CLOSED | there's no place like home

[pittance]

WHO: Holden, Mhavos, Sawbones + Vance
WHAT: Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass.
WHEN: Vague timing.
WHERE: Orzammar.
NOTES: HMU in Discord with any questions.

Comments

[okayimin]

"There's been talk of establishing a Chantry within Orzammar," Sawbones says, "The Divine has an interest in bringing more dwarven converts, but I doubt they'll find foothold without appointing a local as Mother."

As if she were not an Orzammar dwarf within the Chantry. "It's not so one sided. Our trade got hit hard during Orlais civil war. I reckon everyone involved with this will aim to keep civil, but any Sister sent by the Divine isn't going to miss a chance at appealing to potential converts."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos, at least, can follow this conversation. He's not sure Holden can, but he makes a private promise to run through it later for his benefit. Steepling his fingers, he thinks, "has that effort gotten so far as to establish a candidate? Is she someone we should speak with?"

[okayimin]

"I wouldn't know," Sawbones says, almost primly, "But yes, I think it would be wise, given she's the one advocating for the Casteless dwarf."

[murderbaby]

Just as primly, but a bit more reflexive than practiced. "I'll add that to the agenda."

[acreage]

Well, Holden doesn't not follow, but he certainly finds himself with more questions than answers. And, frankly, a lot of that has to do with the gulf between how Vance speaks about all this and the entire existence of Sawbones. He doesn't go so far as to look at her, aside from when she says something, but there's a crease between his eyebrows as he listens.

But all he says is, by way of agreement, "I wouldn't mind having a word with her, myself, and hear what she knows."

[pittance]

"Conversion talk comes pretty near to overstepping," Vance cuts in, at last. About fifteen years ago now that Burkel was run out of town. "We're not here to found a Chantry."

That's colder than they're like to have heard of him prior. His hand peels free to brace against the jostling wall (the bumpy road). A moment, a measure of warmth returned to his voice:

"Sister Sara can make our introductions. It'll be best if none of you travel alone."

[okayimin]

She tips her chin up at Vance, brows raised, but she doesn't offer more challenge than that. Instead she simply says, "I agree."

To all of it, frankly.

[murderbaby]

For a moment, Mhavos feels the pang of something he's slow to identify-- these two are clearly at odds on something, and Mhavos doesn't know what, or, frankly, how to choose. An easier time, when he could leave that decision up to whoever owned his contract.

Mhavos sighs, a sound quickly caught up in the sound of wooden wheels over gravel and dirt. How to change the subject? "Assigned chaperones, or are we only to leave with you?"

General you. He looks at neither Vance nor the Sister when he asks.

[acreage]

Wow, yikes. His momentary assumption is that the tension has to do with the Chantry, but he doubts it's that simple. Thank God for Mhavos's move to redirect the conversation.

"How often," building on the question of not wandering off alone, just a little, "do — Surfacers travel down there?"

Exactly how much attention are a human and elf going to draw down there?

[pittance]

"We sent for some the other month," Research expedition. Something about the lyrium. "And every so often, a Warden comes down."

He'll skip the why of that, thanks.

"But you're gonna stand out," What's the phrase? Like a sore thumb? "And given the situation — Orlais, Riftwatch, I don't figure that'll look so neutral as planned. Tempers might be up."

And Mhavos is a clerk. Holden is, well. He has that kind of face.

"Stick together, and I'll try to rustle up a guard. Don't get near Dust Town without the Sister."

[okayimin]

"Be careful with anyone you see with a brand," she adds to that, pointing to hers for Holden's benefit, "Surfacers that aren't with the Carta are easy marks."

And because it bears mentioning, "If you see any Casteless women in the Diamond Quarter, tell them I'll be around in the Common Area."

She does not address Vance with that request.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos faintly wishes he were the charming type, to turn all this onto its side and shape it into a joke. But if such a thing is possible, it's beyond him. He wonders if this tense mood will continue the entire trip.

Probably.

"I'll try not to have anything on me worth stealing," he says, "but the discretion is noted; thank you."

[acreage]

"Noted," he says, of — well, everything. "Tread carefully, try not to piss anyone off."

This is probably exactly why Vance thinks he has one of those faces.

[pittance]

"See, you got it already."

He shoots a look over his shoulder, to the little line of ponies and wheel ruts behind.

"I better go show some face," If they want a lift home again. Vance clambers back down, jogs a pace behind the cart to add, "Might want to stretch out while you got it."

(He doesn't need to specify Holden on that. The proximity of the past few days have made it clear: Vance is on the tall end of Dwarf.)

The wagon bounces. Slush kicks up — he's vanished from view.

[okayimin]

Sawbones isn't particularly keen on walking through the slush herself, but she'll slide out after the rest if they decide to. She's starting to feel tense and jittery, fidgeting just a little.

"You got questions?" she asks their surfacers, "I know we're forgetting to warn you about something, but it's been a while since I've been back. Reckon both of us-" Her and Vance, "Are bound to miss something."

Of course, they might not, but she could use the distraction when they're so close to Orzammar itself. The dwarfs here just glance curiously at them, but don't stick around to make remarks.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos tries to smile reassuringly, aware that the shape of his face will make it too sharp by half. "Is there anything we shouldn't avoid?"

[acreage]

Holden unfolds those long limbs and moves to pull himself out. He can, in fact, take a hint; especially when it mirrors thoughts he's been starting to have himself. May as well stretch out before he's potentially bending himself in half to walk through a fucking doorway.

"What's the Dust Town?"

[okayimin]

She returns Mhavos' smile, even if hers is half hearted and a little apologetic, "You're better off asking Warden Vance that."

Thankfully she has a straight forward answer for Holden, "The slums where Casteless like me live. A bit like an alienage. More like Dark Town."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos nods, speaking in undertone. "No holy tree in the middle, I take it."

He resists the urge to take out a notebook and begin to take statement. "Your place of origin, and very much not Vance's, yes?"

[acreage]

He'll wait for the response on this one before speaking up again.

[okayimin]

It's good Holden waits, because Sawbones might not have been able to hear him over the laugh that bursts out of her. She manages to smother it quickly, shaking her head.

"Stone no," she says, "He's Diamond Quarter. That's nobility." She shakes her head, "If both of us had stayed where we were, the only way we'd ever meet is if I took up noble hunting and he decided to try and get a son by me."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos nods, looks uncomfortable, opens his mouth, closes it. He looks to Holden, as though this makes up his mind. "Is that what it sounds like?"

[acreage]

At almost the same time, Holden asks, "Noble hunting?"

[okayimin]

Their reactions are almost funny. Almost.

"Casteless women who sleep with upper Castes to try and get pregnant," she says, her smile looking more like a threat, "Bit like brothel girls if they didn't get paid for the service. The only time a Casteless woman ever gets into the Diamond Quarter is if she's a noble hunter. The only time a noble man ever talks to a Casteless woman is if he's looking to lay her."

Perhaps an oversimplification, perhaps a generalization, but also she isn't wrong. She pre-empts any further questions by expanding: "Orzammar has a low birth rate. And Caste is inherited, father to son, mother to daughter. If a Casteless mother has her son recognized by his father, she and her family are elevated to that Caste. They have an opportunity to have a life that isn't scrounging in the trash piles for food."

[murderbaby]

Mhavos nods. "Yes, I've heard of something similar win Orlais with the elf-blooded, but less..." He makes a distasteful expression, "formalized."