are a mystery indeed. He supposes it wasn't a total waste of time to take a gander at them, himself, even though very little usefulness came of their talk.

The Dragon rises to his feet after a moment's contemplation.

"We'll wait and see if all of this numbs your brains enough to loosen your tongues. And if not..." Hmph and a shrug. "I'll hear about it either way."

It is clear to the Dragon that beyond the superficial, he won't be getting concrete information from them with just a simple chat. He'll have to utilize more underhanded tactics.

Which is why, on his way out, he whispers an indiscernible incantation into his palm and flicks a little mist-wisp over his shoulder, where it hovers harmlessly and almost invisibly over the shelves. Looks like Atticus and Benedict have a new 'friend.' Now, and whenever they happen to cross paths near enough for the Dragon to notice.