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They’ve taken the route overland. Fortunate timing: A cousin of a cousin, a wagon going south. The little bundle of merchants have been busy at their own work. Occasionally one offers a smoke, or a hand of cards on watch — but for the most part, they've been content to ignore the hitchhikers.
They’re close now. Winter comes early to the mountains, and steam curls on every breath. Over the past day, Vance’s demeanour has grown narrow, preoccupied.
"An hour, maybe two." He hauls himself back beneath the awning. "We’ll be staying with my brother’s family. Or —"
He exchanges a look with Sawbones. It’s difficult to read.
"Sister Foresa offered an alternative."
Sawbones' deameanor has likewise shifted as they draw closer to their destination, a frown creasing her brow and shoulders starting to hunch slightly. However, she's perfectly capable of reading the look Vance sends her.
She nods her thanks with a grim little smile, "Thank you. I'll be staying with Sister Foresa." Then for the sake of their Rifter and surfacer companion, "You two should stay with him. I'm told Orzammar's Diamond Quarter is lovely."
And more hospitable to surfacers.
She nods her thanks with a grim little smile, "Thank you. I'll be staying with Sister Foresa." Then for the sake of their Rifter and surfacer companion, "You two should stay with him. I'm told Orzammar's Diamond Quarter is lovely."
And more hospitable to surfacers.
This is something social, political, ingrained and meaningful. It has to do with the brand on her cheek, and the look in Vance's eye. Beyond that, Mhavos has no real clue.
When in doubt, at least be polite. He has a roughly positive opinion of everyone here. "I do hope you'll have time to speak with us between Chantry duties."
His fingers linger on the crystal at his neck. We'll be in touch.
When in doubt, at least be polite. He has a roughly positive opinion of everyone here. "I do hope you'll have time to speak with us between Chantry duties."
His fingers linger on the crystal at his neck. We'll be in touch.
Whatever lingers in the air, it's heavy; he looks from Vance to Sawbones more than once, but without context it's indecipherable. An oversight, all his questions and poking around book collections, and little of it spared for understanding dwarven culture.
"Sister Foresa. She's the ambassador who was in Orzammar when it happened?"
It being, of course, the incident that's sparked their current journey.
"Sister Foresa. She's the ambassador who was in Orzammar when it happened?"
It being, of course, the incident that's sparked their current journey.
No relief slinks into his frame, but the nod back to Sawbones comes a little easier.
"Near as I can tell, the new Divine sent her," He pauses on the sight of Holden's hand. Uh — "Stop me if any of this goes overhead. Orzammar,"
A little gesture, inclusive of Mhavos.
"Has no Chantry, and no Chantry law. We don't follow Andraste. We don't keep the Maker." It could say any number of things, that he says we, that Sawbones is sitting there in red and white. "But some Surfacers do, and Orlais does. And they need our lyrium. So it goes in cycles, you know,"
"Friendly until someone oversteps." A hand to the back of his neck. "That's how it was when I left."
"Near as I can tell, the new Divine sent her," He pauses on the sight of Holden's hand. Uh — "Stop me if any of this goes overhead. Orzammar,"
A little gesture, inclusive of Mhavos.
"Has no Chantry, and no Chantry law. We don't follow Andraste. We don't keep the Maker." It could say any number of things, that he says we, that Sawbones is sitting there in red and white. "But some Surfacers do, and Orlais does. And they need our lyrium. So it goes in cycles, you know,"
"Friendly until someone oversteps." A hand to the back of his neck. "That's how it was when I left."
"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."
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."
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?"
Just as primly, but a bit more reflexive than practiced. "I'll add that to the agenda."
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."
But all he says is, by way of agreement, "I wouldn't mind having a word with her, myself, and hear what she knows."
Edited (fusses) 2020-11-08 21:27 (UTC)
"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."
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."
Edited (edit for clarity) 2020-11-08 21:45 (UTC)
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.
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.
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?
"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?
"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."
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."
"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.
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.
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."
Probably.
"I'll try not to have anything on me worth stealing," he says, "but the discretion is noted; thank you."
"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.
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.
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.
"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.
Edited 2020-11-08 22:54 (UTC)
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?"
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?"
"What's the Dust Town?"
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."
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."
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?"
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?"
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