[open] Two Tevinter Mages Walk into Kirkwall

[thorndergod]

WHO: Thor and Loki of House Asgard, you!
WHAT: Joining the Inquisition
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Racism likely.

1. Open - In the Gallows

It's bright and early when two unknown men stroll into the Gallows, heads high. The taller, blonder one seems cheerful as he looks around.

"Grim and cold! We are truly in the south now. Which ones do you suppose are the... servants?" It's a narrow save.

"The ones with the pointed ears, as always," the dark haired man replies and settles his arms across his chest. He regards the courtyard with open distaste and his expression becomes one of resignation, after a beat. "Though we are in the south, so perhaps it is merely the poor that serve them. Their shoes should be sufficient indication."

"Shoes. Of course." The blond man starts peering at people's feet openly, making no effort to hide his scrutiny or lower his voice. "All of their shoes are poor, so perhaps all of these are servants. You there! Who is in charge? Who do two new allies need to speak with when joining?" He points at someone mostly at random.

2. Closed to Beleth

Beleth Ashara. It is an elfy name. Thor holds his misgivings close to his chest as he leads the way up the stairs as directed. Has the Inquisition already started its fall? What aid will they be in the fight against Corypheus and the Venatori if they've begun to falter? They are questions he'll ask his brother later. For now, he's approaching the open door of an office and knocking hard on it, breaking into a wide smile despite his assumption proving true.

"Greetings! I am Thor of House Asgard, this is my brother Loki, and we are here to join the Inquisition! I have papers of introduction from my father." With full confidence he holds them out. There is no way an elf could find fault or flaw in the words of Odin.

3. Open - In Hightown

Kirkwall is...tolerable, in the right light and in the right neighborhood. Where the docks and the lower levels of the city had been unbearably diverse and grimy, the finer neighborhoods are far less of both. Hightown is decorous, lovely, and well manicured. The air is clearer, the sun is brighter, and there many, many fewer of the lower classes meandering about. It isn't Tevinter but, overall, it's not a terrible place to spend a few months...or however long this whole situation takes to resolve.

It can't be terribly long, not once they've contributed their own talents to the cause.

"I imagine the view would be excellent if we can see that portion of the harbor," Loki comments and gestures down toward the sprawling ocean view beyond. It is mostly obscured by mansions. Mansions that Loki would like to own in the near future (ideally to demolish to construct a proper villa, but that was a plan for another day).

"What say you, brother, shall we purchase that one?" Loki asks and Thor, at his side. Thor, to his credit, takes a moment to peer at the house, to give it a proper amount of scrutiny, and then all but shouts:

"Yes! I like it! We shall take it!"

The owners, leaving their house and headed toward the market, seem utterly confused by the announcement.

--

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Comments

[hwaaaitsme]

"Strange," Loki comments offhandedly, taking the correction with such absolute stride that it doesn't even register as incendiary. He regards the elf who approaches them with some mild disdain which, fortunately, the man cannot see.

"Would you, kind ser, mind telling us where we might find them?" Loki asks, his own tone utterly divorced from his expression. He sounds polite, interested, and vaguely apologetic. He looks like precisely none of those things.

"I would rather not wander around and inconvenience facilities."

[thorndergod]

Shemlen. The little elf is deliberately trying to be offensive. Thor grins, wishing the blindfolded elf could see it. His grin widens further at the gap between his brother's tone and expression - this is absolutely entertaining.

"Facilities," he echoes with some delight. Such a pretty title for the ones who clean privies. Maybe he should suggest it to his father in the future. "How formal is the process of signing up?"

The Inquisition can hardly be choosers, he's fairly certain.

[faithlikeaseed]

If Myr gets the sense at all he's being made sport of, he doesn't show it; rather, leans casually on his staff, fingers laced together as he listens to one and then the other of the pair.

"I wouldn't mind," he replies gamely, "but that I don't know where they all might be this time of day. Your best bet would be to stop by their offices in the central tower and see if you might secure an appointment to with one of them."

Which is all strictly true, so far as it goes. They don't need to know that three-quarters of the leadership is collectively off their nut, nor that Beleth's alone in the wheelhouse (and she certainly doesn't deserve this pair delivered right into her lap with everything else she's got to do). "Which I don't think will take too long if you've your introductions in order, serah," this, to Thor.

[thorndergod]

The elf has now gone polite, and almost respectful. It means there will be less fun with him from Loki, likely, but Thor does not need his brother to continually be putting on a show.

"Are they truly that busy that there are appointments?" They're leading an army, basically, and a stationary one at that. He has worked with armies for much of his life and with four leaders one would think matters far less complicated.

"I have our letter and we will go up the tower and speak with them," he says decisively a moment later. "Shall we, brother?"

[hwaaaitsme]

Loki takes a deep breath, as though he means to answer Thor or interrupt him, but he decides not. He regards the elf before them with some lingering look, and then lets that breath out.

"We shall...make an attempt," Loki commits and there's a sound as he gestures toward the tower. "We are in order, at the very least."

He doesn't bother to say anything as banal as 'thank you' to the blind elf, but he does address him once more before he begins to walk. His expression is bored but his voice is still rather close to sincere, for him at least.

"And is there anywhere one might leave a message or messenger?"

[faithlikeaseed]

"Frequently."

Myr's tone is mild, a what else did you expect from a bureaucracy sort of thing. The further he's gotten from the Circle, the more he's finding things to remind him of what home used to be like. Though his attempt at a stall hasn't worked quite so well as it did back there--

Maybe not surprisingly.

"We've a rookery," he says to Loki, and follows with a description of its actual location that I can't find in the Setting page, I swear it was here. "Which you'll doubtless have privileges to if you do join us. What is it you plan to do here?"

He pauses a beat, considers, then adds, "You might do best asking after Scoutmaster Beleth Ashara." Loathe as he still is to do it, it's better than them walking in on Ser Coupe and her ceaseless humming, or Thranduil's pacing and fidgeting.

(Maker forbid they find Petra. That would be worth losing his temper at the bastards.)

[thorndergod]

Normally he wouldn't bother answering an elf's questions, but at least he's been a little helpful and given them a name.

"We plan to help defeat Corypheus and the Venatori threat," Thor says with great confidence. "And bring glory to our house from doing so." Another house has reportedly sent its heir to the Inquisition and they may gain some power from that. House Asgard sending heir and secondborn, if they're effective, will profit all the more.

"We will speak with the Scoutmaster." The name sounds elfy, but they're not in civilized lands here.