[Closed] Madman Drummers Bummers

[overharrowed]

WHO: Julius, Cassius, Isaac and Loki
WHAT: Talking Darkspawn, how do they work? A series of attempts to gather information.
WHEN: Points during Drakonis
WHERE: Ansburg and Lake Celestine (variously)
NOTES: OOC information over here. Note: The OOC report deadline has been adjusted to reflect an administrative delay on getting the post up. The new due date is April 15 18.

Riftwatch generally, and Project Sashamiri specifically, have too much to do and not enough personnel or resources to do it. This is well known. It is also the reason that it has taken nearly three years to follow up on the Satinalia attack on Neverra City. It is, Julius can admit at least to himself, far from ideal – but, with any luck, better late than never.

An initial campaign of letters and other reactivation of old contacts does, in fact, generate some leads. After reviewing them all, Julius decides to focus the small pool of labor on two of them.

First, Isaac and Loki are (carefully) heading toward a farm a bit outside of Ansburg. A Riftwatch contact passed on the information that the farmer in question, one Lester Rollins, has been insisting to anyone that will listen that he has heard voices from his barn and seen a shambling form coming and going, mostly at dawn or twilight. While it is unclear what a talking Darkspawn would be doing near Ansburg, Rollins seems deeply and sincerely shaken according to the information they have received. The Ansburg merchant who passed along the information suggested the town would be grateful to have the matter resolved either way.

Meanwhile, Julius and Cassius are (also carefully) heading for Lake Celestine to meet Susanna Tallis, a Grey Warden based at Griffon Wing Keep who is willing to exchange information with Riftwatch. She is somewhat cagey about saying too much by correspondence, but suggests that she does have some information they will find worth the trip. She mainly asks in exchange that they keep Griffon Wing Keep apprised as they dig into Darkspawn-related matters further.

A few other potential leads may make their way into the final report, but for now, these two seem like the best bets. And if Julius says a silent prayer to the Maker that neither team’s professionalism devolves during the mission, he’d never admit it out loud.

Comments

For Cassius

[overharrowed]

While the liberation of Val Chevin has made travel on the Waking Sea less fraught than it was, it's still not without its hazards. This time, it isn't the war at all, but a spring squall that makes the trip unpleasant. Julius, while generally not afraid of water nor prone to seasickness, takes the crew's instruction to mainly stay below to heart; it's a cramped and uncomfortable voyage. They do, however, safely make landfall a bit west of Val Royeaux.

The land journey is significantly more pleasant, if only by comparison. While the rain is still more frequent than would be perfectly comfortable, it's more often a drizzle than a storm; the ground is muddy but not enough to impede their horses. And as this mission isn't a matter of stealth, now that Orlais is more passable, they're mainly able to stay in inns rather than camping rough, which is likely for the best all around. They're well-positioned to be on time for their rendezvous, and Julius allows himself to hope this mission might actually go well.

[satinet]

As a rule, Cassius tries to avoid riding whenever possible. It's not the sort of thing that can be done with much dignity in most robes and he has only the one riding habit. Furthermore, there must be somewhere in Thedas which recognizes being forced to sit in a saddle for unjustly long periods of time as the form of excruciating torture it is. This has very little to do with the fact that he's not much of a rider, or the fact that the last time he spent any time on a horse ended with the rather disastrous result of an anchor shard lodging itself into his hand.

(And a dead Warden and a handful of wounded Templars, but one often remembers personal traumas first.)

So despite the fact that they have made relatively good timing and have had the luxury of decent accommodations nearly every step of the way, by the time they are at least nearing their destination Cassius has fallen into a somewhat singularly black mood. If this is his reward for all the hard work he's done for Riftwatch, he may as well chop his hand off now and return to Skyhold where they would be all too happy to allow him to sit in his little office writing his little letters for the rest of the war. Everything is terrible. Life is cruel. His ass hurts.

"Andraste's holy cunt," he swears as they reach the top of little rise.

In this weather, the inn at the crossroads below looks particularly morose. It's stones are a particularly dismal shade of grey, the thatch is so aged as to be practically black, and the whole of the horse yard about it has been trampled and raked into a wide swath of muck that is visible even from this distance.

"Do you think it's obligatory that Wardens have bad taste, or just our luck that we've been stuck with the most miserable ones?"

[overharrowed]

Cassius's mood could hardly have gone unnoticed, but Julius is doing his best to ignore it. Sometimes when teaching apprentices, failing to acknowledge one was in a snit would give the mood time to blow out on its own. (Hardly a flattering comparison, but one that jumped to mind all the same.) No such luck, however.

Julius had wondered, briefly, whether he was somehow conceding something in packing trousers rather than robes for the trip, but the last leg of it rather suggests the opposite. It's another observation to keep firmly to himself. At least for now; he suspects Petrana will appreciate it when he returns to Kirkwall.

Evenly, neither committing to agreement nor going so far as to disagree, he says, "Maybe she simply values her privacy. Regardless, the sooner we have the meeting, the sooner we can be on our way."

There is, at least, smoke coming from the ancient chimney, suggesting that the inside will not be freezing or so smoke-filled as to be uninhabitable. As they continue to approach, it's easy to spot a few horses tied up under what mostly seems to be a roof. One, while no grander, is better-fed, suggesting their contact is already present.

[satinet]

Privacy can be bought, Cassius thinks at the volume of a soaring Val Royeaux chorus but doesn't say as they make their way down the muddy roadway to the crossroads and the inn's muddier yard. He does however granted Julius beside him a long suffering look; the man could at least have the decency to share in a little of his misery.

It takes some effort for Cassius to hoist himself out of the saddle once they reach the yard and his ungainly, saddle sore stagger somewhat diminishes the look of awe and alarm on the face of the round eyed, grubby stable boy who had come running to catch their horses. The child's already had a promising start to the day with the arrival of a Warden, and some mage (Cassius at least with his robes and staff and general air can hardly escape identification; whether Julius's trousers offset any chance of identification is useless to question) fumbling out of the saddle is clearly a slightly disappointing act two.

Cassius at least makes no attempt to save his hems or riding boots from the mud.

"Maybe she'll be good looking," is his last grousing remark before they make their way indoors.

[overharrowed]

Julius shakes his head, but the remark does get a fleeting, rueful smile from him.

For all they might not have read as two mages to a stable boy, they certainly do to anyone actually familiar with mages. Julius is making no effort to conceal the staff on his back, despite his more practical wardrobe choices. As the two of them enter the public room that makes up the inn's first floor, the general reaction is nothing so dramatic as the room falling silent. There is, however, a distinct buzz of quiet gossip taking a particular bent a few moments after they come in.

The Warden who rises and raises a hand to get their attention isn't bad looking, for what it may be worth to Cassius. She could be anywhere from a very tired late 20s to a moderately tired late 30s, her build suggesting that she wields mainly something heavy. (No weapon is immediately in sight, though presumably it's not far.) The hair cropped below her chin was probably blonde once, though it's faded to brown; in fact, her coloring is close enough to Julius's own that the Ferelden accent presumably comes as less of a surprise than it might when they approach her table. "You're the Riftwatch agents, then?"

"We are," Julius confirms, unhurried but not leaving an opportunity for Cassius to get the first word in. "I'm Julius, and this is First Enchanter Cassius Black." Using Cassius's full title and omitting his own may be respectful, or it may be a patient parent giving a fussy child a lollipop as a recognition of nominally good behavior; who can say? You certainly can't prove anything by his tone, and the Warden's nonreaction suggests she doesn't register anything odd in the man giving no title or surname taking the immediate lead.

[satinet]

Tallis is hardly an eyesore but definitively nothing to write rapturously home about ('—While I'm summarizing this whole affair for you, Byerly, I will make a small note here that the Warden in question is compelling for more than just the intelligence she was willing to provide. As you well know, I hesitate to throw around the word "buxom" lest it lose its meaning, however—', for example). But failing the relief which a Warden with legs the length of the Rivain peninsula might have provided, at least someone is patting his ass. As is so often the case, Cassius will subsist on what he can get.

He inclines his head with a measure of some of that sweeping grace previously misplaced somewhere between here and Kirkwall.

"Of Perendale," he tacks on to the introduction. "And you must be Warden Tallis. I trust Julius and I haven't kept you waiting too long."

[overharrowed]

Tallis waves them to sit, resuming her own seat as she does. "There's worse places to wait, and travel is always dodgy, even when the war's moved out of your backyard. I'm just glad you came. Do you want drinks?"

"I'll have an ale, if we're ordering a round," Julius says, as relaxed as if he were in his own office but clearly paying attention to Tallis. (And just as clearly ignoring the whispers which hadn't quite subsided in the background.) "We had as good luck traveling as can be expected, but we're mainly just glad of someone with some concrete information on the topic for us."

Not quite jumping straight into business, but laying out the priority front and center all the same.

[satinet]

From the casual gesture Cassius makes with his offhand, an ale suits him as well. Never trust anything else out of these backwater establishments. They probably make all their wine in a bucket.

"Yes, imagine our surprise when we heard Wardens had news about darkspawn."

It's punctuated with a flashing smile and a sidelong look (for Tallis, not for Julius) as Cassius leans his staff against the edge of the table and sweeps into one of the chairs.