faderift | MOD PLOT: SHOULD GLORY COME AT SUCH A PRICE, Part I

WHO: The Inquisition's Minrathous delegation
WHAT: A diplomatic visit to Tevinter's capital
WHEN: Mid Solace
WHERE: Minrathous, Tevinter
NOTES: Slavery cw. OOC post here.

I. SWEET DIGS

The Archon's palace is a vast complex at the northeast of the island, buildings of stark black and white stone drawn straight up out of the ground and shaped by magic alone. Ringed by a wall of the same, it is made up of the palace proper and dozens of outbuildings, stables, barracks, baths, gardens, and the like. The Inquisition delegation is housed in the guest quarters, a single long hall in one wing of the palace. They are not its only occupants: special emissaries from the Anderfels occupy several rooms at one end of the hall, and other visitors are scattered throughout—trade envoys, out-of-town courtiers, relatives and guests of the Archon. There is also a veritable army of staff, constantly fetching, carrying, cleaning. Skyhold will have sent stern reminders for the Division Heads to pass down to the rest of the party: assume you are being watched at all times and mind your tongue accordingly.

The areas of the palace open to foreign visitors are somewhat limited: aside from the Archon's personal apartments, several wings apparently house massive bureaucracy behind the throne, and guests are not permitted without an appointment and an escort. The library and hall of treasures are free to be wandered, though they are carefully guarded against theft or vandalism, and the gardens are lovely and imposing testaments to the wonders magic can wring from nature.

II. GUIDED TOUR

The delegation's first day in Minrathous is fully booked, beginning with a guided tour after breakfast. The tour focuses on the nicer parts of the city and is led by a friendly elven mage, Caeso, who works for the Archon—someone is trying to make a point, perhaps, about how high elves can rise, as long as they're the right sort.

Minrathous is ancient, and it shows, with not even the care and pride Tevinter has in its heritage able to stave off signs of wear. The buildings are enormous and dark, made largely out of black stone and metals, but they indicate a majestic history more than a majestic present. There are also signs of magic, everywhere. The foundations of many buildings seem to have been pulled up straight from the earth, rather than built on top of it, and towers and bridges that should have collapsed ages ago are permanently enchanted to defy gravity. While he doesn't take them inside any of the buildings, Caeso points out the Argent Spire, the headquarters of the Imperial Chantry and Divine; the Minrathous Circle, the oldest in Thedas; and the Ambassadoria, where dwarven ambassadors work underground to preserve their castes. Then he guides them through a colorful central market where they're able to have lunch around a fountain and enjoy open displays of magic and enchanted objects by street performers and merchants. He's happy to answer basic questions about the city and Tevinter in general, and after lunch provides everyone with maps that are, possibly, designed for tourists who aren't particularly trusted (or aren't believed to be particularly bright). They only show significant landmarks and the streets required to reach them from the palace.

III. FANCY PARTY

That afternoon, everyone is due back in time to dress up, fix their hair, fix other people's hair as needed, and sit down for dinner with the Archon—distant, at the end of the table, and quiet—as well as a number of members of the Magisterium and other notable figures, with an over-the-top sixteen course meal served by a quiet, respectful staff that may be slaves or may be servants. Afterwards, and after a break to allow a little bit of digestion, the entire group migrates to join even more guests for an evening of music, dancing, and mingling in a ballroom adorned with floating lights.

The locals will shy away from discussing anything too sensitive, like Corypheus' origins or Tevinter religion and politics, but they'll be happy to discuss history and to ask questions of the delegation. A southerner is as rare a sight for them here are a Tevinter is in the south.

IV. FREE TIME

Under the Archon's protection as long as they remain his guests, and despite what the maps they're given might suggest, the delegation has been given more or less free rein in the capital, with only sensitive areas of the palace, naval yards, and the Circle and Spire off-limits for casual visits. Minrathous is a city like any other: tightly-packed buildings, bustling streets, opulent theaters and rundown shops, markets selling vegetables and flowers and fabrics, cafés packed with students arguing politics or beleaguered bureaucrats taking tea, pristine gardens filled with elaborate topiary, or small squares of green tucked between buildings, flowering vines draped down their walls. Of course it's also like nothing they've ever seen further south: street performers here make common use of magic, not just breathing fire but shaping it into a flock of birds or a dragon in flight. Slave markets are kept to the outskirts of the city but those near the docklands are vast and busy. In the harbor, among the forest of masts of trading vessels from every corner of Thedas, sits the Imperial Navy, four ships always on guard at the broad mouth of the harbor, a reminder that this is a nation at war.

Outside of specific missions, everyone is free to wander the city and explore, though they are given strict instructions to stay out of trouble—no matter what. They are also asked to keep their eyes and ears open as they do, to mingle and talk with anyone who seems willing, and to keep watch for anything unique on sale in the markets. Rare books, unknown potions, unusual enchanted objects should all be purchased if spotted: this may be the Inquisition's only opportunity to get its hands on the wealth of magical and historical knowledge hoarded by Tevinter (and reimbursements will be offered, within reason).

Potential agents are another invaluable commodity, and the delegation is charged with taking note of anyone who seems sympathetic to the Inquisition's cause and bringing their names and information to the attention of the Scoutmaster and her aides. Those capable of carefully sussing out the depth of that interest are to do so, but given the delicacy of the situation everyone should proceed with the utmost caution, and under no circumstances is any non-member of the Inquisition—no matter how friendly—to be trusted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's weird being spotted by someone who's blindfolded. Of course, it's weird to even see someone who's blindfolded at all, especially here at a party. Her first thought, looking at him, is to wonder if something's going wrong, if he's in distress; after all, this is Tevinter, where people are apparently kidnapped into slavery. Especially elves. But his greeting is cheerful, and his hands are unbound, so either she's not interrupting a kidnapping or this guy is way too cheerful to get kidnapped. So then...?

Maybe it's something else? Kitty's been blindfolded before, herself. As part of their training in the Resistance, they'd go about blindfolded, learning how to navigate by touch and by sound, learning how to fight in the dark. But this is a weird bloody time to be training, isn't it, in the midst of a party.

Unless - oh. Oh. It must be some avant-garde fashion statement. The elf is dressed in rather plain robes himself. So it must be indicating that...that he can't even see all the effort others have put into their own clothes, and everything is just vanity that has no importance or relevance to someone who can't even see, that they're nothing to him...Right. That makes sense. And from the miserable look he's sporting, his look must have completely flopped.

"Yeah, a bit," she says, after the pause during which she deciphers his appearance. Her voice is a little quiet and a little embarrassed. "Erm - is there room in there for two?" He's clearly a mage, true, which makes her nervous - but he's an elf, too, so he can't be too dreadful, right?

Ah, Myr thinks into the silence of that pause, that wasn't it after all-- He's all set to hear whoever-it-is walk away again and leave him to his thoughts--but she doesn't, and that's weirdly heartening right now. Good to know he's not the only one.

"Absolutely, please--" He gestures in roughly her direction, beckoning. "I even think there's a chair or two in here, if you'd like to get off your feet." There is, in fact, a chair, pushed a little off-center toward the back of the nook (possibly by the action of a blind mage bumping right into it). "And while I've heard your voice before on the crystals I can't say I've a name to put to it; I'm Myr."

"Kitty," she replies. She steps uncertainly towards the chair indicated and sits. Her shoes are quite practical, so there's no pain to relieve, and she hasn't been dancing, so she's not tired; but sitting in a chair makes her a bit smaller and a bit less conspicuous, which she craves at the moment.

"So - " She hesitates a moment, then forges forward with asking, "What do you think of everything? Everything here." Since apparently he's Inquisition, rather than Tevinter - which is a relief, honestly. Yeah, she'd be doing her job with diplomacy better if she were engaging with a Tevinter mage, but honestly, she just doesn't want to.

“A pleasure, Kitty.” The words are warm, genuine. “Though the circumstances could be better.” And the rue there is earnest, too, underscored with a smile. He’d far rather get to know other members of the Inquisition on friendly territory—not one where every wall’s got ears, and all of those potentially hostile to their mission.

Which is what gives him pause before answering her question, weighing how much the unvarnished truth of his opinion might cost them all if the wrong person hears it. (That he’s GOT such an unvarnished opinion is plain in his face; despite though silence he looks—eager, and faintly melancholy, not at all offended.) Probably, the Archon’s people expect a certain amount of anti-Imperial sentiment out of the southerners; and just as probably they’re all supposed to pretend no such emotions exist, whatever justified cause there is for it.

Diplomacy. Myr gives a faint rueful huff at the thought; he’s no good at the grand variety of that, the sort that keeps the peace between nations, but you sure as hell learn to talk indirectly in the Circles. “I’ve heard that there are high dragons out there so stunningly beautiful you can’t help but stop and admire their terrifying majesty—the awesomeness of the Maker’s creation—even though you know they’ve killed scores of people and ruined entire villages. I imagine it’s a little like that, except someone’s decked the dragon in gold so you don’t notice she’s dying—or how bloody her fangs are.”

Still, perhaps, a little more direct than he ought to be. But it’s deniable, he thinks. That’s all they need.

"How have you found it?"

Edited 2018-07-23 00:03 (UTC)

Kitty takes a moment to consider her own words. She's not playing at being excessively diplomatic; she knows, after all, that her status as a girl and a rifter lets her wriggle out from some of the social expectations. She isn't naive enough to think that she can get away with anything, but nor is she naive enough to think that she's as constrained as one of the diplomatic heads here - or, hell, even as constrained as Myr. After all, freshness and ingenuousness can be used as tools no less than pretty words and subtlety. After all, no one guards their tongue as closely around a honest short-tempered commoner girl as they would around a master diplomat. And no one watches a plain-dressed thing as closely as they would a grand magister. It's not a deliberate manipulation, definitely: she's not Alexandrie. But she's quite conscious of the potential effects of being her honest self.

Well. Honest-ish.

"Upsetting," she answers. "It's a grand place, and a place of real wealth and beauty and power. So the fact that they're not doing a bloody thing to wipe away Corypheus - whose existence is a blight on their nation - it either means that they're weaker than I thought or more cowardly."

Upsetting gets a twitch of a different sort of smile--sardonic, almost--out of Myr. "One might, if one were being uncharitable, also wonder if they're not hedging their bets and waiting to see if the Inquisition's really worth the alliance. It's mostly made of southerners, after all." And the cultural divide was a wide one that the magisters viewed with varying degrees of contempt and condescension.

Well, right back at 'em.

"Though I'd not think so poorly of our hosts; the Archon's been gracious enough to welcome us into his home to show off all the wonders of the Imperium. And without so much artifice as I'd expect to conceal its--mm--workings from casual inspection." Slavery, he means. Slavery, and the way mages have the run of the place (though not in the way he'd expected, not at all, and that if nothing else tugs at him in a way he doesn't want to examine so closely).

MOD PLOT: SHOULD GLORY COME AT SUCH A PRICE, Part I

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i am so delighted by her introspection here

barking up the wrong tree something fierce

I love her

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