closed.

[propulsion]

WHO: Ellis, Lukas, Mhavos Dalat, Tony Stark Rhodes-Potts
WHAT: Do you remember finding those obscure drawn maps in Dragon Age: Inquisition of waterfalls and shit and getting very angry attempting to decipher them? Yeah.
WHEN: Harvestmere.
WHERE: On the way to and within the Planasene Forest.
NOTES: They anticipate at most three nights of camping, with some supplies to stretch that if somehow necessary, but likely no one wants to waste more time than that on this. Warnings TBA but probably not.

It's the bottom of the barrel as far as Riftwatch priorities are concerned, but eventually, someone has to check it off the list. It is a map and a report on its circumstances, found and compiled who knows how long ago, and by map and report-- the childish drawing of a mountainous range with arrows and circles and an X marking the spot, along with the barely legible half-assed note along with it, only barely count as either thing.

But here they are.

The map is not a bird's eye view depiction of rivers and roads and territories as expected of maps, but drawn from a ground-level perspective, presumably, and will likely only make any sense once they get there.

The report describes something about a researcher, Bernardo Kesoro, having taken a hermitage in the foothills of the Planasene Forest, and the map that was found on his unfortunate rotting corpse. It speculates as to the likelihood of valuables to be found at this location, and the frustration they personally had in attempting to decipher the map themselves before giving up. They suppose: rare texts, alchemy supplies, a cache of gold, or perhaps nothing at all.

Maybe someone will have better luck than they.

Maybe these are those someones.

Comments

[propulsion]

Ellis laughs at a thing Tony says. +5 approval.

"Sure. I mean, so is this place, just different. People born with the ability to do magic tricks but stand a coin flip's chance of turning into screaming rage demons isn't exactly a good time. And we only have one of those." In the tone of a sidenote; "Friend of mine."

[murderbaby]

"It's not quite that random-" What- "You befriended a demon?" What.

[propulsion]

"His name is Bruce," Tony says, bone-dry. It's either a joke or the kind of truth that is funny in itself and only to him. "And-- how not random are we talking? I assume no one becomes Abominations on purpose."

[murderbaby]

...tabling that for now. Mhavos nods. "Precisely. It's up to the individual and how they deal with temptation, fortitude, and so on. I admit, I only know what I've read; you'd have to speak with a mage for a real sense of it."

A moment of contemplation. "And any numbers you pulled would be irreconcilably biased, if not useless. Some circles have higher rates than others, and all rely on having a circle to pull from; a state of the world now rather outmoded."

[propulsion]

"Right. The places where naughty mages go. Or went. Hey, do you think they'll take it super personally if some asshole rifter quizzes them on how well they deal with the temptation to turn into terrifying affronts against nature?"

[murderbaby]

"All mages were sent to one. Regardless of..." Give him a second... "Behavior. And it probably would, but as you've not yet asked to touch my ears, I imagine you'll muddle along fine."

[propulsion]

"Sure, and all mages are naughty."

He read about it.

And Mhavos gets a glance sideways at the ears thing, an expression that communicates 'what did you just say' without actually saying it out loud, on account of Tony can figure that that sounds like a weird racism thing. He lets that one alone. "Thanks boss," he says, instead. "Take your word for it."

Now, he drops back a little out of pace to go about getting back onto his horse. That's enough break time, though he does make a face as soon as he gets one leg up over the saddle. "If I get set on magic fire it's on you," he adds, as he does so.