faderift | EVENT ↠ THE DRIFTING ROADS

Entry tags:

EVENT ↠ THE DRIFTING ROADS

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: A Crossroads Adventure
WHEN: Most of Cloudreach 9:46
WHERE: The Crossroads
NOTES: OOC post!

A team recently discovered a cluster of eluvians, one of which leads into the attic of an occupied home in Minrathous. This could be an extremely useful route if it can be made safely accessible, but that will require careful planning. In the meantime, Riftwatch needs to urgently explore the other eluvians in the cluster to ensure that none of them make the Minrathous route too dangerous to keep open (for instance, if another leads into the center of Val Royeaux or the royal palace in Cumberland, or anywhere else that a party of enemy combatants could quickly cause terrible trouble).

To that end, teams are assigned to explore and (as much as is possible in the Crossroads) map where the others lead and what the paths between them are like so that the danger/usefulness of each can be assessed. Because there are dozens and this needs to be done as quickly as possible, anyone with any time may be ordered to take on an exploration shift. Assignments will be given to small teams or pairs, but never to just one person alone. Some people may be assigned multiple shifts. (These assignments will be made IC, but OOC you're free to choose your own teams.)

The aim of this event is to focus on the Crossroads themselves, so the eluvians investigated will almost all lead to other eluvians and to islands of disconnected pieces of the Crossroads. It may be necessary to travel between and through several successive eluvians to different portions of the Crossroads to ensure there's no access to a vulnerable location.

The portions of the Crossroads teams will be exploring now will come with a variety of frustrating geographical hazards, any number of which your characters may encounter during their travels:

RECONCILIATION ROAD: One eluvian will be positioned in the distance on a narrow island of the Crossroads and reachable only by two paths that unfurl ahead of people as they walk and finally converge to reach the island. The paths will slowly angle toward one another if the people walking on each of them discuss a topic of disagreement, coming together to meet at the eluvian if the parties are reasonable and calm during the discussion and make some earnest effort to find common ground along the way. They won't have to wind up in perfect agreement to reach the end, but breaking into fighting or being stubborn or petty will result in the paths diverging instead of coming together. People who already agree about something won't be able to make it work—they'll have to find something to disagree about, even if it's just the best color of flower. A monument at the beginning will explain its purpose (using Veilfire writing that gives mental impressions, rather than requiring knowledge of ancient elven languages): the paths were designed to require people to calmly discuss their differences on their way to reach someone appointed to mediate disputes at the end, rather than allowing them to barge in shouting.
IMPULSE AVENUE: An area will be populated by spirits who will act out a form of people's repressed feelings/impulses on their behalf. That might mean a nonverbal wisp or a more distinct verbal spirit. So a wisp who is acting on behalf of Person A might shoot little icicles at Person B because Person A is annoyed with them, or a more substantial spirit might hit on Person B because Person A thinks they're cute, et cetera. The spirits won't volunteer to explain why they're doing this, but the verbal ones could identify Person A as the source of the desire if pressed on the subject, especially if Person A secretly wants it known.
INNER CHILD BOULEVARD: Teams may need to pass through a particularly twisty, shifting maze that's only passable with the guidance of spirits—specifically, spirits who, for some unknown reason connected to their original purpose when the Crossroads were a thoroughfare, present as ghostly forms of the people they're guiding as they were when they were children. They'll know that they're spirits and that their purpose is to guide people through the maze, not mistake themselves for "real" people, but they'll behave and speak in the manner of the child they're imitating while doing so. (Like all spirits, they rely on the information available to them from people, so if there's some significant difference between the way a person recalls themselves as a child vs. how they really were, the spirit will only be able to imitate what the person recalls.)
SUSPICION CIRCLE: A pack of fear spirits (specific breed: suspicion) has control of a dark, tunnel-y portion of the Crossroads. They're able to rearrange the paths to lead people in circles rather than allowing them to escape, all the while trying to stoke fear and drive wedges between people by whispering to them about any fears they may harbor (or that just seem reasonable) about their companions' motives, loyalty, etc. Resisting the fear will prevent the spirits from feeding and eventually make them unable to keep up with rearranging the paths, allowing people to escape. Otherwise, if people do give into fearing one another and thus feed them, they'll have to be fought or outsmarted some other way.

They may also encounter other minor hazards and irritations, such as:

SPIRITS OF VALOR: Bridges or paths may occasionally be occupied by these fierce spirits who will demand that any who wish to pass first best them in single combat. They can also sometimes be passed without a fight, if you manage to out-swagger them.
WILD GOOSE SPIRITS: Spirits that will lead anyone who follows them in pointless circles for as long as possible. They may appear offering assistance, claiming they know the way to the party's destination and can lead them to it, or claiming to have been sent by another group that needs their help urgently. On rare occasions the aid they seek will be real, just far too late--they may lead people to scenes of spirits falling to their deaths as paths crumble, crying out for help but unable to be saved.
MOOD WISPS: Characters may encounter clusters of small wisps that will follow them about and change color depending on the mood of the person they're hovering near. If that person's emotions are particularly extreme they may also hum a little, annoyingly, in a way that vaguely indicates the relevant feeling.
TRUTH PATHS: Paths that will fall away if you tell a lie. It doesn't require active truth-telling to cross, so you can be silent the whole time if you like, but if you lie about something while wandering the path will vanish ahead of you and will not reappear until you correct the lie. They aren't clearly marked.
PUZZLES EVERYWHERE: There are puzzles. They're everywhere, and they're frequently required to unlock an eluvian or make a pathway appear. Some of them might require people to play Ancient Elven Symbol Twister. Or Ancient Elven Symbol Hopscotch, if that's more your thing.

This project will be ongoing, in addition to characters' normal duties, until events TBA.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He sighs. "Yes, I gather." He saw the Veilfire script as plainly ("plainly") as Marcus did. In the abstract, he can even admire the elegance of the mechanism for forcing some level of diplomacy between parties before hearing a dispute. In the particular, though, he's not sure whether or not he's glad for the particular partner he's undertaking this effort alongside.

"So." He glances over as they continue along their respect paths. "Would you like to suggest a topic, or shall I?" It feels like threading a needle; he'll let Marcus have the first crack at if he wants it.

Marcus climbs. His staff is reholstered at his back, the weight of which should be unwieldy and awkward but doesn't affect his sense of gravity or balance thanks to sheer familiarity. If something were to go horribly wrong, he would prefer his hands free, and less chance of dropping his weapon into void. He keeps his eyes on the path ahead of him.

Which isn't to say his attention is not divided.

"Alright," he says.

But Marcus doesn't speak right away, given to unapologetic pauses to sort through his thoughts. There is some needle threading to consider, and some conversations he would rather have in settings different to this one. But then again--

"I've spent some time with what the Chantry calls apostates," he says, finally. "Perhaps even more time than I have with mages from other Circles. It always struck me as strange that in considering our collective futures, apostates are rarely paid attention. Perhaps they're seen as singularly selfish, at war for their own freedom. But I always thought, too, that the Circle mages who argue for their preferred systems of liberty are no different than that."

The path he is taking seems to veer off, and he glances back to Julius', to see if it's doing the same. There's little they can do about it, so Marcus climbs his way up onto this next landing.

"I wonder who they are fighting for, truly. I wonder the same of you."

The paths seem to diverge evenly, and Julius can't help a small frown. He'd idly hoped they might manage a short conversation; surely they can both discuss a disagreement in a civil manner when they were actively setting out to do so. (He supposes they're about to find out.)

After a moment, he says, "You're not the first one who's wondered that. But I think we're all arguing for our preferred system, by nature. We must all be shaped by our experiences, and if some of those experiences make us adjust our positions over time, it seems natural enough to me." A pause, then he adds, "You didn't make it a question. But if you wish me to treat it as one: I want a system in which mages have true security. Enough certainty of their future treatment to build, not simply spend all their time fighting for their survival."

"The purpose of the rebellion was not to stop fighting," Marcus says, as even as he says anything else. "Fighting is a freedom."

Step by step. Common ground feels far away, but he moves with a slow and relentless pace.

"My question, then, is are you speaking of peace for peace's sake?"

"You have a talent, to make peace sound so distasteful." It's an observation, more than a critique, but even so. "I don't object to fighting in principle, when it's necessary. But a future that is endless fighting... no, I don't think that's desirable. Or, more practically, tenable. Not every mage is suited for endless self-defense, as every mage in Southern Thedas now has occasion to know." The survivors.

He stops for a moment, mildly nonplussed by the curvature of the stairs ahead of him. But he presses on, physically and otherwise. "I don't disdain freedom. I would like to secure self-determination. But I also think it is disingenuous to pretend that we are just like everyone else, and I've heard enough mages essentially do so to make me wary of calls for freedom without a more detailed plan."

It -- this first comment -- has enough bite to it either way that Marcus almost smiles to himself.

Or maybe he does, no 'almost' necessary, but his focus is on the stone steps he is traversing and the words that come after. He glances Julius's way when he senses hesitation, studies the path the other man is on, then returns his focus to his own as he arrives at a landing, half crumbled with pieces drifting in void.

There is an inch of space between it and the stairs, showing only depthless grey, and Marcus steps over it before he is forced to think about it.

The silence that follows is as deliberate as all of Marcus's silences -- thoughtful, absorbing. He doesn't debate for the sake of rhetoric, and here, in all these endless void, much of that is cleaved away from his own language as he asks, simply;

"Are you angry, Enchanter?"

He does specify, once he resolves to pause and take a breath, leaning against his staff, "On their behalf. The mages of southern Thedas."

That gets Julius to glance over. "I have seen plenty of things worth being angry over in my life. The abuse of mages, surely, yes. But anger isn't the fuel I require. I don't blame those for whom it is, but that isn't..." He stops, glancing down at the path to be sure of his footing (or, perhaps to gather his thoughts).

When he speaks again, it's not clear whether or not this is always what he was going to say. "I am also angry when I hear mages brush off concerns about abominations as fearmongering when I can clearly remember scrubbing the blood of men and women I cared about out of the stones of Kinloch Hold. Even if Circles are not the answer, the problem isn't a fantasy made from whole cloth. Those who pretend otherwise insult the intelligence of those of us who can't make such pretense." It doesn't seem that he's angry now, exactly, but the frankness is more than he'd have offered under other circumstances.

"If we are to build something new, Senior Enchanter, I think we all need to be honest. With ourselves, as well as with potential allies. I did not stay out of the rebellion initially because I wasn't angry enough."

There is a sharper look, now, after full titles thrown his way, but it's not that he comments on. This last thing is likewise very tempting, but Marcus recognises: hardly the kind of thing he can be convinced about half-shouted over floating stone staircases.

Instead, he says, "The Circles created that. That simplicity.

"And I have often wondered after the likelihood of turning abomination being a product of that exact fear. If mages are raised to believe so full-heartedly that magic is monstrous and will make monsters of you, then what other outcome could there be than so many of them transforming into that thing? We are makers of the world, you know. Now--"

He does pause here, leaning on his staff, nodding to Julius. "I know well that tragedies like that happen on the outside, but apostates live too under that same impression. Aye, I know well that magic has its dangers, what it can do to those susceptible to those dangers, but a Harrowing occurs surrounded by men and women in suits of metal, standing on call with blades. Imagine an education among mages only, who have lived it, and without the Chantry's influence. Kind, patient, knowing. Perhaps we would see less monsters. It isn't dishonest to be hopeful about that."

"I do not deny that some abominations are borne from fear or desperation. I would gladly see fewer. We have passed a point where Circles can be reformed, and when precisely we passed it is an academic argument you and I can have over drinks one day, decades from now, if we both live to see mages in a freer arrangement." He truly does wish he could just keep moving, but it feels like a cheat, when Marcus has stopped. Instead, he pauses too, though he is looking toward their destination.

"...but Uldred was not a frightened child. And what happened to him was a tragedy for his victims, but to the extent he was susceptible, he wasn't pushed to it by templars. There are power-mad mages just as there are power-mad men of every sort. But not all men have the power to make the world, as you'd have it. If we're to watch our own, well and good. But we can't expect everyone to be saints when they're freed of the Chantry, just because of that freedom. I know I exaggerate... but not much, some of the rhetoric I've heard."

"We can't base our right to freedom on being a group of saints," Marcus says. "I know we aren't that. We ought not have to be."

But he is saying sort of the same thing that Julius is saying, if from a different angle. This statement comes after a pause, careful of treading respectfully around Julius's story. He says, "My view of the Circles is that of the Starkhaven Circle. And the Gallows, briefly. I know they all differ. I know that if we the Circles were to be reinstated, even after everything, even with careful negotiation, there would be a mage who suffers, somewhere. I know that."

And by the tone of his voice, the subtle stone-grind of latent anger, old pain, that is an unacceptable outcome.

"I suppose then that we have to all agree and believe that when we fight for freedom, it's to fight for the ability to solve our own problems, not to deny their existence."

Edited 2020-07-13 23:41 (UTC)

Quieter, "I should like nothing more. I confess, it often feels that every time I've raised the question of how we might approach those problems with my fellow mages, what others hear is that I think the problems can't be solved and we may as well not try, when in truth I mean precisely the opposite. I raise the difficult questions because I think it is important we face them head on."

They're agreeing. Sort of. He thinks.

"We also can't measure by 'no mage anywhere suffers.' I would like to measure by 'fewer mages suffer than before, and that suffering is less apt to be caused by the framework in which they live.' Still quite ambitious, I think, but more pragmatic even so."

Marcus moves to resume his walk, as if to test the likelihood of them advancing where they need to go.

"I would imagine," he says, with dry humour, which sounds like his normal voice, "regarding ending the suffering of mages, you know well what I'm talking about, and what I'm not talking about."

"And I imagine," Julius returns, "that if you thought I was dense enough not to have noticed any of the Circles caused suffering, you would have picked a different subject for us to disagree about." It wasn't as if Marcus gave the impression of being eager to spend time on people he perceived as stupid.

A pause, then: "Who did you think I was fighting for, before this conversation?" If he's been forced into frankness, he may as well make a virtue of necessity.

"Petrana."

Marcus doesn't look to Julius as he says it. Simply spoken, almost resigned. "Because you didn't fight. Not until the fighting occurred. And then you speak in moderation, even with allies, even behind closed doors, with no risk of being overheard. I don't think your intellect has anything to do with our conversation. I wish all of this were a matter of intellect."

He does look over, then, sharp. Evaluating. His first instinct isn't helpful in the current situation, so he sets it to one side. After a pause, he says, "Petrana is dear to me, and of course she has my ear, under the circumstances. But if I truly wished for pure self-preservation apart from her, we would never have met in the first place. No one found me. I could have stayed in Antiva and kept my head down. I came to the Inquisition on purpose, and I stayed with Riftwatch when it broke off on purpose."

A pause, and then: "I realize you may not value my approach. But to say that the only way to fight is to fight... I did not think that the way to secure a better life for my fellow mages was blasting through the Chantry with a staff like it's a line of advancing Darkspawn. I've been wrong about many things in my life, I freely admit, the fact I once hoped it wouldn't come to war doesn't mean I sat on my hands before it did. Trying something that fails is not the same as doing nothing."

"No," Marcus says, "it isn't."

Agreeing, in the tone of someone who speaks from experience. It would be easy to leave it at that, but he can tell, to a degree, that he's angled Julius into a defensive kind of position. It's a thing he does to people, sometimes, not all the time on purpose.

So he decides to talk, instead. Explain himself. "There was a fire in the Starkhaven Circle. It was started by a mage who would use the chaos of it to run. We'd talked, you know, a lot of us, about doing something like that. Wishes became promises, and promises became plans. But the danger was very great, then. When I was younger still, I'd managed to slip away and then willingly returned, and was punished greatly for it. I bore that in mind all the while.

"The fire gutted the tower. We could have run. The mage that did it, he ran. But the apprentices--"

He pauses. "They'd have followed me, if I ran too. I think we would have all died trying, and so I didn't, and I stayed. But I wonder what could have been. Because what was, was the Gallows."

Julius exhales. "I'm sorry. That can't have been an easy choice to make." Or, possibly, to live with. "I didn't always understand the insidiousness of the way Circles are mostly disconnected from one another. A transfer here or there, the occasional catastrophe. When I was younger, I thought it was a quarantine of sorts. But it meant it was very easy to imagine every Circle very much like one's own, once. It cut the legs out from potential reform just as cleanly as from potential revolt."

By the time mages were senior enough to regularly talk to others, they were the mages who'd survived and thrived in the system that existed. Of course it would be a conservative body; it could hardly be anything else.

He pauses, at another thought, but doesn't voice it. Instead, after a moment, he asks, "Do you think they'd have been better off, those apprentices? If you had died trying?"

Marcus has nothing to say, to this first point. His bleak agreement, not only of what makes the Circles terrible, but of the means of realisation, is of a silent and lightless kind. Yes, all of that.

Are the paths beginning to converge? He thinks they might be. He thinks that, even if it took forever, they inevitably would.

"It's possible," he says, very evenly. "Had we lived. I don't know that dying is a better alternative to suffering years spent in Circles, even the Gallows. Perhaps it's a better alternative to a lifetime, but I'd no intention to submit them to that regardless. I always believed we'd escape, eventually."

And then, tone warming a little from its neutral quiet; "It wasn't always easy, to believe it.

"I value your approach, Julius. I don't want a battle for the sake of battling -- I only mean that when the Inquisition took the rebellion beneath its wing, when there was a truce struck, it felt like a death of something. A truce with the Chantry could be the same, and peace to make us quiet would make all the noise for naught. Too many people fought and died, just for compromise. For something only a little better than what we had."

The quiet isn't of a man who has nothing to say, but of one truly absorbing what he's heard before responding. His attention, briefly, isn't really on the paths at all. "I can understand that. Truly, I can. And I will confess to you freely that I had hopes, before the Divine Election, for certain paths that are now lost. But I also hope you will believe me when I say that I don't see compromise as, in itself, a virtue. I see it as a tool for survival. Not so we can take something a little better and then stop; so if sometimes we are forced to take small steps, we can use them to secure larger ones later."

He suspects they were always going to need to have this conversation. He wouldn't have guessed this was how they'd get there.

"I didn't leave because I was afraid to fight. I left because it seemed clear to me that my fellow mages had no use for my perspective, under the circumstances. I didn't blame them for that. I don't. But I couldn't see room for my approach in the war. I'd like to think there's room for it now, but honestly, I'm not always certain."

Marcus doesn't know how much war the mages have left in them. They will inevitably be at the mercy of those who can make their cases for them. He could do worse than a veteran of the Fifth Blight, even one who called himself a Loyalist, once. They all could.

"Some of us wouldn't survive a total reintegration into the Chantry, and its Circles," he adds. His tone holds some irony in it, but he is also being serious. "Some of us will be executed first. That will be a point of contention, some day."

Good luck.

"But not soon. For everything the war with Corypheus has done to these lands, it's bought us time. And an opportunity to gather under banners."

"I'm not sure that I'd be exempt from execution just because I didn't fight in the war," he says, quieter but without self-pity. "I told Skyhold that they were making a tactical error in their handling of the cache of phylacteries, and they effectively told me to look in the Chantry's eye and say so. I did, and no matter how politely I said, I'm certain records were made."

He exhales. "At the same time. I think it is realistic to assume that the Chantry will exist, in the world, whatever comes next. If we're to survive at length, we will need a solution that lets it save face. Anything else isn't sustainable; even if we have an ally the Chantry fears enough not to attack right away, we'll always be a threat to them if we humiliate the institution outright."

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EVENT ↠ THE DRIFTING ROADS

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