WHO: Herian, Nell + Guests WHAT: A meeting at the Chantry Archives. WHEN: Some time this month, handwavily. WHERE: Val Royeaux. NOTES: Will edit as appropriate.
The Sunburst Throne sits empty, but the Grand Cathedral never rests.
A vast expanse of sun-bleached stone houses the heart of the Southern Chantry, in all its sprawling bureaucracy. Flames light the altars day and night, maintained by unseen magic — though the subject of who casts those spells will go unremarked upon by their guide, a quiet sister of Skyhold's acquaintance.
It's dark when they're finally collected from the courtyard and into a pleasant little receiving room, spartan save for the impossibly expensive glasswork that spans its high window (a favour to Serault).
Junior Chancellor Pious is not, at first glance, deserving of his title: the man must be pushing fifty. His reputation is unremarkable, his tenure long — precisely the sort of faceless, efficient figure one might expect be sent to such a request. Records.
"Please, be comfortable." He's a voice for preaching, if not the sex. "Your letter was unexpected. There are those who believed the Inquisition had forgotten us."
Or their neighbours, now invading. His smile is broad and pleasant.
Edited 2018-08-12 13:00 (UTC)
MISSION IMPROBABLE | Group thread, no posting order, etc
The sister offers several — for all she continues to hold back her name, or her precise association with the Inquisition —
A servant's door, in the scattered maze of sleeping quarters. They just need to pick the right door, and avoid or convince the numerous Affirmed brothers and sisters between. The war in the North has seen some faithful return of the Capitol with refugees in tow. The confusion of new faces might be enough to smooth some ruffled feathers... but Chantry robes still come recommended.
A sweep of storerooms discontinued for use after mysterious flooding. It'll take some swimming — and plans to keep any papers dry — but they're unlikely to encounter guards or aquatic scholars along the way. The sister heavily implies that flooding may have to do with some remaining security measures.
A little rolly cart. Paperwork piles up even in the absence of a Divine. From records in scroll cases to the strange donations of nobility, every day several loads of material make their way in and out of the Archives. If a sufficiently heavy disguise could be found, they might be carried through the front door. The catch: The sister doesn't have access. This will almost certainly involve taking out whoever wheels them inside.
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DIPLOMACY ROADBLOCK | Group thread, no posting order, etc
The Sunburst Throne sits empty, but the Grand Cathedral never rests.
A vast expanse of sun-bleached stone houses the heart of the Southern Chantry, in all its sprawling bureaucracy. Flames light the altars day and night, maintained by unseen magic — though the subject of who casts those spells will go unremarked upon by their guide, a quiet sister of Skyhold's acquaintance.
It's dark when they're finally collected from the courtyard and into a pleasant little receiving room, spartan save for the impossibly expensive glasswork that spans its high window (a favour to Serault).
Junior Chancellor Pious is not, at first glance, deserving of his title: the man must be pushing fifty. His reputation is unremarkable, his tenure long — precisely the sort of faceless, efficient figure one might expect be sent to such a request. Records.
"Please, be comfortable." He's a voice for preaching, if not the sex. "Your letter was unexpected. There are those who believed the Inquisition had forgotten us."
Or their neighbours, now invading. His smile is broad and pleasant.
MISSION IMPROBABLE | Group thread, no posting order, etc
There's more than one way into the stacks.
The sister offers several — for all she continues to hold back her name, or her precise association with the Inquisition —
She's open to other suggestions.