Looting the Circle

[galvanising]

WHO: Kostos, Nell, others in Nevarra City
WHAT: An Inquisition team goes to collect anything useful out of the Nevarra City circle
WHEN: Around the middle of their stay in Nevarra City, pre-Necropolis
WHERE: Nevarra City Circle
NOTES: There's a closed log for a small group doing some targeted looting, and then also an open post for anyone who wants to take a peek around in between loading crates or taking inventory

Comments

[foundmyselfagain]

[ Both Nell and Kostos make their dislike of Simon known, in their own ways, and Nell hasn’t given him any signal to stop. It’s enough of encouragement for Gareth. So he smiles at Simon, but there’s no humor in it. ]

Well, I guess you’d better pray the Circles stay collapsed. Or things might get awkward when we all [ And by that, he means Myr. ] go back to being your charges. And you have to start treating us like mages, again. Might cut the friendship a bit short.

[ Despite the tension in the air—that Gareth is actively contributing to—when Teren comes by, he decides to obey the terrifying old woman with a knife, and hustles out of the way. With wide eyes, he watches the darts rain down where he’d been standing, then Teren disappearing into the shadows. ] Whoa. [ Nevarrans really do have to be creepy all the time. Amazing. ]

[galvanising]

Gareth. [ Not sharply, but there's a firm note in Nell's voice he ought to recognize. ] Enough.

[ She steps back at Teren's urging, brows furrowing--and then rising, as the trap is sprung. She flicks a more carefully appraising look at first, the door, and second, Teren. ] I heard rumors of booby traps. I hadn't believed them. Good catch.

[foundmyselfagain]

[ Nell's words succeed in reining in whatever other harsh words Gareth might have had. He closes his mouth, and quickly looks over at Nell, expression abashed as he nods. The line to not cross is so complicated, but he supposes that's why Nell is in charge. Certainly, she's better at seeing it than him.

Dutifully, he then turns to Simon, and ducks his head, apologetic--if a bit sullen. ]

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.

[exequy]

[ Kostos is looking at the darts on the floor, but he's listening, too, and looks up long enough not to miss when he puts a hand on Gareth's shoulder. Not uncalled for, in his personal totally unbiased and unpetty opinion, but Nell's still right—it's enough, because they need him.

He lets go, crouching down to pick up one of the darts by its blunt end to examine on the rest of the walk down the corridor and up a short flight of twisting stairs, until they come to a stop in front of a large door to the right.

Above it, MAKER OF THE WORLD, FORGIVE THEM is etched—a Templar door, waiting for a Templar to speak a password.

Kostos doesn't say anything to prompt Simon, just in case that would make him refuse. ]

[paladingus]

[In Simon's equally unbiased opinion, it is both uncalled-for and inappropriate, and his response is on the tip of his tongue--but it's probably for the best here that multiple factors converge to cut him off.

He's still blinking at the darts, a faint 'thank you' to the Warden on the tip of his tongue before that dies on his lips too, and when Gareth doesn't protest Nell's chastening, Simon lets it go. Better simply to mention it to Myr later. There's no sense in allowing it to distract.]

We're all of us a bit tense, for...obvious reasons. [He gestures vaguely the sprung booby trap, willing to pretend for the moment that those are somehow the most pressing reasons.] Let's just get on with it.

[He had rarely, in Kirkwall or Ansburg, been called upon to enter so heavily-guarded a room. This entire mission would have been far beyond his pay grade were the system and the Order still intact--but the procedure doesn't change a great deal from Circle to Circle, and he remembers it as well as he remembers anything.]

All right. I hope it doesn't want the password with a Nevarran accent. [He rests his hand flat on the door, calling to the lyrium in his blood, letting it command the magic inherent in the ward and bind it into submission--but it waits; he can feel it.]

They have lived too long in shadow without your light to guide them.

[exequy]

[ Kostos doesn't mouth the words along with him, because that seems sort of teamworky, and no. But he does nod his head with the rhythm of the phrase, then goes still when the door makes a shifting stone-on-stone sound and seems to loosen in its frame.

He'll leave thanking Simon to someone else. Anyone else.

He'll also leave entering the room first to someone else. It's the Knight-Commander's office: shelves, a desk, various locked chests, a few paintings and smaller statues, a now-dead indoor tree. Their specific goal is to go through the chests, the desk drawers. Maybe the shelves. Anywhere the keys needed for the remainder of the rooms might be hidden. ]

Don't break the chests. We won't know what's inside until they're open.

[foundmyselfagain]

Nice. [ Is that thanking Simon? It’s probably thanking Simon. Goal clear in front of them, and Gareth still carrying the impulsiveness that comes with his age, he saunters in through the door. A healthy dose of paranoia is mixed in as well, leading to him at least being wary as he makes rash decisions. ]

Poor tree. It never stood a chance. Join the fucking club, huh... [ That last bit is more murmured than anything else, and Gareth heads on over to the desk to begin promptly rifling through it. How does it feel to get your privacy invaded, Ser Knight-Commander??? ]