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[PLAYER PLOT] THIS WEATHERED HEART
WHO: A Lotta Folks
WHAT: Preventing a Venatori plot on a distant island; everything goes a-okay.
WHEN: Mid Kingsway
WHERE: Nascere, an island off the coast of Seheron
NOTES: OOC information and plotting post HERE. Ty to cass and mj's nevarra city log structure which I shamelessly ripped off.
WHAT: Preventing a Venatori plot on a distant island; everything goes a-okay.
WHEN: Mid Kingsway
WHERE: Nascere, an island off the coast of Seheron
NOTES: OOC information and plotting post HERE. Ty to cass and mj's nevarra city log structure which I shamelessly ripped off.
ARRIVAL.
Accommodations are tight on the single ship which leaves Kirkwall, but spirits—of the crew, at least—are surprisingly high given what is likely to be unpleasant work ahead. In true Waking Sea fashion however, the weather turns just as the Walrus enters the straight between Ostwick and Brandel's Reach. A number of days are spent at the mercy of viciously inhospitable weather, shouting over screaming wind and struggling the length of slanting decks, as the ship beats its way East to smoother seas. On the plus side, the days which follow allow plenty of time to repair anything carried away or damaged by the storms. 'Better now than when we're trying to land,' seems to be the general opinion of the seasoned sailors aboard.
When the Walrus passes into its native latitudes, great care is taken to avoid all sight of the coast until they can skirt in under the cover of darkness. So what at last rises up from the horizon in the night is not an island but a shadow. The lightless shape rising against the canvas of the night sky consists of some mountain range rendered featureless by the dark, jungle cliff sides, and just the faintest line of foaming bio-luminescent waters against a narrow strip of beach. The landing itself is uneventful - a series of longboats run them to shore, then return to the Walrus with a skeleton crew fit to see the ship smuggled back over the horizon.
Now effectively stranded, Riftwatch (and their half a crew of pirates) make their way through the hilly jungle terrain and eventually into the valley beyond where the vegetation and twisting paths occasionally give way to signs of agricultural life—groves of macadamia trees and broad swathes of sugar cane—and the faintest flickers of light from distant plantation houses. Their destination is a small farm cut into one of the red foothills. From its overgrown state, it's clearly been abandoned for some time. The farmhouse is beginning to grow dilapidated from lack of care, and its interior has been cleared to accommodate both Riftwatch and the small force of about twenty insurgents—a strange combination of escaped enslaved and pirates-turned-revolutionaries, and evidently just one of a series of rebel cells in hiding throughout the island's interior—they meet there.
DAY.
With some expectation that it will be a few days before they mount their assault on the rift and the underground ruin, the first day on Nascere is meant to simply be an opportunity to familiarize themselves with the current conditions on the island. The bulk of Riftwatch's force is either to stay put on the farm away from prying eyes, or may accompany one or two rebel scouts to coordinate with other cells scattered across the island so long as they can move quickly, quietly, and avoid detection. Specifically, two groups have been tasked to gather information in Nascere Town proper—particularly any news relating to the whereabouts of the missing half of the insurgency which disappeared when the rebel force was successfully broken by the ruling force in residence—, and to explore as much of the network of caves leading to the ruin as is possible while avoiding detection.
LOCAL GOSSIP - Athessa, Byerly, Isaac, & Vanadi
Seemingly carved out of the living rock overlooking the harbor below, Nascere Town is a visage in relief upon a steep hill, its deep contours cast in a harsh light by the rift fixed high above it at the hill's summit. The buildings at the base are built on stilts, with stairs or ladders leading up to the entrances. As the elevation rises, the buildings fall until they are all level with the dirt road that cuts through them.
Residences and shops line the road on either side, and what seems to be otherwise shockingly normal commerce is slowed by the purposeful momentum of a few Venatori gathering supplies and taking them somewhere. The warehouse near the lowest point of town is supplying wagons with tools and rope and chains and the like, the supplies needed to imprison rather than to build. A handful of Tevene-aligned foot soldiers not at work can also be found enjoying drinks or a meal at the tavern or enjoying intimate company at the brothel across the street. The center of operations seems to be the old Chantry—built as counterpoint to the Qun fort overlooking the bay when the Imperium took control of the island, converted into a public market during the pirate possession of the island, and then reverted back to its former religious significance upon the Governor's takeover—, overlooking the town and back lit by a verdant veilfire sun. It's where the ranks sleep, and plan, and where it's rumored a few people have never returned from.
That is a story that can be from a number of different people in town. Some folks just vanish, and it's chalked up to the guerrillas in the surrounding jungle, the pirate resistance, sometimes even the Governor's men. But sometimes they're seen being led to that holy spire, and what else are they supposed to think when it's Venatori taking them there?
It's too risky to approach the Chantry itself, but it's clear enough by the commotion in the streets that there isn't any time to waste. This is confirmed by the nervous and surprisingly competent gentleman named Mr. Featherstone who meets them in the tavern's back room. He unfortunately doesn't know much about the missing half of the rebel militia; all he can offer is a few rumors that they've been smuggling people off the island, which could explain some of the fighting still happening in the jungle, or perhaps that they scarpered entirely when the resistance fell. Most on Nascere have taken to believing them dead.
The most important information Featherstone has to share is that whatever the Venatori are planning to do will be happening tonight.
UNDERGROUND EXPLORATION - Caius, Dorian, Gwenaëlle, Leander, & Madi
At first, the passages are simply dirt walls, roots and moss, but slowly, they give way to stone. It would be easy to get lost in these caverns, if no one was paying attention. The passages branch, though some open into single-roomed chambers and others have collapsed or been overgrown by plant life. But upon close inspection, it's clear which routes have seen regular foot traffic, and Madi has some knowledge of the route, enough to quell doubt upon reaching forked passages, though it's inevitable to take a few wrong turns and come across closed chambers or mark light ahead where tunnels curve back towards the surface into the jungle. The walls bear runes and other markings, some appearing to be simple directions while others are historical and instructional in design. Luckily, there are plenty of small crevasses to wedge tunnel markers, ensuring a return to this route won't require as much trial and error.
Eventually, the echo of voices prompts the dousing of torches while guiding forward travel. The tunnels give way to a large, vaulted chamber. Debris has been moved to the edges to reveal looping, intricate runes set into the floor. A single shaft of light illuminates the dark-smeared altar in the middle of the room. A number of Venatori are in attendance, clearly hard at work in preparation for something. Torches have been lit, and the glow reveals a set of cages along the far wall, ceremonial robes, a table of sharp implements reverently arranged.
Walking further into the chamber is too much of a gamble. Every time it looks as if the room will empty out entirely, a few more Venatori reappear. But it is possible to eavesdrop on the conversations as Venatori come and go through several other entryways. The discussions reveal that the Venatori have used regularly visited this chamber to perform rituals, as well as that they are confident in having finally crafted the exact sequence of events that unlocks⸺
Something? It's hard to say, because the Venatori never refer to the outcome in anything but vague, glowing excitement. But it is safe to assume that the outcome of the upcoming ritual is probably very bad. Judging by some of their conversation and the layout of the ruin's modifications, Caius (and potentially a few other nerds present) will be able to calculate that the fallout from a spell like this has the potential for some serious collateral damage if left unchecked, enough so that the town above proper might be endangered by it. Luckily, it's possible to back out of this cavern and backtrack towards the town to pass along this information without attracting any attention from the Venatori prepping the ritual space.
NIGHT.
Time being a luxury evidently in short supply, efforts to coordinate and strategize promptly take on new urgency. While the bulk of the effort is dedicated to rallying forces and preparing to move out, two teams are sent to alert select local contacts to the destructive potential of the runes under the island and to fetch a secret cache of gaatlok buried on the island.
SACRIFICIAL LAMBS - Barrow, Lukas, Ilias, & Silver
With the warning that the town could be turned into collateral damage, a more tangible threat than several years of guerrilla warfare, evacuating the town to safer ground is the only logical thing to do. John has an idea of who should be told first, which brothel, which tavern, which spaces in the town square and market they'll need to visit to make sure the alarm they're sounding carries swiftly and effectively.
However, they make it as far as the town square before it becomes clear something's amiss. More amiss than usual.
The town is crawling with Venatori. The streets are full of people trying to scramble into hiding or being dragged from their homes or from behind the market stalls. The gallows, always an ominous sight, are eclipsed by a barred cart into which people are being shoved, or thrown. Even in all the chaos and rising level of hysteria from the townspeople as they try to avoid capture, it quickly becomes obvious that the Venatori aren't rounding people up for a night in the pokey.
Knowing what's scheduled to occur at the ruins, it's safe to assume the people being thrown into carts haven't been volunteered to act as moral support so much as they're intended to provide the required blood component.
Stealth is paramount; it's crucial to keep the Venatori from realizing any opposition beyond the pirate rebellion has arrived on the island. That being said, the Venatori also can't be allowed to haul a cart full of potential blood sacrifices down to the ruins. Therefore the task becomes: either find a way to release the victims and prevent the Venatori from collecting more without being seen, or make sure no Venatori are able to raise the alarm if there's no way to proceed stealthily.
TREASURE HUNT - Edgard, Darras, Derrica, & Flint
Armed with Flint's knowledge of where the cache of gaatlok is buried, it seems an easy enough task to locate and unbury it. Or it would be, if there weren't an enemy patrol in the nearby vicinity (likely motivated by the burial site's proximity to a now abandoned rebel encampment). That discovery is brought about by one of the enemy scouts straying too far from a familiar path and snagging his boot on an old trip-wire. His impact with the trap makes enough noise to call over two others, and to cover the sounds of a retreat into cover.
The Venatori can't be allowed to discover the gaatlok, and the risk of an alarm being sounded is too high to get away with being spotted. They'll have to be scared off or eliminated. Anyone who cares to eavesdrop a little can discover that the Venatori are already spooked, thanks to the Veil being so thin on the island. There have been ever increasing reports of wraiths, shades, and even ghosts manifesting on the jungle. Some have even heard the sounds of wailing loved ones or the voice of the Maker himself whispering on the breeze.
RIFT & RUIN.
With some sense of what they're up against and a gaatlok cache shaped ace up their sleeves, Riftwatch and their allies are divided into two forces. One party is to take the foothills just north of Nascere Town where the burning rift demands closure. They've been instructed to value speed over subtlety; with the bulk of the Venatori force preparing to make their way into the underground, they'll need to draw some of their number back to the hilltop if the team handling the ruins is to have any chance at scuttling the magic being performed there. The other group is to spirit the gaatlok underground and disrupt the ritual by destroying key segments of the temple's sprawling adapted runework.
THE RIFT
When viewed by night, the rift which sits at the crest of the hill overlooking Nascere Town is naseauting in its brilliance. Likely it has grown slowly in magnitude and any change has been so gradual that the locals can hardly recall what it looked like to begin with; but to anyone familiar with what a Rift should be, the danger is indicative in the sheer span of the grim aurora spilling over the hilltop. The rift hasn't torn itself open yet, but yet seems to be the operative word.
Immediate resistance is relatively light, consisting of a few Venatori mages and shockingly ill-equipped foot soldiers. Unfortunately, reinforcements from the town below will quickly answer and it will briefly appear likely that the bid for the rift will fail. However the closer they get to the rift, the more disorienting and serpentine the jungle vegetation seems to become. What must be a path certain to lead to the glowing summit instead winds travelers in circles; forms inexplicably familiar - an old friend, a favorite childhood dog, a girl someone once loved - flicker at the periphery of vision and tempt wrong turns. The confusion makes it possible to escape being overwhelmed; unfortunately, it will be easy to become separated and Riftwatch and its allies are as prone to being scattered by their desire as the enemy is. Anyone separated from the bulk of their force may find themselves prey to rare hunger in the dark.
When they at last find their way to the rift, it is as a swollen belly being split open with pulsing heaves of nauseating light crackling across the rocky summit. What at first appears to be the guts of some great thing spills from the seam in slow motion on regrettably necessary closer inspection, is in actuality some appendage of an entity ready to push its way through the Veil which takes the form of twisting snakes. They are appealingly hypnotic, turning end over glittering scaled end, as with each pulse of light they slip further into the world where they might attempt to devour anyone who gets too close.
While at first it may seem as if Gwenaëlle and her supercharged anchor should have no trouble closing the rift herself, as whatever is happening in the ruin below progresses, Vanadi will have to aid her to counteract the effect of the ritual and successfully close the damn thing.
THE RUIN
Thanks to the earlier mapping mission, it's relatively simple to slip back in through the circuitous network of caves leading to the underground elven ruin. Even better: they have a perfect cover story. After all, the folks down in the ruin are expecting a few guests. Down in the caves, dirt floors cede to stone, and then to lovely domed rooms once laced with elaborate dalish decorative stonework sheared into shapes which grow more brutal and hard edged the closer the party gets to the central chamber. Deep furrows have been cut into the floor of these passages and brushed with some dark stain; according to the earlier survey, they form some elaborate rune all their own whose center rests in the main chamber.
Riftwatch (and their cache of gaatlok) are to secret their way along passages which run parallel to these main corridors, taking anyone they might meet by surprise. When at last they arrive at the central chamber, it is to be greeted by a ceremony already underway. A series of glyphs burn at key locations around the room, each managed by a pair of mages, and arranged around the central platform with its ugly Tevene altar lie a number of corpses (likely Nascere's missing persons) face down in the furrows which converge there.
Riftwatch's job at this point is to simply ("""simply""") fight their way to the central platform, set the gaatlok, and blow the central series of interlocking runes where the Veil has been rendered most thin. They'll be facing off with a number of Venatori mages, but the working theory is that they only have to last long enough to get the charge off. Maybe it requires an elaborate relay of passing the gaatlok from behind one series of barriers to another to avoid being blown up by stray magic; maybe stray magic does trigger the explosion. What is guaranteed is that when the explosion rocks the chamber, it decimates the central platform, sends stony shrapnel spitting in every direction, and knocks anyone left on their feet to the ground.
And as the central series of conduit runes in the subterranean ruin is split, power lances free. It courses lightning like along the channels—twisting rune forms—which spiral outward along the floors of various arms of the underground cavern from its main chamber, strippign the life out of anything unlucky enough to be standing (or stumbling or lying) in any of the carved furrows as the arcane burst surges down it.
In its wake, the ruin splits.
ESCAPE.
If anyone wasn't already moving to escape before the ceilings of the ruin's ornate underground rooms begin to fall in, and as walls and floors begin to crumble away into widening fissures, they should be now. A collapsed wall exposes a previously unmapped series of passages leading up and away from the ruin's chambers. As the network of caves tumbles in on itself and Riftwatch's forces underground flee through the rough hewn tunnels to emerge in the chaos of the disintegrating Qun-era fort which once guarded Nascere Town and the harbor beyond, an otherworldly fog rises ravenously after them.
Meanwhile, the team responsible for closing the rift has their own problems. While the disorienting effects of the jungle have evaporated with the rift's closure, the moment the bedrock fractures and the caverns below begin to fragment so too does the hilltop. The rift closure team will have to outpace the foothill's collapse to join their fellows struggling out of the ruin. By the time both groups converge in Nascere Town, there will be little doubt that the destructive force meant to shred open the Veil—power derived from years worth of a guerrilla war, from decades of bloodshed produced by both the island's internal turmoil and its embittered exchange of ownership between pirates and the Imperium, the Qun, and whoever came before—is perfectly capable of doing the same to the island when left unchecked.
At this stage, there's little to be done to control it. The best Riftwatch can hope for as the port town and the mountainous region surrounding it break into pieces is to get to something that floats and out of dodge before the harbor and its contents can be sucked into whatever cavity opens as the entire landmass breaks apart. In the bitter pre-dawn aftermath, the place they came to has been reduced to irregular jagged teeth plunged under a fog so unnaturally dense that it refuses to burn away even as the sun rises and the Walrus creeps in to rescue them from whatever irregular fleet of longboats and little sailing vessels they managed to escape on.
The ruin is gone. The Veil is intact. Technically speaking, Riftwatch accomplished exactly what they came here to do.
no subject
"We'll want to see that the bulk of Riftwatch stay below during rougher weather. The last thing I want is to lose a half dozen apostates over the side because they don't know to tie themselves down," is said in lieu of asking after the specifics of Mr. De Groot's bitching which was not heard through the door, but is as inevitable as it is unimportant as the chop of the sea worsens. If it is punctuated with a blank look at Silver, then surely it is incidental.
(Not hostile, just expectant. What haven't you said?)
He finishes the lacing, ties it with two turns, then folds the stray tails of the knot in under the edge of the waterproofed oilskin.
"I understand there has been some need to clarify the specifics of this partnership."
no subject
If there is a slight shake of his head in return to Flint's look, then perhaps it is nothing more than an acknowledgement of what needs to be done in preparation for the weather. (Not yet. Soon, but not yet.)
"Alright," comes first, as John's fingers lace loosely over the slant of his crutch, followed by, "Yes."
There is some sense of having crossed onto unsteady ground. Expectations, Madi had said. It's hard to glean what that might come to mean between them just from studying the pair of faces across the table from him. Whether their discussion had settled something or raised further uncertainty. He guesses at the former, but—
"Have you come to some conclusion about your expectations, or have I arrived just in time?"
one day my tags will be meatier
"It seems you are just in time—" she says, her hand resting on the edge of the desk. "—To share your expectations."
meteor
There are minutes yet before there will be any need for him on deck. And though this bears little resemblance to some loose stitch ready to pop - for if Silver had seen fit to mention to her at all, then he must be as confident in his decisions today as he had been then; if she is here discussing it, then today at least is seems viable; and if he is sitting here--
Goes without saying. But altogether it is a wrinkle, and in need of ironing.
bring on the beef
He watches Madi's hand flatten across the desk, Flint draw the fabric of his coat across one knee. John's hand turns up, one thumb finding the callouses and lines there as he absorbs the weight of the moment and considers the truth.
"Expectation is not quite the right word," John says, because it does not fit, not for him. The words he chooses matter in the moment. "I can tell you what I believe you both already know. I have committed myself to both of you in every way that matters. And I find that in the course of our work, that has come to mean the same thing to me when applied to you both."
As ever, it feels like tearing something vital from himself and setting it onto the table between the two of them. His hands move, thumb tracing a fading scar along his palm before he laces his fingers once more, leans slightly forward in the chair.
"If there is any expectation on my account, it is that you understand my feelings are unchanged. What I have professed to each of you is unchanged. And I would..."
John pauses, hesitating over the words more than the sentiment, trying to align them to his satisfaction. (I can see no reason to part with you now set against Living with your absence is almost beyond my endurance set against For years now, I have been sure of little else but you set against I love you. Does it not all come to the same thing?)
"I would see what I have committed to each of you carried forward, if that is what you want. Both of you."
no subject
But there’s also the difference in John being committed to them both in equal measure, in all things, and Flint saying he is my friend. Possibly caution brought about by not knowing the exact words John chose that day in Ghislain, or diminishing his role, here.
“You would see this carried forward,” Madi starts, echoing John’s sentiment. “Flint would have us speak our minds. I would have us be equal partners. It seems to me that these ideals do not contradict the others.”
But, she does not say, despite it being the natural continuation of that sentence. There is still something not being said, isn’t there?
no subject
"Then we adjust as necessary from this point as it's required," is an easy thing to say as he does up rarely used buttons on the oilcloth shell. "So long as we all move in the same direction, then anything additional can be context rather than a complication."
He glances between them, and there is no shade of You're welcome in the look pitched in Silver's direction though maybe there ought to be given—
"Have you told her about Van Markham yet?"
no subject
Soon.
But in the meantime—
"No," is simple enough. To discuss Van Markham feels almost to draw out the whole tangled mess of the road, the bandits' bones cracking under the force of John's desperation, Flint's crushed crushed ribs and the wet rasp of his breath as he struggled beneath Isaac and John's hands.
"We've had a lot of ground to cover. And I imagine what's decided in regards to Van Markham will be affected but what we manage to bring about in Nascere."
no subject
"Van Markham," she repeats, giving an eyebrow-heavy look to Flint, then to Silver. "You cannot think to say something like that without me asking after it."
If it's important enough for Flint to bring it up here, now, as yet another something we need to discuss, then surely she needs to know about it. If it is directly affected by what happens in Nascere, she needs to know about it.
no subject
"Van Markham is in contest with Aurelia Pentaghast over the Nevarran throne now that King Markus has undeniably vacated it. While in the South, we've partnered with a handful of Riftwatch mages to trade information helpful to the Van Markham cause in exchange for concessions in the name of Southern mage protections following the war. Our interest in the thing being," he clarifies, as it has little to do with Southern mages. Isn't that right? "Exercising some measure of control over Van Markham once he's assumed power."
Tipping his attention to Silver—
"Did I miss anything?"
Those are, he believes, the vital points.
no subject
He considers the succinct summation of this aspect of their plans, and shakes his head.
"Other than the reaction we received from your counterparts, no. You left out nothing."
John's hands lift, a little shrug punctuating the wry smile as John recalls the first proposition and Yseult's stubborn skepticism. He was not in the room afterwards, however—
"But I'm sure that can be guessed at."
He's told her a little of the other Division heads. But it's enough, he thinks.
no subject
John smiled when he said that, too. Madi gives him a peevish look, amusement and annoyance blended into something new and closer to positive than negative. Endeared, of a kind.
"I have been apprised of the Scoutmaster's stubborn nature. Of her caution. And of what considerations must be taken before trying to sway the Provost," she offers as context, turning to look at Flint. "What did they push back against in regards to Van Markham? Where was their sticking place?"
no subject
He has practice with this now - saying it like this, arranged all in the proper order. With every repetition (to Madame de Cedoux, to Nell, between the two of them, to himself) it sounds more and more manageable. When similarly sweeping gestures were posed to Yseult, she'd decried them - saying that they would spread Riftwatch too thin from the allied force of the Inquisition. That it made them vulnerable and, worse, ineffective.
And yet here they are, armed with so many of the sharpest weapons. With everything assembled so reasonably, it would be a monumental kind of oversight to fail in bringing them to bear in some bold way.
"But he's right," Flint says, nodding to John. "The word on Nascere will rule any alliances we might hope to pursue."
no subject
(Remembering the aftermath of their denial, Emlyn's voice sharp with fear, Flint's slumped shoulders.)
"This is what comes next," John continues. "You asked why we were inclined to stay, and it's to broker the kind of alliances that will keep us from having to drive some other army off our shores next year."
But the way forward isn't clear until they've dealt with the battle directly before them. What happens on Nascere affects everything else. John had understood that in the abstract, as something receding further and further into the future. Now it stands to be over within the month, and they'll be able to make a very different case when they return to Kirkwall.
He looks from Flint to Madi, watching her piece her way through the information.
no subject
(She files away the fact that the other Division Heads didn't foresee Flint and Silver's actions even after they'd proposed it once.)
"To put a weak leader on the throne will be little more than a stalling tactic without real strength to keep him there. Riftwatch's numbers are not enough to withstand the Venatori or the Chantry should either make a show of force, so where do you hope to derive the necessary strength to be certain you can keep Van Markham from buckling?"
no subject
It is a deceptively simple answer made complicated among people who have labored long under the magisterium's broad shadow. With a majority of the weather wear coat's buttons done up, Flint cuts a strangely uniformed figure in the pirate ship's cabin.
"It's been five years since their circles fell and they're still clinging to the Inquisition as if on apron strings and not a fish hook. They need allies who aren't merely rings on the Chantry's fingers, and we need solid ties to a force sympathetic to self rule."
no subject
"And we have the opportunity to offer then something more than the Inquisition ever will," John presses. "They won't cling to those apron strings forever, and if we provide a compelling alternative, we'll be able to sway a fair number of them to rally around Van Markham."
Leaning back in the chair, John tips his head with a small smile.
"Doesn't everyone dream of a safe haven to call their own? Van Markham can give them that, with a little encouragement."
no subject
It's a little skeptical, but if anyone in this world can shape it with will alone, they are standing here, in this room.
Madi crosses her arms and shifts her weight, a poor placeholder for pacing about the cabin. Even if the subject has changed, this isn't why they're here, and she'll have plenty of time to think on it after they secure Nascere. But still.
"And you have a plan to retake Nevarra City?"
no subject
"I imagine that will depend largely on the southern mages, what powers can be leveraged among the Mortalitasi, and whether the Nevarran people can be motivated to see the city put to rights. Whatever happens in there should be dictated by an alliance of forces there; the city may very well be the first demonstration of what can be achieved by such a thing before it turns to Corypheus."
He pauses. It's a small thing like the thoughtful turning of a page, the absent hitch of a breath as he locates a new edge worth testing.
"You asked how we would keep a weak leader on the throne. We don't. Not forever."
no subject
Has John himself not even spoken as such, circling such bold ambitions? (In the dark in the jungle: "Ferelden is easier dealt with once we have a foothold in the north.")
"And there's no need for that won't fall to Riftwatch alone," John says. He'd leaned back in the chair, as if settling into something rote. As John speaks, he straightens in his seat, grip shifting on his crutch. "We have the Inquisition and the Exalted March, and their attention will return to Nevarra sooner or later. What we can determine is that we have the pieces in place when the dust settles."
The pieces Flint touches on. John acknowledges them with a nod, eye contact with Flint unbroken as he takes an uneasy stock, estimating what can be accomplished between a contingent of southern mages, Ilias Fabria's ability to rally the Mortalitasi, what can be inspired among the Nevarran people. Does it come to enough? What must they move before then to be sure it does?
no subject
But the plan is to put a puppet on the throne, then depose him in favor of a stronger leader, which begs the question:
"And who would you have replace Van Markham, if we get our pieces in place? Assuming those pieces cannot be toppled by the Inquisition and the Exalted March?"
no subject
Today they may be facing the prospect of scraping the narrowest of victories from the very bottom of a barrel, given years of managing to find little in the way of traction. But if allowed the narrowest fingerhold, the rest of the world will have cause to move. He can feel the momentum of the thing like the shifting of the sea.
no subject
"There are paths beyond what we accomplish here," John says. "We can gather the information, but we'll know better what kind of leverage will be available to us in a few weeks."
And John thinks I need to send people to look in on the Van Markhams with the same detached click that he'd noted I need to know more about the Merchant Princes.